Lukas stood tall before Desmond Vorcan, one of his two trainers. This first meeting had been scheduled for the previous day, but the attacks on the contest champions and Reza’s injuries had delayed it by a day. Reza himself was absent and might not attend the first training session. He had left an hour earlier to meet with the leaders of Sorana’s church. Lukas hoped he would return before the training concluded; it would be beneficial to have both of his teachers present on the first day and begin the start of both aspects of his training.
What is he expecting me to do? Lukas had limited martial training beyond the rudimentary stick fighting he had engaged in with children in the nearby village near his family’s estate to the north. Some of the older kids had demonstrated techniques they had acquired from their fathers, many of whom were former legionaries. Recalling those moments, Lukas felt a sense of nostalgia and almost wished he could return to that time with the other children who treated him as an equal rather than as the son of a lord.
But Lukas also understood that Vorcan’s training wouldn’t be as enjoyable as stick fighting through the streets had been, and he would likely have to prepare for the most challenging day of his life.
“Stand up straight,” Vorcan commanded loudly from behind Lukas. The bald, older man wore a white robe and carried a single curved sword at his waist.
Lukas jumped and quickly straightened, keeping his arms stiffly at his sides. “Apologies, Lord Vorcan.”
“My Nephew is Lord Vorcan; you may address me as Master Vorcan,” he came full circle, standing in front of Lukas, his hand resting on his sword.
“Apologies, Master Vorcan,” Lukas said, bowing his head before returning his gaze to the man.
“That’s sufficient,” Vorcan moved to a bag he had brought out and began extracting various weapons. Primarily, there were different sizes and styles of swords. More than one was nearly the same size as Lukas. “Come closer.”
Lukas positioned himself beside Vorcan and surveyed the line of swords on the bench before them.
“The initial step we must take is to decide on the first sword you will use. You’re approximately 16 or 17 years old, right?” Vorcan inquired.
“17, Master Vorcan. I’ll turn 18 in about six months,” Lukas responded swiftly.
“Excellent, excellent. Here, try this one,” Vorcan said, grabbing one of the longer blades and handing it to Lukas.
Lukas, expecting the wooden blade to be lighter, was surprised by its weight. He realized it must have a metal core or something to help with the weight. Holding it in two hands, the four-foot-long blade comfortably fit both his hands. He held it in front of him, facing Vorcan.
Vorcan shook his head, returning the sword. “Perhaps, but I’m not certain a two-handed sword is suitable for you at this time.”
He handed Lukas a shorter sword, its blade about three feet long. Lukas accepted the blade, finding it lighter. His hands could still comfortably hold it with two hands, but the grip was tighter, almost uncomfortable. He tried holding it with one hand, keeping it in his right, but the weight dragged at his arm as he continued to hold it in front of him.
Vorcan shook his head, noticing Lukas's difficulty wielding it because of the weight. “This one is useless. Give it to me. That one is too heavy.” They tried various swords, but none seemed suitable for Vorcan. Finally, he grabbed another sword and handed it over. “Let’s see… I think this one might be the right one.”
This sword was significantly shorter than the last one, with only a single edge. It was lighter and fit comfortably in one hand. Vorcan held it up, and Lukas nodded in approval. Lukas moved the sword slowly and steadily through the air, feeling its balance and control.
“Yes, I think that will work. We’ll start with just this sword and without a shield initially,” Vorcan indicated a large wooden pole to the side of the open practice area. “I want you to follow my commands as I shout them. I want to observe your reaction and command of the blade. Let me demonstrate.”
He drew his wooden sword and stood firmly, maintaining balance throughout. “When I say ‘slash,’ I want you to slash across the pole.” Vorcan swiftly moved the blade, striking it against the pole and returning to his previous stance. The sword remained ready before him as if expecting the pole to retaliate.
Vorcan then demonstrated various commands he expected Lukas to follow: lunge, parry, riposte, remise, and beat. Lukas diligently executed each move, copying them in the air and attempting to memorize them. This process took over a quarter-hour before Vorcan moved away and had Lukas replace him at the pole.
“Position yourself now,” Vorcan commanded.
Lukas positioned himself in the best imitation of the stance Vorcan had assumed with his sword raised.
“Move your left foot back a few inches and your right forward. Your balance is off, and keep your legs slightly bent.” Vorcan instructed, and Lukas adjusted his position. He felt a slight backward movement, but he realized he had leaned forward excessively.
“Good. I’ll call out a move, and you must respond and complete it. We'll have a small punishment for each mistake you make.” Vorcan moved to his bag and retrieved a large ball. He dropped it to the ground with a resounding thump, and a puff of sand appeared around it.
“You’ll perform some squats with this ball or pushups. Let’s begin.”
Lukas turned back to the pole and resumed his position. He waited for Vorcan’s first command, his muscles tense with anticipation.
“Parry!” Vorcan barked.
Lukas swiftly moved, but the blade swiftly lashed out towards the pole before he could force it to stop and position it to block an imaginary edge threatening his body. He turned to face Vorcan, who wore a grim expression. Lukas realized he had failed. Damn it.
Lukas had been too eager to strike at the pole. If he wasn’t going to fail constantly, he had to be prepared to defend or attack, not just one.
“Again, Parry,” Vorcan commanded.
This time, Lukas managed to move the blade to block swiftly.
“Beat,” Vorcan yelled.
Lukas swiftly moved and struck the pole with the side of his blade, producing a resounding thwack that echoed throughout the practice area. However, he quickly returned his sword to its original position, ready for the following command. He risked a glance over to Vorcan, but his eyes barely moved before the next order came.
“Lunge,” Vorcan ordered.
Lukas lunged forward, his blade sliding against the pole and returning to its resting position. This rhythmic pattern continued for nearly a quarter-hour, leaving Lukas drenched in sweat. Large patches of dark dampness appeared on his shirt. Despite his efforts, he made several mistakes, his arm growing increasingly tired as he maintained the blade’s position. His legs, too, felt the strain of the repetitive movements.
“Good, Lukas over here now,” Vorcan moved to the ball. “Twelve mess-ups isn’t too bad for your first time. Let’s make that sixty squats, thirty pushups, and thirty curls.”
“Yes, Master Vorcan,” Lukas replied, gritting his teeth as he picked up the twenty-pound ball of sand. He began his squats, and by the time he finished, his thighs burned as he walked out of the gym, trying to alleviate the pain.
“Pushups now,” Vorcan ordered, leaning against the wall.
Lukas got down on the ground and slowly performed his pushups, only managing to complete ten before taking a break. He continued to stop every so often, allowing his body to adjust to the training’s effects.
“Good, that’s the first set. We have six more of these today before we head out,” Vorcan said, moving back to the pole and pointing at Lukas’s sword. “Let’s get going. You’ll have a break after the last set.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
The sets continued, and Lukas continued to tire even more, forcing him to make more mistakes. By the last group, he made another twenty-four mistakes, which in turn caused him to do 240 squats, curls, and pushups. Throughout the entire workout, Lukas cursed every mistake with passion. When the run came, he prayed to multiple of the echoes. Sorana or Amanore, please give me the strength to move my legs.
"Only fifty laps around the practice field, and you're done," Vorcan said, and they started slowly working their way around.
Lukas kept a slow pace, and Vorcan stayed with him, offering encouragement. "Only half a lap left; let's try to sprint it.
Not sure I can do that. But Lukas gritted his teeth and put everything into the last bit of the run, and Vorcan kept pace, not breathing hard from the laps. The man was in immaculate shape even in his advanced age.
"Keep going, keep going," Vorcan yelled as they rounded the corner and crossed back to the starting position.
Lukas collapsed on the ground, breathing heavily.
"Get up, Lukas." Vorcan held his hand out. Lukas took it and was pulled to his feet. "Not too bad, but you need to get up, or you'll be in worse shape."
Lukas continued to breathe heavily through his nose and out his mouth. Slowly recovering a bit of energy. When he could finally talk, he turned back to Vorcan. "Not going to lie, I did not expect it to be that hard."
"Just wait until he adds the rest," a familiar voice behind them said.
Turning, Lukas saw Reza walking to them from across the practice field. Three men stood at the front gate, armed and armored. He looked well after the multiple wounds he had only the day before. “Only fifty laps around the practice field, and you’re done,” Vorcan said, and they gradually began to run the first lap.
Lukas maintained a slow pace, and Vorcan remained with him, offering encouragement. “Only half a lap left. Let’s try sprinting it.”
I’m not sure I can do that. Gritting his teeth, Lukas put everything he had into the final stretch of the run, and Vorcan kept pace with him.
“Keep going, keep going!” Vorcan shouted as they rounded the corner and returned to the starting position.
Lukas collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath.
“Get up, Lukas,” Vorcan said, holding out his hand. Lukas took it and was pulled to his feet. “Not too bad, but you need to get up, or you’ll be in worse shape for it.”
Lukas breathed heavily through his nose and mouth, slowly regaining some energy. When he could finally speak, he turned back to Vorcan. “I must admit, I didn’t expect it to be this challenging.”
“Just wait until he adds the rest,” a familiar voice echoed behind them.
Turning around, Lukas saw Reza walking towards them from across the practice field. Three men stood at the front gate, armed and armored. He noticed that Reza looked much better than he did after sustaining multiple wounds the previous day. You could not have known he had been injured except for the pale white line across his neck, mostly hidden by his jacket.
“How did he fare?” Reza asked Vorcan when they joined.
“How much did you observe?” Vorcan inquired.
“You began the run when I arrived. I decided to observe for a while.”
“Fairly well for a beginner, making all the expected mistakes. I’ll quickly bring him up to speed before we do a full session.” Vorcan started gathering his equipment back into his bag.
“That’s good. I expect he’ll feel it in the morning,” Reza said, moving over to the pole where Lukas had been practicing.
Lukas attempted to return the sword to Vorcan but shook his head.
“Keep it. Do your own training and continue refining your skills with that blade. I’ll bring the shields and spears tomorrow. We’ll have a session before the contest, so we can finish early enough that you’ll have time to change.” He handed over a sheath and belt.
Lukas struggled to belt the sword before getting it right and finally sheathing it. It felt awkward at his side, but he knew that would change with time. “Yes, Master Vorcan. Will we be doing this every day?” Lukas asked, worried about how he would recover if he felt this way after every session. He had no idea how his legs would feel tomorrow, let alone how he would walk and do the training again. If this was only the beginning, he might have to ask for some healing.
“Of course, for the first few weeks or so. Starting after tomorrow, I expect us to do two sessions a day. Reza will join us when he can, but if we can get your body in shape, the lessons will be easier, and you’ll learn much more as we continue. All you have to do is apply yourself and keep a solid mindset.” Vorcan explained.
Two sessions. That seemed an insane prospect, but Lukas would try his best if that was what it took. It was all he could do. He would become something his cousin would be proud of—something that could defend himself against those who would try to hurt the people around him.
“Lukas, come over here,” Reza called out to Lukas.
Lukas slowly approached Reza, his legs barely moving as he took the short walk. His thighs were already tight and aching.
“Yes, Master Reza,” Lukas replied.
Reza made a strange face. “No, I don’t like that. Please call me Reza.”
Lukas nodded, acknowledging that it sounded strange. He was grateful that Reza had allowed him to stop using it.
“Reza,” Lukas responded. “Was there something you needed?”
Elana appeared beside Reza. “Summon your Wraith,” Reza ordered before turning back to Vorcan. “Did you summon your wraith at all?”
Vorcan raised an eyebrow but shook his head. “No, I focused solely on the sword today.”
Lukas reached out and summoned his wraith; the man slowly shuffled his deck of cards as he examined them. “His name is Severin. The Liberian, Tarimage, found him in the records.”
Reza’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Did they have any information on his powers?”
“No, only his name,” Lukas replied sadly.
Reza waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out eventually.”
Elana approached Severin and examined him again, as she had in the garden what felt like an eternity ago, but only a few weeks passed. Severin halted his shuffling and bowed low to her once more. Elana responded with a glare, and Severin couldn’t help but smile mischievously.
“I wonder why he does that?” he mused. “He hasn’t been out with many other wraiths, and I can’t recall him doing that to anyone else.”
Reza shrugged. “I have no idea. It could be anything; Elana reacts to everyone differently. Severin may be the same.”
Reza waved his hand again as if banishing something. “But that wasn’t the reason I wanted him summoned. I want you to keep him summoned daily for as long as you can.” He turned his attention to Severin. “I hope you don’t mind that.”
Severin pulled a card from the deck, allowing it to float before him. He placed a hand on his chin and tapped his lips thoughtfully. A smile spread across his face, and he shrugged at Lukas.
What is Severin doing? Lukas wondered; he could not fathom what the cards were about, but maybe it had to do with his ability. There was no knowing until they began to test them. “Lukas has no idea why he uses the cards.”
“That’s great! I always prefer to ask for permission before doing anything like this. Elana allowed me to do the same, but she doesn’t like to be out unless I’m going to use my powers.” Both looked at Elana, who was bluntly ignoring Reza and focusing on Severin. “I think she’s still upset about the assassins,” Reza whispered to Lukas.
Elana turned her head briefly before returning to her examination.
“Why do you want me to keep him summoned? Marcellus’s first rule was not to summon him unless he was truly needed, just as you mentioned a moment ago,” Lukas asked. It seemed contradictory to what many people had told him. Nobles never summoned their wraiths simply for the sake of it.
“Practice. Every training session, as you’re doing everything Vorcan or I order, your wraith will be present. If you lose the connection, summon it as quickly as possible. You need to learn how to maintain your wraith’s presence in any situation,” Reza explained. “My life was saved because my immediate reaction during the ambush was to summon Elana, and I managed to keep her summoned while I was bleeding out. This is crucial for becoming proficient with your powers, regardless of their nature.”
Lukas comprehended the gravity of the order. He already felt the strain of keeping Severin summoned and knew how easily he could lose focus. Therefore, he would try to spend every possible moment with Severin during the day.
Lukas nodded in agreement. “I will do my best.”
Vorcan approached the bag already been stowed away in the closet.“I will see you both later; I have urgent business matters at home.” Vorcan bowed, and Lukas and Reza mirrored his gesture.
“Have a pleasant day. Are you planning to attend the contest tomorrow?” Reza inquired, his curiosity piqued.
Vorcan nodded. “Of course, my nephew managed to secure several seats for our family in the main box.”
“Who are you rooting for?” Reza asked, a curious expression on his face.
Vorcan smiled. “Sabine, although with you here, I wouldn’t dare say anything else. But don’t worry, I don’t hold Lucius in high regard.” He chuckled and bid farewell, patting Lukas’s shoulder on the way out of the practice area.
Lukas turned back to Reza. “Speaking of tomorrow, will you need a ride to the contest? Marie had already ordered the carriages be readied for the family and your sisters. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
Reza chuckled. “Yes, she sent me a message. But I’m escorting Sabine to the contest in the morning. I’m unsure if she wants me to stay with her or if I’ll return and come to the contest with you all.” He shrugged.
That didn’t make any sense. “That would be a long journey back just to ride with us. Why would you take the trip more than once?” He asked.
Reza continued laughing as they walked from the gates that opened onto the streets of the practice area, with the guards falling in line behind them. As Lukas looked back, he felt the connection break, and Severin vanished. Damn.
If such a minor lapse caused Lukas to lose control, he would have to continue practicing. Summoning Severin back, Lukas held the connection, focusing on it.
“Long for you, maybe. I can return in plenty of time, just a leisurely stroll with Elana.” Reza reappeared on Lukas’s other side, making him jump.
He grabbed his chest, taking a moment to regain his breath as Reza laughed
“That wasn’t very funny,” Lukas said. Severin was gone once more, and Lukas summoned him once more.
“Apologies, apologies. It's all in good fun, but yes, I will let Sabine decide what she needs before I know. Please don’t wait for me. We will meet in the box regardless,” Reza responded.
“Of course, I will inform Marie. Although, I believe a massage and a warm bath are in order first.” Lukas rubbed his thigh. The walk home provided some relief from the cramps, but they were still quite tight. Fortunately, it was a short journey back to the front of the Sulli estate.
“Are you coming in?” Lukas asked as the guard opened the gate.
“No, no. I have moved back to the Rewans. However, I will see you tomorrow; ensure that you keep Severin out tonight until you can no longer do so.” Reza left his guard behind, and more than a few people glanced at him.
Lukas entered the estate, with Severin following closely behind. He would train, but first, he would attempt to alleviate the soreness throughout his body.