Victory

[Glittering Thrust]

ACTIVATED

She beats the blast away without hesitation.

“Slow.”

I brace myself as her blade slices through the still air, barely nicking my nose.

[Blink]

From behind, I strike at her kneepits with a [Swallow Swipe] and, of course, she merely leaps backwards over it.

“Predictable.”

I get a liberal bonk as the flat side of her sword comes down on my cranium.

But I don’t fall. I just shake it off and meet her next attack head on.

“Are you going easy on me, Myra?”

She grins as she positions herself for a feint to my left.

Now!

My sword snaps to the left and gets her just below her shoulder pauldron. When she staggers back, this time, it’s me that’s smiling.

“Not half bad,” she admits, checking her armor for damage. “You’ve learned to read my movements.”

“When I’m not getting lost in your eyes.”

The comment does nothing to phase her, and she’s back upon me before I can even finish laughing, coming down with a vertical slash followed up by a spin and a swipe that sends me reeling back. Even though I’ve blocked her attack, I can still feel its sting.

“But I have learned how you fight too, my little apprentice,” she chuckles. “Your perverted dog-charms are useless against me now. My mind is as armored as my body.”

I grin despite the fact that every little muscle beneath my mass of hair and flesh is aching beyond belief. The last week’s been intense. Nothing but non-stop training with only a few sweet breaks here and there. I don’t know what it is. But since we came back from our little excursion outside the walls, it’s felt like Myra’s been enjoying this just as much as I am.

And, hey, I can’t argue with the results:

[Core Skills]

[Blink] LVL 5

Activation Distance: 15ft

Cooldown: 15 secs

[Dig] LVL 5

Cooldown: 15 secs

Duration: 80 secs

[Repulsive Bark] LVL 4

Effective Range: 35ft

Cooldown: 5 hrs

[Tailcopter] LVL 6

Duration: 2 mins

Cooldown: 25 secs

[Weapon Arts (BLADED)]

[Slot 1]

[Glimmering Thrust LVL 6]

Range: 55ft

Cooldown: 10 secs

[Slot 2]

[Swallow Strike, LVL 5]

Range: 20ft

Area of effect: 4 creatures (10 ft arc)

Cooldown: 10 secs

Not too shabby for a floofy Corgi Lightborn, huh? The only thing I haven’t been working on are my [Softpaws] but then, Myra isn’t exactly built for stealth, and all the cover of night’s been doing for me is lulling me to a soft, well-deserved, jam-coated sleep. Still though, I probably shouldn’t neglect one skill just because it isn’t combat ready. As Myra’s always said: a warrior needs to be versatile, right?

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As for my [Consume]skill…I sure could use some hardcore training for that…

A flash of a silver blade wakes me up from my thoughts and a quick [Dig] takes me six feet under Myra. She looks over the lip of my hole and aims her sword, readying another thrust of light.

And that’s when I’ve got her.

[Blink]

I’m behind her, and a gentle push into the hole is all that’s needed here.

I ready up a [Repulsive Bark] and, just as my teeth flare up, a wave of sapphire energy lashes out at me.

[Tailcopter]

I bring my legs up in time to avoid the arc of light launched from her smoking blade. She regains her footing while I look at the arc continue on to tear apart a tree beside the training meadow.

“Did…did you just Swallow Swipe me?”

She pants, bringing up her sword in a defensive stance.

“Sometimes even a Master can learn a thing or two from their student.”

I gently let myself drop to the ground as we face eachother again. Both still standing. Both still dripping with sweat.

An ethereal breeze ruffles the flowers between us.

“My sword remains firmly in my grip,” Myra says. “Do you yield for the day?”

I have to laugh at this whole situation. The whole time I’ve been studying her - looking for weaknesses, probing all her lapses in footing and trying to exploit even the slightest openings she gives me - she’s been studying me, too.

She’s looking at me as though I’m a challenge she’s been looking for her entire life. It’s scary, in a way.

But it’s also hella exciting.

Maybe I really have become a perverted dog…

“I’m not gonna leave here till that sword leaves your hand,” I tell her.

She spreads her feet, angles her blade at me, and hunches her shoulders.

“Give it your best shot.”

My cooldowns should be all good, except my Tailcopter. She knows that. She knows that because I can see her inch towards me, second by second.

I angle my sword wide, and feel it glimmer with the sapphire gleam of the Swallow Strike.

Then she lunges.

“Too slow!”

She cleaves my sword with a swift blow that should have knocked it clean from my loose grip. Should have knocked it clean through the air and broken a couple of my teeth. By all measures of logic, and gravity, and every other invisible force that dominates this world, I should be on my back, disarmed once more.

But my sword doesn’t move an inch.

I use the momentum from her strike to push back against her, see her losing her footing, and, trying to keep calm and present, glide my blade towards the hilt of her sword.

[Glimmering Thrust]

The flash of light that blooms as my sword connects with the hilt of her own blinds me. I feel myself thrown back across the meadow, skidding through poses and ending up face down with my nose in the dirt. Then, of course, I hear my sword plant itself beside me.

“Ugh,” I groan, finally relaxing into the warm embrace of the earth. “Alright. Attempt #24 = failure. What else is ne-“

My voice catches as I rise up and see Myra staring at the palm of her smoking hand.

Her empty hand.

We both focus on her silver gauntlet to make sure reality wasn’t deceiving us. Then, slowly, our eyes glide towards her fallen sword sitting in an ashen crater a few meters to her right.

“You feigned defeat and took me off guard,” she says, looking after her blade nonchalantly.

I don’t even smile. “Hey…a warrior needs to use everything to their advantage…right? Someone clever told me that, one time.”

When our eyes finally meet, there’s no anger in her eyes. There’s not even surprise.

There might even be…pride?

My tail’s wagging up a storm at my back. And I’m not even trying a [Tailcopter].

She approaches me gradually, totally ignoring her sword and coming to stand over me.

“I – look,” I say, trying to calm my tail down. “This is just – y’know – I’m excited, right? I did it, right? I – look – it just does that sometimes. Don’t think it’s weird.”

She bends down and, through my sudden embarrassment, I see that she’s genuinely smiling.

This time, when her hand comes down to rest on my head, its purpose is to pat. Not to bonk.

I gotta admit: a Myra pat feels good.

“You are a warrior, Raziel the Loafblade,” she says with a grin. “But I suppose you are still a dog, too.”

…

Tonight, I know something’s up.

After training Myra starts acting strangely. I’m practically over the moon about my victory, and she’s barely even reacting. She dodges my every question. She’s even less prone to small talk as usual (and I thought we’d made some real progress on that front). Even when we get back home, Mia is weirdly reticent to offer a little sweet thing for her favorite dog.

The biggest surprise though? It’s good old Swifty.

His reaction when I come home:

“HELLO, LITTLE BROTHER! WELCOME TO THIS PERFECTLY NORMAL HOUSE ON THIS PERFECTLY NORMAL DAY. HOW WAS YOUR NORMAL TRAINING SESSION THIS AFTERNOON?”

I stare at him, letting my eyes wonder off to see that the other two are avoiding my gaze completely.

Then I feel him tugging on my paw.

“Hey! Swift – what’s got-“

“I BELIEVE YOU SHOULD RETIRE EARLY TONIGHT!” he practically screams. “YOUR TRAINING HAS CLEARLY LEFT YOU MOST DEBILITATED!”

“Oh, oh – yes!” Mia chimes in, clearly packing something away in the corner of her little stove. “Oh, you look absolutely awful! You need bedrest. Isn’t that right, Sis?”

I look towards Myra for some glimpse of sanity in this place.

All I find are shifty eyes and blushing cheeks.

“Er…yes,” she coughs. “Yes. It has been a most tiring day for the Lightborn. I hereby proclaim that you may take the rest of the day off to recover. In your room. Now.”

Then I’m harried upstairs, put to bed, and left there before I can even take a single calming sniff at my butt.

I’m alone in the dark. With my lovely, lovely Lightborny thoughts.

Something’s happening…

Something sinister.

Ok. Look. You’ve been down this road before. You know Myra now. You know she’s nothing like her old Master. She’s only about one tenth as psychopathic, just to take one example.

Swifty though? This is weird for him. One minute he’s talking about some grand Elvish conspiracy against us, the next minute he’s with them downstairs, telling me to lock up and shut up. Doesn’t even come to see me.

Not that I’m insulted or anything. Just – y’know – the guy’s pretty much my only friend.

I roll over on my side and yawn as loudly and obnoxiously as I can. Maybe that’ll clue them in that I’m on to whatever game they’re playing.

Maybe it’s my time to leave? That’s the thought that haunts me the most in the dark. Now that I’ve mastered the sword technique I needed to, now that I’ve proven myself, it’s time for the Loafblade Lightborn to leave and carry on his quest to save this world without the Elves to stand beside him…

I shake my head at that last idea. I can’t think like that. It might even be the old Lightborn talking. But that’s not me. Not now.

Then again…I think there’s at least one Elf out there that wouldn’t need much persuading. Maybe if the time truly has come…

My door creaks open suddenly. Slowly, and methodically – each hinge snapping lightly against the hands that edge over its threshold.

“Raziel…” a voice whispers.

It’s a voice as chill as the coldest winds that touches my bones.

It’s a voice I recognize.

I’m barely even able to stand as my assailant approaches, and I see the flash of my own fear reflected on the blade of her knife.