The Student

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The Student Page 7

by Darin Niemann


  “I never expected to see you again. With the state you were in I’m surprised you even remember that night at all.”

  He bellowed loudly with laughter.

  “That was nothing, I assure you. Many times have I been worse off than that.”

  Idly, I wondered what could be worse than being drunk and fighting against three armed mercenaries.

  Returning my thoughts to the present, I asked, “So you are a teacher here at the Academy?”

  “I do teach people, but I am independant. My skills as a swordsman are widely sought after, some for training, some for fighting. After all, I am one of the best.”

  He clearly wasn’t the humble sort, but I liked his straightforward attitude. And, from what I had seen that night years ago, he had every reason to boast.

  The man tapped his chin thoughtfully.

  “You, though, have my interest piqued. Last we spoke, you were a healer’s apprentice. And from the looks of it, you still are.”

  “Indeed, I am here as a healer in training.” I confirmed.

  He nodded, but then tilted his head. “And you have never trained with the sword?”

  I shook my head, “No, I had a rough day and was wandering aimlessly. I was angry and the dummy being right in front of me presented an easy target.” I shrugged before continuing. “That was the first time I have ever held a sword.”

  He stroked his chin softly as he thought.

  “Interesting...” He stared at me in silence. We stood there, simply looking at each other. I had no idea why he was so curious.

  “What of it?” I asked, as the silence was getting to me.

  He shook his head and smirked. “It is impressive really. Your very first time holding a sword, and you don’t even realize what you did.”

  Now getting a bit frustrated, I still didn’t understand what he was talking about.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You, on your first attempt, had nearly perfect form. It is quite astounding.”

  I frowned in doubt. “But I clearly missed, If I had perfect form, wouldn’t I have hit the same spot you did?”

  “Indeed. The reason you missed, however, was not your stance, it was your arms. They are unused to the weight of a sword, thus you couldn’t correctly move the sword itself. It takes many hours of practice to make a blade feel normal, let alone have it become a mere extension of yourself. What is astounding is that you had perfect form and your stance was flawless.”

  “I simply imitated your stance. How is that difficult?” I questioned, still disbelieving that I had done anything of import.

  He laughed, shaking his head. “Most people cannot just ‘imitate’ a stance. Many soldiers take years before they perfect a form. The problem is that they cannot control every minor part of their body at the same time without intense training. You, on the other hand, seem to not have this problem. With natural talent such as yours, you have the potential to be a blademaster, perhaps one better than myself.” He paused, as if just now realizing he was speaking to a healer’s apprentice. He shrugged. “If anything, training is a good way to focus and relieve stress. I can usually be found here on most nights. If you want to give it a try, let me know. I owe you one from all those years ago.”

  He started to turn and walk away when I realized that I still didn’t know his name. I called out one last time, “What’s your name?”

  He kept walking as he slightly turned his head and yelled back. “Dante!”

  As he left, his hand waved farewell behind him. Before tonight, my interest in learning to fight with a sword was merely whimsical. Now, after having swung a real blade, it didn’t seem to be such an outlandish idea.

  I looked down at my hand, still able to picture the sword in my grasp. Maybe this was how I could fend off Max and his goons. I would have to think more on it tomorrow, as it was getting late. It was a peaceful walk back to my room and, even with my injuries, I slept well.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning, Erik and I walked to the dining hall to eat breakfast. My bruises were painful but I suffered silently to not bring attention to my injured state. I knew that Erik would be furious if he found out what Max and his brothers had done. With Erik’s own schooling and royal duties I figured that he had enough problems to attend to.

  The lunchroom seemed to be overflowing with people as we arrived. The steady hum of numerous voices jumbled together flowed throughout the room. It was actually kind of nice.With the amount of students present, it became easy for Erik to blend in and simply be Erik the student and not Erik the prince. We joined the waiting line for receiving food and I took the time to glance around the room. I really wasn’t ready for another run-in with Max and his brothers.

  Thankfully, I couldn’t spot them anywhere. I did see another person I recognized though. Iselle was sitting alone at the end of a table eating her breakfast. I supposed that now would be as good a time as any to introduce them. After finally being served our meal, I nudged Erik on the shoulder to get his attention. He followed my arm as I pointed to Iselle’s table.

  “The brunette girl?” he asked while giving me a questioning gaze.

  I nodded, “She is the one I told you about. I did promise to introduce her to you.”

  Erik sighed, but nodded his head reluctantly. He clearly didn’t expect much to come of this meeting. I, on the other hand, was interested in seeing how this all played out. We picked our way through the students as we neared Iselle’s table. She looked up as we set our trays down on the table. We stayed standing and Iselle also stood as I nodded to her.

  “Prince Erik, meet Iselle. Iselle, meet the Prince of Erelith, Erik.” I said. I hoped that was good enough as I wasn’t exactly knowledgeable on the protocol involving introductions.

  Iselle curtsied deeply while Erik bowed slightly. I had heard that the deeper the bow meant more respect for a higher station. Iselle, being an apprentice, was not that near in station to that of a prince.

  “May we join you for breakfast?” The prince asked. His tone of voice was impressively sincere. I knew that he really wanted nothing more than to find our own secluded table, but his royal manners forbid him from saying so.

  “Certainly.” Iselle said as she gestured to the seats across from her. We all sat and began to pick at our meals.

  “Did I mention that she is Havarsen’s apprentice?” I said to Erik.

  As I spoke Havarsen’s name his eyebrows raised significantly, “Havarsen? The master tradesman?” He directed his last question towards Iselle.

  She nodded, “Indeed, the one and only. Hence the reason for our meeting here rather than elsewhere.”

  Now that the conversation was in their hands I merely ate my food and watched.

  “Ah, Havarsen is not much for social gatherings, though I have met him once or twice. He was a straightforward fellow.” Erik commented.

  Iselle nodded, “That much is true. He advised me to meet with you outside of such noble gatherings.”

  Erik smiled broadly and reached out to rest his hand on my shoulder. I glanced at him in confusion. He nodded to me and turned back towards Iselle, making sure his words were clear. “Outside of those functions, I tend to have little spare time. That time I tend to spend with my true friends, like Kayne here.”

  I was surprised. Erik was basically stating that he associated with me, a street urchin, over those of noble status. He was standing by me as a friend, though perhaps he was also trying to push her away by using my lesser born status to scare her off. Either way, I was grateful that he considered me a friend.

  Iselle glanced at the hand positioned on my shoulder, a clear sign of friendship. Unlike most other nobles grimacing reactions hers was merely a shrugging of the shoulders.

  “I don’t have a problem with that.” She said simply, before continuing to eat.

  Erik dropped his hand from my shoulder as he stared, mouth slightly opened with shock. I laughed aloud at his expression. I hadn’t quite expected th
at from Iselle, but I knew her to be quite a bit different from other nobles I had met. I had a feeling that she would fit right in. The rest of our lunch was mostly spent in silence, with Erik stealing curious glances at Iselle. Even later that night, he still couldn’t come to terms with her acceptance of me.

  ~

  A few days later found me still thinking whether or not I should take up Dante’s offer. I knew that such an undertaking would require a lot of effort in order to succeed. It wouldn’t interfere much with my healer’s courses as I already knew most of the information that they were meant to provide. Enelo had prepared me well enough as many of the subjects that the masters taught were merely repetition. If need be, I could simply stop pursuing weapons training altogether in order to focus on my healer’s studies. I decided I would meet Dante that night and accept his offer for guidance.

  I spent the first half of the day in classes, constantly distracted by thoughts of Dante and of learning the sword. It was hard to focus, and I sometimes had to review material twice to make certain I wasn’t missing anything new that Enelo hadn’t previously taught me.

  As my last class for the day ended, I went back to my dorm to rest a bit. I was laying down and reading when Erik came in from his practice. He always practiced in full armor, saying that was how he would have to fight in a real battle. I thought of Dante as I glanced at the armor. Perhaps Erik knew of the mysterious red-haired swordsman.

  I spoke up as the prince began stripping off his gear. “Have you ever heard of a swordsman named Dante?”

  Erik looked at me as if I was daft.

  “Have I heard of him? Of course I have! He is one of the best swordmasters north of the Caer Woods. They say he has yet to be beaten in a one on one match. Why do you ask?” He looked at me curiously. Not yet wanting him to know of my dealings with the blademaster, I quickly thought of a reason for my interest.

  “I heard someone talking about him in the lunchroom and wondered why he was so well regarded.”

  Erik spoke up in an excited tone. “I have heard rumors he was seen in the city recently, but nobody seems to knows what he is here for.” He glanced up at the ceiling in contemplation. “Someday I wish to duel him. It would be a great measure of skill to defeat someone of his ability.”

  “Indeed it would.” I responded, ending the conversation as I pretended to focus my attention on my book.

  Now that I knew a bit more of him, I couldn’t help wonder why Dante would offer to take time in teaching me. Especially since I had no previous weapons training whatsoever. I would have to ask him later tonight when I went to meet him.

  After eating my last meal of the day, I spent some time in the library brushing up on a few subjects that I might need for future classes. Once I judged it late enough, I made my way towards the sparring grounds. The halls were fairly quiet after the evening meal. Most of the students were in their rooms by now, except for those few extremely dedicated apprentices.

  As I arrived in at the training grounds, I noticed again that there were hardly any students left. There were only a handful of people still practicing, paying no attention to anything else but their own training. I found Dante advising a student and silently waited nearby as he spoke to the trainee.

  “You are getting closer, but remember to keep your stance intact even while you swing. And, you don’t need to use all of your power in every strike. All it takes is one well placed cut to fatally injure your opponent.”

  Dante glanced in my direction and noticed me patiently waiting.

  “Tomorrow you can continue practicing. Rest well tonight and be prepared for tomorrow.”

  The novice, taking the hinted dismissal for what it was, bowed and left. The blademaster walked over and studied me for a moment before speaking.

  “You still seem hesitant after having plenty of time to think it through. What is your decision?”

  For another moment I thought it through before nodding.

  “Yes, I wish to learn.”

  He smirked, “Good.”

  Moving to a nearby weapons rack, Dante dug around a bit before retrieving a blunted training sword.

  “Watch.” He commanded. Approaching a training dummy, he positioned the sword out in front of him, tip upward. He then swung it straight up and back down again, hitting the dummy between its shoulder and neck. He then held out the sword to me.

  “Your turn.”

  I took the same stance that he had used and positioned my weapon with its tip facing up towards the dummy’s face. I swung it up, then back down again, the same as Dante had done. I then looked over to see him nod.

  “Perfect.” He confirmed.

  I felt a slight glow of pride, but it hadn’t been that hard of a maneuver.

  “Now, repeat that same strike with the same stance a hundred times each night for two weeks.”

  With that said, he turned to leave. I nearly dropped my sword in disbelief.

  “Wait, are you serious?” I called as he walked away.

  “I‘m deadly serious. Do it or not, it is your choice. I’ll be back in two weeks. I have some business to take care of until then.”

  He waved lazily behind him as he left. I could almost feel his grin from all the way over here. Angry, I almost threw the sword down and forgot the whole thing, but then I stopped and thought through the situation logically. There were a number of reasons as to why he would tell me to do this. It could be as simple as him letting me know that he was the master and I was the student. He had said that he would be back, but my trust was not something obtained that easily. On the other hand, what could it hurt? If anything, I would get some exercise and vent any frustrations that I had. I took a deep breath, and lifted the sword into position.

  I awoke the next morning, wishing I had not finished those hundred swings. My arms and back were extremely sore. The bruises of the beating I had received in the gardens were also still reminding me of their presence. Going to class was the last thing I wanted to do, but the teacher had said that a test was coming soon. I wanted to make sure I did well, as my performance would affect Enelo’s reputation as a teacher.

  Groaning, I rolled out of bed and readied myself for the painful day ahead. The prince, being an early riser, was already gone. Last night I had dreamt of sparring with Erik. My sword had felt immensely heavy and I had ended up dropping it from lack of strength. He had then proceeded to laugh at me while I dropped to the ground in defeat.

  I shook my head. Erik wasn’t the type of person to do those things. Dreams were strange things; they were able to twist normal, everyday situations and events into a bizarre mix of randomness. Though, sometimes the dreams did seem to have some semblance of order. Interesting, yet completely fruitless, this sequence of thought would have to wait, as my class time was drawing near.

  The last thing I grabbed was the book that the librarian had found for me. It had been a useful book, but I had read through it and studied it aplenty. It seemed right to thank him for providing me with such knowledge, so I would return it directly to him, instead of simply replacing it on the shelf.

  I locked up as I left and made my way to class. I hated the teacher for what he had done on my first day, but I had to admit that he knew the material that he taught well. So I buried my anger at him and focused on the lessons he taught. He, for the most part, ignored me most class periods. Except for the occasional scowl or scoff thrown in my direction.

  At this point, the other students paid relatively no attention to me. Which also meant that none went out of their way to befriend me either. I was fine with that. My goal at the Academy was to gain knowledge, not to gain friends. With that in mind, it became easier to keep my anger under control.

  During class, we were informed that the test was in two day’s time. I was ready to take the test right this moment, but from the troubled and nervous faces of most my classmates they didn’t feel the same.

  As my first class ended, I made my way to the library. I tried to relax as I entered,
attempting to rub the soreness out of my shoulder. No matter how hard I tried, though, the soreness never receded.

  The library was quiet, as usual. Even when filled with many students and teachers, the library was always silent. I approached the librarian’s desk as I spotted him there, sorting through a large pile of books. Absorbed in the task at hand, he was oblivious of those around him and did not notice me until I politely, and softly, coughed to grab his attention.

  He turned slightly to glance at the noise. “Already finished with ‘Remedies - The Many Uses’?”

  A bit startled that he remembered me, let alone the exact name of the book I had borrowed, I replied. “Yes, I am surprised you remember. You must lend many books out each day. It has been nearly two weeks since I was last here.”

  The librarian continued working as he talked quietly. “It has been exactly twelve days since I gave you that book. And yes, as to your question, this library loans out hundreds of books each day. No, I do not remember each and every one of them but I clearly recall the day I lent you that book, as I have been trying to get Master Willard to change that recommended text for a while now.”

  Still slightly puzzled I asked, “Why would you be interested in which texts are used for classes?”

  The old man paused in his sorting to look up at me with a half-grin. “Has anyone ever told you that you ask a lot of questions?”

  I blushed at his bluntness and was about to ask forgiveness when he waved my concerns away.

  He continued in a more serious tone. “It is a good thing, to question. Questions lead to knowledge, and knowledge leads to power.” He gave me a strange look as if he knew something I did not. “Especially here, knowledge is everything here.” I somewhat understood what he was saying, but that last bit was a mystery. The seriousness had vanished from the librarian’s face as he carried on.

  “As to your question, I used to teach that same course, before I became the librarian. Master Willard was my replacement, but he changed the way the course was taught, and not for the better. I sometimes think he did it merely to spite me, though I know not why. It is frustrating to sit idly by and watch while his poor teaching affects the academy as a whole.”

 

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