“What is your specialty, Master Ivan?” I asked the burly man.
“I am an Enhancer,” he said shortly. “Also a Generator.”
“I assume Enhancer means you are good at reinforcing your offense and defense?”
He nodded curtly but didn’t seem irritated by the questions. “Generator means I have a lot of aura I make more than most.”
“That sounds handy,” I said thoughtfully. “Especially combined with your Enhancer specialty and your skill in combat.”
He nodded but offered a correction. “They do not often work together. Extra aura is harder to control. Most Generators end up as supporters, feeding their excess aura to others to help them fight.”
“Hmm,” I said slowly, thinking it through. “Still, that sounds like a deadly combo.”
“It is,” he nodded. “I wish I was a Martial, but I am not.”
“What is a Martial?” I asked instantly, my curiosity coming back to the forefront.
He shook his head. “Enough questions. We start training.”
“Okay,” I said, disappointed. I couldn’t help but think of him as unnecessarily stern, especially after Selena, who was open and answered my questions easily.
Ivan had me take a basic defensive stance, then a basic offensive stance. He studied each, made small corrections then nodded in acceptance. He had me bolster my defense, and then my offense, striking a mannequin he’d dragged into the training room. I was still tired and sore after the previous day’s efforts with Master Selena, but I kept my complaints to myself and tried to impress my new teacher.
It started to look like Ivan only intended to continue teaching me the basics at first, but I quickly discarded the opinion. “I am going to teach you endurance.”
“Endurance?” I asked, forgetting his ban on questions. “How do you mean?”
“The more you attack, the more you defend, the more aura you use,” he pointed out. I nodded at the obvious statement. “But the more you use aura, the more efficient you become.”
I tilted my head, not understanding, and he let out a long sigh. He took up a basic defensive stance and told me to hit him. So I did. At least, I tried to. It felt like my foot slammed against solid air, an incredible six inches from his body. He used even less aura than I did when blocking, yet he stopped me more effectively. I took a step back, my mouth hanging open, finally understanding.
“So it’s like muscles,” I said. “The more you use them, the stronger they get.”
He nodded, finally seeming pleased that I understood. “Yes. Now, defense.”
He had me hold my defensive stance for as long as I possibly could. He mostly left me alone, though every few minutes he would swing a blow at me. Despite my defenses being raised, each block swayed me. Holding my aura in place was harder than I thought it would be. And each time he hit me, more of my aura was used up in the process. On the third hit, he broke through my defense and knocked me flat. Even Marisha hadn’t managed that.
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“Your aura is much stronger than Marisha’s,” I panted, letting my head fall to the floor. “I could hold up against her much longer.”
His head entered my field of vision. “I used no aura.”
“What?” I yelped, sure I’d misheard him. “Not at all?”
He smirked at me. “Nope. Your defense is still weak. Only my fist is needed. When you can hold your defense for ten minutes like this, I will start using aura. Then, before I claim you ready, you must be able to fully block one punch from me after holding your defense for one hour.”
“A whole hour?” I said, mortified. “I can’t do that!”
“If you cannot do that after a whole month of this,” he said, shaking his head. “Then you will fail, and Master Mikel will send no apprentice.”
I shook my head as well. It felt like I was already in the Crucible. Then he offered me a hand, and I accepted, letting him pull me to my feet. I felt a curiously warm sensation from his hand, then felt more hot wind rushing into my body until I was reinvigorated.
“Begin again,” he said. “Until you are ready.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall, realizing I’d only lasted six minutes. Gritting my teeth, I brought my aura up to shroud my body once more. It was some comfort to notice that the action came a little easier to me. It also came up faster, and both facts comforted me quite a bit. I found it easier to relax keep up the defensive shroud now. That was, until he struck me again.
Try as hard as I could to hold my defenses up, it only took him four hits. You might think “hey, that’s an improvement, cuz he only took you down in three hits before, right?” Well, that’s a dumb thing to say. You know what’s better than withstanding three hits? Withstanding all the hits, and getting so good that he could stop hitting me. It hurt. A lot.
Like Master Selena, Master Ivan kept the training going until nighttime when he finally told me to stop. Exhausted, sore, and once again drenched in sweat, I stumbled out of the training room and to the elevator while Master Ivan returned the training mannequin to wherever he’d found it. I leaned on the wall of the elevator’s interior as it carried me to the lobby, and it was on weak legs that I entered the entry area.
“Good evening, Master Silas,” Meredith’s voice said to the right. I mustered up what energy still remained to me and gave a tired wave.
“It’s evening for sure, Meredith,” I said tiredly. “But I doubt I could call it good.”
She smiled in sympathy. “No, I don’t think you could. You’re being trained by some of the toughest masters in the Reaper Clan, after all.”
“Is their reputation that well-founded?” I said, using her desk as support to stay standing. “I haven’t heard many people talking about them.”
“You haven’t talked to many people besides them,” Meredith pointed out, which was a fair point. “Worry not. I have seen many go through that training, and they all come out much stronger for it.”
“If you say so,” I said, suppressing a yawn. “Would you be so kind as to call me a ride home?”
“Certainly, Apprentice Silas,” she said, pressing some buttons on her keyboard. “A driver will be outside to take you home in minutes.”
I gave her a quiet word of thanks and headed for the door in my dead man’s shamble. Despite the lateness of the hour, there were still some Reapers entering and exiting, and we exchanged the customary nods. They looked at me in some concern as I fumbled my exit, but seemed to accept it without comment. Or at least they held their comments to themselves until I’d left.
I was met on the sidewalk by a quiet bearded man in a dark suit bearing the logo of the Nook Inn, a couple of flowers in a vase next to an open book. He took hold of my arm as soon as he saw me stumbling, and efficiently put me into the car, and we were off. I enjoyed a brief power nap in the car on the way home, then staggered inside and onto my soft bed with nothing more than a mumbled greeting and farewell to my mother and sister. I wasn’t even aware of their looks of concern. Tired as I was, I fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow.