“Good morning, Young Master. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah. Good morning to you too,” he replied without enthusiasm. Each morning he heard the same thing. It became a soothing routine initiated by someone else. Today, though, maybe it was the tone of her voice or the stiff smile she wore, but the refreshing and cheerful greeting he heard each morning was absent.

“Alexandra is waiting for you in the Restoration Room. Do you need help with getting dressed?” she asked expectantly.

“No, I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Oh, okay.”

Teal stepped outside, allowing space for him to change. The Restoration Room, the place where he always practiced magic, was only two left turns away, down two long corridors. After a sufficient distance, about halfway through each hallway, they passed significant indents or spaces between the walls often filled with decorations.

One such space before the Restoration Room contained a a vase with only one flower and a landscape oriented painting. Bloody bodies stacked upon one another filled the foreground of the image, broken up into two distinct piles. In the right pile were vaguely humanoid figures locked within crimson stained armor. Jagged metal feathers stuck out like needles. Their sky was covered in broad, thick, black strokes. Surviving people of the right ran away, their beady eyes shining through the helmets and darkness.

In the opposite pile, faces were clear to see. Crows feet, brow creases, laugh lines, scars, markings, each person was imprinted with their own little detail. They rested their eyes even while their broken claws and shattered horns peppered the ground. Above them stood a shining man with ashen wings. Their sky, filled with brilliant blues and whites, paled in comparison to him.

“That’s The Archon, isn’t it?”

“Huh? Oh, I-I believe so, Young Master.”

The Archon. It was the moniker for the greatest hero of the Death March, the uniter of the five clans, first ruler of Kheonyth Kingdom, and the only king that never ascended, Belekor Palewing.

He walked past the painting countless times in the past two years and it always stopped him in his tracks. It drew him in even more now that he knew its history. The Death march was a one-sided massacre so bad it wasn’t even called a war. It took place one hundred years after the first great conflict, The War of Saints and Demons, and brought The Blessed to the brink of destruction. The Archon united the great clans and stopped the humans’ crusade in a last stand at Telash Plains.

It was an event that would define the following two great wars.

“Let’s go in,” Teal said.

Alexandra had her hair tied in a ponytail. That was his last thought as a practice sword flew at him. He caught it midair as a red streak flashed across his vision. Next thing he knew, he lay staring face up at the ceiling, throbbing pain in his leg. Teal knelt by his side, checking in on him and his leg.

“Stop,” Alexandra commanded. “You will check on the Young Master only when we take breaks.” Teal reluctantly obeyed, stepping away.

“What the hell was that? You didn’t give me any warning!”

“From today onwards, I will allow no more slacking in your physical training. His Majesty has clearly stated his intentions in front of the council and Overlords to have you participate in the war.”

Solid wood slammed onto the floor. He pulled himself up. “Why are we here then? Why not the yard?”

“You will learn how to incorporate magic into your fighting and learn to sense it as well. First, channel your essence into your eyes. Now, brace yourself.”

Kieran was knocked to the ground as she flashed across the room. On his third attempt, he focused on watching her move. Again, she crumpled him with one blow.

What the hell. This is just inhuman.

“Focus your eyes.”

“Yeah, I know, I know,” he said, getting up. The ever so kind and merciful Alexandra graciously allowed him to catch his breath. Then, she vanished from view.

“To your left,” Teal shouted. Her voice cracked.

‘Left’ registered in his thoughts and he moved his sword. The unmistakable clash of two wooden swords resounded as he fell. His shoulder stung. Numbness radiated from his hand.

“Teal,” Alexandra warned.

“M-Ma’am, at least explain the basics to him.”

“Learning is best done under pressure. The more urgent the situation, the quicker the learning.”

As he rose to his feet a fifth time, Teal called out to him. “Young Master, imagine the feeling you have in your hands when you cast the bolt spell. Imagine it enveloping your eyes.”

Another part of his arm turned pink. More harsh blows came. One strike after another and he felt weak in the knees. It was a one sided beating.

“Isn’t there a spell for this?” Teal gave no answer, just a new warning. With her help, he propped the sword against his leg. Alexandra adjusted the angle of her attack and pain shot through his arm.

“Do not help the Young Master any more.”

Teal seemed to listen but after a short series of beatings, she called out another attack. Alexandra stopped the sword an inch away from his sore leg. A cold glare was aimed at the person behind him.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Taking his sword, she said, “Go rest, Young Master.” She handed it to Teal who took it with a startled jolt.

“W-Why are you giving this to me, Ma’am?”

Without a word, she started swinging in wide arcs. They were simple attacks that even he could see and the pattern itself was as basic as it could get, alternating between left and right. Teal blocked one attack and rushed to parry another. In a matter of seconds, she was left gasping for air. Beads of sweat rolled down her face. One fell into her eye and blinded her.

A shrill cry escaped her lips. Alexandra didn’t stop. She continued attacking and Teal desperately batted away the sword. Her grip weakened. Less than perfect blocks were broken through. Bruises accumulated on her arms, further hampering her fighting ability. Exhausted, she collapsed. It wasn’t over yet. Alexandra raised the sword again.

He ran over and grabbed her arm, “Aren’t you going too far?”

“Even as one's flesh is ripped in torn, they must harden themselves. This is the result of her own actions.”

“She was just trying to help me.”

“No, she ignored a warning and interfered in your training. As of now, she is nothing but a burden and will be so again in the future. Regardless, I have neglected my duty to discipline my junior. Never should you have come to harm during the event at the manor,” she handed him her sword. “I will train you both. Young Master, your goal is to react to my movement without assistance. Teal, yours is to protect the Young Master until he does using any means. If I land a hit on him, I win.”

So it’ll be a two on one?

It didn’t sound so bad to him. With Teal defending him, he’d have time to think and concentrate for once. The burning feeling of Essence coated his hands. Now, he just had to somehow get that feeling around his eyes.

Teal stood less than two meters from him. In her unsteady hands was the practice sword he had used. Alexandra waited at the other side of the room without a weapon. They took their positions. After signalling they were ready, she blitzed them. Flesh on wood sounded through the air.

She used her hand as a weapon.

Alexandra retreated after their clash. She raised her left hand in the air with the backside to them. Bewildered and dazed at her gesture, they wasted the brief period of rest she gave them. Red flashed. Teal grunted. An opened palmed hand pressed the piece of wood against her forehead.

“Y-Young Master, hurry!”

Alexandra retreated again but the rest time was halved. He concentrated on invoking his essence, moving it from his hands to his eyes. Another smack rang out. Then another. The tempo increased like a snare drum racing towards the crescendo. He looked for one second. Blood streaked down the wood. She could barely stand.

Teal put up a desperate block.

The attack snapped the sword in half and knocked Teal over. Alexandra stood over him with her hand raised, ready to finish the game. A shiver ran down his spine. Only her blurred form registered in his vision. He raised his arms to protect himself and closed his eyes.

But he felt nothing.

“Ugh!”

Teal had thrown herself in front of the attack. And now, she was climbing back to her feet.

“Hey, stop!”

Neither of them did. Alexandra’s cold eyes met his as she hit her again. It wouldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop it. Teal protected him over and over.

As she wobbled to her feet a fifth time, an overflow of emotions overtook him. Essence flared in his hands and eyes. With all the strength his adolescent body could muster, he swung toward the red blur. The upper half of his sword spun across the ground. Though he couldn’t fully see her, he managed to determine where she would attack from.

He dropped the broken sword and immediately grabbed Teal. Her eyes were partly glazed over. Blood flowed from the open cut on her head and she flinched when he touched her arm.

“Move,” Alexandra commanded. She placed a hand on the cut. With his emotions still running on high and the magic focused around his eyes, he saw a faint white glow from her hand and from the spell circle etched on the floor. The wound closed and her breathing steadied.

“You went too far,” he said.

“My method succeeded. You have learned how to use Raah and Teal protected you.”

He grit his teeth and his jaw ached under the pressure, “Yeah, but you could have done it differently. She didn’t deserve to end up all bloodied like this!”

“No, Young Master,” Teal was lucid again. Her eyes fluttered open. “I deserved it. She was right to do what she did. I deserved all of it.”

He sighed, “Whether you deserved it or not, how come you didn’t bring out your claws or something? Alexandra said you could use anything.” The moment the words left his mouth, he wished they hadn’t.

She caressed her single white horn, “I don’t have anything other than this.” The dejected face she wore so much in the past two days resurfaced. More than Alexandra’s harsh words or the beating she just endured, the shadow that hung over her was both long and unfathomably deep.

Fragmented pieces of the swords were placed by the door. Maids rushed in. They swept through the room, checking around the base of the pillars, before disappearing back out into the hallway and producing new training equipment. By now, Kieran had familiarized himself with the staff that often cleaned the Restoration Rooms.

One of them sneered at Teal. It was the long-nosed maid who they bumped into that one time. Her name was Margret. She shared the same living space as Teal in the cellar and was definitely one of the servants who bullied her. He had asked Teal about it before but she always avoided the subject.

In fact, many of the servants who disliked her were present. He saw the woman who had abnormally large ears, the one who tied her hair in a bad bun, and the one plain Jane.

As his stern red-haired caretaker gave them a few more orders, he leaned closer to Teal. “Did you find out anything about the bracelet yet?”

“No, I haven’t. It’s a bit difficult. B-But I’ll make sure to find something out soon,” she said. The way her dead eyes lit up just a bit made him sad. He wasn’t sure what his mother said to make her all sad but as long as he trusted her with this case, she might regain some of her spirit.

Kalstras had found nothing so far and things would be harder for Teal. There was an entire group of the lower servants who hated her for being chosen as his attendant without any prior experience. She was also the youngest maid by far, the difference being around ten years between her and the next person.

“We will practice for the next two hours,” Alexandra declared. She pried his fingers apart and stuck the training sword in.

Well shit.

----------------------------------------

“Young Master, can you hear me?”

“Oh, Oh yes. I can hear you, loud, and clear, Miss... Miss Battlecrazy. My ears have gotten used to the smacking sound of, of uh… the wood against my flesh. Everything that’s not that, and my breathing, sounds crystal freaking clear,” he said through his panting. “What is it? What do you want from this half dead child?”

She leaned over him, “Although you failed to block a majority of the attacks, I believe it more to do with your reaction time rather than your ability to see my movements. Congratulations, you have attained the basic level of Raah.”

“Wow~ I’m so glad.”

She nodded, her tone unflinchingly monotone, “It is a necessary skill. Tomorrow, you will rest. On the following day, we will venture into the city.”

His throbbing muscles jerked him upright, “We’re going into the city!?”

“Yes, but it is for your training. There is no better gauge of your strength than a tournament against others of prestigious bloodlines.”

“What?”

He could feel his bones creaking already.