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A Machine's Cage: Second Life, Second Chances
Chapter 11, Small Town Bookstore

Chapter 11, Small Town Bookstore

A new year had come, and it was the fifth of Simiwesan the first month of the year 317th Ast-Astrix or 51st year of King Roth Astrix. The new year was longer than usual, being a leap year, there was an extra day of celebration held on the last day of the year, and the village would host a few extra surprises for that extra day. It was made all the more enjoyable and fun, by having a friend to share it with.

It was a bit of a shame it wasn’t a double leap year, as that would mean a longer summer solstice celebration with far more festivities. That would have to wait until 322 Ast-Astrix. The last one happened when he was only 2, and he was too young to have experienced anything but a window view of the world. Though he could still remember the smells of all the foods and food stuffs.

Future celebrations aside, school was proving to be far more boring than he expected. Knowing most of what his teacher, Fense was going to teach made it all an exercise in redundant redundancy. He often found himself teaching the other kids’ things off lecture, much to his teachers’ bemusement and amusement. Though he seemed to be a good sport about it at least. He even seemed to appreciate it when Reese corrected him. At least, occasionally. Though, the days when he had to copy extra pages did make him wonder how far he could really push that.

Emilie seemed very happy in class and was always answering questions and leading her groups as well. Even with Reese’s decades of knowledge behind him, she could still keep up. In fact, he occasionally would be surprised as he watched her answer the rare question even he was unsure of.

The unlikely friend, Gezal had even pulled himself out of his funk. It seemed like training under Fortus had given him something he was lacking before, plus his father no longer seemed suicidal, having a useful job to perform.

For Reese though, today at least was a rare day, where he wouldn’t have to spend extra time rewriting someone else’s bad penmanship and where Emilie would. Turns out copying everything he did wasn’t a great idea. Looking back, he could feel her pain and whispered a word of sympathy as left the building.

The homework assignments were simple enough. Something on the rise of the Auslang Empire, and a few trigonometry problems. The younger students just had to add some of the angles, but the older ones were expected to come up with side measurements and other more complex identities. Of course, he was going to do the harder work.

As he tapped at the scribblings on the last page of his notebook, a fact became obvious. He was out of pages in his notebook.

Well, without his friend in tow, it seemed like a perfect excuse to actually buy his own for a change. He still had all the coins he was given throughout the year, and the bulk of the ones he had saved from chores and other odds and ends. More than enough to buy it.

Running home, he found his coin pouch on top his neglected workbench. Pausing to consider it for a moment, a particular set of grain in the wood almost looked like a frown, as if it was being neglected. Reese couldn’t help but fell a little guilty for not actually using it. He had a few mana stone, but simply had no way of doing anything substantial with them. No plans or ideas were in any of the books he read, and even his own fiddling had proven limited. Problem for another day. An excuse which itself had begun to feel like its own problem.

In his purse he counted the silver and rosy-brown coins, 26 silvers and 179 coppers. More than enough for a notebook, but before he closed his pouch, one of the coins stuck out to him. Something he didn’t notice before. It was silver, but had a very different design and was a little bit larger, pulling it out he looked it over. A small city sitting on top a larger one seemed to be stamped into its back, some words too. The top was in Auslang by the looks of it, he couldn’t read it. But the bottom was human, it said “Trillonia”.

Some larger city states would print their own coins. It posed an interesting question of sovereignty in the kingdoms, but again, a question for another day he mused and put it to the side to investigate later. Without knowing the rough exchange value he could give away a coin worth more or be accused of stealing by offering a coin worth less.

The bookstore itself was moderately sized, but for a village like this, it was huge. Technically Wollseeth wasn’t really big enough to support such a specialty shop, so even seeing one here was a nice surprise and bit of good fortune.

Inside was quite unkept, even more so than the last time he was here. Additional dust had settled on the shelves, and the floor remained unwashed in the months since he was there last. However, all that was overshadowed by the stale air which continued to hold a slightly sweat aroma of old paper and leather. It was such a familiar smell, comforting almost, and it reminded him of the younger days in his old life when he spent his time in books and libraries.

“Don’t touch anything.” The shopkeeper barked at him. “I hate kids. Shouldn’t even be here without his parents…” He further muttered to himself while glaring at him.

It took a moment for Reese’s eyes to adjust to the dim light as he looked around the shop. It was a struggle to remember shopkeeper’s name, it sounded like Charleston, but not quite. Charston maybe? His mother had mentioned it a few times. She would often come here to exchange old books and buy new ones.

As he made his way to the notebooks, a different book caught his eye. A word on the title on the simple leather cover flashed at him as he almost paased.

“Fundamentals of Enchanting, a Non-Spell Caster Approach”

That title, the book seemed to be exactly what he was looking for! It was locked on the shelf like the rest, and he couldn’t open it to check. The price on the old parchment slip had the number 2 and a symbol for a gold coin. Two gold for one book, not an uncommon price for a book, in fact it was probably on the cheaper end for one that large. The average laborer might earn 16-22 copper a day. It would take months to earn enough to buy that book, assuming they didn’t spend any of it on things like food.

“Hey, kid! What did I say? Stay away from the books. Don’t touch them if you can’t buy them.”

He wanted this book, but it was expensive for a 7-year-old. It was expensive period, still he needed it. He could have asked his parents, but they’d probably say no. Particularly since he just had a gift for the new year. Plus, even with what they both brought in, the two gold wasn’t cheap. He doubted they’d be willing to exchange any. Maybe there was another way he could afford it?

“Shopkeeper. I want this book.”

The older man glared in the back of the shop. He couldn’t read the price tag from where he was, but he didn’t need too. It had been there long enough that he could remember it, “Two gold.”

Of course, Reese knew that. “I don’t have two gold.”

“Well then you don’t have a book, do you? Get out.” Charston pointed at the closed door with his cane.

Again, he looked around the shop, the place was dusty, and not well taken care of. The shopkeeper’s cane was a clear indication he didn’t have the mobility to take care of this place. It was an opportunity if only he could be convinced. Reese smirked knowing he could do it.

“You’re going to hire me to help you! And after you pay me, I’m buying this book. For one gold and 30 silver.” He added at the end. It was a gamble, but he suspects someone with an attitude like Charston would like someone who pushed back. Either that or he’d be banned forever… He didn’t like that last option, but it was too late to change his mind.

“Ha! You got nerve kid. Why would I hire you, and why would sell you that book for half?”

“You’re going to hire me because you need help. This dust isn’t good for the books, and it’s clear there are other things that need to be done besides dusting. You’re going sell me the book for 75% of its listed price, not half. And you’re going to sell at that price because it’s clear this book has been here forever.”

The balls on that kid, Charston couldn’t help but laugh. A good sign for Reese’s plan. “I hate kids. I’m not paying a single silver to you.”

“Ah, but I’m not asking for a silver…" All the book in the Browny household one, stood out as the absolute most boring book in the history of books, "Verster’s Census from the 40th year of King Roth shows the average labor earns about 20copper a day. I’m half the size of an average laborer, so you can pay me half that, 10 copper a day. With the roughly 30 silver I have saved up, I’ll have that book in about 144 days.” Of all the books in the house, the copy of Verster’s Census they kept around took the crown of dryness. Yet, it had proven an informative view of the six kingdoms which was fascinating in its own right. Plus, his mind was a natural for keeping numbers, so it was quite the valuable read for him.

“You…” Charston paused thinking about the numbers. The kid’s math seemed right, so he wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t know the actual amount an ‘average labor’ got paid, but the figure the boy gave seemed reasonable enough. He wouldn’t be taking a loss at that book's price either, just not much of a profit. Regardless he had plenty of coins hidden so it’s not like it mattered. He wanted to put something else there anyway. But by far the biggest impact was Reese’s attitude. So few children cared about books, and how many of those that did would go through this effort for one? Even more, how many would read such a boring tome like the census to begin with?

The more he considered Reese, the more he reminded Charston of a younger, healthier version of himself, and he started laughing. “Ok, kid. Start cleaning. If this shop looks good at the end of the day, I’ll give you 10 mossies and you can come back tomorrow, to work.”

The work was simple enough, if hard. Dusting, cleaning, wiping down some old stains on a few shelves.

“Don’t forget the floors!” Charston chided him. Sighing, he even went to work on polishing the wood as best he could. But his reward was handed to him in full, 10 coppers coins or so called mossies, and the ‘allowance’ for him to come back tomorrow. Almost didn’t seem worth it, but in a world without much in the way of labor laws, it was a start.

Stepping in the door of his house, another thought occurred to him, he had forgotten something. Something important, his new notebook. He sighed. His mind was good for facts and number, but trying to remember a check list would leave him checked out. For a moment he swore to himself he wasn’t going senile, which made him question just how old was he? About 50 mentally? But he was in a 7 year old’s body. He had this thought process before, and it never ended well. Thankfully, his father snapped him out of his trance.

“Reese, where have you been? Dinner is set out.” Seemed like it was father’s turn to cook, which was unusual. Mom tried to do it most days.

“I’m sorry dad, I got a job it took me a while.”

His old man didn’t even look up from his plate as pushed some baked green plants into his mouth. It was something like a “thick leaf” spinach. The taste wasn’t horrible, but that’s the best impression it would leave on Reese. Food is food, he supposed, as he sat down.

“A job?” His mother stopped eating for a moment to marvel at her son. Whether she was impressed or concerned was hard to tell.

Nemi didn’t say anything, just glaring at him. Likely dreading the discussion about getting her own job next.

“Is that going to interfere with your sword training? You’re way behind where I want you.” His father seemed less than impressed as well. Per usual.

“I mean, I can make time after, or on the days I don’t work.” He thought about it, there was another option he really didn’t like. “I could also do it in the morning.” He hated getting up early.

Of course, that was exactly what his father wanted to hear. “Excellent! We’ll try your new schedule tomorrow. You can practice with Gezal."

A small pang of fear hit Reese, Fortus wasn’t exactly gentle when he spared but Gezal was different.

THWACK.

Early the next day, and the sounds of wooden swords could be heard, and in Reese’s case felt.

Unlike his father, Gezal didn’t know how to hold back. A fact made all the more evident by the growing welt on his left side. Every time he either ended up with massive bruises or on the ground. Usually both.

All morning Gezal and him had brushed swords, or more accurately, Gezal brushed his sword against Reese while Reese brushed the air next to him.

Again Reese stood up and tapped swords a few times before Gezal took it serious and snapped around with a quick slice. He wasn’t using any techniques yet, but he didn’t have to, his natural speed and strength were more than enough.

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The slice Reese could parry. It was fast, but not too fast, the problem was Gezal’s strength pushed him back knocking him off balance. With what little mana he could muster from around him, Reese was able to steady himself with a twitch of his hand. It was hard, but he could “thicken” the air behind with a metal spell. It was weak, like all of his spells, but it pushed back enough to keep him from falling over. At least when he did it right

Gezal could sense the subtle mana usage and smiled in return. Mistaking it for the sign of a sword technique, he readied his own.

“Ah, son of a-“, Reese’s cry was interrupted. Gezal’s sword seemed to jump from his side directly into Reese’s, as if there was no movement at all.

THWACK!

Of course, the impact proved that thought wrong. Another hit on the same side, harder than before causing him to fall to the cold frozen ground.

It was the second technique Gezal had learned, ‘Flash Strike’ after having learned 'Flash Step' in the prior Autumn. The ability to move your blade and arms so fast a normal opponent couldn’t even hope to see or block. Of course, most trained sword fighters weren’t ‘normal opponents'.

The sparing wasn’t particularly fair just on account of the age gap. But adding in the natural skill gaps made it impossible. Reese didn’t have the natural speed or strength to compete without techniques, and technically he wasn’t allowed to use direct spells and mana during training, like what he had just done. But it didn’t matter, because as soon as he tried Gezal would use his own techniques, or his father would step in and say using magic was ‘cheating’. Since Gezal actually had a working gate he could use techniques when he went all out, and Reese couldn’t even hope to compete.

Just what was he supposed to do, suffer?

Laying on the ground, Reese noticed the feeling in his side had been numbed away by the repeated hits. Only an outer circle of pain was left. He needed to figure out some way to get faster or stronger or this would continue to be a common occurrence.

“Done already?” Gezal mocked, pushing him to stand back up.

“You know I’m physically not as strong as you.” He verbally parried the attack, as he stood up on shaky feet.

“No, but sword fighting isn’t all about strength.” Again, he held out his sword ready to tap the blades.

A quick thrust from Gezal started the third and last match of the day. Each thrust felt like a Feint to Reese, but what was he going to do? A quick slice towards his side showed Gezal’s simple strategy. Close the distance, and slice at his side. The same thing he had been doing all day.

But this time Reese was quick enough to parry the blade before the strike. Pushing it back and out it felt like he had the upper hand for a moment, until Gezal’s greater upper body strength kept pulling at Reese’s sword. Quickly they traced a circle as Reese’ parry was turned back on himself in a riposte.

THWACK!

It was his right side that time.

“3-0. Not bad kid, you’re improving.” Reese could only rub at his side, it didn’t feel that way. “Come-on we got class!”

Thankfully school didn’t keep him very late, and he didn’t have any pages to do, but Emilie wanted to hang out for a while. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t be late for his second day of work, could he?

“You have a job now?” Emilie seemed confused by the prospect as he tried explaining it all to her. “Why not just ask your parents to buy the book?”

“I mean, I probably could but, it just feels like something I should do. Besides Charston seems kind of interesting. I think, he knows a lot.” With a shrug he tried to explain it.

“I guess I understand. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?”

There was a problem there too, he wasn't going to have a day off for a while. “What about later? We could hang out after I get done.”

“But don’t you eat dinner after that?”

“I mean, you could come over, I think my mom wouldn’t mind making an extra serving.”

Emilie stopped in her tracks, seriously considering the prospect. Her mother was going to be cooking tonight, and no doubt whatever it was would have far too many pickled vegetables. She'd still need to think about it.

“You’re on time.” Charston seemed surprised. “I was under the impression you always had to copy pages from that school’s illegal copying operation.”

Did everyone in town know how many demerits Reese had stacked up? Also, illegal? Did this world even have copyright laws?

“Before you start, I want you do something besides clean.” Charston handed Reese a small key, the key to the books on the shelf. “There are bugs that like to eat at the books, particularly the bindings. I haven’t been able to check the books on the bottom shelf in a while, start there.”

Reese looked at the key, it was a simple gesture, but already showed a lot of trust placed in him. Starting at the first shelf he came to he began unlocking one of the books “The Blue Blades: History of the Elven Pirates of Theas”, and scanned through it, skimming some of the text where he could. The title seemed like a history book, but many of the chapters looked more like stories and battles of Aquatic Elves vs mostly Anthros which seemed perplexing. He grew tempted to read them in depth.

“Hey, no reading. I’m paying you to inspect not imbibe.” With a sigh, Reese started ruffling though the pages for signs of damage, nothing in this one. On to the next, and then the next. What seemed like it should have been a quick job, took hours. But, it was worth it, for Charston at least, the next to last book, nearly fell apart as he took it off the shelf.

“Eh, see. That’s what I mean. Give me the pages.” Reese handed the loose pages and the outer leather binding to Charston. Small, little silver bugs ran around the book. They reminded him of silver fish.

“Dust that shelf with this powder, it kills them over time, but wont hurt the books much.” Charson gave Reese a jar of what he thought was poison, but as he looked seemed more like diatomaceous earth.

A light dusting later, and Reese watched Charston play with the pages. None of them appeared damaged, just the glue that bound them. “What are you going to do?”

“I'm going to try and repair it. These things only eat the glue, and maybe some of the threating. The pages should be fine, so are the boards. If I can rebind it, I can still sell it.” He looked at the spine and front board, then frowned at the title, “Fresall’s Mist Groves, Annsa Estraba” he read aloud.

“I couldn’t give these things away, probably not even worth the trouble of rebinding.” He looked at the nearly dissected book, and grumbled something about no book should be left this way. As if convincing himself it was worth the effort.

“Boy, go get me the binding kit from the back room. It will be in a box, with a tub of paste and some tools.” After he brought him the supplies Reese was hopeful that he’d be allowed to watch. He never saw a book get bound in either life. It seemed interesting.

“Eh, I don’t think I’m paying you to watch me.” Charston chided Reese, but before he could walk away to check the last book, Charston countered himself, “Just means you’re going to help me. Get me the knife and thread from the box.”

“My hands don’t work all that well, cut the threading here… Good, now see this fabric binding along the spline, slowly remove it. Here, if it sticks, use a touch of this to loosen it.”

When it was done, the book was completely dissected, pages left organized, the boards next to it all.

“Next, you need to sow the pages together. Just run the threat through the holes and around the bands… Good! Now, I need to glue it all together. Can't use too much or the pages stick together.” Charston insisted on putting the glue down himself. Once done, he put a mesh of very rough cloth over the bindings and tapped it all down with a wooden mallet.

This modest amount of work seemed to leave him out of breath. Reese watched him with concerned eyes as the old man's red face and heavy breathing reminded him of something from his other life. Something not good. “Are you Ok, Charston.” He probably shouldn’t have asked that question.

Charston was clearly embarrassed by the question and grew redder before snaping at Reese. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean? Of course, I’m fine you little brat. Go check the last books.”

From the floor, on the other side of the shop, he checked the last few books, looking over his shoulder as the shopkeeper finished the binding, and reattached the boards. “Eh, I’ll press it later.” Charston mumbled as he turned his attention back to Reese. “You done yet?”

“Yeah, this one’s fine.”

Charston looked out the window at the setting sun. The closing bell would ring in a few moments. Might as well close up, and finish the last steps of binding, he thought. “I’m going to close up, have to do one more thing to this book. Damn thing is only worth 20 silvers at most. Cheapest book I have here, besides the blank books.”

That reminded him, “Oh, I need to pick up a notebook, can you-“

“Yeah, yeah. Just grab your book.”

Scanning the shelf, he found an identical book to the one he already had. The old one served him well, it seemed worth the 10 silvers.

Charston though, seemed to disagree. “That’s an expensive notebook, what do need it for?”

“I mean, I am going to buy it. Today. With my own money.” Reese went fishing in his coin wallet but was stopped again.

“Not what I meant. I’ve saw your mother buy that notebook before; I assume for you. But it’s 10 silvers why do you need it?”

Reese didn’t really understand the question, “I need a notebook to write things in?”

Charston shook his head, like a grandfather explaining a simple truth to his naïve grandson. “Son, you need A notebook, not that notebook. Come here.” A rare occurrence, as Charston actually stood up and hobbled over to the notebooks with his cane. He snatched the book Reese was holding right out of his hand without asking and put it back on the shelf.

Instead, he wandered to the backside of the same shelf and grabbed one of the larger, and cheaper books from the top. “I see you always writing with those cheap charcoal crayons. That fancy paper is for ink. It’s a waste if you’re using those.” He was a little gentler when he handed this new book to him.

As Reese held it, he could feel it was heavier, but not only that thicker too, seemingly with more pages. Opening it, he could see the lower quality immediately. Fiber strands were much more visible, and less organized. The page edges seemed less well cut. There were slight color differences to the paper, even on the same page. The leather binder was harder as well. Like less effort was put into softening it. The tag on the shelf said 3 silvers 16 copper, it was cheaper for sure. Both in price and quality, yet, at the same time it did seem sturdier at least.

“It’s hard right? I mean leather. They made it that way on purpose. It’s cheaper, but it’s also more resistant to spills and mud. The binding is different too. It’s stiffer, they use cheaper glue, which means they need more. But it also makes it harder for the pages to come out, but they can stick together more. That notebook is meant for taking field notes. Seems more like what you’re looking for.” He hobbled back to the counter and proceeded to cash him out.

Reese pulled out 3 silver coins and handed them to Charston, but as he was fishing for the coppers, one of the silvers was pushed back to him. “That book is cheap. I got them for about 40 coppers each. You’re working for me. I can afford to let it go a bit cheaper than normal. And still make some money of course, heh.” Of course, he was right, he was technically making a few coins from the sale regardless.

As he tried to leave, Charston handed off 10 more copper coins, mossies was the term he used. Working under the older man was, irritating at times. But somehow, kind of fun. The man put off a mean vibe but seemed nice underneath it.

Reese wasn’t expecting to see Emilie outside when he got done.

“Hey! You mentioned about hanging out tonight. I hope you’re still good with that?”

Reese smiled, today was a good day. Hopefully tomorrow would be as well.

THWACK.

“1-0”

The morning wasn’t.

Reese considered not getting off the ground this time. Was there a point, knowing he’d just be back there in a minute?

“How do you do that?” Gezal asked the ailing child.

“Do what? Fall on the ground, it’s easy. You hit me, I fall over.” Despite the sarcastic response, Reese didn’t know what Gezal was referring to.

“No, I mean that stability technique you used yesterday. I’ve never seen the other soldiers do that.”

Leaning up, he thought about how to explain it. “They actually do something similar. There’s a technique called ‘Back Breaking’. It’s where you basically stabilize yourself by making the air immediately behind you harder. Gives you something to brace against. I can’t use true sword techniques though, so I learned how to invoke a similar spell. But it’s weak as shit, it’s why it doesn’t always work.”

“Wait, so you’re not using a technique?” This seemed to confuse Gezal, and a few others who were listening.

“No. It’s similar, but this is closer to just spell casting.”

Gezal tried to process it, his arms and legs were fast, but his brain took a bit of time to catch up. “…Is that because you don’t have a gate?”

Finally standing up, he grunted, “Yeah. Sucks.”

“I don’t have time to cast anything intricate, and I can only use what little mana is around me. But, I’ve gotten good at using that small amount, and I’m quicker with the silent casting. I just can’t do anything complex like you and my dad.”

Reese held the sword out, waiting for Gezal to tap it. “You, know I could just not use any techniques when you do that?” Gezal offered.

For a moment Reese considered it. He was tired of falling on the ground, and getting a little bloody. It had only been a few days but his whole body was already sore. His mind wandered back to his old life, all the games he had played. The late evenings he spent yelling into the void as he always chose a difficulty that was just a bit too hard. There was enjoyment in the challenge, it was how you got stronger.

Though, real life here didn’t have a cheat system he could use when he got frustrated. In fact the more he thought about it, cheating and memory editing was sometimes more fun than the game.

“Cheating”, the word rang though his mind. Breaking the rules was itself a challenge, and a fun one at that. It gave him something else to consider, changing the rules. Why was he obeying the same rules as everyone else if he was already handicapped? What he was thinking was dirty, but just once, he wanted to knock Gezal on his ass.

Taking him up on his offer wasn't enough, he needed something else.

“You ok Reese, your kind of spacing out.”

With a few quick movements, Reese thought about that ice spell Emilie worked on months ago. He could just barely cast the anti-fire part now. There was an aspect to magic he hadn’t really tried, enchanting. Specifically, infusion enchanting. It would take a lot of mana, and he had none. But that’s only if you wanted it to stick. If he was quick, and if he was smart he could chill his sword at just the right moment.

With a shake of his head, Reese nodded at Gezal’s question, and they tapped swords again. This time though, Reese would have a trick up his sleeve.

With the tapping swords he started casting the spell. A quick thrust and then slash from Gezal, a quick parry and bad feint. He saw Gezal’s sword slice in from the right, and he finished the cast. A flash of ice echoed through the wooden blade, feezing all the water in it for just a moment.

The swords clashed, Reese’s blade shattered on impact and Gezal’s blade froze on impact breaking in two. In the momet of surprise the ice spell seemed to effect Gezal as he too froze, unable to make out what was happening. In the storm of frozen splinters, Reese shoved his broken hilt forward, striking Gezal with just enough for to push him back. As his footing slipped, he fell, right on his butt.

With a smile Reese put the broken hilt in Gezal’s face. “Yield.” It was more command than a request.

“That was bullshit. Gezal complained from the ground.”

“Gezal’s right Reese. You can’t use magic in these matches only techniques, and even then, only if both of you agree beforehand. You’re here to work on your swordsmanship and your techniques, not magic.” Fortus backed up the older child, and admonished his own.

“You mean to tell me if you were in the field, in combat you wouldn’t use every advantage at your disposal? Come on. I can’t even use techniques.”

“You want to do double chores tonight?”

His timing was perfect, his execution of an on-the-fly strategy was flawless. It still wasn’t good enough for his father because it wasn’t done his way. To be fair, he doubted any knight would consider his attempt honorable.

“That’s still 1-0, try again.” Fortus commanded to the both of them.

And so with new wood, they did, with predictable results.

THWACK.

“2-0”

THWACK.

“3-0.”

Reese laid on the ground again, in pain from each day’s compounding strikes. He was never going to find a way to do this.

School came next, then the bookstore, then Emilie then sleep. Again, the next day, and next, and the next…

Days and months went by. He grew a little stronger, his muscles naturally faster. In all that time, there was just one additional time he got a strike on Gezal. Just one and was paid back in pain hundreds of times over. In truth, it was a lucky shot. His body just wasn’t capable of the same movements because of his age and wasn’t capable of the same techniques because of his gatelessness.

Again, he needed another way.