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A Game of Stones
12. Making Friends

12. Making Friends

Painin did not expect himself to be in the presence of Garrison Commander Novil but here he was listening to the Tax Appraiser continue to yell about him and how stupid he was. To his credit, the Commander tried to listen but eventually had to cut the man off.

“Appraiser Johnson please calm down. I understand that you are upset, and I will mark up the yelling to that, but I will not allow you to carry on like this, especially towards me.” His tone left no doubt about the outcome if it didn’t stop.

The mouse-faced man sputtered but managed to stem the flow of words with a hard sigh and nod of his head towards the Commander. Ferret's face just stood directly behind him shaking his face looking like a plum with how hard his face was scrunched up.

“Now the simple fix to this problem that I can see is for Painin to no longer assist you going forward which will fix our problem.”

“He challenged my count!” he screeched shaking his hands and staring daggers at the boy.

“Yes, and I can understand that this may be upsetting to you, but I am confident that he did not mean to do so. At least not to insult you in that manner. With that being said I will deal with the issue concerning him. Now know it will be dealt with.”

Appraiser Johnson nodded his head and shot Painin a disagreeable look as he turned and walked out the door with Ferret's face following close on his heels. Once the door closed Painin started to open his mouth but Commander Novil raised his hand and stopped him.

“Don’t worry lad. We aren’t going to flog you over something as stupid as this. He drives me crazy with all of his antics. So, going forward you will do your best to avoid Appraiser Johnson. You will report to Battle Mage Pierce now and assist him in whatever he requires of you. Dismissed.”

Painin nodded and turned leaving through the door and nodding to the guards on duty before heading down the corridor in the direction that lead towards the only tower that the keep boasted. He approached the heavy oaken door and felt a decisive chill in the hallway around him the closer that he got. He raised a hand and tapped on the door. He waited for a bit before knocking on the door harder. Hearing nothing in rely and finding the door locked from the inside he turned to walk away when he heard it.

The click and creak of the door opening outward seemingly of its own volition. He returned to the door and called out through the opening trying to hide the slight tremble in his voice.

“Battle Mage? Garrison Commander Novil told me that I was to report to you and assist you in whatever you need.” Only silence greeted him from inside the room and he could see nothing but darkness inside the room. The door creaked open further as he stood there exposing more darkness beyond.

“Battle Mage?” He called moving closer to the door and poking his head inside the darkened room. The inside was black like liquid ink and he strained to see anything inside. Slowly he slid in through the opening until he was standing fully in the darkness when suddenly the door behind him swung shut with a loud bang. Torches and candles flared to life around the room which was covered in a multitude of seemingly ancient garbage tossed around the room.

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Reaching back behind him he tried to open the door but found it to be stuck firm. A thick layer of dust covered everything in the room, and it looked as if nothing had been moved in the room in 100 years.

“Battle… Mage?” He stepped further into the room his footsteps disturbing the dust on the floor and sending up little clouds as he moved about and peered around the room. With wide eyes, he took in the items of the room which contained everything from books, dissected animals, and even a pot that bubbled on a stand over a small fire with a blue flame. The smell that came from the pot smelled like onions and other spices and set his stomach growling.

Moving closer to it he stopped and felt his gaze being drawn to a corner of the room where an old chair was covered by a pile of books haphazardly stacked up and covered by dust and spider webs. He didn’t know what it was about the corner but once his eyes hit it he couldn’t stop looking at the area and moved closer to inspect it. Suddenly a massive wind swept through the room stirring up the dust that lay everywhere.

He closed his eyes and began to sneeze, and he felt as if he was being pushed out the now-open door behind him into the hallway. He recovered from sneezing and spun just as the door closed itself with an audible click and the only thing that alluded to it having been opened was the fine layer of dust that now covered the hallway in front of the door. Painin was confused and slightly afraid of what had just happened, and he walked backward away from the door.

He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he found himself suddenly very excited by the weird display of power that he had witnessed. Inside the room, the pile of books on the chair dissolved leaving a man of middling years sitting on the chair a pipe clenched between his teeth as he continued to look over the open book on the table.

“Interesting… Most interesting…” He mumbled to himself as he looked up at the now-closed door before going back to reading the tome in front of him and taking a drag off his pipe.

“Very interesting…”

Again, and again came the attacking blows, they rained in like hammer strikes from all sides as if trying to beat an anvil into submission. Painin attacked with all the strength that he could muster but no matter what he could not get past the sword master’s defenses. His sword seemed to be an extension of his arm, striking out like a snake, with unprecedented strength. The Master performed these attacks while all the while moving his feet and body in perfect rhythm like a complex dance. Flowing from attack to block, to attack, and back to parry without changing the dance.

“Remember your forms, flow through them.” Said Master Nich from behind his blurring wall of defense.

“Don’t attack blindly, you only leave yourself open to a counterattack.” As if to prove his point he whacked Painin in the thigh with the wooden practice sword with a meaty thwack.

“Strength alone will not defeat a skilled opponent, you must be strong but also be flexible like the willow to avoid taking strikes.” He punctuated the statement by striking him in his unprotected side. Painin grunted with the pain of the blow and redoubled his attacks trying to relieve the Master of his head. Master Nich’s sword speedup and struck out three times in rapid succession tapping Painin on the head, torso, and thigh as Painin drew back his sword for another attack.

“You move like an Ox. I grow tired of striking you.” Master Nich’s sword shot forward connecting with Painin’s wrist and the wooden blade fell from his now numb grasp.

“Now then go and tend to your other duties after you complete your laps and try not to be late tomorrow for our lesson.” Said Master Nich as he bowed and entered his private chambers. Painin stooped to pick up his practice sword and replaced it in the bin before he made his way outside to the practice yard to begin his run.