The good news, as it turned out, was that being Single-Minded was far from a fatal flaw. One just had to know how to exploit it. In Alarion’s case, the answer turned out to be something very, very simple. Give him a challenge.
Fortunately, ZEKE had just the exercise in mind.
If only his pupil would show his face.
“Is he always this late?” ZEKE asked.
“He is not an early riser, given the choice.” Elena admitted, looking up at her one time mentor from her seat on the courtyard bench. The expression on her face suggested Alarion would not be given the choice much longer if this behavior continued. “Though I suspect some of this might be unrelated. You did work him rather hard yesterday.”
That much was true. Alarion had woken up that morning with a pair of new conditions on his status.
[Sleep Deprived – Minor] -- 5% malus to all attributes for two hours.
[Muscle Fatigue – Minor] -- 10% malus to maximum stamina for twenty-four hours.
The cause of the former was obvious, he had slept terribly. The bed was too soft and he was too energized from the day’s adventure and activities to properly settle until well after midnight. The latter was the result of Alarion fully depleting and restoring his stamina pool five times in a single day.
Neither was what had kept him.
“Where are my clothes?” Alarion said without preamble, mere moments after walking into the courtyard.
Weeks earlier, Elena had incinerated the filthy garments Alarion had been found wearing. They’d given him temporary clothing during his time in custody, and her staff had procured him some local Ashadi attire that had served him well enough during their travels. But now that they'd arrived, such things would no longer do. Suspecting it would be an issue, she’d ordered one of the maids to clear his room while he bathed and replace his wardrobe with proper attire.
Which, of course, meant proper Vitrian attire.
The outfit she’d chosen was not especially expensive. A vest of comfortable white linen tailored to his lithe frame held together down the center with four ties, it had a high collar and trailed off to triangular points that hung just below his belt. His pants were a traditional, loose fitting grey designed for comfort and ease of movement while retaining a solid sense of style. Both garments were gently embroidered along the hems and seams with a repeating pattern of teal and purple.
“You look splendid, Alarion.” Elena said, pointedly ignoring his question.
“Mm.” Alarion replied noncommittally, reading her expression briefly before he added. “Burned?”
Elena steadily met his gaze. “You’d go looking if I hadn’t.”
Alarion regarded her a moment longer, then turned his attention to ZEKE without another word on the matter. “I’m ready. Will she be observing?”
“She will be assisting.” Elena said with a touch of pique in her voice.
“First, however-” ZEKE interjected, for fear of how Alarion might reply. “-We need to determine your focus. Do you know anything about the Vitrian Forms?”
Alarion’s expression was positively blank as he shook his head.
“I thought as much.” ZEKE acknowledged. “In short, Vitrians recognize eleven primary styles of melee combat and each of those-”
“Has seven forms?” Alarion cut in.
“Which together are known as a Rite." ZEKE finished before giving the boy a withering look. "I thought you said you didn’t know anything about them?”
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“I can count.” Alarion replied. “Seventy-Seven houses, Seventy-Seven forms. Makes sense.”
On her bench nearby, Elena chuckled, drawing a stern glance from ZEKE as the metal man replied. “Be that as it may-”
“Why only melee?” Alarion interjected yet again. “I already have mastery in throwing weapons. Or, well, I have a skill that says I do. And I think a bow could be useful.”
Again Elena laughed. After weeks on the road alongside the inquisitive youth, it was refreshing to see someone else have to endure one of his rare outspoken moments.
“If you’d allow me to finish.” ZEKE said sternly. The metal man could not scowl, but it was clear he wanted to, his eyes glowing a dimmer green than usual as he stared down at the child. “Vitrians recognize eleven primary styles of melee combat. In addition any Vitrian of sufficient aptitude is expected to adopt, and become proficient in, one magic wielding class. As such, the Numbered Houses only see the benefit of the bow and the firearm in certain, limited scopes. As for throwing weapons, they are a feature in many of the existing forms as a supplemental weapon.”
“No archer or gunslinger holds a candle to the versatility of a well-trained Vitrian, skilled in both blade and spell.” Elena finished, as though she had heard ZEKE’s explanation enough times to commit it to memory.
“I’m going to learn magic?” Alarion asked with equal parts wonder and skepticism.
“Eventually.” ZEKE agreed. “You are not a true Vitrian, but at Mistress Elena’s request you will be trained as one. However, in the House of Hunger, the body is trained before the mind.”
Alarion nodded. “Where do we start?”
“With your choice of weapon.” ZEKE explained, gesturing toward the weapon racks that ringed the courtyard as Alarion in turn paced toward them. “Each of the eleven primary styles has a focus on specific attributes and complimentary weapons. The first style, known as-”
“This one.” Alarion declared.
Elena and ZEKE exchanged a quick, skeptical look.
The weapon that he had chosen was known as an Imperial Greatsword. Distinct from their lesser cousins, these awakened-only weapons varied from five to seven feet in length and were often up to a foot in width, though this one was on the slightly smaller side. Metallic purple steel made up the fabric wrapped hilt, V-shaped guard and two inches of the dual edges that ran down to a thrusting point at the weapon’s tip. Between those edges, the interior of the blade was composed of a curious dark red metal that glowed with inner light around a diamond shaped Vitrian emblem set in just above the guard.
“Perhaps something more your size.” ZEKE suggested.
Alarion grunted with effort as he swung the sword overhead, its edge cutting a foot long tear in the courtyard’s stone floor as he failed to arrest its momentum.
“I like this one, though.”
Again Elena and ZEKE exchanged glances. This time, it was her turn to argue. “I think that what Ezekial is saying is that the weapon isn’t suited to you. Your current stats and build are more suited to something like dual wielding daggers where you can take advantage of your agility.”
“So then I just need to build up my strength.” Alarion agreed, missing her point entirely. Indeed, the only thing he appeared to take away from her comment was the idea of dual wielding, judging by how he attempted, and promptly failed, to lift the Greatsword with a single hand.
“How much do you know about your stats, Alarion?” ZEKE asked.
“Some.” The youth readily admitted as he continued to swing the oversized weapon through its paces. “The Ordinate tried to explain them to me during our language lessons.”
“Tried?” ZEKE asked with dismay.
“I wasn’t really listening.” Alarion said as the weapon swung through a deep reverse-vertical cut that nearly had it fly free from his hands.
“Are you listening now?” ZEKE inquired, pointedly.
“Some.” Alarion replied.
ZEKE watched the boy swing the massive weapon around for several more seconds, like a child with their first wooden stick. Then, after getting a feel for his haphazard swings, ZEKE stepped into the gap, catching the edge overhead in one hand as it plummeted towards him. “And now?”
Alarion had known that there was a gap in strength between them. ZEKE hadn’t been shy on showing the difference in power during their sparring session the previous evening. But Alarion had put considerable power into that swing, and the machine man had stopped it as effortlessly as if he were catching a thrown pillow.
“Mm.” Alarion nodded twice, the second time for emphasis.
“Then grab a seat, this may take us a while.”
Alarion promptly sat down on the ground in the middle of the courtyard, crossing his legs beneath him as he looked up dutifully. If the Steelborn could have rolled its eyes, it would have.
Instead its hands began to work through a series of arcane gestures. Ones that looked… surprisingly familiar to Alarion. He’d seen them thrice before. The first time when he’d been taken in by Elena, the second when he’d left Ashad-Vitri and the third when he’d boarded the ironclad ship for the last leg of their journey. Though these ones continued quite a bit longer, as did the chanting that culminated in two words:
“Display Status.”
Before Alarion could wonder too much at the difference, a blue status window appeared floating in the air next to ZEKE. This window was similar to the one Alarion could call up at will, but was less transparent, as though it were more real than his own. It did not move with Alarion’s gaze, and the youth quickly realized that he was not the only one who could see it.
“Now then, let us see if we can clear up some of the gaps in your education.” ZEKE said, shooting a sidelong glance at Elena who returned it with a sickeningly sweet smile. “By the end I am sure you’ll come around to our way of thinking."