Chapter 40 - Moonlight

Forest Outside Magrath, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein Year 995

Amara strolled over to where Levent was and plopped down on the grass beside him while Isolde and Glenn discussed the rules of the spar. Levent turned and watched her with a wary frown.

“What exactly are you planning?”

Amara raised an eyebrow. “What’re you talking about? I’m just trying to learn a skill.”

“You didn’t have to suggest a spar specifically.”

She smiled. “Yeah, well, I thought it’d be fun to watch. Glenn’s really strong, right? And Isolde’s good too.” Her eyes landed on the center of the clearing, illuminated by the silver moonlight. She leaned back casually on her arms, but her eyes remained focused on the two figures, assessing.

Levent didn’t look like he believed her, but before he could question her further, Glenn and Isolde turned in their direction, and Amara leaned a little closer.

“We’re sparring until first hit,” Isolde explained calmly. “No magic is allowed except for reductive energy.” She nodded at Glenn at that. Amara was a little disappointed, but she’d also already suspected that Isolde wouldn’t agree to a spar with full magic use, especially not when they only had low quality ore with very few uses available.

“I’ll try to make it fairly obvious when I’m using magic,” Glenn said. “If it helps, my aura is dark green.” A gloved hand landed on the sword at his hip, and he unsheathed it. The blade shone brightly, its surface smooth and polished. The hilt itself was rather plain compared to some of the weapons she’d seen the other guards with, but Amara did note a wine colored ore embedded just below the crossguard.

Glenn nodded at Isolde, and the two strode to opposite sides of the clearing, leaving a field of waving grasses between them. They raised their weapons and got in ready stances. Amara scooted forward a little, and she could feel Levent watching just as closely at the side.

The two fighters stared at each other for a moment, the cool perceptiveness in their eyes betraying their calm postures. For a moment neither one moved, simply taking their opponent in. And then, as a breeze blew past and the leaves rustled around them, both fighters sprang into motion.

Isolde dashed forward with deceptive speed, lunging and thrusting the spear at her opponent. Glenn brought his blade up to block the attack, the sound of metal ringing across the clearing. Isolde didn’t miss a beat. She yanked her spear back and swung it around to slam the shaft into the man. Glenn deflected the blow, taking a step back and straightening, blinking a few times in surprise.

“You’re quite good,” he commented.

Isolde smiled. “Thank you,” she said. Her eyes sharpened, and she lunged forward again.

Amara watched intently as the two fighters clashed, their strikes becoming progressively faster and more assured the longer they sparred and the more used they grew to their opponent’s patterns. Isolde moved fast and fluidly, utilizing the greater range of her spear to barrage the man with attacks. Glenn, meanwhile, took a more defensive approach, only moving as much as needed.

At a glance, it looked like a fairly even match, but Amara noted that Glenn didn’t seem to be particularly struggling to block or dodge attacks. Based on the way Isolde’s eyes narrowed, it seemed like she’d noticed it too.

She pulled back, putting some distance between them again. For a few moments, neither one moved, simply watching each other, their weapons raised as the wind blew the grasses carpeting the ground beneath them. The rippling of the moon had steadied compared to earlier in the night, and the silver light passed in slow waves across the clearing.

Isolde dug the heel of her foot deeper into the ground, twisting it around a few times as though testing its grip. And then, as the next wave of light passed through, she surged forward.

The next strike came nearly twice as fast as her previous ones, the tip of her spear aimed directly at the man’s chest. Glenn’s eyes widened slightly as he dodged at the last second. Isolde, maintaining her momentum, took a precise step forward and swung again with the same sharp force. This time Glenn blocked it with his sword, and the sound echoed throughout the clearing.

Amara leaned forward, watching intently as the two continued sparring. Their movements were much faster now, fast enough that she could barely keep up with the flurry of motion. Silver light bounced off their weapons, but neither one flinched or paused. She’d never seen Isolde look so focused before.

Beside her, Amara heard a shifting sound and glanced over to see Levent watching the spar just as closely, his fists clenched at his sides.

“What the hell is wrong with your friend?” he hissed. “Those’re killing blows.”

Amara’s eyebrows rose. Another loud clang interrupted her thoughts, and she looked back and found Glenn and Isolde’s weapons locked in a standstill. She could see the way their blades shook from exertion even from a distance as they both struggled to hold their ground. Before one of them could press further, however, Isolde jumped back and retaliated with another strike. Now that she focused, Amara could see what Levent had been talking about. Compared to Isolde’s earlier swings, these new ones were aimed much more precisely.

A screeching sound made Amara cringe. As their weapons met again, Isolde slid her spear forward, its metal shaft running along the edge of the sword’s blade. Sparks flew as she directed the tip of the weapon towards Glenn, taking advantage of the opening now that his other hand was occupied.

Time seemed to slow as the spear drew closer and closer. Amara was vaguely aware of Levent jumping to his feet beside her, but all her attention was focused on the gleaming metal.

At the last second before the blade reached him, Glenn raised his other hand, and a deep green glow enveloped the weapon. Amara watched with bated breath as the tip of the spear approached his gloved palms, waiting for a telltale spray of red. But there was nothing.

Instead, the spear only lightly grazed his palm, barely even managing to tear the fabric of his gloves as all of the energy behind the strike was pulled away. The magic aura surrounding him rippled slightly with the motion, Amara noticed, in a way that reminded her of the moon’s undulations. But just as she focused closer on it, the glow vanished, leaving just the two fighters standing alone in the empty clearing.

For a second no one moved nor spoke, the air heavy and still. And then Isolde lowered her spear and stepped back, brushing her dark hair out of her face and smiling calmly, and the spell was broken.

She bowed. “That was a good match,” she said, voice light and serene. “Thank you for your time.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Amara heard Levent exhale beside her. The man slumped back down to the grass, rubbing his forehead. Amara’s eyes darted over to him. Maybe she’d imagined it, but she could’ve sworn his shoulders had tensed when the magic had glowed.

Glenn simply nodded. He didn’t look tired at all, Amara realized. Had he noticed the change in Isolde’s attack pattern? He certainly gave no indication of it, simply bowing as well with a small smile.

“Thank you as well,” he said, and his voice sounded perfectly sincere. The man straightened again and he sheathed his sword. He turned to Amara with a nod. “I hope that was helpful to you.”

She blinked a few times, remembering the original purpose for the spar. The strange patterns in Glenn’s aura as he’d used his magic flashed in her mind. Her eyes narrowed, and her gaze wandered over to the back of her gloved hands. Her own aura had never looked like that during any of her previous attempts. She tried to remember the Aberration attack in the square and if the guards and watchmen’s auras had displayed a similar rippling when they’d moved against the rank D’s magic.

“Yeah,” she said slowly, “I think it was.” She still had to figure out how to replicate the effect with her own aura, but at the very least, it confirmed to her that it was more than a simple “pulling.”

Glenn smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” He gestured at one of the trees standing at the edge of the clearing. “There isn’t much proper equipment here, unfortunately, but would you like to attempt using reduction again?”

Amara opened her mouth to say yes, but caught herself. If she messed up and did another basic blast, her unusual output would become very obvious. Maybe she could get away with it around someone less knowledgeable about magic, but Glenn would definitely know what every output level should look like and be able to see the discrepancies in her own.

Before she could further weigh the pros and cons of agreeing, however, two different voices interrupted her thoughts.

“It’s getting rather la—”

“We need to head ba—”

Isolde and Levent paused, both of them turning to face the other. Isolde raised an eyebrow. Levent simply looked away, jaw snapping shut and shoulders stiff.

Isolde kept talking as though no interruption had occurred.

“It’s getting rather late,” she said to Glenn. “I believe it may be better to continue this tomorrow, assuming you’re willing to continue helping, of course.”

“Oh, right.” The guard looked embarrassed. “Forgive me, I didn’t realize how much time had passed. I’d be happy to come again tomorrow.” He turned to Amara and bowed. She watched the movement with a raised eyebrow. No matter how many times she saw it, she still found it amusing to see a noble bow so much to commoners.

“I’m afraid not much was accomplished tonight,” Glenn continued apologetically. “I will endeavor to be more cognizant of time tomorrow.”

Amara chuckled, waving the concern away. “It’s fine. You’re the one doing me a favor,” she joked. She turned to Levent with a grin. He was still facing away from them. “See you tomorrow?” she questioned.

His eyes darted briefly over towards Isolde, then Glenn, then back at her. He seemed to contemplate something, frowning a little in thought, but finally, he nodded, the movement a bit stiff.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “See you tomorrow.”

—

Isolde kept her serene smile on as they watched the two exit the clearing, their backs soon disappearing into the shadows of the forest. It remained present as they made their way back to the inn, crossing the quiet streets while the moonlight continued to ripple across the stone road.

Despite her expression remaining lax, Amara noted that the woman’s shoulders seemed a little more tense than usual. It became increasingly more obvious the closer they got to the inn, and by the time they finally reached their room, the way Isolde slammed the door was all the confirmation she needed.

Amara’s eyes followed Isolde’s movements as she brushed through her hair. The woman had never removed the sheet from the mirror since that first day, keeping it covered the whole time, and Amara hadn’t bothered to take it off either, so Isolde simply brushed through her hair without looking at any reflection. Usually she was rather meticulous about it, her hands moving in steady, practiced motions, but at the moment she tugged a little harder than usual.

Amara leaned back against the headboard of her bed, her legs criss crossed over the blankets.

“Someone’s in a bad mood.”

“Not at all.” Isolde set the brush down on the table with a loud clack and reached for a fine-tooth comb for a second pass now that the bigger tangles were gone. She didn’t turn around, facing away from Amara, who kept staring at her.

A grin spread across Amara’s face, and she leaned forward, the mattress bouncing a little with the movement.

“Are you mad you lost the spar?”

Isolde’s movements stilled for a moment before she continued. Her lack of a response was answer enough, and Amara laughed in surprise.

“I didn’t think you’d be a sore loser,” she said with a snort.

Isolde still didn’t turn around, and soon her laughter died down to an amused chuckle.

“To be fair, you did say he was around a Rose’s level or something, right? And the spar looked pretty close to me, so that’s saying something about your skill.”

“He isn’t.”

Isolde set the comb down, finally turning around with a serious expression that made Amara pause. “Had he continued in the Academy and joined the Roses, he likely would be one of their best fighters, but without that additional training, he still hasn’t quite reached their level.”

The woman rose from her chair and stepped over to the curtains, pulling them shut and blocking out the silver moonlight. Now that the window was covered, it left just the crackling torches to light up the space. She sat back down on her own bed.

“Furthermore, I wouldn’t have called that a ‘close fight.’ He was very clearly holding back.”

Amara thought back to the spar. Glenn had taken a defensive approach the whole match, and while to some extent that was probably part of his preferred method of fighting, it was also true that, had he made more offensive strikes, the spar would likely have ended much faster.

“Well,” Amara said slowly, “I’m not gonna argue with that.”

Isolde smiled. “You would be foolish if you did.”

Amara snorted and took a second to adjust her position, settling a little deeper into the mattress. “Seriously though, it’s pretty obvious you’re good. And Glenn might not be a Rose, but he’s no slouch either. Losing’s not really a big deal, especially not for a spar like that.” Amara knew for a fact that she wouldn’t have lasted more than five seconds if she’d gone against the guard.

“I’m well aware,” Isolde said simply. “I can acknowledge the reality of the situation and still be disappointed.”

Amara was quiet at that. She stared at the woman. Her shoulders had relaxed again, and she looked perfectly at ease seated at the edge of the bed, the image of poise. Despite the casual atmosphere, her icy blue eyes remained as sharp and focused as ever.

“You take getting stronger really seriously,” she finally said.

Isolde just laughed.

“Don’t we all?”

—

Later that evening, Amara stayed awake long after Isolde fell asleep, staring at the scars running down her arms and the blank skin on the back of her hands where her markings would appear. She reached her hand up towards the ceiling, turning it every which way until she could no longer keep her eyes open. She lowered her arm again and slumped back into the bed as sleep finally overtook her.

She didn’t dream of anything that night.