Bacorium Legacy

  Chapter IV

  His Father's Sword

  Luca drew himself up, and took a deep breath.

  "C'mon... ten more metres..."

  He moved in slow, careful steps. His body shook and ached, and every now and then he would have to stop, lest he be driven to his knees by a coughing fit or a wave of dizziness. Beside him, on the trees standing at the margin of the road were numbers that he and Emila had carved in the bark earlier. These numbers continued on for some distance, the final marked tree being still too far away for him to see. They had left such numbers for a good three kilometres in preparation for the test.

  And he had not even made it more than a kilometre away from her before the symptoms started kicking in.

  He swore under his breath. He didn't know how much farther he could go, but if he went too far, he might hit a point where he was unable to even go back. Emila would return for him if he took too long, but there was no sense in pushing himself too hard. His condition had only gotten worse after his attempt at fleeing Forga, and when that was coupled with the fight against the vampire, he had been so drained he could hardly carry his own sword. And he had been like that for days.

  He simply couldn't go any farther.

  Damn it all...

  Luca turned and started back, where Emila would be waiting.

  The results had been expected, but he was still frustrated. At this rate of recovery, it would take him months to be independent again, not just weeks, as Emila had initially predicted.

  Some part of him hated that she had saved his life.

 

  "How far were you able to go?"

  Luca collapsed on the log opposite of the one she sat upon. A small fire crackled between them, providing a bit of light and warmth as the sun began to fade behind the horizon.

  "Not far at all," he muttered sorely. "A kilometre and a half, and even that was pushing it." He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and massaged a sore temple.

  She frowned. "Really? That means... wow. You're actually getting worse."

  Luca's eyes shot open, and he looked at her with an intense gaze. "How do you mean?"

  "When you tried to leave Forga, you made it about two kilometres out before the symptoms kicked in," she told him. "I know this because you were close to a signpost that pointed out the distance to town."

  Luca bowed his head again and swore.

  "That's not what's really bothering me, though," Emila continued. "My side of the tether has been getting stronger. At first, I could only sense your presence as a kind of feeling at the edge of my mind. That feeling fading was how I knew when you were leaving Forga. When you were fighting that vampire, I was woken up by a feeling of pain in my left hand. I later found out that was the same hand in which you inflicted a wound upon yourself."

  "Right," Luca said. "I made myself bleed, to distract the vampire."

  "I feel none of the things you feel when you tested the connection," Emila said. "But I'm guessing that's because those things are caused by the tether being strained. When the tether is strong, I feel the same pain that you do."

  "Yesterday you stubbed your toe on a rock," Luca added. "I felt that, but only a little bit."

  Emila's eyes widened. "The pain goes both ways? I didn't know it could do that..."

  "How much did you know about this spell before you used it?"

  "Not much, unfortunately," Emila sighed. "Actually, not a lot of people do. It's not a well-known technique, and what little research has been done on it varies wildly. It is known that if the two people connected are too different in personality, it can produce negative reactions."

  "Negative reactions?"

  "People have killed each other to get out of the tether," Emila said quietly, staring into the fire. "It's driven people insane. There's a good reason I was so hesitant to use it."

  She grew quiet after that. Luca stared at the fire as well, thinking to himself. Around them, the light of the sun faded and the shadows grew bolder, closing in around their small sanctuary of light.

  "Thank you, though," Luca said to her. "I would be dead if you had not done what you did. I'm starting to see what a risk you took to help a total stranger, and I want you to know that I appreciate that."

  Emila met his gaze and smiled.

  Luca did not return it.

  Instead, he unfolded their map and checked the roads, looking for the one they had just crossed.

  "Here we are..." he muttered. "We're close. Allma Temple is only another day's walk away."

  "What will happen when we get there?"

  "I have someone to meet," Luca replied.

  "Yes, Master Dori."

  Luca blinked, a bit surprised she remembered. "Indeed. Hopefully, he can give me some of the answers I'm looking for."

  "Answers..."

  Emila sighed, and turned away from him.

  "He still hasn't told me anything," she said under her breath. "Who he is, where he came from, how he ended up in Forga with an Acarian and covered in snow... He's so..."

  She looked over at Luca, whose back was turned to her. The man whose soul was linked to her own, and yet she knew nothing about.

  "...distant."

 

  They reached the top of the hill, and looked down at Allma Temple below.

  The temple itself was a large stone sanctum built into the side of the hill. Within the temple was a large garden, through which a river ran. Many buildings were built on the left and right sides, making up something of a small town. And finally, a large stone wall ran around the temple, enclosing all of this from the outside world.

  "Well, that's it," Emila said. "Allma Temple. The most prestigious training facility in Torachi. Many of the greatest swordsmen and warriors of the past century were taught there."

  Luca nodded. "And that's where Dori is. Let's not waste any time. I'm eager to meet him."

  He started down the hill, but Emila hesitated. He noticed this, and turned to her.

  "What is it?"

  "Nothing," she muttered. "But... do you really want me coming with you?"

  Luca gave her a puzzled look. "You have to come. You know this. I can't live without you."

  Emila looked down at the ground for a moment, before nodding and following him down the hill. She was glad Luca wasn't looking at her, because that last sentence had made her cheeks burn red.

  They followed the path, nearing the gates of the temple. As they drew closer, the walls seemed to grow larger, until they finally stood above the height of ten men. The gates themselves were a set of wooden double-doors, guarded by a pair of young soldiers in armour. The insignia upon their armour was not that of the Torachi nation, but rather the crest of Allma itself.

  The kingdom of Torachi would often hire warriors trained by the temple, but Allma had always been neutral in times of conflict.

  "Halt," ordered the guards once they were close enough. "State your business."

  "My name is Luca, son of Lodin," he told them. "I've come to see Dori."

  The guards exchanged glances.

  "Better let him know," said one of them.

  The other guard nodded, and knocked three times on the heavy wooden gate. A moment later, there was the sound of chains being pulled, and with a deep groan the wooden gate slowly swung open.

  Luca and Emila started to step inside, but the first guard raised his hand.

  "Just wait there."

  The other guard left, vanishing into the temple interior. A few minutes later, he returned, in the company of a tall man with black hair and a leather coat.

  "Greetings," this man said, offering his hand to Luca. "You may call me Tranom. What did you say your name was?"

  "Luca," he repeated. "The son of Lodin."

  Tranom looked him up and down. "Yes, you certainly look like one of Lodin's kids. You may enter the temple. Who is your companion?"

  Emila bowed politely. "My name is Emila. I'm... well, just a girl from Saeticia."

  Tranom stared
at them for a moment. "Are you two...?"

  Emila's cheeks burned, and she shook her head. "Oh, no. Not at all."

  "It's complicated," Luca said. "But we need to be together for the time being."

  Tranom shrugged. "Very well. We don't let just anyone through our gates, but your father was one of us, so you are welcome here. As long as you swear by the girl, she may enter too, but she is your responsibility."

  Luca glanced at Emila, catching a bit of irritation in her eyes, but she kept silent.

  Tranom then beckoned, and led them into the temple. Once they passed the threshold, the gates closed shut behind them.

  Allma Temple was filled with many teenage students in white robes, who were busy going from place to place. Others were paired off in small sand circles, sparring with wooden weapons, while older instructors supervised.

  Tranom led them through the centre of the temple, towards the sanctum at the far end. On the way, they passed one of the small arenas, where two students were donning wooden armour. As they passed, several of the students spotted him, and pointed out Luca's white hair and spoke amongst themselves.

  "My father trained here," Luca said to Tranom. "I remember he spoke of it from time to time. And I believe he brought me here once."

  "He was one of our best," Tranom replied. "He has quite the reputation."

  "Did you know him?"

  "No, but I've heard the stories," Tranom chuckled. "We all have. I'm guessing your being here means something has happened?"

  "He's dead."

  Tranom stopped walking.

  "Is that right?" Tranom asked after a moment. "By whose hand?"

  "A man named Zinoro."

  Tranom turned and looked at Luca with a contained surprise. Behind him, Emila had stopped dead in her tracks, and drew in a sharp breath.

  "I can see there's much that needs discussed," Tranom said. "But it's not my place to say anything. Masters Allma and Dori will meet with you, and you can speak with them about it."

  Tranom then continued walking, not making any more conversation. Luca followed behind him, and tried to ignore Emila's wide-eyed stare. There was something in her eyes that made him very uncomfortable.

  They reached the sanctum, and stepped inside. The inside was carved of smooth stone and was cool and dark. A young man in robes was waiting for them. Tranom approached the boy and spoke to him.

  "Rael, go tell Master Dori that something very important has happened, and that he should come to the sanctum."

  The young student, Rael, hesitated, clearly not comfortable with the idea for some reason. But he gave no vocal objections. With a curt nod, the boy strode past them and disappeared.

  Tranom turned back to Luca. "I shall go and inform Master Allma that you are here. Wait here until Master Dori arrives." Without waiting for any reply, Tranom passed through the door into the next chamber.

  A few moments of silence passed. Luca waited, aware of Emila's unwavering gaze on his back.

  "What?" he asked finally.

  "Your father died?" she said. "Why didn't you say something?"

  "Because that was none of your concern," he replied without turning around. "I'm not looking for your pity. Or anyone's pity. I'm not here for that. I'm here because I want to see the man who killed him dead." There was a finality in those words that told Emila he had no desire to continue the conversation.

  "Is that right?" asked a new voice from the doorway.

  Luca and Emila turned, to find that the boy Rael had returned, in the company of a grizzled-looking ageing man in tattered grey rags. The old man approached Luca, leaning heavily on a cane with each step. He drew close to Luca, looking deep into his eyes. An uncomfortably long moment passed. Luca said nothing.

  "Yup," the man said. "You're definitely a son of Lodin's."

  "Are you Dori?" Luca asked. He couldn't remember what Dori looked like from his faint memories of his first visit, all those years ago. But when he thought of the man who had trained his father, he hadn't imagined an old man in rags.

  However, the old man nodded. "That's me. And you are?"

  "Luca."

  "Luca..." Dori repeated slowly. "That's right. I remember you now."

  Dori turned back to the young student at the door. "Rael, you're dismissed." The boy nodded, and left them alone.

  Dori moved past Luca, glancing only briefly at Emila. "Allma and Tranom are probably waiting for us. Let's go."

 

  Luca and Emila stood in the centre of the room, while Dori, Tranom, and Allma sat in seats before them. Allma the third was a tall, imposing man with a trimmed grey beard. He had watched Luca warily as they entered, and the introductions and mentioning of his father provoked no reaction from him. Eventually, Luca was asked to present his father's sword, to prove he truly was Lodin's son. He did this, and Allma and Dori both looked over the blade and nodded.

  "As sharp and smooth as when I last saw it," Allma said as he held the blade up and examined it under the light of the overhanging lantern. "You've kept your father's blade in perfect condition."

  Dori stepped forward and took the blade from Allma. "The test was hardly necessary, though. I could tell who he was the moment I saw him."

  "You knew my father well?" Luca asked.

  "I trained him for four years," Dori replied, his eyes distant. "So yeah, I think I knew a thing or two about him."

  "Then you can tell me why he sent me to you," Luca said. "The only advice he ever gave me should he be killed was to come here and speak to you."

  Dori grew quiet for a moment, staring at the sword which he held in his small hands. He ran a finger over the edge of the blade, drawing no blood in spite of its sharpness. He frowned, and finally shrugged.

  "Dunno," he muttered. "I guess it was to point you in the right direction."

  Dori went to Luca and handed him back Lodin's sword. There was a sense of something greater in that simple action - something unspoken between Dori, the sword of his dead student, and the student's son. Perhaps it was Dori's way of saying goodbye to his closest friend. Wordlessly, Luca returned the blade to the sheath at his side, and Dori returned to his seat, looking weary and aged.

  Luca was silent, giving no indication of his frustration. He wasn't sure what it was he had been expecting from his father's old master, but he'd thought he'd get more than a shrug. Perhaps a few answers at the very least, like who Zinoro was, and why he had been after Lodin.

  "So Lodin is dead," Allma said quietly. "And at the hand of Zinoro, according to Tranom."

  "That's right," Luca affirmed.

  Allma sighed, also looking weary from the news. "As his son, you have the right to know why this has happened. What do you know of Zinoro?"

  Ah. It would seem he was to get his answers after all.

  "I know he is Acarian," Luca said. "I know he holds some rank among them. And I know he wields one of the nine fragments of Rixeor. Other than that, I know nothing about him."

  Dori, Allma, and Tranom exchanged glances. Emila stepped up from the back of the room and stared at Luca incredulously.

  "Luca," Emila said to him. "You really don't know who Zinoro is?"

  He returned her stare, unsure what to say.

  "Zinoro is the leader of the Acarian nation," Tranom explained. "Or what remains of it, anyway. He inherited the rule from his father, Manorith."

  "Manorith..." Luca repeated. "That name I certainly know. He was the one who led the invasion of Sono twenty years ago."

  "Indeed," Tranom said. "Acaria was, before then, a prosperous and peaceful nation. But they were struck by a plague that left their land devastated. Green fields turned to deserts. Food was in short supply. At this time, Manorith was just beginning his tenure as the king of Acaria. His people, in their desperation, demanded a solution to the troubles of the kingdom. Manorith provided them with one: the invasion of Sono."

  "And it would have succeeded, too," Dori said, sitting up. "Manorith had superior numbers compared to Sono, which
was emerging from a period peace and ease. But Manorith's mind was not one inclined for mass warfare. He made a number of foolish mistakes that cost him an easy victory."

  "Torachi and Saeticia offered their aid to Sono, but it was not necessary," Tranom continued. "We went there and supplied a number of our skilled students, but even our help made little difference. Sono had all but beaten Acaria before we even arrived, They tried to flee over the mountains back to Acaria, but they had started a conflict, and Sono would not let them get away after that. The Acarian army was crushed, wiping out a large percentage of the already diminishing land. Taking into account the plague that was still ravaging the Acarian homeland, and the population was reduced to a mere fragment of what it once was. These days, it is rare to find an entire family of Acarians."

  "So what does this have to do with my father?" Luca asked. "Why would Zinoro go after him?"

  "I was just finishing training Lodin when the war broke out," Dori said. "Torachi was sending their own forces to aid Sono, and they paid the temple to lend its skilled fighters. Your father and I were among those who went. But by the time we got to Sono, things were starting to wrap up. The Acarians were scattered, and the large scale battles were reduced to manhunts of small squads of Acarian troops."

  Dori took a deep breath before continuing.

  "Publicly, the credit for the death of Manorith went to Zaow, the king of Sono," Dori said in a cold voice. "It was actually your father who found and killed him."

  Emila's eyes went wide and she looked back and forth from Dori to Luca. "You're not serious... It was actually Luca's father who killed the king of Acaria?"

  Dori nodded. "I wasn't there at the time, so I don't know how it happened exactly. All I have are secondhand accounts. Lodin's squad was patrolling the base of the Acarian mountain range, and Lodin stumbled across a cave where a group of Acarians were camped for the night. That group was Manorith and several of his men who had fled with him. Lodin's squad attacked them without realising who was there. One of the Acarians fled the cave, and Lodin pursued him. Half an hour passed before Lodin returned, carrying the helmet of the Acarian king."

  Luca looked down at the ground, silently pondering this story.

  "Only one of the Acarians managed to escape that battle," Dori said. "No doubt he returned to Acarienthia and told the queen what had happened."

  "And her fifteen year old son," Tranom added quietly. "Who later assumed the throne."

  Silence settled over the stone chamber. Allma and Dori were both staring away, expressions of sorrow and regret upon their faces. Emila had retreated back into the rear of the chamber, as quiet as a mouse.

  "So my father killed Zinoro's father," Luca affirmed. "And thus, Zinoro came after him in vengeance."

  "I often told Lodin to deal with Zinoro before it became a problem," Dori muttered. "But he regretted what happened with Manorith. The guilt was too much for him. He became a shadow of his former self, and he swore never to kill another man."

  "That's why he refused to fight back when Zinoro attacked him," Luca muttered. "He just sat there, lost in his own guilt. All those years of travel... I always knew we were running. He never told me who it was he fled from. And when his past finally caught up with him..." His voice grew more quiet with each word; by the end he spoke in a whisper.

  Several moments passed in silence.

  "Well, now you know what happened," Allma said. "You came here and spoke with Dori. Your obligations to your father are fulfilled. You are free to do whatever you wish. You can leave, or you can stay here. The truth of Manorith's death is known among us, and your father is respected for it. The debts we owe him belong to his kin."

  Allma rose from his seat and walked out. Dori watched Allma leave with a strange look in his eye. Once the old man was gone, he turned to Luca and Emila. "So, what are you going to do?"

  Luca glanced at Emila. "That is up to my companion. I am bound to her, and where she goes, I must go. I cannot ask her to stay, as I already owe her for accompanying me here in the first place."

  Emila blinked, then she shrugged passively. "I have nowhere I wish to be. If you want to stay here, I have no objections."

  Luca turned back to Dori. "In that case, I wish to stay here and prepare for the next phase in my plan."

  Tranom joined them. "And what plan is that?"

  "The death of Zinoro," Luca said quietly.

 

  "Can you train me?" Luca asked Dori as they emerged from the sanctum. "The way you trained my father?"

  "If you survived an encounter with Zinoro, I doubt you need my training to begin with," Dori chuckled. "Rather, it is not a lack of skills that separates you from Zinoro, but simply that he carries a weapon that you cannot hope to match."

  "A Rixeor fragment," he said. "Do they really grant such power?"

  "Not quite," Dori replied as they walked. "Rather, they draw out the strongest part of the wielder and remove its inherent limitations. Zinoro is most likely filled with great hatred and anger. The Rixeor fragment amplifies this and turns his emotion into mana power. That is how he has such physical power. Trying to match that would be a waste of your time."

  "Then how can I fight him?"

  Dori frowned, searching for the right words. "Find your own strength. That is how you overcome an enemy like Zinoro. Not with gimmicks like a Rixeor blade. You might think you need to find one, but you don't. You already have what you need to fight him. You just need to learn how to use it."

  Luca held back a cynical retort. Perhaps in stories, that might be true. But in the real world, the outcome of a fight depended on who had the better weapon. And right now, that was Zinoro.

  "Besides, I couldn't train you anyway," Dori muttered. "I have my own good-for-nothing apprentice to deal with. Speaking of which, where is he? I think you should meet him."

  "I believe he is sparring with my own apprentice in the central ring," Tranom said, who was walking behind them with a silent Emila.

  "Ah, excellent," Dori said, grinning for the first time. "Let's go watch, shall we?"

  The elderly man moved with surprising energy, heading for the sand arena in the middle of the temple that Luca and Emila had passed on their way in. A small crowd was gathered around the two students in the centre, and a lone instructor monitored the match. As they drew closer, they could see that the students wore wooden armour, complete with masked helmets that concealed their identities.

  Luca also noticed that a large portion of the audience was comprised of young girls, who were watching the taller of the fighters with doe-eyed expressions.

  The slightly shorter fighter moved with agility and speed, dodging most blows rather than blocking them, and attacking whenever he saw an opening. Despite this, the taller fighter was clearly more skilled; his movements were minimal yet effective, and he wielded his wooden sword like an extension of his arm. He was focusing on pure defence, ignoring many opportunities to counter, yet he was still wearing his opponent down.

  In fact, he almost seemed to be toying with the other fighter.

  "Apprentice!" Tranom shouted. "Wrap this up. Dori needs his student."

  The tall fighter glanced at Tranom for a second, before lunging forth and switching to an aggressive offencive attack. Suddenly, the entire fight was reversed, with the taller fighter forcing the fast one into defence. Within ten strokes of their weapons, the other student was disarmed and on his back.

  Luca tried not to show surprise. He considered himself a rather skilled swordsman, but even he could not have pulled off a feat like that.

  The tall swordsman tossed his wooden sword aside and pulled off his helmet, revealing a olive-skinned, handsome face with slick black hair, and piercing auburn eyes. He looked over at the many girls gathered to watch him, and he winked.

  The fangirls exploded with squees and giggles.

  "Alright, that's enough!" declared the instructor who had supervised the match. "Dismissed! Everyone clear out!"

  The ot
her fighter rose and began to leave, not even bothering to take off the helmet.

  "Ash!" Dori yelled after him. "Come here! I need to speak with you!"

  The student either ignored Dori, or did not hear him. Regardless, he continued marching away in the opposite direction.

  Dori growled. "Damn obstinate boy. Wait here, Luca. I'll bring him back."

  As Dori rushed off, Luca turned to Tranom. "Why does he want me to meet his apprentice so badly?"

  Tranom hesitated. "It's not really my place to say."

  Having removed the rest of the wooden armour, and gotten rid of the crowd of girls, the tall fighter joined them. He moved right past Luca, and extended his hand to Emila first.

  "Hello," he said to her. "Who might you be?"

  Emila meekly took his hand and replied, "Emila."

  "My name is Brand," he said, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. "Will you be training here with us?"

  "Oh, no," Emila said, her cheeks turning red. "I'm uh, just staying here for a bit."

  "Too bad," Brand said. "I could have shown you a thing or two."

  "That was quite a display," Luca said to him, a bit louder than he would have liked.

  Brand let Emila's hand go, which she uncomfortably wiped on the hem of her skirt. "The sparring match, you mean?" he asked.

  "You were toying with your opponent," Luca told him. "You could have taken him down at any time. Why draw it out?"

  Brand stared at Luca for a moment, taking note of his white hair. "There's a bit of history between the two of us. I rarely get such a chance to vent my frustration with him."

  "And you were showing off for those girls."

  "Just giving them what they wanted."

  They stared at each other for a moment, some sort of unspoken challenge in the air. Emila and Tranom watched silently, waiting for something to happen, whatever it may be.

  "Will you be training here, then?" Brand asked Luca.

  "Perhaps," he replied. "If I need it."

  Brand met his intense stare for a moment more, before lunging towards Luca suddenly and without warning, swinging the wooden sword he still carried at his side. Emila gasped aloud, but Luca had already drawn his own sword, and parried the blow.

  The black haired boy broke out into a wide grin.

  "You don't need it," Brand told him. "Your reflexes are sharp. Who trained you?"

  "My father," Luca replied.

  "Of course," Brand said, pulling the training sword back, looking at the long slash that Luca's steel blade had left in it from the contact. "The great Lodin. I wouldn't mind having a match with you up in that arena."

  Luca felt some sort of competitive urge welling up in him, and he had a hard time saying no to Brand's challenge.

  Tranom sighed. "You kids."

 

  It took some time for Dori to catch up with his student, who had returned to his chambers, and was currently stripping away his training armour.

  "Did you not hear me calling for you, boy?" Dori demanded.

  Ash did not reply.

  "No, I know you did," Dori muttered. "That damn rebellious streak is gonna get you in a lot of trouble some day, you know that?"

  Ash removed his helmet, and turned to face his teacher, brushing his long white hair out of his eyes.

  "I have no desire to speak with him," Ash said quietly. "You should understand why."

  Dori frowned. "Really? Ash, he's your last surviving kin. There's no sense in avoiding this confrontation. Sooner or later, he'll find out. He'll see you, or someone will break our rule and tell him who you are. He's your older brother, Ash... what would your mother think?"

  Ash glared at Dori. "Don't use her against me. You have no right... master."

  Dori turned away and looked at the floor, too stubborn to admit Ash was right.

  Ash put the rest of his white apprentice cloak on, and pulled his long hair back into a ponytail.

  "I'm going to see him when I feel like it," Ash said. "On my terms, not yours."

  Dori considered that for a bit. "Very well. You will see him when you choose to. I will speak to Allma, and ensure no one ruins that for you."

 

  Tranom took Luca and Emila and showed them to where they would be staying, which was one of the unoccupied student bed chambers. Being considered a guest, Luca was free to stay as long as he wished, and he had access to any of the temple's facilities, so long as he did not disrupt the usual training activities.

  As Emila was considered his responsibility, she would not be getting her own bedchamber. Neither of them minded, as they had travelled for a week already, taking turns sleeping with no tent or privacy. Sharing a single room was an improvement.

  That is, until they stepped inside and saw the room.

  "Um..." Emila muttered. "There's only one bed."

  Luca turned to Tranom, feeling a bit irritated. "As much as we appreciate your hospitality, what exactly is this supposed to suggest?"

  Tranom raised an eyebrow. "I suggest nothing. All our rooms are like this. A single bed, to be shared by two students."

  The two teenagers exchanged confused glances. "What's the point of that?" Emila asked.

  "It encourages competition among them," Tranom explained. "Or that's what they're supposed to think. It actually teaches them how to get along and manage with limited resources. After long days of difficult training, both students will want to sleep in the bed. Sometimes this leads to fights. Sometimes this leads to both students uncomfortably sharing a bed too small for them. Most of the time, though, they have to figure out a compromise. The beginnings of teamwork."

  Luca rolled his eyes. "An odd method, to say the least."

  "Perhaps," Tranom said. "But an important part of the training here is figuring out things for yourself. The masters provide the tools and the means for this, but only through self-discovery can one grow strong."

  Luca thought back to his father, and the odd spell he had been trying to teach him in his final days, where one was to master the spell without actually learning what it did. He hadn't been able to. Now the scroll he needed to practise the technique and the man who knew its secret were both lost in the frozen wasteland of the Arimos, gone forever.

  "Here," Tranom said, tossing him the key to the room. "Whatever goes on behind closed doors is your own business."

  The sun was just beginning to set. Tranom turned and left, leaving them alone before the open bedroom.

  And its single bed.

  He handed Emila the key and pulled his bags off his shoulder and tossed them into the corner. "We still have all our travel supplies. I'll use my sleeping bag. You can take the bed."

  "That's not necessary," Emila insisted, stepping inside and closing the door. "We can take turns."

  "The chivalrous thing to do is let the lady have the bed," he told her. "I just wouldn't be comfortable sleeping in that bed with you on the floor, even if it's only every other day."

  "Well, that's how I feel!" Emila protested. "Taking turns is the best thing. You'll get back problems or something if you sleep on the floor all the time."

  "I don't want the damn thing, Emila," Luca told her. "I'd rather sleep on the hard, cold ground. Comfort leads to apathy."

  "Well, sometimes you need to just let good things happen!" Emila nearly shouted. "You can't live with just cold distance all the time!"

  "Who says I can't?"

  "I do!"

  An awkward silence settled over the room. Somehow, he got the feeling they weren't talking about the bed anymore.

  "I'm not using it," he said, pointing to the bed. "Ever."

  "Well, neither am I," Emila said, her chin in the air. "So I guess we'll both be sleeping on the floor."

  "That's ridiculous," Luca said. "Just sleep in the damn bed, Emila."

  "Not unless you do," she said, crossing her arms. "And that's final."

  They stared at each other, the tension thick in the air. An immeasurable amount of time passed.

&
nbsp; Finally, he shrugged. "Very well. Enjoy the floor."

 

  "Very well. I will have all the students and masters told before the morning." Allma scratched his beard. "So what do you think about them?"

  Dori paced back and forth in the stone chamber, leaning on his walking stick. "Luca is a lot like his father. And his brother. Stubborn, foolhardy, defiant. He'll do things his way, and no other way. He'll fight anyone who challenges him, and he'll die before he gives his enemy the satisfaction of a surrender. Unlike his brother, he still has some degree of respect for his father." Dori stopped. "And he wants to kill Zinoro more than anything."

  Allma nodded. "And what about the girl?"

  "That Emila?" Dori muttered. "She's just as stubborn, but she's more selective about the things she fights for. She's not as submissive as she lets on, nor is she as naive. Still, she's an optimist, and most importantly, she doesn't like killing."

  "And why do you think that is?"

  Dori shrugged. "Who knows?"

  Allma shifted in his seat, switching the knuckles he rested his chin on. "Your ability to psychoanalyse was always your best trait, old friend."

  At those last two words, Dori found himself glaring at the man in the seat. Allma did not notice; he was deep in thought.

  "And what's the point of this rule of yours?" Dori asked. "Why not just tell Luca about his brother?"

  "I have my reasons," Allma replied. "For the most part, I want to learn a little more about this son of Lodin. We know that Lodin fled with his older son, to train him while he hid from Zinoro, but why would he leave behind the younger son?"

  "And his wife," Dori reminded him.

  "Indeed," Allma said. "If Luca finds out about Ash now, it might draw away from that. For now, let him ponder why Lodin sent him to you, while you train him."

  "So this is definite, then? I have to train both sons?"

  Allma grinned. "Why not? Keep it a family affair, right?"

  Dori scowled, and turned away from the leader, leaning on his cane.

  "He wants revenge for his father's death," Allma muttered. "He's ambitious to go after that man; or perhaps he simply doesn't grasp the situation. Do you think he has a chance at beating Zinoro?"

  Dori frowned. "A better chance than anyone else here. A better chance than his brother, by far."

  "Well, the emissary from Sono should be here in a week. Can you get him ready by then?"

  Dori nodded. "His fighting abilities are sufficient. I'll teach him what I can, but you can't put more tea in a cup that's already full. He's reckless, but he's young. That's not the problem."

  "The problem is that he's too wild," Allma said. "He's not actually one of our students, so our capacity to use him is limited."

  "I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the emissary is after. All we can do is make our best offers and hope for the best."

  "Perhaps," Allma muttered, his eyes distant and thoughtful. He remained like this for several long moments, which Dori took as his sign that the conversation was over. His cane clicking on the stone floor, the old teacher made his way out of the sanctum.

  "His arrival is unexpected, but I think I can make it work," Allma said to himself quietly. "So many variables to consider... but I do think I can make this work."

 

  "You really have no place you want to go?" Luca asked. "Nowhere at all?"

  Emila sighed, and rolled over in her sleeping bag. Luca lay on the other side of the room, his hands clasped behind his head.

  "No, I already told you," she said. "Why?"

  "It bothers me," he told her. "We're linked by the tether, so we have to stay close together or I'll die. So wherever one of us goes, the other has to follow. But you had no problem bringing me here, and now you're going to stay here with us while I prepare."

  "Of course..."

  "You never told me why you were in an abandoned place like Forga to begin with."

  Emila grew quiet.

  "I just... I don't know. I was running, I guess."

  "From what?"

  "From what happened."

  Luca sat up and looked over at her.

  "I understand that you didn't want to tell me about your father, Luca," Emila said. "I understand all too well. But you confided in me today, so I should do the same."

  "I didn't," he insisted. "I didn't confide in you at all. You just happened to be there when I told the story."

  "You could have sent me away," Emila insisted. "But you didn't. It was indirect, but you still told me what happened. Before we got here, I was starting to wonder why you were so distant. I understand now. I know how much loss hurts."

  Emila took a deep breath.

  "I grew up in a city called Sulin, which is east of here," she told him. "My father was the local healer, and he taught me everything I know. My mother was a kind and gentle woman, who took care of me and my younger sister. About two years ago... there was an accident. My parents and my sister all died."

  The room grew quiet. Her story was over as quickly as it had began.

  "I'm sorry to hear that," Luca said, as honest as he had ever been.

  "I never went back to Sulin after they were gone," Emila said quietly. "I spent some time in T'Saw, but things were starting to get heated there and I didn't want to be there if war broke out between Sono and Acaria. So I went to Forga, to get away from everything. That's when I bumped into you."

  She sighed again, and traced her fingers over her belly. "I never told anybody that."

  Emila rested her hand on her stomach, and a single tear ran down her cheek.