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Rise of the Desolate Star
Chapter 102 - The First Lesson

Chapter 102 - The First Lesson

Chapter 102 - The First Lesson

“So, are you ready?”

Skyle looked up from the bow he held in his hands. It was a finely crafted bow that he could not possibly afford, yet inside this abandoned warehouse it was merely one among dozens of similar weapons. It had simply hung there like a wall ornament until Skyle had picked it out. Talon had promptly strung it for Skyle and unceremoniously tossed it.

Skyle had fumbled with it in fear of dropping it and scratching it, but Talon seemed unconcerned. He waited placidly with his hands behind his back.

“Any rules?”

Talon shook his head. “There are no rules in a real fight. I’m not here to teach you about dueling or any such nonsense. Treat each fight as though your life depended on it. Now, just tell me when you’re ready to begin.”

Skyle nodded, shifting his shoulders until he felt the new quiver of arrows slide into a more comfortable position.

“Alright, then I suppose I’m ready-”

Skyle had been ready for Talon’s attack because he had been able to read the surge of red gathering in the man’s aura directed at him. No matter how prepared he thought he was, by the time Skyle reached over his shoulder and drew the first arrow from its quiver, Talon had already crossed the fifteen foot distance and held the cold steel of his dagger to Skyle’s throat.

“I-” Skyle tried to speak, but the kiss of steel on his skin grew more insistent, instantly silencing him.

“You’re dead, and corpses don’t speak,” Talon said, staring him down.

Skyle suppressed the disgruntlement he felt in his chest, or at least he thought so. The dagger nudged him just a little harder and he heard his uncle’s flat words in his ear.

“You think that was unfair? You don’t have to say it, I can see it in your eyes. Just the fact that you feel that way only serves to further reinforce my point. You still don’t get it, do you? Fine, let’s try this again.”

Talon sheathed his dagger in a motion so quick that his hands were barely a flicker of motion. Skyle was finally able to take a deep breath as he twisted his head and rubbed at his throat.

Talon ignored him and walked back to his original position, still fifteen feet away from Skyle. This time, he was even facing the opposite direction, giving his back to the little boy.

“At your leisure, Mr. Skyle. Make sure you’re ready this time.” Talon held his hands behind his back and called out behind his shoulder.

Skyle reached over his shoulders his right hand while his left hand tightened its grip on his bow. Taking a deep breath, he braced himself before calling out to Talon.

“Now!”

As soon as he spoke, Skyle plucked an arrow from the quiver on his back. He got as far as placing it against the bow this time.

Talon had burst into motion as soon as the word left Skyle’s mouth. His right hand blurred as he spun around to face Skyle. The boy had barely begun to pull back on his bowstring when he felt a painful impact against his shoulder. The arrow flew out of his nerveless hand, and Skyle was forced to take a couple steps back as he let out a grunt.

Looking down, Skyle saw a four inch long leaf throwing blade lying on the floor. He felt around his shoulder, knowing there would be a dark bruise beginning to form under his clothes. It was fortunate that the knife had struck him butt end first, or he would be lying on the floor with cold steel biting deeply into his flesh.

His eyes narrowing into a thin line, Skyle looked up at Talon with a dissatisfied glower.

Talon brushed it with a calm smile. “What? Speak up, Skyle. I’m not a mind reader.”

“This.. It wasn’t.. I mean, it’s not-”

Skyle’s brow scrunched up as he realized how stupid the words he had been about to say were. Not fair? Not what he was thinking of? Talon was too fast and too strong? Not only would Skyle sound like a whiny kid, Talon himself had told him to treat this as a real fight.

“There are no rules in a real fight.”

“I can see from the look in your eyes that you are finally beginning to understand. Still, it’s not enough. So, come at me again.”

Talon had already turned around once more, his hands still at his back. He even began to whistle a tune while waiting.

Skyle knew he was purposefully taunting him, but burn him if it wasn’t working. He scowled heavily as he massaged his sore shoulder. This time, Skyle silently padded away until he stood at least forty feet from his opponent. After all, there really were no rules.

As if to further reinforce the point, this time Skyle didn’t even speak until he already had his arrow nocked and ready to fire.

“Go!”

The arrow left his bow as soon as Skyle said the word. It flew true, and it was a testament to the fine craftsmanship of the bow that the arrow drew a flat line instead of an arc as it reached Talon in the blink of an eye.

It still wasn’t enough, of course. By then, Talon had already turned around and needed only to sway his shoulders slightly to the left to let the arrow fly past him in a blur.

Skyle had expected that it could not be so simple to win the fight, but the ease with which Talon dodged his arrow infuriated him. His hands had already been reaching over his shoulder by the time Talon swayed aside. To Skyle’s surprise, Talon didn’t burst into a sprint as he had earlier. Instead, he strolled toward the archer as though it were the most normal thing in the world.

Skyle gritted his teeth and launched his next arrow. It targeted Talon’s hips so that he would not be able to lean his shoulder out of the way.

Talon didn’t dodge this arrow. Instead, he plucked one of his daggers from his belt and casually slapped the arrow aside with a loud clang.

The man hadn’t even had the grace to so much as look at the arrow. The whole time, his eyes were watching Skyle’s with a relaxed smile on his face that didn’t waver a hair.

The little boy even activated the Far Sight. It was still completely useless. Talon was not moving particularly fast. He was methodically advancing step by step while swatting away each of Skyle’s arrows as if they were annoying flies

Skyle kept backing away while firing arrow after arrow. Talon didn’t even blink as he continued to saunter forward, all the while deflecting every single arrow with an ease that bled away all of Skyle’s confidence just like the blood that had been drained away from his face.

Only his bloodshot eyes still held a stubborn light as he continued to fire arrows from every angle he could think of. By the time Skyle reached over his shoulder and found the quiver empty, his fingers were numb and his forearm was bleeding from the bowstring repeatedly slapping against his skin.

Talon stopped when he was twenty feet away from Skyle. He pointedly glanced at the empty quiver over Skyle’s shoulder, then raised his eyebrows as he sheathed his dagger. Then he held up his hands in front of Skyle, as though to display his palms. The turned them this way and that, his expression changing to one of mock surprise at the fact that they were empty.

Then he snapped his fingers in Skyle’s direction. By that time, however, Skyle had already spotted the gathering of elemental essence in Talon’s hands and the boy had thrown himself to the side. Only instants later, a deafening explosion rattled Skyle’s bones and left a whistling noise ringing in his ears.

Skyle’s last minute dive did not have the expected effect. Instead of taking him out of the way of the blast, Talon had read his movement and he had directed the blast straight at Skyle’s chest. The impact drove him backward as he crumpled into a ball and slid across the floor.

Talon’s face loomed large in his vision as Skyle blinked up blearily. The dazzling grin on his face was nearly blinding in the boy’s eyes.

“Do you get it now?”

Skyle coughed weakly, clutching at his chest. Briefly using the Infinite Eye, he saw surprisingly little damage. The impact point must have been spread all across his chest instead of focusing in a single point. That would explain the reason why he was lifted off his feet, yet in the end there wasn’t nearly as much pain as he had expected.

Still, Skyle didn’t appreciate being tossed about like a sack of potatoes. Glancing up at Talon’s expectant face, the boy began to sweat in earnest as he realized that he was supposed to learn something from all this. If not, he didn’t doubt that this particular lesson would continue, and things would only get uglier from here on out.

“Good, you’re finally thinking with your head. Welcome back to the class, Skyle.”

Skyle wanted to grumble back, but wisely held back as he began to think furiously. What could possibly be the lesson? This was to be his first one, and so it must hold particular importance.

Did Talon intend to drive in just how weak the bow was in a melee fight? Skyle was well aware of this already. In fact, wasn’t he prepared to take his father’s sword lessons seriously now?

Was he supposed to realize how weak he was? Well, he was only 12 and an elemental cripple, too! He had been doing just fine so far, thank you very much. He had survived fights against cultists, magical beasts, and murderous mage students. He knew of no other boy his age who could have done better, not even Leon himself, who was an exalted genius summoner.

Glancing down at the bow he still held clenched tightly in his fist, Skyle was a little proud at these small victories. It was then that a thought struck him, gnawing upon his momentary sense of satisfaction.

“Small victories? This is the real world, and there’s only dead or alive. Which is it for me, right now?”

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He had died three times in this short time. Of course, Talon’s skills were far beyond the little boy’s. The Shadow agent had shown that he could defeat Skyle without even breaking out a sweat. Why was there still so much bitter disappointment? Was Skyle supposed to give up then?

No, Talon had stated that Skyle must learn an important lesson here. What was it? Only when Skyle began to review his recent thought process, did he catch the glimmer of a clue.

Yes, a bow was weak in melee range. Everybody knew this. Talon was also a master of his deadly trade, while Skyle was only a young boy who could not even wield any elemental power. Skyle had still decided to fight against Talon when range, weapons, and other conditions were obviously against him. Why? Because it was training? Had he given up before the fight even started? Had he expected his uncle to go easy on him?

Maybe those were part of the reason, but deep within, Skyle also felt an unreasonable anger at how laughable his puny efforts had been. It was almost as though he had expected to pull off a miracle out of nowhere. He had not truly expected to win, but he still held a strange sense of expectation in his heart.

Where had this silly pride come from? It was useless. Worse, it was a crippling flaw. It was deadweight that was holding him down when he should be absorbing everything he could like a sponge.

What about his father’s sword lessons? Why had he never taken them seriously? Because he had never expected to truly have need of them. Even now, when the situation had changed completely, such an attitude still bled into his thoughts and actions. It was a spoiled brat’s perspective, stubbornly clinging to his pride and his favorite toys.

For the first time, Skyle looked down at the bow he held in his hands with a conflicted emotion. Should he seal away his bow for the time being, to further drive the point home? Against a true expert like Talon, Skyle was completely helpless. He knew learning sword techniques wouldn’t help him at all. That wasn’t the point of this lesson at all.

This wasn't just about how weak or strong Skyle was. He slowly came to realize it was about his attitude and work ethic as he approached these lessons. What would it take for him to become truly strong? Just dabbling into lessons here and some fights there? No, he needed to reinvent himself. He must find a viciousness, a raw determination that would remain unbent even under the harshest of duress.

If this meant abandoning his bow and forcing himself to become weaker so that he would become stronger later on, then so be it. He needed to learn anything he could right now if he wanted to become strong. His previous lackadaisical attitude towards training would be his greatest bane.

Only now did Skyle realize how childish his perspective had been. His newfound strength was nothing in the face of a true challenge. Beating up spoiled mages and barely scraping by in Sactuary was meaningless. He needed to reassess himself and be willing to learn whatever he must to achieve true strength. Even his favorite bow could become a liability if he became overly reliant on it.

It seemed ironic that what he had always taken the most pride in had been merely a crutch. If Skyle was not as skilled with the bow, would he have dismissed his father’s other lessons as easily? How much stronger could he be if he had devoted himself whole-heartedly to honing his skills with different weapons and strategies, instead of always relying on firing arrows from range?

How much weaker had Skyle allowed himself to become by his own stubborn refusal to adapt and grow? This inner conflict must have shown in his expression as he regarded the bow in his hand.

A hand came to rest upon his shoulder. When Skyle looked up, he saw Talon smiling at him.

“It isn’t the bow’s fault. Really, it isn’t anybody’s fault, Skyle. You’re just a victim of circumstance. Still, that’s exactly what you are right now - a victim. If you want to take matters into your own hands, you need strength. You can’t pick and choose. You can’t afford to. You should be like a miser, desperately hoarding even the tiniest scraps that may sustain and uplift you. Knowing and developing your strengths is a good thing, but you can’t neglect other things. I will teach you about more things than you know what to do with in the following months. How much you learn and how they change you, that’s entirely up to you.”

Talon took the bow away from Skyle’s hands and twirled it in his hands under the boy’s intense scrutiny.

“Your archery skills are an excellent tool, but they should not encompass the entirety of your arsenal. How about an indoors situation where you’re forced to deal with many close-quarter combat situations? What if you face someone who can deflect all your arrows, or worse, is immune to them?”

Skyle nodded without a word, looking down as shame dragged at his features. He could clearly recall how disadvantaged he had been while facing off against Leena and her Stormshield.

Talon’s encouraging words broke through his gloom. “No need to feel down, Skyle. I saw what you can do at the mage arena. You’re strong, kid. You’re so strong it frankly scares the hell out of me. I don’t know what you’ve been through these past few years, but it can’t have been easy. But there’s a storm coming, and if you want to stop being a mere victim of the times, then you have to throw away that silly pride and start over. If you don’t..”

Talon channeled a surge of elemental power into his hands. The bow shattered with a sharp crack, and Talon tossed the broken pieces aside like so much kindling. Then he deliberately stomped on one of the pieces as he reached down to Skyle.

The young boy clasped the offered hand and rose to his feet.

“I think I understand,” he said slowly.

Talon smiled and ruffled his hair, just like his father had often done. “Good. I knew you had it in you.”

Skyle smiled back, and nodded in gratitude. It had been a painful, if necessary lesson. Still, deep within Talon’s eyes, the perceptive boy caught the glimmers of regret.

Frowning slightly, he used the True Sight. The results almost had him laughing out loud.

“I’m sorry, Uncle Talon.”

“I said it’s not your fault, Skyle. Just remember what you have learned today.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean about that.”

“Then what?”

Skyle coughed uncomfortably. “I really love bows, and I couldn’t help but admire the bestest, prettiest out of the whole lot.”

A long moment of silence followed. Skyle cleared his throat uncomfortably before he continued, glancing up at Talon out of the corner of his eye.

“That was a genuine Attawan legacy tribal bow, wasn’t it?” He asked in a small voice, then glanced around the room and the weapons displayed upon the walls. “This isn’t just some random safehouse. You brought your own private collection, didn’t you?”

Talon laughed hollowly. “You just had to pick the best bow out of them all, didn’t you?”

“You’re the one that broke it just to make a point.”

“Why, you little rascal. I think you still have too much energy left. This should be enough of a warm-up. Let’s move up to the main course.”

Matching words to actions, Talon took down a massive two-handed axe from the wall and tossed it in Skyle’s direction.

The little boy almost reached out to catch it, but then realized how stupid that would be and jumped away with a strangled yelp. The axe blade struck the floor with a loud thunk while the hilt swayed violently. The whole thing must have weighed at least 10 pounds.

Skyle stared at the massive abomination for a stupefied moment before bringing his disbelieving eyes to meet Talon’s placid gaze.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh? Seems like we still haven’t learned our lesson?”

“No, no!” Skyle waved his hands frantically. “I get it, I get it. But an axe? A two-handed axe? What kind of mindless brute uses this kind of stuff?”

“For the next hour or so, that would be you.”

Talon’s calm words only made Skyle’s eyes widen further as he backed away from the axe.

“How about you, Uncle Talon?”

“Oh, don’t you worry about me. I’ve got just the thing,” Talon murmured, his back still to Skyle as he perused the endless array of weapons displayed upon the walls.

“There we go!”

Skyle could only stare on consternation at the slender rapier held in Talon’s hand. He waved it in an intricate pattern through the air, leaving behind only a flash of steel. Then Skyle looked back down at the monstrosity he was supposed to wield.

“Are you sure you didn’t get things wrong? As in, they should go the other way around?”

“Too many words, Skyle, not enough fighting. Now, pick up your weapon!”

Skyle let out a croak as he stumbled away from the tip of Talon’s questing blade. He scampered over to the axe and spat on his hands. Setting his feet firmly, Skyle grasped the hilt in both hands and pulled as hard as he could. With agonizing slowness, the blade gradually began to slide free. When it finally came off the ground, Skyle nearly fell on his back with a hoarse cry.

By the time he was finally able to bring up the axe to a guard position, his face was already red with the exertion. His hands were sweating and his legs were shaking. All the while, Talon continued to advance while lithely twisting his blade this way and that.

“W-Wait, Uncle Talon. This isn’t, isn’t-”

“Fair?”

“Yeah! It definitely isn’t fair!”

Talon paused for a moment, taking a moment to deliberate on the matter while he looked up in thought.

“You’re right, of course.” Talon said at length, but then the small glimmers of hope that had begun to spring up in Skyle's heart were completely crushed by the words that followed. “That’s the whole point of this, after all. Now, en garde!”

The rapier became a streak of light as it sped forward. Skyle could see the blow coming from a mile away, but he instantly knew it would be impossible to shift the useless chunk of steel in his hands to deflect the blow.

He could only howl as he tried to twist his hips out of the way of the incoming rapier. It was useless, and a streak of fire was left on his butt that lifted him up on his toes.

Skyle swiftly backed away and leaned the useless axe against the ground while he used a hand to frantically rub at his burning behind.

“At least teach me something about this thing first!”

“What do you think I’m doing? That was called, not parrying a blow. Now, we move on to how not to drop your guard to clutch at your butt when the enemy is about to unleash hell upon you.”

Skyle howled once more, even more loudly this time. He had a feeling this would be a long, long night.