Chapter 559: The Ward & Shadow Part 2

  It wasn’t difficult to find Stryg. Though there were several walled-off courtyards set aside for training on the shared Gale and Veres estates, there was only one that had a pair of Gale warriors guarding the gate. And unless Lady Elise had suddenly discovered a new love for swordsmanship after two decades then it was quite obvious who was causing the loud scraping noises of metal on metal.

  The guards stepped aside as Gale neared. “My lady.” They bowed and unlocked the gate.

  Gale gave them a silent nod and stepped inside. Stryg stood alone. A pair of training dummies lay on the floor, their armor crumpled on several points. Gale sighed and closed the gate behind her. She pulled her scarlet hood over to shield her from the noon sun before she leaned on the wall and silently watched Stryg beat the last standing armoured dummy with abandon.

  The steel plate armor was perfect for simple training lessons against the dull practice swords but it fell under the weight of the hybrid’s attacks. Stryg’s lilac eyes were hard as he slashed over and over, the steel plate cracking underneath the pressure.

  Finally, with a splash of sparks and an ear-screeching noise, the dull sword cracked the plate armor in two and cleaved the straw dummy in half. Stryg stood over his opponent, his shoulders heaving, as he took ragged breaths.

  “You’re angry,” Gale said.

  As if finally noticing her presence, Stryg stiffened for a moment, but he didn’t bother looking back at her. “I’m fine.”

  “You could have fooled me.” She placed her hand over a magestone embedded in the wall and poured a trickle of mana into it. Sigils flared across the courtyard walls and faint red sigils floated above, providing a sound dampener. “Maybe next time remember to activate wards before you decide to murder the dummies.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “Your form was somewhat poor. Have you been slacking off ever since I left you at Undergrowth?”

  He smiled half-heartedly. “I’ve been busy.”

  “Uh-huh. Show me the Cascade Stance.”

  He glanced at the blunt sword in his hand. The training weapon had been pushed far beyond its purpose. The blade was bent at two points and a single crack ran through the entire body.

  Stryg tossed aside the sword and drew Krikolm from his belt. Even now he still didn’t have a sheath for the legendary weapon. The sword had cut any sheath they had tried. It was already difficult enough for Stryg to not cut his own pants while walking. Gale made a note to herself, she would need to find a solution for that at some point.

  Whatever thoughts she had running through her mind evaporated as Stryg fell into the Cascade Stance, his footwork shifting in smooth motions as he slowly advanced forward in a series of small, yet quick cuts. The blade shined a brilliant scarlet red in the sunlight and with every strike Gale could feel his aura pour into the blade, culminating in a final strike that sent a powerful gust straight to his would-be enemy.

  “Thoughts?” Stryg turned to her with a grin.

  “You’re relying too much on Krikolm. It not only channels your lifeforce energy but amplifies it. The goal of the Cascade Stance is to simulate precise control of our family’s sword style. You are meant to control your aura, building up your energy into a single powerful point before releasing it. Instead, you’re simply tossing Krikolm’s amplified power outwards. If you had done it properly, that final strike would have been thrice as strong. You know better. Do not let your emotions stain our swordsmanship. Again.”

  Stryg sighed, “Apologies, Master.”

  He fell back into the first steps of the Cascade Stance just as Gale spoke up once more. “This time do not use any lifeforce energy. Revert to the basics and the basics alone.”

  The blue hybrid went through the steps, Krikolm swinging out in flashing strikes. He wasn’t relying on his aura and yet he was somehow faster. More focused. His foot faltered in the second to final step and the last strike failed miserably. Stryg gritted his teeth but said nothing, simply returning back to the first position. He knew what she was going to say.

  “Again.” She said it anyway.

  It was clear his emotions were affecting his mental state, but that didn’t stop Stryg from trying over and over. On the 8th attempt, he finally managed a perfect stance that even Gian would find acceptable.

  “Very good,” Gale nodded. “Now show me the Granite Stance.” She would take him through all five of the fundamental nature stances if it meant clearing his head.

  Stryg shifted his feet and relaxed his muscles, preparing to enter the second stance, then he stopped and glanced at the dagger hanging on his belt. No, a dagger wasn’t the right word. It was once a sword, now shattered, and left with only the hilt and about a third of the blade.

  Nameless. Gale recalled the name or lack thereof. She could never forget the swirling pattern of that particular sword, even broken as it was.

  “I have all the fragments,” he said.

  “Do you?” She tried to keep the emotion out of her voice but failed.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I’ve been busy ever since I’ve come back with one problem or another, but I’ll have Cly’s sword reforged soon enough.”

  Gale nodded and winced as soon as she had. Her lack of denial had been telling enough. “How long have you known?”

  “I never forgot the pattern of Cly’s swords. Even if the metal is reforged, the original pattern of spell weaves on the enchanted steel remains. Don’t worry,” he said, a trace of pain in his eyes, “I plan to gift it to Kamilo. It belongs to him.”

  Gale shook her head. “Uncle Gian gave the sword to you.”

  “But—”

  “Kamilo can barely hold a spoon. He has no need for a sword, not yet.”

  “Neither do I, it seems.” He raised Krikolm.

  “Then keep Nameless as is. It’ll serve as a dagger well enough,” Gale pushed.

  “I…” Stryg swallowed hard as he stared down at Nameless. “I couldn’t protect his sword.”

  “Just because something breaks doesn’t mean it is broken,” she whispered.

  Stryg smiled wryly. “That doesn’t make sense.”

  “Nameless is a weapon. Do you believe it’s broken? Or can one still do their job, even while not whole?”

  “...You’re not talking about Nameless.”

  “I failed as a Shield of Veres. I couldn’t protect Carmilla, my ward. But you still saw me fit to become your personal Shield, your Shadow until death.” She placed a hand over her heart, “Ever since Widow Crag I don’t feel whole, but you still saw me worthy to stand by your side. So at the risk of having you recoil and run away from your problems, I think, no, I believe that you and I can both heal and be stronger for it. We can be the people our family needs.”

  Stryg closed his eyes and exhaled a shaky breath. A single tear slipped down his cheek. He fell into Granite Stance but it was different, there were small shifts in his footwork and his non-dominant arm. Gale hadn’t taught him this. No, this was—

  Her crimson eyes widened in realization.

  With a slow breath, Stryg opened his eyes in determination and fell into a dual weapon stance, Krikolm in one hand, Nameless in the other. The blades skimmed through the air, blocking imaginary arrows and sword strikes. Krikolm compensated for the shorter length of Nameless and moved in wider arcs as the latter twirled in swift abrupt motions.

  Gale watched with mouth slightly agape in fascination. The form was raw, somewhat crude even. It certainly wasn’t as fluid as when Clypeus had demonstrated the reformed stance to her, but it was his. Cly’s unique take on the Gale Style. He had been a prodigy swordsman and had followed his own path; he would have formed an entirely new derivative style if he lived long enough. Gale thought the dual style was lost forever, but she hadn’t realized how close Stryg and Cly had been. This wasn’t a simple imitation like she had seen Stryg do before, no, this was Cly’s sword, through and through.

  She couldn’t help but cry as she watched a part of her brother return to life.

  Stryg finished the Granite Stance and looked at her worriedly. “How was that? I know I’m not as talented as Cly was, but I thought—”

  “Again,” she whispered.

  He nodded and fell back into the Granite Stance. He repeated the movements over and over, each time growing faster despite the lack of lifeforce. His lilac eyes became more focused and they began to glow with an inner light.

  Gale wrinkled her brow. What was that? There were no traces of the darkened veins of Orange’s agility magic, or the bronze sheen of Brown’s vigor. Nor could she sense any use of his aura. This was something different.

  The words of Lunae echoed in her mind once more. Gale shook her head, that didn’t matter right now. She needed to focus on the present. Gale motioned for Stryg to stop. “That’s enough. You did well.”

  He slowed his movements, beads of sweat on his forehead. “Next stance?”

  “In a moment. It occurs to me I am still not fully aware of what transpired last night. Our servants tell me of rumors flitting about the Katag’s party. Care to enlighten me?”

  Stryg sheathed Nameless and looked at her sheepishly. “Um… Where to start?”

  “How about the part where Lynette drew her blade on the Katags?”

~~~

  “And then I sort of walked home…”

  “That’s it?”

  “Pretty much,” Stryg shrugged.

  Gale sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “So two random women kidnapped you right as you, what? Almost lost control of your magic? Some sort of torrent spell?”

  “I’m not sure it was a torrent spell,” he mumbled.

  “Any idea of who the women were?”

  “...No.”

  “Stryg.” She looked at him flatly.

  He withered under her gaze and looked away.

  “I am your sworn Shield, your guardian, your shadow. I cannot protect you if you don’t tell me what’s really going on. You and I are in this together forever. If you die, I die. Do you understand?”

  Stryg’s shoulder slumped and he nodded. “Yeah.”

  “So, what do you know about these women?”

  “…They’re my sisters.”

  Gale coughed and stumbled forward. “Sisters!?”

  “Half-sisters technically.”

  “Bloody Bellum, why do you always keep such important information to yourself!? Are they Veres?”

  “No, they’re from my father’s side of the family.”

  “You’re father’s side?” Gale cocked her head to the side. She knew nothing of Stryg’s paternal family. She already knew so painfully little of Stryga’s line and what had happened to them in the last few centuries.

  “We’re partners, right?”

  Gale’s expression turned serious. “Our bond goes beyond that of friendship or lovers. We are Shield and Sword, Ward and Shadow. Trust is what binds us,” she recited, determination clear in her voice.

  Stryg cleared his throat. “Yeah, well, about my father…”

  “What about him?” She hadn’t seen Stryg this nervous since Cly and he had first fought her.

  “He’s Stjerne,” Stryg said with a wince.

  Gale looked at him as if he was an idiot. “Stryg, I take my oaths very seriously. I thought we were past lies—”

  In a single breath, Stryg drew his arm back and punched the ground, driving his fist through the reinforced cobblestone. The enchanted rock cracked and caved in, leaving a small crater on the floor.

  Stryg drew his bare arm back. There were no yellow scales, nor bronze sheen over his skin. Gale still didn’t sense any lifeforce channeling either. She stared at the scene, her eyes slowly widening as her brow wrinkled in confusion.

  “What did you just— H-How…?” Gale stammered.

  Stryg opened his hand wide. There were no cuts or scrapes. His blue flesh was untouched. He took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. “I am Stryg Veres, son of the Traveler, Stjerne, the Calamity of Death. And I could really use some help.”

  Gale gulped loudly.