Hallik

The leather grip of his wooden practice sword felt hot in Hallik’s palm as he faced off against Storr. The other boy was taller and thicker, and he came from the final year class, while Hallik was still a year behind. Arenda, their combat instructor, stood to the side, arms folded, wings tucked behind her back.

This was Hallik’s chance to prove himself. If he could beat Storr, then that should be proof enough that he could enter the depths of Vanalf a year early. Then he could emerge from the cave a Grimnir, a survivor gifted with one of four magical classes. He was tired of being an initiate. He needed the strength necessary to go off on his own and find what happened to his father.

Arenda nodded, and the battle began.

Storr was no fool. He knew of Hallik’s reputation among his own age class. His first move was careful, a step forward with a practice swing arcing harmlessly in front of Hallik.

Though he was only seventeen, Hallik had been training his whole life to become a Grimnir. Storr was the same, though just a year older. They’d both become Grimnir students at the age of ten.

Storr was at the top of his class, just like Hallik, but the younger man was convinced he was the better fighter. Hallik took his own practiced swing, keeping the sword in his right hand, knees slightly bent as he twirled the dull blade. If left unimpeded, the swing would have thwacked Storr on the wrist, but the older boy twitched his hand to the side and countered with his own attack.

Hallik parried.

Storr swung three times in quick succession, but Hallik batted each attack away with his own sword. Energy pulsed in his veins, urging him on. A crowd of students had gathered around the courtyard, knowing that this was a fight not to be missed. They held their breath in utter silence.

Hallik took in his own sharp breath and swung up. Storr moved to block, but Hallik feinted and switched the trajectory, aiming his sword tip for Storr’s elbow. The older boy tucked his arm in just enough so that Hallik’s wooden sword barely grazed the skin. Storr stabbed for him, but Hallik brushed the stab away with the hilt of his sword. The wooden point of Storr’s sword passed right by Hallik’s cheek.

With a spin, Hallik closed the gap between them, bashing the pommel of his sword against Storr’s shoulder with a thunk. The older boy kneed at him, but Hallik dodged back with a skip, parrying Storr’s swinging blade at the same time. He hammered down at Storr with a flurry of strokes, and for a moment, Storr kept pace, but his reactions were too far behind, and eventually, one of Hallik’s swings took Storr on the upper thigh.

Storr shouted at the pain, but it wasn’t considered a killing blow. Hallik batted away Storr’s sword before pushing the point of his sword up against his chest. The students roared, many of those from his own class jumping and cheering louder than the rest.

“Dead,” Hallik said, unable to keep the smile from his face.

Storr scowled at him, but gave no rebuke, so Hallik clasped the boy’s hand to help him rise.

“Good fight,” Hallik said, raising his voice to be heard over the tumult.

Storr rolled the shoulder Hallik had bashed and offered a small nod. Hallik might have felt the same if he'd been beaten by one of his youngers.

Arenda nodded her approval to Hallik.

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Hallik smiled at her and approached. “Perhaps now you will consider letting me go through Vanalf this year.”

Arenda narrowed her eyes, lips twitching. “You want to enter Vanalf so badly?”

Hallik nodded. “Yes. Of course.” He could feel the excitement climbing up his chest like cold water, pushed with a strong current. There was no way she could deny him. Not even Lind, the head instructor could say no after today’s display.

Arenda nodded and looked down. A second later, her fist shot forward, exploding towards Hallik’s nose.

Instinct was all that saved Hallik. He jerked his head to the side, dodging the punch. Eyes wide, he stumbled away from her. With his practice sword still in hand, he raised it warily.

The students gasped before going silent. This was unprecedented. The teachers never fought with students.

Arenda stooped to pick up a practice sword at the edge of the circle formed by the onlookers. “You want to enter Vanalf, do you?”

Hallik nodded, though he kept his sword up, her intentions unclear.

“Have you fought against monsters before?” she inquired, stepping within reach. The muscles of her arm flexed. Arenda was a Valtyra, one of the four Grimnir classes, and the class best known for creating the ideal soldier. Among other things, she was blessed with strength, endurance, and the ability to fly.

“No,” Hallik said, taking a step back. “I have not.”

Arenda swung for Hallik with her practice sword, the attack coming with blinding speed. Only his distance had saved him as he stepped back, sword failing to deflect the attack. The wood whistled in front of his nose. By the depths, was she trying to injure him? She swung again, this time, their swords connected, and the impact of it sent tremors up Hallik’s arm. She was powerful. He took another step back.

“Monsters are faster than you,” Arenda said. “They are stronger.” She swung twice more. Hallik deflected the first blow, but it nearly dislodged the sword in his hand. He dodged the second, taking another step back as he’d ducked, but his back was nearly touching the crowd of silent students behind him.

He understood she was trying to make a point, but he did not intend to be made a fool. With a snarl, he stepped forward. He thought to surprise her as he began to attack, but a smirk lifted the side of Arenda’s lips. She countered each of his attacks with ease before hammering against Hallik’s sword with a hit so jarring that his fingers felt numb with the impact. Before he could even blink, the wooden blade was pressed up against the side of his neck, cradling his throat stone. If it had been a real sword, she could have torn straight through him.

Besides Hallik’s panting, a few hushed whispers were the only sound. A bead of sweat trickled down his eyebrow as he blinked up at Arenda, waiting to hear her verdict.

“Next year,” she said, withdrawing the wooden sword. “Now rest. Tomorrow morning we have more training to do.”

Hallik dipped his head to her, trying not to let his frustration show. He’d fought like a child, and like a child, he’d been defeated.

Elowyn, one of Hallik’s fellow students, caught his eye. She beckoned him over with a jerk of her head, blonde hair pulled back behind her head. Her skin was tanned by long hours in the sun, and her green eyes were placid, soothing. Calmness melted across Hallik’s being.

The crowd was dispersing as he tossed his practice sword into the pile. Hands on hips, he stopped before Elowyn. “I may have lost, but I looked good doing it at least, right?” he said, trying to play off the disappointment he felt.

Elowyn raised an eyebrow. She knew him too well and that he would use humor to smother anything. “Remember that she is one of the best fighters in Avskildian history. You did alright.”

“I know,” Hallik said, brushing off his tunic. “I just wish she hadn’t used that as a point to keep me back from entering Vanalf this year.”

“It’s a silly notion anyway,” Elowyn said, shaking her head at him. “I too am eager to enter, but everything has its time for a reason.”

Hallik scoffed. She was right, of course. She almost always was—not that he was about to tell her that.

“We should rest as Arenda suggested,” Elowyn said. “I need to spar you after we run. Catch you when you’re tired so I have a chance.” She flashed him a smile before heading inside the keep of Castle Vrodr without waiting for him.

Hallik looked up to the darkening sky. At times like this, the milky film that kept their island shielded would sometimes shimmer in the fading light.

Tomorrow, he would train. And the next day, and the next. In one year, he would become a Grimnir to remember.