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Castle that wishes to fly
13. The Weakest Warrior

13. The Weakest Warrior

One small favor could have a profound impact on an entire life, and for Suri, this proved true. She had agreed to share the power of the rune, enabling Cassia to safeguard herself during the impending trials. In return, the mage seized the opportunity to forge potent allies.

The captain of the third rank possessed all the necessary qualities to ascend to the position of senior mentor. Despite Imber’s physical condition, it remained indisputable that the warrior had ventured into the Labyrinth multiple times and emerged unscathed. The experience gained through sweat and blood was a valuable asset for a neophyte aiming to become a hunter—something not easily attainable even by a blood mage.

For the first time in the history of Azur, Archmage granted a member of the Warrior’s Order access to the sacred domain of the savant. The secluded prior`s workshop, nestled in the inner part of the castle donjon, proved ideal for the practice of a wild mage who drew undue attention.

Suri noticed significant changes in Imber during their time apart. Pain etched determined lines on his face, and his once sun-kissed skin now bore an earthy hue. A hidden burden weighed on Imber, bending his once agile frame. His suffering emanated from his right hand, concealed beneath a cloak. A single glance at the thick, dark material sent shivers down the girl’s spine.

“Blood mage,” the warrior greeted with a welcoming nod.

“Captain,” the girl murmured, mirroring his greeting. “Suri is enough.” The term ‘blood mage’ sounded unpleasant; the brother and sister had given it a special meaning.

Cassia cast a glance at her brother and immediately lowered her head. Unlike the servant, Suri didn’t notice anything peculiar in his behavior.

“This is a great honor for my sister,” Imber continued after a short silence. “I’ll exert every effort to ensure you won’t regret it.”

“Are you certain?” The captain’s pallid lips and erratic breath unnerved her. “I give you my word. Your answer won’t change my decision.”

“Believe me, breathing here is far easier than in my room.”

“I understand, mentor,” Suri replied. Imber raised his hand to interrupt her.

“I wouldn’t dare. In any case, let’s not waste time. Cassia became your sparring partner, and I hope you found use for her abilities and kept her close.”

The man surveyed the workshop, meticulously choosing an appropriate spot for active training. Numerous shelves, brimming with various oddly shaped items, veiled the curved walls of the oval space. Precious artifacts of different sizes lay scattered on the floor, while warriors spilled blood even for the smallest ones. The resources available to one of the priors exceeded the expectations of any member of the Order.

“Usually, mages choose the weapons they want to master themselves, and more than one,” he remarked as Cassia prepared the training ground. Soon, all the priceless clutter strewn here and there found its secure place. On the cleared tables, girl laid out various weapons wrapped in pieces of oiled fabric. In most cases, these were light, short blades suitable for a modest height and slender build. Imber had prepared in advance.

“Compared to the teeth of a monster, all these weapons seem like mere toys.” Suri’s face mirrored doubts.

Imber didn’t invite her to examine the blades. Her manner of movement, stance, and choice of position in the room didn’t distinguish her from an ordinary woman. Mages harbored innate habits, akin to the finest predators of the Labyrinth. They didn’t learn; they only recalled forgotten skills. That’s how others perceived them. And it was terrifying.

He handed Suri a long dagger. In a couple of days, the clumsy girl, like all mages, would undergo a profound transformation. The more she discovered within herself, the stronger this transformation would be.

Cassia grabbed an identical dagger from the table, slipping into a combat stance. Swift strikes sliced through the air, the blade gleamed in the bright light of yellow crystals scattered across the ceiling. Her movements, a dance of control, seamlessly melded her body with the dagger’s edge.

Suri gasped in shock. Prepared for anything, she didn’t expect the young girl handling the dagger as skillfully as a hunter. Pride flashed in Imber’s gaze; he nodded, inviting her to join the dance. However, the dagger in her hands executed unthinkable strikes, as if threatening to attack its own mistress. The more Suri endeavored to tame the dagger’s nature, the more uncontrollable it became. Her palms grew damp, the weapon slipping from her hand, slamming flat into the wall with a resounding clang.

Cassia paused, delicate chestnut eyebrows lifting. An ordinary guild member displayed better skills than Suri. It hadn’t been half a day, and one of the mages couldn’t stay still. Even a blind person could see she wasn’t made for combat. Imber was confident the next day would make a difference, as it always did. Never before had the captain of the hunters been so wrong.

***

Under Imber’s vigilant gaze, combat training intensified with each passing day. Suri found herself consistently under his scrutinizing eye, fully aware that more rigorous trials awaited her in the next session.

In stark contrast to the servant, the wild mage had mastered the art of complete incompatibility with cold weapons. No one found it surprising when Suri lost her balance during a lunge. Her center of gravity shifted, and she tumbled to the floor. A sharp burning sensation surged around her leg amidst the pain from the impact. Cassia approached, her brow furrowed, as a crimson cut emerged on mage`s pale skin.

Suri pulled away from Cassia and rose to her feet. With determination, she raised her weapon, refusing to dwell on failure.

“Enough,” Imber declared, raising his palm to conclude the training. The blood mage’s breath sounded uneven and intermittent. Sweat-soaked, light hair clung to her neck. Continuing was meaningless, as the apprentice would only solidify her mistakes.

Suri acknowledged the rare displays of, if not sympathy, at least concern from Imber. While she caught her breath, the nimble girl smeared a foul and viscous substance over the thin cuts that had surfaced after today’s training. It stung, bringing tears to Suri’s eyes. Yet, soon, a pleasant coolness spread over her skin, alleviating the pain.

Finished with the mage’s wounds, Cassia bowed, preparing to leave the workshop. In the last moment, Suri grabbed her hand. The energetic girl was unstoppable otherwise.

“I’ve prepared more runes,” she said, pointing to the table. “Want to take a look?”

“Of course,” the servant exclaimed, hastening toward the rare treasures. Her avid gaze fixated on the pattern of the basic rune. With trembling fingers, she traced the living design, relishing the warmth emanating from it. She had to learn this rune before, but each time, it looked different.

“I still think ‘fire’ suits you best,” Suri’s interested voice sounded. Cassia was so engrossed that she didn’t notice the mage approaching, peering over her shoulder. The rune sensed the presence of its creator and pulsed.

“I simplified and infused it with power for you. Will you try to awaken it?”

Upon hearing those words, Cassia tensed as if bracing for the most elaborate torture. She withdrew her hands from the rune, and Suri, curious, checked to see if the rune had truly ignited. Astonishing transformations occurred with the agile girl when it came to true speech.

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“This time, you’ll succeed,” the mage’s confident voice echoed. Cassia bit her lip, still hesitating. She had no right to further desecrate savant`s creation. Perhaps, only one last time.

The girl focused on the rune. Nearby, she felt the mage’s breath and a soft whisper: “Imagine fire.” Cassia’s ears flared, but she didn’t take her eyes off the scroll.

Meanwhile, Suri stepped back from Cassia. She could no longer assist, as she wouldn’t be able to during the hunters’ trials.

A familiar sweet scent emerged in the air. Cassia awakened her power, and Suri felt it. A pale-blue dot flickered in the supple body—small, barely noticeable, but confirming Cassia’s eligibility to join the hunters.

The pale-blue aura thickened, and the rune faded. Sweat formed on Cassia’s forehead from the tension as she tried to keep the elusive essence on the parchment. But, the lithe creation escaped from her once again, leaving behind a faded ink trace. Suri blinked, gazing at the clean parchment where the rune’s power had recently exploded.

This was the distinction between savants and warriors. Regardless of Cassia’s potential, she harnessed it differently. And it was beyond her control. The blood mage touched the second parchment with the exact same rune. In her mind, hissing flames licked at charred firewood. The image changed each time, following the rune’s mutable nature.

The rune responded, and fire erupted from beneath Suri’s fingertips. The fierce flame hummed, licking at her pale skin. A snap of fingers, and all fell silent. On the table remained a white, ashy trace.

As the flame subsided, Cassia grabbed the mage’s hand, checking for burns.

“I’m fine,” Suri reassured the girl. “I shared energy with the fire; it won’t harm me. But you, on the other hand, drained the rune as if you wanted to become the fire yourself.”

“I had no idea the Savants Circle was so skilled with living speech,” Imber’s voice held genuine admiration. Seeing the power of the rune up close for the first time, his heart pounded with awe. His sister’s captivation with this strength wasn’t surprising, but what was remarkable is that the mage wasn’t afraid to share it.

Suri shrugged. For her, the abilities of warriors seemed much more useful than the skill of kindling a campfire.

“Could you obtain another permission from the Archmage?” the warrior continued. His voice sounded excited, and his eyes sparkled.

“You want someone else to join the training?” Suri asked in return.

“Yes,” the warrior replied immediately. “We need to change tactics.”

“I’m not in a position to doubt that. I’ll do as you wish.”

“I thank you on behalf of Avalon. Luck has finally smiled upon him.”

“Hasn’t he joined the first rank?” the mage wondered. “Does he have time for something else?”

“You’re right. It will certainly attract unwanted attention, but there’s no other way,” Imber responded, stretching his numb right shoulder. “Cassia alone won’t suffice, and I’m not in a condition to accompany you. Though we have a bit of time before the first rank takes action.”

Suri nodded. “Another warrior won’t distract the mentor. She sees nothing but runes anyway.”

Waving goodbye to Cassia and Imber, Suri headed toward the far end of the workshop.

***

Secret corridors interconnected the savants’ workshops and living quarters with the library of the Council hall, providing an exclusive path for the mentats. Only members of the Circle, and perhaps the Magister, were privy to the existence of these concealed passages. Aside from her mentor, Suri never crossed paths with other night-dwellers of Azur. They adeptly guarded secrets, even from each other. Those deemed useless did not deserve a share of the hunters’ spoils.

After a demanding workout, Suri refreshed herself and changed into clean clothes in her room. Taking a short break, she smacked the wall, activating the hidden rune. The stone wall opened, and the mage stepped inside. In the complete darkness, the girl’s palm instinctively found the rough surface, and the warm stones provided a pleasant sensation. A rustle stirred ahead, and a shiver passed through the stones – as if the castle itself had taken a breath.

In her pouch, a crystal waited for the right moment, yet Suri refrained from taking it out. Stepping forward with confidence, the girl began a mental count. “One, two… ten, turn right. One, two… seven, turn left…” It came so naturally, as if she had spent her entire life here. The savants were adept in their methods, particularly in concealing their workshops. The illusion rune was effective, but it didn’t work in darkness.

Soon, the mage pressed her palms against the wall, and it yielded. Before her, the vast library unfolded, bathed in bright sunlight. After the calming darkness, the sharp contrast burned her eyes and skin. The expansive view from the huge window could engulf Suri’s mind at any moment, prompting her to turn behind a tall shelf, finding her favorite corner.

The Archmage had left new materials for her apprentice on the stone table. The same rune adorned all the scrolls. Suri could recognize her mentor’s work anywhere. The woman treated the living script with great care and love, crafting every line with deep respect for the power concealed within the pattern.

[Barely a worthy example, practically devoid of power], the velvety voice stirred after a long slumber. [Perhaps even… Hm, yes. It can withstand one blow from the beast. So, passably.] For the first time, the Heart highly appreciated the rune crafted by the castle resident’s hands. The prior’s skill was unquestionable.

[I thought I would never hear you again,] the girl remarked, setting aside the scroll and attentively listening to the cube’s quiet voice. Lately, earthquakes had been happening more frequently, and Shug, on the contrary, was becoming less active.

[Glumph, as if Shug had anything to say to the creature,] the voice chuckled. [It’s hardly fitting to call it a mage.]

Suri’s lips stretched into a smile. If he had the strength to grumble, then he is alright.

[You say it can withstand a blow from the creature? The needle?] the girl directed the conversation where she wanted it.

[‘Shield’. A good choice. Shug will show how to awaken it.]

[That’s wonderful, but I’m afraid I’ve already used the runes today and I’m exhausted,] Suri declined the help. After the workout, her body ached, and she doubted her ability to maintain control over an unfamiliar rune.

[What does the creature think of itself? Shug will find time for such small matter,] the voice mumbled with a smacking sound.

The wooden bracelet on the girl’s wrist warmed up, emitting blue flashes. The Thorn heated up more and more until its aura touched the scroll. The exquisite lines of the rune quivered and refined, as if the parchment had absorbed the ink. The scent of an approaching storm filled the air as the rune came to life.

Around Suri, a dense air current surged, flipping the massive table. Parchments and scrolls soared into the air, descending to the floor like withering leaves. The roar muffled the girl’s ears, and an unbearable urge to swallow gripped her. In the next moment, the warmth from the bracelet shifted to a lifeless cold.

“Not now,” Suri pleaded. The color drained from her face. The power of the rune awakened by the Heart burdened her, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Shug abandoned her, succumbing to an unwelcome and abrupt slumber.

A ripple ran through the barrier. An air vortex detached, brushing against Suri’s face, and something warm trickled down her cheek. The rune slipped out of control, turning against its goal of protection.

Frowning, Suri concentrated, fixating on the living pattern in her hands, attempting to subdue the feral essence. The warmth left the girl’s body; her fingers clenched in a spasm. She blinked, attempting to dispel dark apparitions, but they persisted in obscuring her vision.

Beyond the barrier, a black shadow flickered—a blurry silhouette. It was challenging to discern whether it was a real person or a creation of a horrifying imagination.

An outer stream of power crashed into the barrier, creating a breach. The intense pressure also struck Suri, yet she felt relief. The mentor had come to her aid.

In a final act of revenge, a whirlwind swept through the shelves, knocking previously untouched scrolls onto the floor. Suri fell to her knees, gasping for breath. The roar had ceased with the dispersal of the barrier.

“Do you believe the runes obey you, and that’s why you dare to reduce your attention?” a cold female voice echoed. Archmage Velda appeared as if out of nowhere. Her large eyes narrowed, and emotions bubbled under her thick eyelashes. “Have you not given up on death yet?”

“I’m sorry,” Suri managed to part her lips.

“How dare you take such risks?” the Archmage’s voice rang with anger. “Usually, you’re smart enough to understand your limits. But what do I see? The blood mage almost became a victim of her own ‘shield’.”

“The rune absorbed my powers, and I didn’t know how to sever that connection,” Suri justified, attempting to soften the mentor’s anger.

“How else, when several mentats usually supported the barrier?” the woman roared, stomping her foot. She raised her hand, pointing a thin finger at her careless ward. Clearly defined, sharp cheekbones hardened the prior’s delicate facial features.

She sighed and sat down next to the apprentice, checking the cut on her cheek.

“The fire rune obeyed more easily than usual, and I thought there would be no problems,” Suri whispered.

“I still can’t figure out what’s more in you: despair or recklessness?” the Archmage remarked. “Fine, mindlessly scatter runes, and burn out your core with another mentor. I was doing fine without an apprentice.”

A deep crease rested between thin black eyebrows, and the fabric wrapped around the head loosened and tilted. However, all of the Archmage’s attention was now directed towards the young mentat on the floor.

“Thank you, mentor,” said Suri.

“Pf,” snorted the Archmage. “You owe me a rune.”