William and Jane made it back to Greenwell about thirty minutes later. Jane had not spoken In the last few minutes as William concluded his retelling of the fell-kin, dungeon, and trials.
Jane eventually spoke up, “The rest of us need to be stronger. We can’t rely on just you alone. I don’t want you to die somewhere away from us, nor do I want you to die protecting us. We all need to grow stronger and protect each other.”
William stopped in his walk, and Jane did so as well. The two looked at each other as William considered her words. He glanced at the defenses being erected, and was pleased to see that the palisade was not far off completion.
William pointed at the defenses and said, “We are getting stronger Jane. Higher levels, stronger defenses, growing knowledge. All these things will help us survive this new world.”
“Yeah...I know. It’s just...you could’ve died alone and we wouldn’t even know where to begin looking for you.”
“Maybe for now, but soon everyone will be capable of protecting Greenwell.”
“That may be so William, but we need you with us. I know your love for most of the village isn't exactly big, but since coming here, you've been more assertive. You should lead us.”
William felt some anxiety well up inside and beads of sweat started to seep out of the pores on his back. He took a few deep breaths to gain his composure. He noticed Jane looked worried at his reaction and seemed lost on what to do.
“Anxiety. I’m not as assertive as you think,” William said, a nervous laugh carried on his voice.
Jane walked up to him and held his arm with both her hands to support him.
“You know you have us William, we can be the pillar that supports you. You’ve demonstrated that you can delegate and think with authority,” Jane said with such a sympathetic tone.
It was a tone he had not heard directed towards him in years. It felt comforting to William and helped reduce the growing anxiety.
Jane saw William’s composure returning and added, “Besides, most of the village have warmed up to your directions and help. A couple have even said they have a lot of respect for you. Hell, I even think Stacey and Jill are crushing on you.”
William stammered slightly before replying, “Both of them? Crushing on me?”
His face reddened slightly and Jane started chuckling as she gave him a quick hug before letting go and replying, “Really? That’s the part you focused on? Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if they both wanted you at the same time.”
William cringed at his sister’s words before sighing and saying, “You really shouldn’t be saying that stuff to your brother, Jane.”
“I’m just fucking with you. Though I am sure on the crushing part. They keep talking about you and your ‘battle prowess’”.
“Yeah...some battle prowess, when I’m constantly getting injured in battle.”
“William, I hate to break it to you but I’m pretty sure that’s part of the process.”
“I suppose,” William said, finding that point particularly hard to argue.
Jane gave a victorious smile and then added, “Your pain threshold must be absurd though to say the least. Jeff got hurt while his group fought one of those Lynxes and he got gored in his arm. He cried from the pain. Apparently he never felt pain like it.”
William considered her words. Obviously getting gored is likely not to have happened to anyone he knew at least so it wasn’t really a comparable pain. Regarding the pain threshold comment, He wasn’t exactly certain it was that. It could just be the life or death fights, or even just raw adrenaline and survival instinct distracting his mind.
He couldn’t think of much to say so he just silently shrugged and changed the topic.
“I need to review the sword-forms I found. I intend to focus on that for a little while in hopes to get stronger,” William said, considering what the forms entailed with some anticipation and excitement.
Jane gave him a warm smile and said, “I’ll go and let the others know you’re back.”
She hurried away and William watched for a couple moments before smiling him self and shaking his head at his sister’s antics. William walked to his shed and lay on his bedroll, pulling out the sword-forms tome. He honestly didn’t know what to expect. Part of him expected diagrams and poses of sword forms and the like to come to life like a moving picture book or something. The description said it allows the reader to view the sword-forms, making that line of thought seem the most likely.
William ceased his pondering and opened the book. The inside looked plain as any other book. He turned the first page titled: Arcane Sword: Form One. He was at a loss for words as the next page was just...blank. A mere fraction of a second later, William’s world went white.
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William’s vision dimmed back down from blinding white to a low light setting. His surroundings were completely different. He wasn’t in Greenwell any more that was for sure. He then went cold at the realization that he didn’t have any gear either. He looked in every direction and could only see swirling translucent energy for what he guessed was miles. To make matters worse, he noticed that he didn’t have a body and couldn’t move in any direction. He was locked in place, only able to look around helplessly.
“Hello!” he yelled, hoping someone would appear to help him out of this mess.
His voice echoed, then distorted before it quickly faded into the distance. Fortunately, his wait was cut short as a large hall popped into view, and William now found himself inside a...Dojo? He tried to move once more but gave up as he discovered that his state remained the same. William instead focused on the room and what it contained. He noticed a swordsman practicing with a training blade.
William once again tried to speak but this time no sound left his lips. He was apparently mute as well inside the hall. He could merely just watch the swordsman repeat the same patterns over and over again. The Hall was sparse, lit by two large windows letting in the midday sunlight that illuminated the wooden floor in large streaks of light. Wall hangings with different iconography were on each wall and it reminded William of those old martial arts movies.
He focused back on the man training and realized that the pattern was the sword-forms kata. It was the only conclusion that made sense to him anyway. He watched the man thrust, step in with a circular glide of his lead foot, into a flick of the wrist sending the blade in an arc to the left. This was followed by a high guard and a pivot that was then chained into a downward slash. It was pure mastery of the sword he was witnessing.
The scene repeated over and over, and William started to visualize an opposing swordsman attacking the man before him. His mind envisioned every parry, counter, riposte, thrust, step, and slash. The katas appeared to be more than mere display of elegance but instead were an infusion of real fighting scenarios, demonstrating the techniques of the Arcane Sword and William gained the insight that the true learning wasn’t the skills themselves, but how they were applied and visualizing the opponent in training was the key to improving ones technique. Refining it. Polishing it. Sharpening it.
As he had that revelation, William’s vision went white once more and his vision faded back to the real world. He was still in his shed, on the bedroll. He noticed that the book was on his chest as if he had fell asleep while reading. William picked up the book and closed it as he instinctually felt the sword-form in his mind. It was as if years of muscle memory had been injected into his soul. William drew his sword and practiced the kata. He was astonished that he seemed to do it flawlessly. After a few moments, he tried to visualize the attacks of a shadow opponent. He thought back to his previous fights and found that it was much harder to actually anticipate and block attacks that were not direct opposites to the kata itself.
William sheathed the blade and pondered for several hours on his new knowledge and insights. He came to the conclusion that the techniques in the kata themselves were interchangeable and optimal for specific assaults. He would need to practice much more it seemed as he doubted the bandits would attack him anywhere remotely akin to how a swordsman would. Adopting the techniques and sculpting them to his needs would be the plan going forward. He also had to consider how to accommodate his buckler into that as it would add additional weight to one arm that could impede the balance of each technique. It seemed that a lot of trial and error would be required.
William decided to go straight on to the second sword form but was dejected immediately as he opened the book and felt a mental sting in his mind, forcing him to close it again. A mental message flashed in his head briefly telling William why. He had to first gain true insight into the first form before he would be allowed to view the second form. It seemed that his goal of being a phantom with the sword was a good way away still.
Over the next week, William had practiced his sword form unrelentingly imagining various scenarios and how best to apply the techniques he had learned. Once he knew what strike or technique to use, the inherited muscle memory kicked in on its own. His big difficulty was a lack of experience and imagination of various attacks that could exist. He did however get some results by the end of that week as he could roughly categorize most attacks into horizontal or vertical slashes and thrusts. The techniques kicked in successfully most of the time in his mind’s eye, but they were all of a similar pattern. He knew that his chances would be tougher in a fight if someone was skilled enough not to telegraph attacks like that. All William could do was hope that he would be skilled enough to counter the bandit assault.
The village's defenses had come on nicely once the palisade was finished. The towers to defend were mostly erected and the poison bush he found had been turned into liquid that was applied to spikes and into pails of water ready to be tossed over onto enemies. With the barricades erected around the perimeter too, the leftover wood was turned into crudely built shacks inside the settlement. The crude part came from the idea that carpentry was lacking in Greenwell. Defenses were one thing, but houses were another thing entirely, with much more complexities than a palisade. The end result was several wooden extensions sealed with packed mud between the gaps in the wood. The extensions were attached to the various storage sheds around the inner edge of the palisade. Other barricades had been built between each of the larger huts as well, so that if the bandits managed to get in, defenders would have a strong point to defend from.
An air of depression was briefly awash over Greenwell as everyone had to agree on a spot for a last stand if need be. That was naturally the area by the well. It had passed when William gave assurances that the assault wouldn’t make it that far. He couldn’t be one hundred percent certain on it but even if he was wrong they would all die and no one could tell him he was wrong. You have to love silver linings.
Good news kept coming towards the end of the week as it turned out that the little fields inside Greenwell where the crops were planted had been magically enchanted before hand and this caused the food to rapidly grow. They were able to harvest enough food for the whole town and with the numerous racks of dried Lynx meat, they could have more hearty meals going forward. The seeds were harvested and replanted immediately, and people started to gain some morale. William was glad as they would certainly need it.
He had decided to gather his party for a trip northward to scout for any more bandits in case any pre-emptive attacks were sent to hinder Greenwell before the final assault. The mood was good and chatter fun. The day was beautiful in the morning sun. As they crested a hill about five miles away from Greenwell, the mood was quashed as the group’s eyes locked onto another group of four at the bottom of their hill in very similar clothing.