Eric expected there to be more to the test than the simple act of taking a step down that path. Because to him, it had been a simple choice. Master Ehran had made it sound like he’d face a difficult decision, after all, but at least to him, there was no chance of failing. He had to keep moving forward, even if it might lead to his own ruin.
Sure, the last time he’d died in Ahya he’d been able to return after a year, an option that didn’t exist without Samuel. If he died again, it would be a permanent end to his presence in Emily’s life. But that wouldn’t stop him from continuing down the path he’d chosen, especially if, by doing so, he could guarantee her a life of peace and happiness.
That comforting resolve came over him as his vision faded, and he felt himself beginning to drift away. Even when he opened his eyes to find himself once again facing Ehran, he still felt at peace with the choice and grinned at his old teacher. “I thought you said that would be a difficult test.”
Not entirely surprisingly, he noticed that Ehran was grinning too. The silver runes were gone from his left hand, and he’d settled himself back in his chair to sip on his coffee further. He gave Eric a small wink. “I thought it would be, but you’ve proven yet again that you’re a greater man than I could have expected.”
“I don’t know how you could think that I’d ever choose not to fight for my family.”
Ehran shook his head. “I know you’d do anything for them. By the Mother, I’ve seen you sacrifice a great deal of your life and time these past five years, working to make their lives better.”
“And yet…”
Ehran nodded, understanding what he was getting at. “To you, the choice was an obvious one. But to a lesser man, the thought of not meaning anything, in the long run, would almost certainly dissuade them from acting.”
Eric could only shrug in reply to that. “I’ll be forgotten eventually anyway. Nobody can be remembered forever. But if what I do helps Emily, then it’s worth it.”
Ehran’s grin widened, and he raised his coffee mug in a mock toast to his former student. “And that’s why I had every faith that you would pass.”
Eric patted himself on the chest, frowning slightly. “I don’t feel any different, though. Shouldn’t I feel something, now that Longfang’s power has grown a bit in me?”
“Give it time,” Ehran advised. “You didn’t get to where you are quick, so it will take a while to manifest.”
“How long, do you think?”
“Hmm,” Ehran rubbed his chin thoughtfully, staring at Ehran. “When I was first granted that power, I think it took nearly a day for Haya to start showing the signs.”
“Which means that between now and our attack, I’ll be able to tell that something’s different.”
“That’s the hope, at least,” Ehran agreed. He drained the last of his coffee and set the empty mug down. “You should rest while you’re here. I’m off to double-check the finer points.”
“You sure you don’t need my help with something?” Eric asked, half rising from his seat, but Ehran waved him down.
“Save your strength for tomorrow. Talk to your men and make sure they’re all prepared. It’ll be a hard fight.”
Eric finally accepted the instruction, giving Ehran a wave as he left. He was behaving strangely casually, considering the weight of the task they’d be taking the next day, he thought. Maybe that was just his way of letting off some steam. When they’d first met, Ehran had struck him as one of the more easy-going members of Issho-Ni. Despite his skill and respect in the organization, he was always light, easily grinning when he interacted with others.
“Well, it’s not like he’s changed that much,” Eric said to himself, setting down his empty mug. “Still light, even if he has more responsibilities now.”
Johan appeared out of nowhere and sat across from him. “Was wondering where you’d gone off to, boss. Ehran share anything important about the mission?”
“Yeah,” Eric said, trying his best to sound casual. “Looks like I’ll be bearing the brunt of the attack at first.”
“That hardly sounds fair,” his friend said, his mouth twisting into a frown. “They really expect you to handle dozens of Infernals on your own?”
“Just long enough to take out the runes that prevent us from teleporting into Milagre,” Eric answered. He scratched his chin idly as he looked around the taproom. Now that he had a rare moment to relax, he thought he might get a good meal in. “Apparently beside Ehran, I’m our fastest option.”
“Why can’t Ehran do it himself?” Johan said. “I don’t mean to sound heartless or ungrateful, but he’s much faster than you. He could probably wipe out those runes in minutes.”
“He said he’s involved in another part of the plan,” Eric replied. “Plus, he doesn’t have the ability to teleport in using Ancient magic.”
“And you do?” Johan raised an eyebrow. It was the first he’d thought of the fact that his Captain might be able to use that fabled Ancient Magic. “You’re not an Ancient. You’re just human and not even Ahyan.”
Eric had to grin at that. “That’s what I thought at first. But it might be possible. I never told you how I was summoned here to Ahya, did I?”
Johan shook his head slowly, so he explained everything, including what Samuel had told him about his own temporary body. “So you’re made out of Samuel’s mana.”
“Yes. Not only that, but I think the runes he put on my back could, just once, give me enough energy to do the job.”
“It could work,” Johan said, but he looked doubtful. “I don’t know enough about how magic works. But if Ehran and Samuel think it could work.”
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
“Well, we don’t know what Samuel’s opinion on it would be,” Eric said, glaring as the memory of Samuel’s death momentarily came back to him. He hadn’t had enough time to truly process that tragedy, he thought. Then a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. What if that interfered with his upcoming mission? But he couldn’t think that then he might actually self-actualize that doubt into a real stopping force. With a supreme effort, he put the thought to the back of his mind, for later consideration.
“You want to eat dinner here?” He asked Johan, making it clear with his tone that they wouldn’t discuss the matter any further, at least for now. “It looks good enough.”
“I’m sure it won’t hold a candle to your cooking, but sure,” Johan said, grinning as the topic was changed.
Two or three hours later, after they’d eaten and had a chance to bathe at the inn, Johan and Jerik found him in the town center. He was training with some of the soldiers, helping them keep active to take their minds off the upcoming ordeal of the next day. They trained with wooden weapons, and Eric had already worked up a good sweat facing off against them.
To his surprise, Eric saw that the four mercenaries he’d picked up in Sheran were also there. The druid girl was sitting cross-legged by a fence, mending some clothing with a needle and thread, and the elven ranger was leaning next to her, looking bored. The two warriors, the tall Attosian and the Nihon-Jan, though, perked up at the sparring and came over.
“Do you think we could join you?” the Attosian asked. Eric searched for his name for a moment, then remembered it was Leonov. “Could help to unwind a bit before tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Eric said, gesturing them forward. “But don’t go too far. We want you all in good shape tomorrow.”
Leonov nodded silently, and several of the soldiers let out laughs. “Good shape is a novel idea when you’ll be done whacking us with those sticks, Master Breeden.”
Eric grinned at them, shaking his head. “Hey, it’s good practice for me too. I can’t afford to be rusty. And this is better practice than anything else, facing off against you all.”
He took a long draft of water, then beckoned them forward again. “One more try.”
He trained with them for perhaps another hour, until he could feel his muscles starting to protest. They came at him in a wide variety of attacks, rushing him, darting at the small gaps in his guard, and battering him with their training swords. He was pleased that he let very few attacks through and gave far more than he got. By the time they finished, the men who’d been practicing with him walked away grumbling about bruises but looking reassured nonetheless.
“You’re very good in a fight,” he told Leonov and Taiki. He looked sidelong at the Nihon-Jan woman. “Bit lighter than the weapon you’re used to, isn’t it?”
She offered a diffident shrug. “It’s not that heavy, actually. Only about eight pounds.”
“Huh.” It was all he could think to say at first. “I always thought kanabos would be heavier than they look.”
She looked surprised. “You know my weapon? I haven’t seen one outside of Nihon-Ja.”
“Well, I’ve spent a lot of time in Issho-Ni,” he said with a smile. “Plus, I was a bit of a weapon buff in my earlier days.”
Leonov let out a laugh. “You sound much older than you are, Master Breeden.”
Eric’s smile turned a bit rueful at that. “Comes with the experience, I suppose. I expect my daughter will call me an old man as soon as she knows what that is.”
“She seems a lively child,” Leonov said. “Quite vocal for her age.”
There wasn’t much Eric could add to that. In any event, thinking of Emily threatened to turn his mood sour once again, so he decided to change the subject. Wiping his forehead with a towel that had been hung on the nearby fence, he asked, “So. Have you four spoken to the commander to find out your job for the attack?”
They nodded solemnly, but didn’t expand on the answer. There was probably a reason for that, he thought and didn’t push it further. Instead, he did what he thought was appropriate, seeing as how he’d apparently gained some semblance of leadership and respect at the moment. He put a hand on Taiki’s shoulder and gave their entire party a reassuring nod. “Don’t worry. You four seem capable, and you’ll have more than enough help. Just fight to the best of your ability, and you’ll turn out alright.”
-
Time was a fickle thing, Eric thought, looking behind him at the large crowd of figures gathered behind him. There were nearly three hundred of them all told. It was enough to be an army, but considering the enormity of the task ahead of them, the numbers seemed pitifully low. But it was the best they could muster on such short notice.
“Are you ready?” Ehran asked him, having approached without him noticing. “Remember, you’ll have no support until you take out the runes.”
Eric nodded. He didn’t speak at first, as he felt like there was a large obstruction in his throat, cutting off both his speech and his breathing. Finally, he got a simple question out. “How many do I need to destroy?”
Ehran appeared to consider that for a few moments, then finally shrugged, not at all an encouraging gesture. “I’m not sure. I know that not all of them are required, but the instant there’s enough, the mages will teleport men in after you.”
Eric glanced back again and took careful note of the mages in question. They were sitting down in the grass, their faces tense. They knew how important it was to do their job right, for if they were too late, Eric would be surrounded and taken out. He let out a long breath himself and turned away once more. He gave Ehran a nod. His mentor offered him a sympathetic smile. “Ready when you are, then. I have complete faith in you.”
He made his way back to the main force to handle his own pre-attack business, and Eric closed his eyes, focusing hard. He wished he’d spent more of the previous day coming up with the plan on how exactly to do this, instead of all that training and talking. However, to his surprise, he found that drawing the power of the runes on his back out was easier than expected. Well, now he had the energy to do what had to be done. But how would he do it?
First, he tried to will himself forward. He remembered the image of the palace in his mind’s eye, and he tried to force himself to move by sheer willpower. But that didn’t seem to have an effect. He let out a sigh of frustration and started pacing back and forth, trying to think up a new plan. Suddenly, he heard a voice in the back of his head.
“Perhaps I can be of some help,” Hunter offered. Eric could tell it was Hunter because the voice was identical to what he’d heard in his test. “I can take you, but I’ll need quite a bit of power.”
Eric didn’t bother to question it. Calling Ehran back, he drew his blades. “Hunter knows what to do. But we need power built up.”
Ehran looked confused for only a second or two before he drew his own swords. The members of the attacking force made noises of confusion and concern, but the two paid them no mind. Ehran attacked Eric, and the blow was parried to the side. Ehran gave him no time to stall or relax and continued to slash and jab, letting Eric continuously parry the blows. Little by little, he could feel the energy building up inside his body, until, without warning, Hunter appeared.
“Well then,” Ehran said, grinning at the sight of the best as it ran away from Eric in a wide circular path. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Eric said, watching as Hunter made a sharp turn and ran right at him. In the back of his mind, he heard the wolf shout at him to prepare. As soon as the blur of white fur slammed back into him, he felt the energy catapult him forward, pitching the world around him into darkness. All he was aware of was that old sight of flashing, distant stars, and the view of the darkness around the world.
Then, just as quickly as it had faded, his vision returned, and he recognized the stonework in front of him. It had worked! He was deep in the palace basement, deep enough that it had escaped the ferocity of the explosion that had destroyed everything on the surface. As it stood, there wasn’t anyone in sight.
“Right,” he said, gripping his swords more firmly. “Lead the way, Hunter, and let’s get this over with.