by Andrew Rowe
Velas blinked. Fortunately, she knew he couldn’t see her perplexed expression behind the veils.
The guard shook his head, raising his hands. “Okay, you got me. I’ll be faster next time.”
...What?
Velas didn’t recognize this man in the slightest. Did she know him? She wracked her memory, but he didn’t look familiar.
She wasn’t an expert at sight sorcery, but she could feel it if she concentrated. She didn’t sense any on him. Not Jonan in disguise, then.
Velas pulled the knife away. “You’d better be.”
She had no idea why he recognized her, but she also knew how to play along. “Is Captain Nolan still in this building?”
The guard nodded. “Yeah, just around the corner. Think he’s still up.” He turned his back on her — a horrible idea, given how they’d encountered each other — and walked to a doorway. She followed. “Right here. I’ll leave you two alone.”
The guard saluted her, and then headed further down the hall.
She stared after him for a moment, pondering.
Captain Nolan is an Ess, so maybe the guard on his floor is, too. That wouldn’t be a bad security precaution...but that still wouldn’t explain his utter lack of surprise and ease of recognizing me.
Were they warned that I was coming?
Jonan knew I was on the way, and he’s the one who gave me some of the names on my list for Selyr. Maybe he was thinking far enough ahead to warn Nolan that I might stop by, as frustrating as that might be. But he wouldn’t have told some random guard, would he?
Aayara is the only other one who keeps close enough of an eye on me to guess where I was going, and she’s similarly not inclined to chat with random guards.
The other explanation, then, is that I’m expected for an entirely different reason. That could be good or bad.
She didn’t bother trying to break into the captain’s room.
If she was right, then...
She knocked on the door.
A few moments later, an older man in a full Thornguard officer uniform opened it. He took a look at her and gave her a friendly smile. “Ah, Silk! Back so soon?”
Chapter VIII – Taelien III – Prime Nobility
“Breakfast is ready!”
Taelien woke to Wrynn’s voice at the door of his room. Asphodel was reading on her bed on the opposite side of the room. She looked like she’d already been awake for some time.
After groggily dislodging himself from bed, Taelien dressed and headed down to eat. Breakfast consisted of some kind of eggs, sausage, and a heavily spiced porridge.
Wrynn set down a pitcher of apple juice next to it with a wry grin.
Taelien was too famished to bother with a retort. After tearing through his meal, he checked with Wrynn about heading to the auction.
“You’ve got a few days before the action starts. I arranged for a meeting with Kyestri before the action like you wanted, but I’m not sure he’ll be keen to sell the item early.”
“I’d like to beat the competition to it if possible, even if that means an added expense. Can we leave now?”
Wrynn shook her head. “I’ve got other customers to deal with. Let me get them squared away. Should be gone by mid-day, then we go pay Kyestri a visit.”
“Are we going to be able to make it there before nightfall?” Taelien had a general idea of where they were going, but he hadn’t been to the Prime Lord of Stone’s lands before.
“Won’t be an issue. We can get there and back here by evening, so you can leave your things behind if you want.”
“I’ll think about it. For the moment, I’m going to spend some time outside.”
Wrynn gave him a wave and he headed out the door.
Asphodel followed him outside shortly thereafter. She’d been upstairs and too far away to hear the conversation, but he was long past being surprised by her predictive abilities, even if he wasn’t exactly certain how they all worked.
“She mourns for one who should never have fallen.” Asphodel turned her gaze downward. “We must be cautious not to remind her of what she has lost.”
Taelien raised an eyebrow. “Why? Was Kyestri involved somehow?”
Asphodel slowly shook her head. “No. But she has long sought revenge against a force that cannot be contested. And we cannot afford the cost of helping her.”
“A force that cannot be contested? You mean one of the gods, then?”
“I have said too much.” Asphodel bowed at the waist. “May I join you?”
Taelien started to mention that he’d come outside to train, then he realized what she’d just offered. “I’d like that. It’s been too long since I’ve had a sparring partner.”
Asphodel smiled softly. “I know.”
“How are we doing this?” Taelien glanced Asphodel over. She wasn’t carrying any obvious weapons. This was no surprise, since she typically fought unarmed. A portion of her crystalline hair was still gray and lifeless from her battle with Susan Crimson, but he couldn’t see any visible signs that she’d used her delaren transformations to change her body since they’d last met.
“You may fight however you choose.”
“I’ll figure that out as we go, then.”
Asphodel nodded, assuming a basic defensive fighting stance.
Taelien responded in kind, debating how to approach. He left his sword on his belt, undrawn. His control over the Sae’kes had improved significantly, but he still wasn’t comfortable using it while sparring, especially against an unarmed opponent.
Without the Sae’kes, though, he was at a terrible disadvantage.
He did have other weapons — a pair of knives on his belt, as well as the newly acquired Sculptor, currently sheathed and tucked into his right boot. He left those weapons alone for the moment as well. If he was going to use them, he’d want to surprise her with them.
Asphodel couldn’t gaze deeply into his fate like she could with most, but her altered form of perception still allowed her to see and hear things seconds ahead of time. That worked against him just like it did with anyone else.
I could try to hit her too quickly for her to dodge, even if she can see it coming. Or I could try to use flame sorcery on such a broad area—
Asphodel came at him swinging before he had a chance to collect his thoughts. He side-stepped her first punch easily, but she was already swinging a kick into the direction he was moving. He raised an arm to block.
He felt a jolt of agony as her kick smashed into his arm. He stepped backward rapidly, half out of pain and half out of surprise. It had been years since an unarmed attack had hurt him that much, and it wasn’t because he was out of shape. He was the toughest he’d ever been, his body continuously reinforced from years of both physical training and constant sorcery use.
Asphodel simply hit harder than anyone he’d ever fought against, aside from maybe the ten-ton golem they’d used to simulate a Xixian prince in his paladin tests. Others had been faster or more skilled, but no ordinary human he’d encountered could match his own physical strength.
It was easy to forget that Asphodel was neither human nor ordinary.
And that meant that, for the first time in a long time, he could actually put some effort into fighting back.
Asphodel’s next attack came almost immediately, another straight punch aimed at his chest. Rather than blocking, he snapped a kick at her, hoping his speed might be enough to catch her off-guard.
It was a vain hope. She hopped out of the way effortlessly, then danced to the side and threw another kick of her own.
He stepped backward and avoided the kick, but stumbled over a rock. He didn’t fall, but he did stagger for long enough for Asphodel to close in and throw another punch, catching him in the ribs.
Taelien grunted and withstood the pain of the impact. Asphodel threw another punch.
Body of Stone.
The spell flooded his body with stone essence, temporarily increasing his strength and resilience at the c
ost of speed. He had a similar spell called Body of Iron that utilized metal essence, but he couldn’t afford the larger toll it would take on his body against an opponent like Asphodel.
Normally, he wouldn’t have used either spell in an actual fight. The speed cost usually wasn’t worth the benefits to his strength and resilience, except for brief moments and emergencies, like when he’d desperately used it to reduce the damage he’d taken from War’s swords.
In this case, though, Asphodel’s prescience meant that a small change in his speed was unlikely to change the outcome of any given attack, and he needed all the extra durability he could get to survive the beating she was giving him.
Asphodel’s next punch still connected, the impact didn’t rattle him as much. He reacted immediately, grabbing for her arm while it was still extended. If he could get her into a grapple, that would nullify the advantage of her foresight almost entirely.
She jumped back, of course. Even if he hadn’t just slowed himself, he doubted he could have managed to catch her. But as she moved backward, he opened his palm and concentrated again.
Flame Arc.
It was one of the simplest flame calling spells, conjuring a fan-shaped wave of fire to burn everything within several feet in front of him. He felt a chill as the spell extracted its cost, but the effect was worthwhile.
Asphodel anticipated it, of course, but the fire came out too quickly for her to simply jump back. Instead, she hit the floor, dropping below the fire.
That bought Taelien valuable moments to act before she closed back into strike.
Taelien pulled a knife from his belt, shaped it with a pair of thoughts, and hurled it. Asphodel regained her footing just in time to leap aside, then rushed to close back the distance.
He threw another one. Asphodel dodged that as well.
Then she was back in reach, swinging a punch at his jaw.
Her eyes widened and she pulled away just at the last moment, hurling herself to the side.
She just barely avoided the knives as they boomeranged back to Taelien, and then stopped just in front of his chest.
He pointed his hand. The daggers flew toward Asphodel again.
She caught the first one by the blade, then used it to smack the other one downward. It didn’t quite work — the second knife wobbled, then continued forward, scraping across her side.
It might have drawn blood under normal circumstances, but the second shape Taelien had applied to the weapon had dulled the blade. It wasn’t truly harmless — it was still metal — but Asphodel wasn’t easy to hurt, either.
Asphodel threw his first knife back at him. He caught it, then flipped it in his hand, dropping into a lower stance to use it in close range.
Asphodel didn’t approach like he’d expected. She frowned, glancing at the knife on the ground, then looking back to him. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“We’re just sparring, Asphodel. I’m not supposed to be trying to kill you.” He felt his fist tightening around the knife’s hilt, Asphodel’s statement reminding him of similar arguments with Velas.
“You misunderstand. I was not objecting to your role. I was simply realizing my own weakness.” She looked down at the knife again. “If I had been fighting you seriously, I would have been badly injured by a simple trick. Again.”
“You know you landed more hits on me than I did on you, right?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Asphodel shook her head. “You shouldn’t have hit me at all. I... I don’t mean to sound arrogant. But I have to be better. I can’t afford to let people touch me. Not even once.”
“Why...oh.” Taelien nodded. “You’re thinking about what happened with Susan, and how she got away.”
“I told myself that it was a fluke. That she’d caught me off-guard with that void potion. I practiced. I can see things further ahead now. I’m stronger and faster than I was then. But in just a few moments of a sparring session, you realized that I still had an exploitable weakness — I’m still only seeing in front of me.”
“You still avoided the knives without even seeing them. That’s nothing to scoff at.”
She shook her head. “Only barely, by noticing that you weren’t trying to avoid me, even in the future. I knew something was wrong and got out of the way, but I didn’t know what it was. And then you hit me with the second throw. If that knife had been covered with void essence, or even just poison...”
“You’re overthinking this. If you’re going to be fighting people, you’re going to get hit. You can plan for that, train for that. I saw you sparring with Kolask and Teshvol dozens of times. I’m sure getting hit isn’t new to you.”
“You’re right, of course. I’ve prepared for being injured against conventional opponents. I’ve even picked up some emergency supplies.” She opened her belt and pulled out a couple vials. One of them was dark red, which he recognized as being a healing potion of some kind. Such potions were rare and expensive, but he’d seen his friend Arkhen brewing them many years before. “It just feels...insufficient.”
Wish I could afford some of those. And that they didn’t expire so quickly. Maybe she got one of the longer lasting ones from Wrynn, but I think those require supplies from other continents. I can’t imagine having enough money for something like that, she must have dug deep to afford it...or maybe traded Wrynn a favor.
The other potions were pitch black, and he wasn’t sure what they were. Poison, maybe, or void essence? That seemed a little odd for a paladin to use, but he didn’t want to put her in a worse mood by questioning the choice. “Well, your movements have definitely improved. We can keep sparring and getting you some more practice if you’ve got the time.”
“No, it’s just...” Asphodel shook her head, tucking the potions away. “Last time I made a mistake, I failed. Susan got away. And if Sterling had taken the time to fight me...” She reached up a hand to touch the crystals that streamed from her head in the place of hair. “One touch would be all it would take.”
Taelien paused, processing. “He could drain your essence. And that would...”
“...Kill me within a matter of seconds, potentially.”
“Okay. And you were using me as a sort of test to see if you could avoid someone like Sterling getting their hands on you?”
She shook her head. “Not exactly, but something like that. I’m sorry.”
“No need to be. Anyone in their right mind would be afraid of fighting a vae’kes, and you have more reasons than most. But why’d that thought strike you now? Because we’re looking for information on the Shrouded One? I can see that being connected, since Sterling worked for the Shrouded One for a while, but...”
“I’m sorry. I’ve said too much already.” Asphodel took a deep breath. “I... You know I’m not supposed to change events that I see in the future.”
“So, running into Sterling is in our future?” Taelien found his hand slipping to the sword on his side. “Good. I never got a match against him last time. And I’ve been wondering how I’d do.”
“No, no. It’s not like...” Asphodel winced, then she started shivering. “I’m sorry. I’ve said too much.” She glanced from side-to-side. “I need some time. I’m sorry. I can’t go with you today. Just... ah, be careful, okay?”
“I will be.” Taelien wasn’t really certain that was true, and his tone reflected that.
Asphodel just nodded, bowed for some reason, and headed back inside the tavern.
Taelien sighed, picked up his other knife, and sheathed it.
Well, he considered, that wasn’t foreboding or anything.
***
Taelien spent the next hour practicing with some of the dominion bonded he’d picked up.
He started with Sculptor, holding the knife out and closing his eyes. His hand was tight against the metallic grip, letting him feel the metal more effectively. Through that, he could feel where the hilt connected to the blade, and the fainter sense of the stone essence that imbued the weapon.
He reached for that stone essence. Stone had never been his specialty, but the knife’s aura felt easier for him to connect to than an ordinary piece of rock. He wasn’t sure if that was because of his practice with using enchanted weapons, or because the stone was connected to a piece of metal, or some other reason entirely.
In any case, it was an opportunity for practice he had no intention of ignoring.
Body of Stone.
He felt the familiar sensation of stone essence flooding his body, but in greater quantities than usual. Some portion of it was from the Dominion of Stone itself, but he was also drawing directly from the knife, just as he’d hoped.
Release Body of Stone.
The spell ended, and he sensed no ill effects on his body from the increased amount of stone mana he’d been using. Taelien smiled, stretched, and did it again.
Body of Stone.
With the spell active again, he began his standard workout routine.
He’d been taught to use Body of Stone as a part of his workout routine when he’d been doing his mandatory military training many years before. Res’vaye, his instructor, had taught him that years of practicing with the spell active would gradually build up the amount of stone essence that his body generated, permanently increasing his strength and resilience. That natural buildup of essence wouldn’t slow him down the way the spell itself did, since it occurred slowly enough for his body to acclimate and compensate.
After about a half hour of using the knife, Taelien was feeling uncharacteristically exhausted.
Must be putting more strain on me, since the spell is stronger than usual.
He kept practicing anyway, hoping that exhausting himself would encourage his body to work even harder to build up his strength.
After another half hour, exhaustion was turning into pain, and he decided it was time to stop.
He slipped Sculptor away, switching to simply sitting down with Ulandir’s Ghost Lantern lit next to him instead. He wasn’t sure if it would provide him with any benefit, but he needed to rest regardless. The enchanted lantern’s light cast the entire area with a strange grey glow, but Taelien was used to it.