Eran released a slow breath, following it with the release of his bowstring. The arrow cut through the air and almost struck the middle of the target. It missed by only a fraction, which was still a win.
“Did you get it?” I asked, creeping closer.
Eran waited, a shudder running through his body, then his lips curved into a grin. “Yeah, I got it,” he said, making a fist. “It’s two unallocated points this time.”
“You’re going to invest it all in Fortitude, aren’t you?” I asked, scrunching my nose.
“Maybe,” Eran said with an embarrassed laugh. “You have to admit it’s a good attribute.”
That it was. Unfortunately, I did not have it yet. Eran had completed ten thousand miles of running to receive the Advanced Attribute a few days ago, whereas I still had a few thousand miles left to go. But then again, Eran had three seasons on me, over four hundred days older. It wouldn't take me all that long to finish Running III.
He handed me the bow and arrows. “Now it’s your turn. How many do you need again?”
“Four,” I said, taking the bow.
Four more true shots and I’ll complete Archery II. Seems easy enough.
Steadying my breath, I aimed and released the string. The arrow flew and struck the middle of the target, right next to Eran’s last shot, right where I aimed.
“Solas!” Eran swore. “You know, I practise archery only the Oracle knows how long, and yet somehow you’re better than me.”
“It’s all in the mind,” I said, flashing my teeth. Two were missing in the upper row. “Meditate for an hour or two every day, and your focus will be as sharp as a blade’s edge.”
“That’s sheepdung, and you know it.”
“You’ll learn when you stop fidgeting every minute.”
In the early days of practice, Eran essentially slept through entire meditation sessions. Nowadays, he was better, but he still refused to believe that sitting and thinking about nothing could help with something like archery.
He’d understand once he completes the third or fourth layer,
I thought.
“We have six arrows here,” Eran said. “What do you say? Can you complete the second layer without us recovering the arrows?”
“Probably,” I said without thinking. An unmoving target was easy. Most of the time, my arrows struck true. After nearly a thousand successful shots, my hand-to-eye coordination had improved to the point that I rarely missed if I had even a split second to aim.
“Show me,” Eran challenged. “If you fail, you’re going to put away all the stuff in the training hall.”
“You bet,” I said, shooting once more.
This time, the arrow struck the very bottom edge of the circular target. I nocked another arrow and shot, this one sticking at three o’clock.
“Only four more remain,” Eran said. “Looks like luck’s not on your side.”
My lips curved upward, and I aimed for the top edge of the target board. The arrow struck true once again.
A rush of current prickled on my left palm immediately, as though the Spell had been waiting for me to complete the Way.
[Congratulations! Archery II (1000/1000) is complete.]
[+2 Unallocated Points.]
[Archery III (1000/10,000) is now accessible.]
I gazed at the mark intentionally to call up my profile.
[Profile]
Arilyn Arcis O'Ryon
Path:
U/A
Honours:
U/A
Attributes [6/8]
(Unallocated Points: 31)
Arcane Acuity (Advanced): +10Cognition (Elementary): +30Focus (Elementary): +49Alacrity (Elementary): +8Body Coordination (Elementary): +2Agility (Elementary): +2
Gift:
Fractal Soul
Ways:
In progress:
Meditation IX (2896/5000) | Essence Sense VII (819/1000) | Balance II (903/1000) | Essence Unification IV (94/100) | Running III (7096/10000) | Swimming I (78/100) | Perseverance III (30/50) | Education III (7009/10000) | Sneak II (156/1000) | Evasion III (1421/10000) | Music II (119/1000) | Painting II (101/1000) | Archery III (1000/10000) | Self Mastery (1/10) | Fractal Sight I (2/10)
The unallocated points had amassed to a considerable amount. Looking at them, I considered once more whether to spend a point or two on an attribute. The only reason I had not yet was that I wanted to invest in higher-ranked attributes, since the higher the rank, the greater the benefit would be.
Obviously, the counterargument would be that the more points I had in an attribute, the easier it would be to complete Ways involving it. Forty-nine points in Focus had already made me a better archer than Eran, who practised archery for hours daily.
Other than that, I hardly improved much over the season. Both Music I and Painting I gave two unallocated points each, even though I was still pretty terrible at them. My only consolation was that the hours I spent learning to play the violin and paint were measured in the Way of Education, raising it all the way to the seven-thousand mark. I was pretty confident I would complete it before my awakening.
“Arilyn?” Eran called my name for the third time, nudging my shoulder until I remembered to attend to him. “Sometimes you’re as bad as Priam.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Was checking my [Profile.]”
“You’re checking your profile before completing the Way?” A knit appeared on his brows as he tried to decipher my expression. Ultimately, my grin gave it away. “Don’t tell me you completed it? But your shots weren’t at the centre.”
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“You don’t need to aim at the centre of the target for the Spell to acknowledge it, Eran. You just need to hit your aim.”
Eran blinked, then his eyes widened, looking as though the revelation had expanded his mind. I left him to his thoughts, quickly emptying the last three arrows. After knocking one into the nine o’clock of the target, I shot the next two dead in the centre.
“So, are you going to begin cleanup?” I asked him. “Or shall I start on my own?”
Eran released a breath like an older man before getting to work. One benefit of befriending Aleya was that we got to practise on the school field after the students were done with their training, but of course, that came with the stipulation that we cleaned up after ourselves.
Eran carried the large target board on his shoulder, tumbling his way to the training hall. I shook my head and joined to help.
“You know, betting’s no fun with you,” he clicked his tongue.
I smirked. “You’re saying that as though you wouldn’t have helped if I failed.”
Together, we put away the target board along with the extra arrows we had gathered, then took care of some other equipment the other boys had left behind.
“Done early today, huh, boys?” Aleya said as we came out of the training hall.
“Yeah,” Eran said. “We also put away all the stuff, Aleya.”
The Lord Magistratus’s daughter smiled before her eyes drifted to the other side of the field. “If only my foolish brother were as responsible as you two.”
My eyes followed hers and found Priam playing with wooden duelling canes with others. A bunch of boys and girls a year older than us, most already awakened, surrounded him.
“He’s duelling,” Eran said, his voice full of enthusiasm. “Let’s go take a look.”
Without paying the older girl another glance, Eran shot in that direction. He did not forget to pull me along with him either.
Priam was in the middle of a duel with another kid, at least the juvenile equivalent of it, using wooden duelling canes to avoid serious injuries. Obviously, there were no real stakes involved.
The two were matched almost equally, the wooden canes clashing with each move, until Priam managed to overpower his opponent, swinging a thrashing blow to his chest. The opponent dropped to the ground in defeat.
All the kids applauded as Priam held his cane high, spinning it along his thumb and ring finger.
“Who’s going to fight me next?” he asked, his eyes moving from his defeated opponent to the others and finally to us.
“I will,” Eran said, raising his hand. “I want to duel.”
Priam Octavius considered it for a moment before letting out a reluctant, “Fine.”
The defeated boy handed Eran the duelling cane as the farm boy entered the ring to fight the son of the Magistratus.
“Remember not to strike the head,” Aleya’s voice echoed from behind me. I turned to find her standing there. “And don’t use your awakened gift either, since your opponent isn’t one.”
“Geez, Aleya! I know the rules,” Priam whined before his eyes turned imperial once more, fixing on his new opponent. Eran was swinging the wooden cane to get a feel for it. “You know the rules. You win if you get three points first, or if the other party forfeits.”
Eran nodded, taking his position, mimicking his opponent.
As soon as the sparring began, the farm boy shot toward his opponent, the duelling cane moving in a broad arc. Priam seemed to have seen it coming. He stepped sideways to avoid the blow, his own cane moving to strike Eran on the back.
“That’s one point,” said a boy acting as the referee.
“First rule of a duel,” Priam said, standing tall. “You don’t run at a superior opponent without a plan.”
Then he clashed duelling canes with Eran’s a couple of times before his found purchase on the farm boy’s chest. Priam pushed it against Eran, gracefully unbalancing his opponent. Eran fell on his rear. Defeated.
Tor's balls, that looks so… incredible.
Of course, I knew Priam was no swordmaster. He was barely a year older than me, but he certainly knew his way around a weapon.
“That’s two points,” called the referee. “Three points to Priam. It’s his victory again.”
Eran stood back to his feet, rubbing his chest. Although the duelling cane was wooden, its surface dull, it still hurt, especially on the tender bones. He returned the cane to the next opponent, slumping next to me. I wondered what I needed to say to lift his spirit. Before I could manage, someone relieved me of the duty.
“Don’t feel bad,” Aleya said, patting the farm boy’s shoulder. “You’ve probably never held a practice sword before, have you? Whereas my brother’s been training under an accomplished swordsman for a couple of seasons now. It’d have been a miracle if you actually managed to defeat him.”
“I couldn’t even land a blow,” Eran sighed.
Meanwhile, Priam sent his next opponent to the ground, securing another victory. This time, it didn’t come as easily. The other boy managed to take one point from him.
“Who’s next?” Priam asked imperiously. “Come now, the sun’s low.”
I found myself picking up the cane on the next turn, surprising even myself. I’d probably get destroyed like Eran and the rest, but it felt wrong to be left out.
“Ah, Arilyn,” Priam called. “Another unawakened. At least better than your cowardly bunch.”
I held the cane in my palms. It felt a bit chunky, but the weight was about right.
“Don’t run in like a lost sheep, like Eran did,” my opponent said. I took that as advice.
Three points to victory or defeat, I mused, forming a rough plan. A blow to the limbs was worth one point, whereas a strike to the torso or abdomen counted for two. So, I had to protect those more.
I took my stance, sword held high on my right, its tip pointing upwards. Instantly, I recalled where I’d learned this stance. It was how my father positioned himself. I remembered how sublime his swordplay was when he dispatched those centipede monsters on our return trip from Klearon.
I wonder if I can imitate—
“Begin!”
Priam dashed at me, knowing I wouldn’t follow in Eran’s footsteps after seeing how easily he’d been defeated. He denied me any time to come up with a strategy, his cane swinging toward my face in a furious arc. I raised my own in a block, only to find my opponent’s weapon curving in the air, avoiding my guard to strike my shoulder.
Pain shot through me as I let out an involuntary squeal. Priam withdrew a couple of steps to take position again, giving me a moment to collect myself.
“That’s one point to Priam,” called the boy, while others cheered.
I gritted my teeth, measuring my opponent through teary eyes. Priam was a year older than me, but if we stood shoulder to shoulder, no one could tell who was older. That didn’t change the fact that he was stronger and had probably invested most of his points in physical attributes. But there had to be a way to defeat a stronger opponent. Like in the stories…
Wait, was I truly thinking of defeating him?
Before I could answer that question, Priam was upon me again, this time targeting my lower body.
I managed to parry his attack, though the force jolted my arms. Firming my grip on the wooden weapon, I fended off his next few blows, almost easing into the rhythm. Almost—because Priam’s attacks came faster, sharper, more severe, as though it insulted him that I’d deflected a few of his strikes.
Raw orange threads of essence flowed through his limbs, making his movements nimbler, his swings more rapid. This was likely unconscious usage of essence, legal within the rules imposed by Aleya.
Focus, Agility, Alacrity, and all my mental attributes worked in tandem to track his sword arcs. I managed to avoid getting hit, but under his relentless assault, I kept retreating.
At some moment, the cheers of the crowd faded into silence. Their faces blurred. The only things I saw were the arcs of the cane and Priam’s shifting movements. My chest burned as my breathing grew heavier. A stream of chilly air flowed through my nostrils and mouth, and—
Priam aimed for my head again. The natural reaction was to block, but the head was off-limits in the spar. So, as I prepared to defend, I kept myself open for an opportunity.
As I’d hoped, the cane curved in the air once more, this time toward my torso. Prepared, I parried the blow. Not only that, I shifted left, to Priam’s weak side, and crashed my sword straight into his arm.
Priam jolted back, jerking his arm. “Damn, that hurts.”
“One point to Arilyn!”
Now the crowd cheered for me, all of my opponent’s heroics forgotten for a split second. But I had no ears for them.
Although Priam had advised against charging in recklessly, I bolted toward him, sword at the ready. Electric jolts ran through my arms as he blocked my first attack. While he was busy with that, I thrust a kick at his calf.
Off balance, Priam stumbled back. I pressed forward. I struck at his lower body. He parried. I prowled at his chest. He stepped back. I arched my dull blade toward his face, and he made the same mistake I had.
Without thinking, Priam raised a block, the plain thought forgotten in the heat of battle. My cane curved in the air, ready to thrash against his shoulder—
Light flashed in my eyes, and the next thing I knew, I was thrown to the ground.
A jolt of pain flared in my chest as the loud world returned to my ears.
“Two points to Priam! He’s victorious once again.”
Gasps escaped my lips as my chest heaved. A swelling pain coursed through my torso, and I found my tunic torn, an angry red welt on my bare skin.
“Wrong!” Aleya’s voice rang out from the back, her accusing eyes fixed on her brother. “Priam cheated. In that last burst of power, he used his gift.”
[A new Way is available: Duelling I (1/10)]