by A. C. Cobble
“Trained as an apprentice?” asked Ben, wide-eyed.
Jasper snorted. “I know what you’re thinking, boy. Unfortunately, you don’t have time for that. I could teach you the basics after several months. That might be worthwhile. Maybe get you competent after a couple of years. True skill takes decades though. If you intend to do as you say, go to Irrefort and find the Purple, you don’t have months to spare.”
Ben frowned.
“I’m helping you, girl,” Jasper said to Amelie, “because you already have a rudimentary understanding of some concepts. In a few weeks while we’re travelling, maybe I can help refine that understanding into something worthwhile, something dangerous.”
Amelie blinked and swallowed. Obviously, the ease with which Jasper took down the arch-demon was stuck in her mind.
Jasper sighed and turned back to Ben. “There is one thing I can do to help you. Tomorrow, we’ll go to my workshop and I’ll fashion you a device, something even you can use.”
***
The next morning, Ben watched as Jasper sawed through the log of anima-wood.
“You’re unskilled,” remarked the mage as he set a tiny-toothed handsaw against the smooth wood.
Ben snorted, but Jasper ignored him.
Continuing, the mage added, “Despite that, I can fashion a simple device that even you can make use of. I thought about it last night, and you already have a weapon. I’ll make you something else. It will work similar to the way you use your sword. It is unintelligent force like when you called the wind. With skill, you could make full use of that blade, but for now, we’ll make do with what you’re capable of.”
Ben’s eyebrows shot higher. “What do you mean full use?”
Jasper glanced up from the log of anima-wood. “The sword serves as a channel for your will. Think of the frozen waterfall and the tunnel we followed underground. When it’s not frozen, the water falls. It is directionless. It flows down the path of least resistance. The tunnel channels it. When the water flows down the tunnel, it has direction. It has purpose. It fills the underground lake. Your will is like that water. Without focus, it is directionless. There is no telling where it will take you. With training, concentration, and practice, you can control that will and utilize it to enact change in the world.”
“And the sword does…” Ben trailed off. He wasn’t sure what Jasper was getting at.
“It helps focus your will into a tangible effect,” answered the mage, “wind, in your case.”
Jasper sighed and laid down the handsaw. He scratched at the back of his neck, obviously struggling to put his thoughts into layman’s terms.
“Wind is a near limitless source of energy,” explained the mage. “It’s around us all of the time, even when we do not feel it. It has no established direction though, just constant motion. It is a force looking for a place to go. Because of that, it is one of the easiest things to manipulate as you are not changing its physical properties, you are just redirecting. When you first used the sword, you must have had a powerful need and had the desire to do something about it.”
Ben nodded and laid a hand on his sword. “I was about to be overrun by demons. It’s fair to say I desired to not be eaten.”
Jasper grinned. “You exerted your will and created a tangible effect, and the sword helped you do it. You took energy that was powerful, directionless, and gave it a push.”
“That sounds like something a mage would do,” replied Ben.
“It is something a mage would do,” agreed Jasper, “but just like a child isn’t a warrior the first time they pick up a stick and swing at an imaginary enemy, you are not a mage.”
Ben frowned. “The demons didn’t think it was a little stick.”
Jasper retrieved his saw and went back to work on the anima-wood. “Of course. What I meant is that the child has a stick but not the warrior’s skill, and you do not have a mage’s skill. That doesn’t mean you can’t swing a stick every now and then. The sword helped you channel your will to do that. This disc will do the same.”
Ben leaned closer as the mage finished sawing off a circular slice of wood from the rest of the log. It was as wide as Ben’s hand and the width of one of his fingers.
“I’ll be able to make the wind blow with it?” he asked quizzically.
“You’ll be able to release a burst of healing energy,” replied the mage. “Living organisms have the ability to grow and heal. Like the wind, it is a natural force that is always there but unfocused. I will charge this device and store energy within it. I’ll carve runes on it that, when activated, can channel your will into directing the energy for healing. When charged sufficiently, it will be like two-week’s rest happens in the course of a minute.”
Ben’s jaw dropped open. “That sounds amazing.”
Jasper winked. “It is amazing. Storing this energy is only possible with a substance like the anima-wood. Only a very skilled mage, such as myself, has the knowledge to carve the runes. In fact, maybe only I am left alive with that knowledge. I could sell the device for at least one hundred gold coins if I could find the right buyer.”
“One hundred gold! That is too generous,” protested Ben. “I can’t take that from a friend!”
Shrugging, Jasper responded, “What would I do with the coins? My biggest purchases are domesticated animals and ale. I have more than enough coin, but I’m currently short on friends. I’d give up any amount of gold to have those friends back.”
Ben winced, remembering the bodies they’d buried the day before.
Jasper sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to come out so harshly.”
“I can’t imagine what it is like to return and find your home like that,” consoled Ben.
Jasper walked across his workshop and retrieved a slender chisel and a tiny hammer.
“Can I have a few moments alone?” asked the mage. His voice was thick, and the man’s body was taut with tension.
Ben nodded. “I’ll go see if Amelie needs help with dinner. Call for us if there is anything I can do to help.”
Jasper bent to his work and Ben quietly left the workshop.
How to Throw a Fireball
“Proximity.”
Amelie nodded, listening intently to the mage.
“The mages of the Sanctuary have forgotten that lesson. You can use that to your advantage,” explained Jasper.
Ben hiked half a dozen paces behind the two practitioners. He was listening as well. They were travelling across the smooth floor of Jasper’s valley, halfway between his home and the lake. They walked underneath soaring pine trees along a barely discernable path, hidden from far-seeing eyes.
Jasper’s sonorous voice continued, drifting to Ben’s ears with the ease of the wind blowing through the trees. “When you are proximate to your opponent, you can establish physical contact. With that contact, it is much easier to extend your will into another person and, of course, more difficult for them to harden their will and stop you.”
“It’s easier for them to touch you as well though, right?” challenged Amelie.
Jasper chuckled. “It is. When you know it will come to a fight, be aggressive and strike first. Against mages of the Sanctuary, that is your advantage. The way the Sanctuary teaches combat is risk averse. They want to stay back and loathe getting their hands dirty. They fling lightening and avoid real engagement. But combat is real. It’s physical. You are trying to damage someone and they are trying to damage you. If you’re worried about the risk, then you shouldn’t be in the fight in the first place. If you understand that difference, between how the Sanctuary wants to fight and how you are able to fight, then you can defeat them even if they are naturally stronger than you. If you face another mage, it is not a theoretical classroom exercise. It is life and death. Battles between mages rarely end any other way. You must take every advantage you can get.”
Jasper ducked under a low-hanging pine branch. “When you’re close to someone, you have options. You have choices other
than just trying to overcome them with your will, which you may not be able to do against a fully trained mage. When you are close, you can punch them in the mouth, stab them with your dagger, or throw dirt in their eye. Your magic and your will are two of the most powerful tools you have, but they aren’t your only tools. Use everything you can.”
Ben grinned. Jasper may not like Rhys, but his discussion of combat strategy was nearly identical. When Rhys finally agreed to train Ben, he emphasized one point above all others. Fight dirty.
“Punch them in the mouth?” questioned Amelie.
Jasper chuckled. “Think about it this way. If you are unlucky enough to fight a mage, you are fighting them, not just fighting them with magic. If you can use your magic to defeat them, that is great. If you defeat them with your fists, that is just as great. Your goal, your only goal, is to survive.”
Ahead of them, Ben saw a stream break the continuity of the pine forest.
“Stop there for the night?” he asked, gesturing ahead.
“Looks good to me,” responded Jasper.
The air was cool, but in the protected valley, it wasn’t the bitter chill they’d faced elsewhere in the northern winter. With a decent fire and a thick bed roll, sleeping outside wouldn’t be unpleasant. They set to work, Amelie scuffing out a simple fire pit, Ben collecting wood, and Jasper laying out ingredients for dinner.
When they got the fire started, the mage suggested to Ben and Amelie, “Why don’t you two practice the sword while I cook?”
“For someone who is supposed to be teaching me magic, you talk an awfully lot about using fists and blades,” declared Amelie.
Jasper shrugged. “You should regularly practice both, magic and the blade. When you need it, you don’t want to be rusty at either one.”
“Come on,” called Ben, drawing his longsword. “Don’t get lazy on me just because you have magical powers.”
Ben and Amelie sparred at half-speed. They focused on refreshing the motions rather than the speed and violence needed in a real contest.
Amelie lunged at Ben, thrusting with her rapier. Ben easily parried and riposted, his longsword stabbing toward his friend. She caught it with her dagger but failed to turn the heavier blade. Ben arrested his attack and pulled back. Frustrated, Amelie swished her rapier back and forth before resetting.
“That was good,” encouraged Jasper.
Amelie raised an eyebrow at the mage. If Ben hadn’t stopped himself, he could have easily skewered his friend.
“You caught his blade with the dagger,” explained Jasper. “It was the right motion, but you didn’t use enough force. In magical terms, you had the knowledge to counter his attack but not the will to stop it. You held back. It’s always knowledge and will. When you want to turn that blade enough, you can gather the will and strength to do so.” The mage instructed, “Try it again.”
Ben and Amelie squared off, and again, he thrust at half speed.
Just like before, Amelie easily caught the longsword with her dagger, but the small blade wasn’t enough to turn Ben’s sword.
“Again,” demanded Jasper.
Amelie grunted and glared at him. They did the sequence again with the same results.
“Again.”
Amelie didn’t bother to look at the mage this time, just reset and waited for Ben’s attack.
“Again.”
Snarling, Amelie shuffled her feet, trying to get a position she’d have more leverage with the dagger.
“Again.”
Ben thrust and just like before, had to stop his blade before he hit his friend. He could feel Amelie straining against it, but he knew giving in and letting her brush it aside wouldn’t do her any good. That would just give her a false sense of confidence if she were in a real sword fight.
“Ben’s practiced for months longer than me and with a blademaster,” complained Amelie. “His sword is much larger than my dagger and he’s stronger. This is ridiculous.”
“He’s stronger than you,” observed Jasper, “but you are not trying to arm wrestle him or pick up a big rock. You are merely trying to edge his blade away from you. Again.”
Ben and Amelie squared off. Over and over, Ben attacked. Amelie’s face twisted with anger, but he knew it wasn’t directed at him. She was angry at Jasper and herself.
Jasper stood and watched them, no longer needing to request another try. Occasionally, out of the corner of her eye, Amelie glared at him. Ben could tell she was tiring, her parries growing weaker and weaker.
“You have to want it,” encouraged Jasper. “You are just going through the motions. Will that the blade turns!”
Tears of frustration were forming in the corners of Amelie’s eyes. Ben wanted to stop, but she set herself again, raising her rapier and dagger to meet his attack. Ben thrust with his longsword. Just like before, Amelie swept her dagger up to meet it.
The small blade met his sword and Ben felt an incredible pressure on the side of the weapon. He tensed his arms but couldn’t stop the lateral force. His sword was pushed away. Surprised, he stumbled off balance.
Amelie stood rooted, staring at Ben’s longsword as it scraped along the edge of her dagger, a hand’s width to her side. Without speaking, Jasper returned to the fire and turned the spit he’d erected over it. A fat rabbit sizzled as a new side was exposed to the fire.
“How did you do that?” wondered Ben. It felt like a good-sized warrior had just brushed his blade away.
“I, I don’t know,” stuttered Amelie, just as surprised as Ben at the strength she’d suddenly displayed.
“You willed it,” commented Jasper, “just like you willed Creegan to heal and the stone to come alight while we were in the tunnel. Anything is possible if you have the will to make it happen.”
***
Ben found the hike through Jasper’s valley to be pleasant. The last several weeks, they’d been battling snowstorms, bitter cold, and deep, dark tunnels. The crisp pine-scented air of the valley was a welcome change.
Jasper kept them busy though. For Amelie, he constantly challenged her knowledge of magic, taking what the Sanctuary taught her and adding new wrinkles to it. To Ben’s ear, he was making it more practical. At the Sanctuary, she’d learned in a classroom or a laboratory. With Jasper, she learned in the world. When he wanted to talk about the properties of light, he pointed to the sun. When he wanted to explain chemical changes, he picked up a handful of snow from behind a tree and let it melt. When he wanted to teach her combat, he squared off against her.
To spar, they found suitable pine branches as similar as possible to their own weapons. At the end of every day, the three of them took turns facing each other.
Initially, Ben found it frustrating. It felt like the mages were cheating. Jasper was adept at using his magic to increase the speed of his swings or give himself a sudden burst of strength. Amelie tried as well, but it only rarely worked. It made it unpredictable and, in a way, more difficult to counter. Eventually, Ben realized that it was just like sparring against Rhys or Saala. Both the rogue and blademaster were faster, stronger, and more knowledgeable than Ben. They were a constant challenge. That was how Ben improved his own skill so rapidly.
Working against Jasper was much the same. The man didn’t have the physical abilities of the blademaster, but his magic filled the gap. Ben found that the man’s magic only took him so far though. The mage could increase his speed or strength with the expense of his will, but he couldn’t use will to improve his forms or predict Ben’s actions. Ben had superior knowledge.
Ben began finding holes in the mage’s defense and learned to react before he could be caught flat-footed by an increase in speed. Using the proper forms of defense compensated for the man’s increases in strength. By the fourth day of their journey, Ben found himself holding his own against the mage. They danced back and forth under the pine trees, each man trying to find a weakness so he could slide his pine branch through and strike the other.
Then Jasper found a n
ew way to gain an advantage.
Ben was pressing Jasper back, lashing out with his branch and eyeing the mage’s shoulders. Jasper tended to telegraph his movements with them so Ben was easily able to react before the mage counterattacked. Jasper was panting with exertion, unusual for him. Ben was pressing him hard.
Ben smacked his branch against Jasper’s and the mage stumbled back, barely holding onto his practice weapon. Grinning, Ben closed in. The mage was off balance and reeling.
Suddenly, a blast of pine needles swirled up from the forest floor. Ben was encapsulated in a tornado of wind and soft brown needles. He couldn’t see a thing. He stepped back, trying to get clear of the furious storm. It followed him.
Jasper’s branch cut through the cloud. With a stinging slap, it struck Ben’s ribcage. Ben yelped in pain. Immediately, the wind stopped, and the needles fell back to the ground. Panting, Ben stared wildly at the mage.
“That’s cheating,” he gasped.
Jasper grinned.
“Cheating is breaking the rules,” chided Jasper. “In a fight, there are no rules.”
“But you haven’t done that before,” complained Ben.
“You weren’t beating me before,” retorted the mage, wagging a finger in Ben’s direction. “You’re a better swordsman than me, and already you’ve adjusted to my little tricks. I don’t relish getting hit with these sticks so I had to improvise.”
“How am I supposed to fight against something like that?” protested Ben. “There’s no reason to spar if you’re just going to blind me then hit me.”
“On the contrary. If I am so easily able to beat you, then there’s a lot of reason for this,” answered Jasper. “If you face a mage with or without a sword, you should learn to counteract their magic.”
Ben frowned. “You said there wasn’t time to teach me magic.”
“There isn’t,” replied Jasper patiently. “We’re working on something you’ve already learned. If you harden your will and pay attention to what I’m doing, you can stop me. Or, at the least, stop someone less skilled than me. From now on, when we spar, you need to keep your senses extended and be prepared for magical tricks with the sword or with the environment. If you want to survive an encounter with a mage, you must learn to harden your will and defend yourself. If you can defend yourself, you can beat them. Any mage using these tricks will tire faster than a normal warrior. If they are not practiced at it like I am, they will wear out very quickly. Exerting your will to make your body move faster or harder than it normally would is exhausting.”