Shaping Magic (Mistakes Return)

by Michael Dalrymple

  Again, Lindon didn't say or do anything with his victory; he simply went back to his original position and waited for the next. He knew that he had to conserve all his energy, for that was only two down and still another thirteen to go.

  The fights started to blur together Lindon lost track of how many he had done, but after each opponent fell he would return, waiting for the next. He was standing at the ready. Blood poured down the side of his face where he had received a blow to the head from an elbow of the man he had just downed.

  His next opponent was the Elf girl. He had forgotten that she was a warrior too and that he would have to face her. There was no stopping now, though she would have to be defeated if he was to attain the swords, and there was nothing that would stop him from achieving them.

  He knew that this fight would be his hardest yet because of the grace and the fluid way she moved. It would make it harder to find the right opening. She did not waste anytime on talk but as soon as the old man gave the go-ahead, she came at him with her practice sword weaving. She was truly beautiful to watch.

  Not having time to appreciate the girl’s movement, Lindon had to fight hard to keep up to her speed. She could change direction of her blade with very little effort, and her speed was incredible. Lindon was backpedaling for the first five minutes of the fight, but he was able to keep her blade from scoring any hits on his body. Knowing that he was getting tired, she came at him relentlessly.

  She was soon getting frustrated, not being able to land any blows on Lindon, for as fast as she could move he seemed to always have a sword ready to block her. Thinking to let him go on the offensive and to see if she could make him make a mistake, she broke off her attack. She didn’t expect Lindon to come at her quite so fast and was almost caught unprepared for his counter.

  Lindon had been waiting for her to try to change tactics. He could tell, by the way she was getting flustered, that it would happen. He was ready for when she broke off her attack, and as soon as she stopped her attack, he started his.

  She was not ready for his speed; she had watched all the fights before and had felt sure that she had guessed the speed in which he could attack. What came at her was a blur of wood; she was now the one backpedaling, only now with his attack, she couldn't keep up to speed. It didn't take her very long to realize that she was beaten when, with a final flourish of his weapons, her sword was knocked from her hand, and she was sitting on her ass with Lindon standing over her with his sword at her throat.

  Looking up at Lindon, she no longer saw the boy in which she had thought of as a foolish man child; now she was seeing Lindon the warrior, and he may be young, but at the moment she had a vision of a great man in the making—one that would change the world with his footsteps or die trying. She knew that if he asked her, she would follow him to hell and back. She was his to command, as she suspected the same as every warrior that he had beaten here today.

  Nodding at the Elf woman, he could no longer call her a girl for having fought her; he knew that despite her looks, she was much older than she appeared. He walked back to his starting position and waited for the next opponent.

  “Lindon, you have defeated every warrior who lives here, but your challenge was not to just the ones that lived here; it was to every warrior in the building. Here is your last opponent.”

  Lindon was not surprised when Arden stepped forward holding a wooden practice sword. He did not make a mistake when he issued the challenge. He knew that he would have to fight Arden to prove to himself that he was worthy to wield the swords. He just hoped that he was fast enough and strong enough to do the job.

  When Arden stood in front of Lindon, he said, “My honor will not allow me to throw the fight, I must fight with everything I have to win.”

  “I would have it no other way,” Lindon said with a determination that everyone in the room no longer doubted.

  When the old man once again said the word “begin,” Arden and Lindon wasted no time. There was no strategy needed; both men had spent many hours training with each other. Each knew the other's weaknesses and their strengths.

  Lindon was close to exhaustion having battled all day; even if he had been fresh he knew that he would have to be better and faster than he had ever been before to be able to beat Arden. With the thought of his goal in mind, he was somehow able to go beyond his physical limits and meet Arden's blade with one of his own.

  Lindon could see that Arden was angling for the same counter he had used last time they had dueled. Knowing what was coming gave Lindon a narrow window in which he might be able to score a hit on him. When the moment came, Lindon feigned the same counter and when the expected move from Arden was committed too, Lindon changed direction. Instead of aiming for his ribs, Lindon angled down and struck Arden’s shin at the same moment Arden brought his sword across his body to block the expected strike. Arden punched out a blow that, if Lindon had done the same counter, would have struck him squarely in the face.

  Breathing heavily, Lindon knew that he had to find a way to finish this fight quickly, or he would pass out from exhaustion. With Arden's now injured leg, most people in Lindon's situation would have backed off to catch his breath, but knowing that he couldn't last much longer—and that Arden was such a deadly fighter—Lindon did the only thing he could do: He attacked, and not just a half-hearted one—he went after him with everything, holding nothing back.

  Lindon's wooden swords weaved in and out, crossing each other faster than the eye could see. At first, Arden met every one of Lindon's attacks but faster and faster the blows came. At last it was Arden that made the mistake—his injured leg stepped a little to the side of how it should have and gave out. Arden went down, and before he could recover, Lindon had knocked his blade away with one sword and the other stopped within a hairsbreadth of Arden's neck.

  Freezing in place, Arden didn't so much as twitch a muscle, he simply looked up at Lindon with an expression of wonder and pride. The student had surpassed the teacher, and Arden couldn't have been happier. Knowing that he had done everything that he could to help Lindon prepare for his destiny, he felt no shame at being bested by this remarkable young man.

  The crowd of fighters also felt no shame at losing their bout with Lindon. Each of them knew that he wouldn't have stood a chance against Arden, but not only had Lindon beaten each of them, he then went on and faced a true master of the sword and won. There was not one man or woman who wouldn't give up their weapon to this young master.

  Having witnessed the impossible, the old man said in a shaky voice, “Lindon, I apologize for my doubts of your skill in combat. You have proven yourself beyond all expectations. You are now free to clam your prize of any weapon from this place.”

  Bowing his head to the group of fighters, to Arden, and to the old man, Lindon slowly walked to the wall where the twin swords hung. Leaning the practice blades on the wall below, he then reached up and with shaky hands removed them.

  Carrying them over to where Arden was still sitting, held them out toward him. “Could you do me a favor and hold on to these for me?”

  A little confused, Arden reached up for the blades. “Of course.”

  As soon as the blades were safely in Arden's hands, Lindon collapsed to the ground completely unconscious. Within seconds, his grandmother was there by his side, cradling his head in her lap.

  Looking up at the crowd of people, she said, “We need a litter to take him to his room,” then turned to Arden and said, “The best thing we can do for him is to let him sleep.”

  When they got him to his room, she ordered everyone to leave. As Arden was just closing the door, Cora said quietly, “Make sure we are not disturbed for any reason.”

  Arden, fully understanding, nodded as he closed the door.

  When she was alone with Lindon, she brought power to herself, not completely sure if what she was about to do was the right thing. She didn't think there was much choice. Slowly she started to let the power flow into him, hoping that it would
help him recover. He had extended almost all of his energy to the point where he almost didn't have enough to keep his heart beating.

  Slowly, bit-by-bit, she could see the color return to Lindon's face, and his heart began to beat stronger. Cora poured as much power as she could into him—enough that if it had been anyone else, would have been burnt to a crisp—but for Lindon, it brought him back from the brink of death.

  Chapter 8

  In the early morning before the sun was up, Lindon woke with a start, sitting up suddenly, not sure of where he was or how he got here. Looking around the room, he noticed his grandmother lying on the floor beside the bed. She was using his traveling bedroll as a makeshift pillow. In the candlelight, he could see her face; she looked exhausted. He continued looking around the room. He spotted his new swords leaning beside the door. Not wanting to wake her, he quietly got out of bed, and, picking his boots up, carried them to the door.

  Lindon slipped his boots on before picking up his swords, he opened the door and left his grandmother to the sleep that she needed. When Lindon closed the door, he wasn’t surprised to see Arden leaning against the wall beside the door.

  “Can you make sure she isn't disturbed she needs to sleep?” Lindon whispered.

  Arden nodded without saying anything. As he watched the boy walk down the hall, Arden was tempted to follow to see where he was going, but sensing that Lindon didn't want company, decided to stay where he was and do as he was asked.

  Lindon went to the training area, not fully understanding why he was there. He stepped on to the training mat. Holding his swords at the ready, he slowly started a practice a routine.

  The blades felt like they were part of his body—so perfectly balanced, there was no resistance to his movement. With more confidence, he went into a more complex sequence. Before long, the blades were moving so fast that anyone watching would only see a blur of movement. Lindon felt a rush of excitement. Never before in all his training had he felt as one with his weapons.

  Lindon slowed, letting the swords weave and intertwine in his hands, remembering when they had first arrived watching Aina practice. Her movements were flowing from one to another like a dance. Closing his eyes, he tried to emulate her. He could copy the movement, but he just could not quite achieve the grace and the flow that she possessed.

  Aina had been watching Lindon as he practiced; she admired the speed and the precision of his weapons. When he tried to emulate her practice routine that she used to loosen her muscles, she was shocked at how close he had actually come to being able to do it. Aina had always been taught that only her people, the Elves, could achieve that level of grace and yet here was Lindon. With no instruction, he was almost able to do the Dance of the Swan with not one but two swords. If she didn't already know from yesterday’s events that he was a true master, then seeing this left no doubt in her mind.

  Aina was not the only one watching Lindon; on the other side of the room hidden behind a weapons rack was one of the fighters from yesterday’s challenge. Unlike Aina, though, the man didn't see the beauty of Lindon's dance, all he saw was the humiliation of a seventeen-year-old kid beating him in less than a minute. Lairgnen didn't take it well and vowed that he would be the one to put a blade through the heart of Lindon and regain some of his honor, but first he had to follow his orders and report that the ones his father was looking for were here and ripe for the taking.

  He had just about been ready to leave to report when Lindon had come in. Seeing his chance as the boy had his eyes closed and was doing some ridiculous dance with his swords, he quietly opened the door to the tunnel and slipped out.

  With tears in her eyes, Aina was watching Lindon. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the door open on the other side and a guilty-looking Lairgnen quietly make his way out. Wondering what he was up to, she followed him out of the door. She kept to the shadows as she followed him down the tunnel; she was concentrating so much on not being seen by Lairgnen that she didn't notice Lindon following her.

  Lindon had heard the door open the first time but didn't let on that he had. Continuing his practice, he noticed Aina quietly follow the man out the door. He went to the door and listened for any sounds coming from the other side. He didn’t know what they were doing. When he didn't hear anything, he slowly opened the door and slipped out into the tunnel. He found Aina right away as she was moving up the side of the tunnel. Looking farther down the tunnel, he could just make out the shape of the man she was following. Curious as to why they were sneaking around, he silently followed.

  Aina thought that Lairgnen was still ahead of her, but when she came around the corner he was nowhere to be seen. At first she didn't see the opening with a ladder going up to the street level. She was about to start climbing when, from the opposite side of the tunnel, Lairgnen stepped out of another opening.

  “Well, you little Elf bitch, didn't you know it's impolite to follow someone.”

  She automatically reached for her sword but remembered too late that she had left it in her room. Realizing that she was in trouble, she tried to talk her way out of it.

  “I was only interested in following you to see if you were sneaking off to see a girl; I didn't want to make a move for you if you were.” She had to suppress the bile rising in her stomach from the lie, just the thought of this disgusting pig touching her made her want to vomit.

  Lairgnen moved a little closer to Aina. “It wouldn't matter if I did have a girl I was going to see or not because I wouldn't touch your disgusting body for any amount of money. I don't mate with animals,” he spat.

  Seeing that he wouldn't fall for any tricks, she tried to dash back down the tunnel. For a second, she thought she might get past him, but he swung his blade low, trying to take her legs out. She dodged to avoid the swing and ran in to the side of the tunnel, just about knocking herself out.

  As she lay dazed on the floor, Lairgnen stood above her, smiling evilly. “Don't worry, bitch, you won't be alone long. All your friends and the old man will soon be dead too. As soon as I finish with you, I will report to my father, and we will clean the vermin from the tunnels.” He gave an evil chuckle. “I am going to get so much pleasure from killing that little upstart boy who thinks he knows battle just because he got lucky against me.”

  Lindon came around the corner, unnoticed, just as the man finished talking. Seeing Aina on the ground bleeding from a nasty looking cut on her forehead and the man she had been following standing above her ready to strike, Lindon suddenly had no doubt about having to kill this man. He tiptoed as silently as he could to close the distance.

  “Goodbye, Aina. I doubt anyone will miss you any more than they would a dog, but I have killing to do and you’re not my type to play with.” With a finial laugh, he brought his sword down to end her life.

  Thinking that this was it for her, Aina closed her eyes, ready to accept the blow, when she heard a clank of metal hitting metal. She opened her eyes to see Lindon standing above her, having blocked the strike and pushing Lairgnen from atop of her.

  She quickly crawled off to the side, still dizzy from the blow to her head, when she looked back at Lindon. She was shocked at the sight of him. He no longer looked like the young boy she had recognized nor the capable warrior who had defeated all before him at the house challenge. What she saw before her now was death incarnate. It was almost possible to see the anger radiate off of him. Aina was no coward, but she knew that if it were her that was facing him at this moment, she would probably have wet herself.

  For all of Lairgnen's talk of Lindon getting lucky and about being the one to put a blade in his heart, he knew that in a fight, he didn't stand a chance against Lindon. When he looked at the boy, he froze, and for the first time in his life, he was scared. Not even now, with his father being one of the chosen and the horrible thing he had become, had he known true fear.

  Lairgnen knew he didn't stand a chance, so he didn't bother to try to talk his way out of it. He just threw his blade at Lindon
and tried to turn and run. Faster than he thought possible, Lindon blocked the thrown weapon with one sword and, showing no mercy to the man that was about to kill the helpless girl, swung his other blade and with almost no effort, cleanly decapitated the man. His head stayed on top of the man's neck for a few seconds until slowly the man dropped to the ground, and his head rolled away from his body.

  Lindon spared no more time thinking about the dead man; he quickly went over to Aina. Kneeling down, he checked her head wound. Upon seeing that the bleeding had stopped, he asked, “Are you okay? Can you walk?”

  Aina didn’t trust herself to answer, so she simply gave a little nod and tried to stand. She was about halfway to standing when her vision blurred, and she started to topple forward. Lindon caught her just before she hit the ground unconscious.

  He hoisted her up and, seeing no other way to carry her and his weapons, put her over his shoulder as gently as he could. He wanted to get away from there as soon as possible, and bent back down and picked up his swords, then started back the way they had come.

  Lindon was lost somewhere in the maze of underground tunnels; he had taken a wrong turn. He had been walking for about a half an hour when Aina gave a little moan. Hopefully she was regaining consciousness. He believed that without her guidance, he would never find his way. Lindon gently laid her down on the hard floor and having nothing else, he took off his shirt to use as a pillow for her head.

  Her eyes finally opened. “Where are we?”

  “I was kind of hoping you could tell me,” Lindon replied.

  Seeing Lindon without his shirt on and realizing that he had given it to her for her head made Aina quite uncomfortable. She was not used to humans being nice to her or worrying about her welfare. This young man was so different from any person she had ever met before. One minute he was a devil with his swords killing without mercy and the next he was tending her wound with a gentleness that touched the Elf's heart. The more time she spent with him, the more she came to realize that he was destined for something important.