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Arthur Leywin
A sword could be many, many things. In my previous life, the ways and arts of swordsmanship had been cataloged for thousands of years, exemplifying the variation in the weapon. Katanas were single-edged cutting weapons, designed to cleave in a single, sure strike. Rapiers and sabers operated on similar principles, but they were quick and biting–like a swipe of a talon or the thrust of a finger. A gladius was short, brutish, and easy to use in close quarters when you needed to gut a foe.
The old hand-and-a-half sword–my greatest proficiency–could cut or thrust. It offered amazing flexibility in its ability to be used with either one or two hands, freeing my body for infinitely complex maneuvers that made me a martial god in my past life.
But all swords had something in common. Despite the innumerable cultures that pit themselves against their neighbors and drew the blood of their fellow man, when they saw a sword, they knew it to be a sword, for one reason alone.
Swords needed to be sharp. Whether that be along the edge or the point, a weapon was purposeless if it could not draw blood. The greatest of swordmasters would fail to fell a single enemy if their weapon was faulty. No matter how powerful one was, if their steel had never felt the deceptively smooth kiss of a whetstone, they would die.
And as I threw myself around the practice arena in a barely conscious haze, I wondered how I was a sword. Each thrust and swipe of Dawn’s Ballad trailed a brilliant purple arc that seemed to distort the light itself as I ran through martial forms at a previously impossible pace.
My body had become a weapon. I was a weapon, the true manifestation of the acclorite in my palm. Yet despite the new heights of strength I felt coursing through my body and how I could move faster than I ever thought possible before, I knew I was dull.
I cut upward, mirroring a feint toward an invisible foe at speeds only possible with my new, enhanced body. Yet as I sheared through the nonexistent enemy in front of me with precision and power that made wind trail in my wake, their eyes seemed to shift. Becoming glowing, severe suns. I couldn’t help but picture every attack I leveled healing over in a wash of purple and orange.
Not enough, I thought angrily, my mind a furious blur. Not fast enough. Not sharp enough.
Toren Daen knew I was a reincarnate. He knew my greatest secret; and from how he’d apparently spoken to Sylvie and… and Tess... And the way his magic functioned… It was too intimate. Too close and understanding. I must have known him in my previous life. So why couldn’t I remember him? Why couldn’t I put a finger to the name?! How could he know so much?!
I screamed in anger, the phantom vision of Toren Daen staring at me with determination as the mana around me warped and trembled. The mana around me quaked–fire, water, earth and air all echoed my lament. And something else shifted, too–on the deepest edges of my perception, I could almost see purple.
And Cecilia. The idea that Tess–my childhood friend–was being prepared to be some sort of vessel for the Legacy made my stomach twist and my teeth clench. If Agrona’s goal was to bring the girl who had committed suicide on my sword–who had thrown her life away to escape being someone’s tool–into this world as a pawn, bringing her back to the very thing she’d killed herself to escape…
And as my thoughts struck that one stumbling block, it all became incoherent again; a slurry of questions without answers and questions with answers I wished I didn’t have. And I could do nothing.
In a spike of fury, I threw my hands forward. Dawn’s Ballad shimmered and vanished in a wave of purple particles as I released the matte-black hilt, the sword phasing off somewhere as I released it from its duties. Between my fingers, a bitter wind began to condense and swirl. Ice attribute mana latched onto the twisting vortex between my palms as I forced more and more mana from my core.
It flowed easily. Far, far easier than it ever had before, the acclorite in my blood facilitating strength and power beyond anything I’d used before. I forced more and more and more from my core till I began to sweat, the condensation of howling ice wind barely contained in my palm. The heart of winter twisted and churned between my palms, nipping at my fingertips with barely contained fury.
Not enough, I thought. I need to stop Agrona; the Sovereign of Sovereigns. This pathetic display won’t do anything. It won’t even scratch the hems of his robes.
Those thoughts disrupted my concentration. The spell in my hands, enhanced by the call of the ambient mana and authority within my intent, suddenly twisted as my control wavered. It expanded abruptly, growing into a nova of howling frost that flung me backward in a wave of ice.
I flew halfway across the training room as the initial explosion made the entire floor shake and tremble, the whipping currents of wind still threatening to push further outward.
I rolled over my shoulder, settling into stance as my auburn hair escaped from its haphazard knot. A spike of fear pierced through my earlier anger as the nimbus of frost continued to gradually expand, the pressure it emitted making my teeth ache as cold creeped up my arms and slowed my movements.
If I let that continue to grow, there’s no telling what equipment it will damage in the castle, I thought, remembering Emily’s extensive work and use of these new artifacts. The lights far, far overhead flickered and dimmed as the mana raged at their sockets. I needed to halt the expanding nature of my spell.
I held my hand out to the side, summoning Dawn’s Ballad. It appeared in a flare of purple, settling into my palm as if it had been made for such. The warmth of the handle grounded me as I called mana from my core, urging it across my body. The impossibly sharp violet edge of my sword flared with heat as I imbued it with fire mana, casting a dim orange glow across the expanse.
If I could, I would’ve engaged my Dragon’s Will. But I had no Will to muster.
I grit my teeth, then forced mana across my legs, engaging Burst Step as I fired energy off in precise timings across the meat of my calves and thighs.
The world blurred as I surged forward, swinging Dawn’s Ballad in a cutting arc as I converged with the swirling vortex of wind and ice. The sword cut effortlessly through the expanding ice as my body bore the brunt of the freezing air, an angry orange streak in the churning, misty blue.
The out-of-control slurry of ice and wind dispersed violently as I screeched to a halt, my legs burning slightly. Fire, frost, and eddies of wind glimmered through the confines of the training room as an explosion rippled out, churning the ground and making the castle walls tremble. Falling ice crystals split the emberlight around me as I took a deep breath, my hands steady despite my internal turmoil. For a moment, the world was grasped by winter as snow began to fall.
I closed my eyes, the earlier anger and chaos I’d felt now simmering toward a resigned state of quiet despair. I could rage and rage and rage all I wanted, but what did it change?
I’d somehow lost Sylvia’s Will after the use of that form of mine. I didn’t know if I’d burned it away, or it had fully abandoned me, or what, but no longer could I rely on the sure warmth of Realmheart’s insight.
Even with my enhanced body–I could use Burst Step now with minimal issue, only suffering from a twinge of pain and burning in my legs that went away quickly–I didn’t know if I was stronger than I was before my clash with Toren Daen.
I held up Dawn’s Ballad, inspecting the changed surface with a note of irritation. It was truly beautiful. From the razor edge, I almost believed that I could cut the fabric of space itself.
Is this all? I thought angrily. All this legendary weapon of the asura can do?
As amazing as the reforged edge of my weapon was, what was that to the ability to stop time? To see the very structure of the world from within the cup?
My spiraling thoughts were interrupted once more as I heard a hesitant voice call out. “Can… Can I come in?” it asked, bearing a bit of awe and surprise in the tone. “The mages outside all said that you didn’t want to be disturbed, but Sylvie…”
I blinked, turning my tired eyes toward the source of the voice: the loudspeaker at the edge of the training room, where Emily usually waited with Alanis Emeria to catalog changes in training data.
Ellie? I thought, blinking in surprise. Is that what she meant when she said she’d get someone to help?
When I’d entered the training room, I’d explicitly told all the staff on hand to leave me be, no matter what they sensed within. My emotions had been festering like a sore for the past day as the revelation Sylvie had alerted me to ripped and tore at my sense of safety.
My little foxy dragon had left the room a while ago, citing a need to bring someone who could help me make sense of all this. I hadn’t asked who, hadn’t even bothered to break away from the sword forms Kordri had taught me.
I’d somewhat expected Rinia: after all, she had a lot to answer for when I next saw her. Or perhaps Sylvie would bring a sparring partner–except Lances Varay, Bairon, and Mica were currently off on a mission.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
Yet as Ellie’s uncertain voice echoed through the loudspeaker once more, I found myself utterly blindsided. “I, uh… can come back later? I guess? I mean, I know you need to train and all and stuff. Especially after your other fights, but–”
“Come on in, El,” I said with a slump of my shoulders, allowing Dawn’s Ballad to shimmer away into the aether. I felt a twinge in my core, no doubt from overexerting myself earlier. “I’m just wrapping up.”
There was a pause for a time, and then a door at the far end opened up. I watched with fond eyes as Ellie trudged in, her eyes wide as she observed the falling motes of snow around the training room. Boo loped in at her side, his large eyes staring distrustfully at the snowflakes that gradually fell.
And Sylvie rested comfortably on top of the Guardian Bear’s shoulders, conveying her emotions to me over our bond.
“Wow,” Ellie breathed as she took a step into the training room, her almond eyes seeming in a trance. “Is this what you were doing in here, brother? I felt it from all the way in my rooms, but I didn’t think it would be so pretty!”
The wonder and awe in my sister’s voice made me chuckle slightly, my shoulders slumping. I couldn’t stay angry with her hopeful stare all around. “Well, this is what I’ve been training for,” I said with a tired smile that felt a bit more genuine. Not even the slight lancing pain in my mana core from how I’d overexerted myself a moment ago could dampen it. “You know the Aurora Constellate is coming up again, and we all know Varay is too cold to make a nice show for everyone.”
Ellie opened her hand, a large snowflake falling into her palm. If I squinted, I almost thought I could see a sheen of magenta reflecting off the crystals within. “That’s not a very Lance-like thing to do,” she said absently, her eyes transfixed by the snow. “I mean, I thought you’d be out and about fighting Retainers and stuff, but you can make something this pretty, too?”
And then the comforting warmth I felt in my chest simmered away as I was reminded why I’d spent nearly twelve hours a day in this room for the past two months.
“I do have to fight Retainers, El,” I said tiredly. “And maybe I can make pretty displays of magic, but that isn’t exactly what I’m here for. Something pretty big happened to me recently, and I’m trying… trying to make sense of it,” I admitted.
“I’ve heard rumors,” Ellie said quietly, shifting nervously from foot to foot as if she were a scolded child. “That you, well, fought another Retainer a couple days ago. People in the castle don’t know a whole lot about it, but you came back alright for once.” She looked up at me hopefully. “You beat them, right? Does that mean you won’t have to train so much here?”
I turned away slightly, my chest clenching painfully as the downfall of frost finally sputtered out. I hadn’t spoken with my sister in months. The threat Toren Daen posed was too existential to keep me away from the training yard.
And if what Toren Daen had told me was true? Then I didn’t know when I could ever afford to leave the training room.
“El, I–” I shook my head, running my hand through my unbound hair as I tried to think of something to say. I was good at fighting, good at speeches, and good at military tactics. But for some reason, I always struggled where I needed the ability the most. “I don’t know. I don’t know what to do next. What I can do next.”
If Agrona was seeking Tessia to use as some sort of Vessel, did that mean she needed to be constantly watched? What could I do to halt that? Toren Daen had claimed he’d made that harder–but not impossible.
Sensing the spiraling nature of my thoughts, Sylvie spoke up again. “Ellie, you were telling me about your own training on the way down here,” she said. “With your magic and how you’ve been practicing.”
I blinked in surprise as Ellie blushed, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear nervously. “I mean, it’s not as impressive as what you’re doing,” she said, sounding embarrassed. “I mean… You created snow. But I’m just–”
“Come on, El!” I said, feeling a rush of genuine excitement banish the gloom invading my head. “You’ve been practicing your magic? What have you been training?”
My baby sister was a conjurer–meaning her mana veins were more prominent than her channels. Every single known conjurer developed an affinity toward an element as their cores progressed–but my sister hadn’t. It had been a point of confusion and uncertainty for her, and if she’d managed to work past it…
Ellie cleared her throat. “Well, you know how Helen was always teaching me how to use a bow?”
I listened with rapt excitement as my sister told me of her experiments with archery, using her own pure mana–which she had a surprising ability to influence–to create arrows fired from her bow. Ellie went deep into her testing process and how she’d gone over a hundred different ideas for how to use this. I savored the way her almond-colored eyes brightened with enthusiasm the more she spoke, her earlier reservations long forgotten.
“It’s a lot like the dragons’ abilities to wield pure mana,” my bond commented from where she was rolled up near my feet. We’d moved to the edge of the training ground as the minutes passed by, watching as the snow gradually melted. “Once I unlock the seal my mother placed on me, I should be able to use mana as my race does. Maybe I could help you then!”
Boo had stationed himself like a massive teddy bear behind Ellie, staring grumpily at the ground. Honestly, with how that bear looked, I couldn’t tell if he was actually angry or if he had ‘resting bear face.’ Ellie, in turn, looked at Sylvie with a squint as she inspected my foxy dragon. “You know, it’s still really weird that you can suddenly talk now,” she said, puffing herself up. “I mean… It’s just kind of strange, isn’t it?”
Sylvie chortled. “I’ve always been able to think clearly, Ellie,” she said. “Even way back when you first met me.”
Ellie’s eyes widened comically and I felt a brow of mine quirk upward at how quickly her face reddened. “Then that means you remember… everything?”
“Everything,” Sylvie confirmed happily.
“Everything?”
“Everything.”
Ellie opened her mouth to speak, then bit her lip, averting her eyes. I felt my mild amusement lace itself with suspicion as my baby sister looked away from my bond.
She coughed awkwardly into her fist in a way that reminded me distinctly of my father. “So you remember…”
“When you dressed me up with your doll’s clothes years ago?” Sylvie finished helpfully, her tail swishing playfully as a grin split her lupine face, “Oh, yes. I remember.”
Ellie’s face might as well have bled steam from how she buried her face in her hands, groaning in embarrassment. I gaped at my sister, aghast at what I’d just heard.
“To be fair, I was a very pretty dragon,” Sylvie said happily. “I wore that dress better than your dolls ever did.”
I finally managed to utter something: a weak wheeze of utter bafflement. Oh, god. If Windsom ever found out… If Windsom found out, he might just deliver me to Lord Indrath himself. I could almost imagine the King of Epheotus’ cold lavender eyes as they stared at me, unamused as I told him that my sister had used his granddaughter as a dress-up doll.
I swallowed. “Sylv, how about we not tell anyone that Ellie dressed you up in skirts when you were younger?”
Sylvie blinked, inspected my surface thoughts, then proceeded to break down into uncontrollable laughter. The little white fox rolled across the ground nearby as she struggled to contain the image I’d imagined in my head. “Oh, Art! I am going to tell absolutely everyone now!”
“No, please!” Ellie piped up, her face red as a tomato as she rushed forward, falling to her knees at the laughing dragon’s side. “Please, Sylvie! I’ll do anything. Just name it, I’ll do it. I’m sure you want something!”
Sylvie rolled over, perching herself smugly as she stared across at my sister. In a distinctly human way, she propped her foxy chin up with a paw as she stared at my sister. My bond opened her mouth to say something, but then she paused.
And her body flashed, glowing a deep yellow that banished all contrast. I felt our link suddenly blank out as the strange effect started, Sylvie’s entire form seeming to fuzz indistinctly.
Then she simmered back into her normal shape as I watched with wide eyes, adrenaline starting to surge in my veins. “Sylv,” I said, rushing over to the strange mass of yellow light as it gradually became fox-shaped again. “Sylv, are you alright? What’s happening?”
When next I heard my bond’s voice, it was over our mental tether, sounding afraid, excited, and unsure all at once. “Arthur, I need… need Uto’s horn! It’s the seal!”
It took a moment for me to comprehend exactly what my bond meant. And when it did, my eyes widened in surprise. The seal that Sylvia had placed on her daughter–it was breaking away now. I needed to get her to the horn to help ease the process.
I scooped up my dragon, feeling another painful twinge from my own mana core. I must have extended myself more than I thought, I thought with a wince as I stood quickly, Sylvie glowing yellow in my arms. “Ellie, I gotta go!” I said quickly, scrambling toward the exit. “Emergency! I’ll talk later, I promise!” I shouted as I stumbled toward the door of the training room.
“Wait, wait!” Ellie said, running after me as I moved. “Is Sylvie okay? What’s wrong with her?” she asked worriedly.
I grit my teeth as my own damn core sent tendrils of fire across my body, causing me to wince. “Foxes need time to grow into majestic dragons,” I said through gritted teeth. “Don’t worry, we’ve been expecting this for a while! But I need to be alone with her to ensure nothing goes wrong!”
Before I could fully make it past my sister, she grabbed onto my arm with a surprisingly firm grip. I turned, inspecting her with adrenalized eyes. “You promise you’ll talk to me later?” she asked, sounding almost pleading. “I mean, mom and dad aren’t here, and there’s nobody left in the castle my age. I just… I just wanna talk with my brother sometimes.”
I felt my heart melt just a little at my baby sister’s request. I ruffled her head with a hand, mussing her neat hair and causing her to squawk in outrage. “I promise, El,” I said. “Now I got to go,” I said quickly, before running down the corridors with mana-enhanced steps.
With the strength of my new physique, I was less than a blur as the wind itself carried me through the massive hallways of Dicathen’s flying castle. I passed more than a few flustered servants and guards as I beelined for my rooms, racing against time as Sylvie’s body continued to shift.
Within my mind, her thoughts had become indistinct and watery, like sand sifting through a sieve. I felt no small measure of worry as I tried to plan for whatever might be happening. We knew her seal was close to breaking, but–
Another lurch in my mana core made me miss a step in my run, causing me to tumble and fall. My vision flashed red with pain as the nexus of my power seared uncomfortably. I barely had the wherewithal to twist myself as I hurtled, shifting so my back smashed into an oncoming wall instead of my bond.
The breath left my lungs as I collapsed to my knees, the wall surprisingly still intact despite the fact I’d hit it with the speed of a moving car. That said something about the ancient mages’ construction abilities.
Something’s wrong with my core, I thought with a groan as I clutched one hand to my sternum. This… This isn’t from overuse. This is something else.
I blearily pulled myself to my feet, wavering there for a moment as I held Sylvie close. I… I needed to get her to my rooms. Whatever was wrong with my core could come after I tended to her. After I….
I stumbled forward, noting the set of doors near me. A set of massive doors, each large enough to fit an asura themself, stretched high in front of me. My core lurched again: a grasping, pulling pain that made it hard to think.
I groaned, then pushed on the doors. They shifted with surprising ease, leaving me to almost trip as they swung inward. I blinked, my vision hazy and doubling as I inspected where I found myself.
The main meeting room of the Triunion Council, I barely recognized. Where they sentenced me, so long ago. Before Windsom’s intervention.
I stumbled forward. Past those seats there were doors to the private chambers of the Lances. I just needed to—
I fell to my knees before the arrayed table, each looming seat seeming to judge me as I failed to take another step. Come on, Arthur! I chastised myself with gritted teeth as my consciousness faded in and out. You need to… need to move! Don’t let this stop you! You can…
The last thought I had as I finally succumbed to whatever force gripped my core was that the room seemed far too large for my crumpling body.