“On that,” the dwarf grunted. “Two points. One, I wasn’t using shaping magic in combat. I had already shaped the magic into those figurines. Two, you’re right, carvings aren’t supposed to explode, unless you screw up on purpose. I shaped flaws into each of those carvings as I made them, and in a way for their construction to come apart explosively. If you’re good, you can do that while shaping another effect into the carving to add fire, or extra shrapnel, or some other very bad thing to the now-broken carving.
“But that takes a lot of time and materials, so it’s not something you want to use for every fight. It’s much better to shape something you use all the time. Like a weapon or a piece of clothing.”
“Can I use shaping magic to help me repair something?” I asked, remembering my track record with armor so far.
“Now you’re getting it.” The dwarf grinned from behind his thick beard. “For practice, I want you to take that sorry excuse for a spear out and work on its edge a little. Try and shape an effect into it.”
I had learned the basics of gear maintenance by now. I tried to get Breena to teach crafting to me at one point, but that was when she threw up her hands and started screaming at me about being an overachiever and her not having any time off. It was one of the other reasons I kept spare skill points, because I couldn’t shake just how important crafting had been in the last five online games I had played, and just how annoying it had gotten when I wasn’t able to make at least some of my own stuff.
But enough of that. I pulled out the militia spear some mysterious entity had awarded me for killing other projected Earthborn as well as a basic whetstone. As I ran the spear blade over the rock, I projected my mana into it in the way Eadric had shown me earlier, mixing my intent to have a sharper spear along with my knowledge of the metal sharpening process. Keep this new edge, I mentally imparted to the lifeless object.
The metal gleamed brightly for a moment, then returned to its normal state. But Eadric nodded and grunted in affirmation, and a moment later my mindscreen informed me that I had gained the skill of shaping magic.
This magic excited me the most. Script magic had a lot of useful tricks and song magic could be great in many situations, but if I had enough time and knowledge to do shaping magic, the possibilities were theoretically endless. In fact…
“Hey, hold on for a second,” I said, pulling a spare leather strap and wrapping it around a crack I could see in the wood, projecting my intent for the wood to not warp or break upon violent contact. A moment later the wood shimmered briefly as well. My mindscreen informed me that the item had been reinforced as well as sharpened. “Hah! It worked! This is really useful!” I looked back up at the three Testifiers. “No offense, but why doesn’t everyone learn this kind of magic?”
“Because not everyone likes to make things,” Weylin said with a shrug.
“Because others do not wish to be constantly asked to make magic tools by everyone they know,” Karim added dryly.
“Because it takes a lot of work, time, and money,” Eadric rumbled at the end. “And it’s disappointing when you realized the shaping effect you first figured out on your own isn’t that powerful.”
“Wait, what?” I asked, looking at my spear.
“For a good bit of mana and stamina that grows back at a much slower rate, you’ve empowered your spear to handle maybe one more violent blow before it breaks.” The dwarf pointed at the band I had tightened around the crack.
“That one attack could be the difference between life and death,” I countered. “And what do you mean it cost me stamina as well?”
“I mean the three Saga magics also cost a bit of stamina to perform, since they’re not as innate as Ideal magic and because they all require a physical exercise of some kind. Wearing heavy armor or carrying a heavy load makes the drain even greater. That stamina might be the difference between life and death as well.”
“That just means I shouldn’t shape anything right before a fight,” I pointed out.
“Yup. That’s one of the basic rules.” Eadric nodded. “But it’s part of the reason people consider shaping magic to be a pain in the ass instead of an exciting skill. Especially at the beginning when you can’t do that much.”
Fortunately, thanks to the video-game-esque nature of reality here, I could now spend part of the power I had gained from Rising to advance my knowledge of these three skills almost instantly.
“But back to not combining magics,” I said. “It still seems to me like I could enhance myself with singing while I was trying to work shaping magic, and then scribe some script into the item for extra effect.”
The three of them all sighed at once. A musical titter suddenly sounded out from behind and above me. Then, from out of a tree I had never paid attention to, Breena flew out and down to us in a streak of pink light.
“I told you he’d come up with his own plan!” the spiky-haired woman shouted triumphantly. “Pay up!”
“Sorry, what’s going on?” I asked, confused.
“They didn’t believe me when I told them about your labor-based masochism,” Breena said with a smug sniff. “They figured you’d pace yourself when you learned how hard it was to perform all three magics in one day. They didn’t think you’d want to make the training unreasonably harder by experimenting with forbidden alterations.”
“But they said all it would cost was materials, mana, and stamina,” I argued. “And I’m trying to save the world anyway—sorry, worlds, plural—so why wouldn’t I risk discovering every sneaky advantage I could find?”
“Because sometimes it’s just good to focus on two or three things so that you can actually get good at something?” Eadric asked sarcastically.
“I tried that!” I said, exasperated. “But this isn’t Earth. These worlds reward you so much for just the tiniest bit of effort, and they even help you track your gains! And me being a Challenger means I learn skills even faster, so I hit my limits even sooner! Why would I waste all that extra free time?”
“I told you he was crazy,” Breena said with an even smugger tone. “But did anyone believe me? Nooooo. ‘You’re exaggerating, Breena! Wes doesn’t have any kind of complex, Breena! It can’t possibly be as bad as you’re saying, Breena!’”
She went through at least three different voice impressions, making me wonder about just how many people she had complained about me to.
I was about to ask about that, as well as about how the three Testifiers were expected to pay a girl that didn’t need to spend money on anything but processed sugar. Then I reminded myself that I had a kingdom now and I might need to look up on the whole currency issue.
Then I heard a high-pitched feminine shout, and a clang of metal.
“Breena!” I said sharply. “Is Virtus training the militia right now? Because if he isn’t, we’re under attack!”
She turned slowly, instead of quickly, which meant that she knew what was going on and that it wasn’t an emergency. Then I caught the guilty look on my fairy’s face.
“Breena,” I repeated slowly. “Is there something I should know about?”
“Um,” she fidgeted.
I heard another clang and shout, and this time I recognized the voice.
My emotions took over. I immediately blasted myself with Air magic, activated the speed chant Weylin had just taught me, and bounded toward the direction of the voice.
#
I reached the training grounds, the source of the sound. It was also a place where I knew that no one was supposed to be training right now. I knew that because I felt it was my job as a leader to pay attention to exactly when my citizens were scheduled to learn about killing and fighting for their lives.
The voice I had heard yell out was one I knew had no business having to fight anyone. Because she was far too young. And because she had already suffered through all kinds of trauma and really didn’t need the experience of mortal combat on top of it.
And finally, because she was my sister, god-damnit
.
Correction: she was my adopted sister. And the courts had canceled the adoption at the last minute because of my Dad’s framing and murder, but I was done letting that count. She was another family member Rhodes’ assholes had tried to take away from me, that I had let get put in harm’s way because I was stupid and trusted the system.
I had no intention of reinforcing that harm by forcing her to fight, bleed, and kill.
And inexplicably, she was doing just that.
Valerie, a short, dark-haired fourteen-year-old girl who was supposedly a third-generation Vietnamese immigrant, had wound up abandoned by her family in my town for reasons I had never gotten the whole story on. She was the oldest of the three girls my family had tried to adopt and all of us had spent time with her, seeing her in church, helping her with her homework at school, and looking out for her whenever we could because my parents were super-passionate about helping the poor and needy and because Val always seemed like the girl who would go places if she was just given half a chance.
She stood some distance away from Virtus, the giant skeletal hoplite-legionnaire commander and trainer of my people. The same one I had decided I could learn a lot more lessons from. He was in a combat pose, holding one short blade, and Val stood away from him as if they had just broken apart from a clash of blades.
Speaking of blades, Val happened to be holding them as well. One longer one, still a short blade but long for her size, and a short dagger-sized blade that still looked big in her hands. She was panting, thankfully unharmed, and keeping both blades far enough away from each other to avoid tangling herself up. In fact, she was showing more aptitude than I had for that style of fighting.
That was as far as my rational brain got before the screaming half took over.
“VIRTUS!” I screamed, landing near them in a blast of Air magic, Fire magic, and Rise-enhanced strength. “EXPLAIN!”
That fleshless face stared back at me. If he hadn’t paused, I would have no way of knowing he felt confused and hesitant.
“Teaching your people how to fight, sir,” the ancient warrior said slowly. “Per your earlier instructions, I was to accommodate anyone wanting advanced lessons into my schedule whenever I felt I had time. The young woman has been asking me for lessons since before the last attack.”
“SHE’S FOURTEEN!” I screamed, not having any of this.
“Yes sir,” the soldier said slowly. “Four years younger than yourself. I’ve adjusted her lessons to take that into account.”
“WHAT LESSONS?” I shouted, ignoring that part of me that suggested I should maybe switch to my inside voice now for this conversation. “WHO THE HELL IS MAKING HER FIGHT?”
“I’m sorry,” a small voice behind me said.
I turned around and winced immediately.
Val was standing with her head hung low, her black hair covering her face. She seemed to be shrinking into herself, shoulders hunched, weapons hanging low and away but trembling, as if she was about to drop them any minute and start crying.
A hundred voices inside my head started screaming that I was an asshole, that I had failed her again, that I had never gotten it right and I was only making it worse. And now a girl I had spent years telling myself was going to become my sister, that had spent the last two years being threatened by men who were going to have the most horrible intentions regarding her, was dealing with another man screaming over her.
“Val,” I said, quietly this time, desperately wishing I had the last few minutes to do over again. “I didn’t mean…”
“Wanted to help,” she mumbled through her hair. “To not be in the way.”
“You’re not in the way,” I said quickly and softly. “This isn’t your fault. You don’t need to do anything—”
“Yes.”
Her head suddenly snapped up, making her whole body flinch. Her black eyes made contact with my own for the second time in two years.
“Yes I do,” she said louder, with a trembling, but defiant, voice. “I need this too.”
I was at a loss to answer that. I wanted to tell her that killing the people that imprisoned us hadn’t brought me any closure yet and probably wouldn’t work for her either. I didn’t know how, but I tried anyway. “You shouldn’t have to, and I’m sorry if I—”
“Stop,” she trembled again, keeping her eyes on me. “Stop apologizing. I mean it.”
She still shook. But her eyes flashed as she talked now.
“What?” I asked with a cocked head, wondering how I was screwing up now, and wishing I already knew how to fix it.
“Stop saying that this is all your fault.” Her voice rose, then kept rising. “I was the one that lied, and said your dad did horrible things! I was the one that avoided you all those years, when all you did was try to help! I was the one that heard about you getting crippled, and did nothing!”
“That’s not fair and you know it,” I said as my brain started working again. “You couldn’t—”
“I know I couldn’t!” my oldest adopted sister screamed at me. “I’m tired of couldn’t! I’m tired of needing saving! I’m tired of watching bad things happen to the handful of good men that care about me! And I’m tired about remembering that time in the dungeon when something horrible almost happened to me, and then you dragged yourself over to stop it, and then you died even more horribly because of it! Because I couldn’t do anything but stand there and watch!”
My head shook as I remembered that violent flashback I went through just before Raw-Maw’s attack. I had thought that girl had only looked like Val. The situation started to make a tiny bit more sense.
I still didn’t know what to say, though.
“I need this too,” she said, her voice firm even though her shoulders were still shaking. “I need to be able to fight too. I can’t figure anything else out until I can hold my own. To where you don’t have to drop everything and get hurt again, just for me. And if you really want to let me be your sister—” her shoulders stopped shaking—“you’ll let me do this. So that you can turn your back on me without worrying about me and blaming everything that went wrong on yourself. Because that makes me feel helpless too.”
Her words knocked the wind out of us both. I had no answer for her whatsoever. What was I supposed to say? ‘Sure, Val, you can go ahead and get in sword fights with creatures three to four times your size. I know you just picked up a sword this week, but hopefully you’ll get the hang of it and not die horribly.’
Isn’t that what we do, though? Teeth spoke up suddenly in my mind.
I…
We’re learning mortal combat and magic much faster than anyone expected. And you just got a handle on like three more types of magic. She’s from Earth too, so there’s a good chance she can duplicate at least some of what we can do. And unlike you, she shouldn’t be down to one life.
I blinked at that. Val was still staring at me, still shaking, but not backing down.
I just want her to finally be safe, I said back.
We both do. And we’ve already screwed up. Won’t she be safer if she can protect herself?
Damn it. He had a point.
I took a breath and looked around. Breena had flown over to me and was wearing a very guilty expression on her face.
“She’s been training for a while, hasn’t she?” I asked calmly.
My fairy companion gave a guilty nod.
“She’s been with Virtus for about a week.”
“And you didn’t tell me,” I added. A statement, not a question.
“I… didn’t know the right thing to do,” Breena admitted. “You both weren’t ready to talk to each other yet. I’m not sure you’re ready now, either. But Guineve and I both realized she needed a way to move forward, and this worked the best.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. I turned to look at Virtus. “How is she as a student?”
“Attentive,” the skeleton admitted. “She’s persistent, but she also adjusts well to her limitations. When she can’t figure
out a weapon, she switches to look for one more suited to her. So far small swords and lighter blades work the best for her. She’s learning them very quickly. Faster than you did, in fact.”
“How does she handle your longer reach?” I asked.
“She’s fast for her size,” Virtus continued. “She closes distance quickly, and disengages almost as fast. She’s got a lot of upper body strength to work on, and she won’t win an arm-wrestling contest with anyone but Breena—”
“Hey!” my fairy companion shouted. “No size-shaming!”
“But as long as she doesn’t freeze up during her first combat, I’d give her very good odds against the weaker Horde we’ve battled.”
I sighed, gritted my teeth for a moment, and made up my mind.
“Alright, Val,” I said finally. “I can figure out how to be cool with this on one condition: I get to help train you.”
“Wes…” Breena began cautiously.
“No,” I answered. “Virtus can teach her more about weapons than I will ever learn myself, but none of you know what it feels like to suddenly go from magic-less Earth to the magic-filled rest of the universe. Virtus will keep teaching her combat. I’ll teach her how to handle being an Earthborn outside of Earth. And Breena can help teach her about any Ideal magic she can discover. Assuming you haven’t already been doing so and just haven’t told me yet.”
“Ummmm.” The little fairy started fidgeting again.
“Nevermind.” I shook my head. “You’re right. There’s a lot I’m not ready to handle with this. We can talk about her magic later, as long as you tell me about anything I really need to know.”
“Wes,” Val spoke up again. She had stopped shaking, but now her eyes watered. “Thank you. I… thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I said, then screwed up my own courage, “sis.”
She smiled at me then. For the first time in over two years.
CHAPTER SEVEN: RAIMENT
“Are you alright, dear Wes?” Guineve asked me, her voice tinted with concern.
“Yeah,” I said, shaking my head. “Just the after-effects of using pirated software.”
Woad Children (Challenger's Call Book 3) Page 7