“Immunization." Rudolph picked up pieces of broken dagger and put it on the rack.

“Meaning?” Saer asked.

“You can defend yourself only from weapons you have faced in past. This is why sorcerers sail for unheard continents, risking their lives on violent ocean in hope of getting to shore and face different perils. Experience is the utmost key to become a strong sorcerer.”

“So a high blood needs to survive a murder to avoid it next time?”

“Yes.” Maester Rudolph chose a blunt knife from his collection and ran his finger on its edge. Other than a mark there was nothing on his finger, “But with fake weapons. Exposing the trainee with low level of danger to simulate a real life situation.”

“What’s the secret of the exploding hilt?” Saer asked.

“This is where telekinesis comes to work.”

“How do you destroy weapons which have no wood attached on them?”

“Let it be for some other day. It is too complicated to learn for you in one day as well as tough for me to teach in such absurd time span.”

Rudolph poked his wrist to check the dagger’s point. When he was sure it couldn’t hurt anyone, he handed it over to Saer, “I have put you in state of danger by a real knife. Shattering this will be much easier now for you.”

“You haven’t told me what the technique behind it is.”

“Focus on weakest part of the dagger. Softer the part, easier to break. Think of a thunderbolt. Make your imagination feel real and let the thunderbolt run on its hilt.”

Saer imagined a thunderbolt with closed eyes to increase his profoundness. He felt cracks popping in the wooden part but it didn’t last long. He threw it on ground and began blowing on his hand.

Rudolph tired to pick it by the metal but he also pulled his hand back after his fingertips touched its blade.

“You didn’t perform it inspite of the knife being in your possession. Even beginner mid-bloods can break it on one try.”

Saer kept blowing his hand. Burning sensation hadn’t left his palm when Rudolph gave him the knife back to him, “What you did just now would be ineffective in real situation. Try again.”

He imagined the mightiest lightening he had seen fall in Azmra when he was a toddler.

“Mimick its motion.” Rudolph bellowed, “Nature works like this. Thunder splits trees in halves. It looks like crack on its trunk.”

Saer thought of the bolt on the wooden part, imitating movement of the thunderbolt. It slipped out of his hand for the second time. Rudolph would have thrown tantrums at him had he not belonged to the royal family. He covered his frustration with a smile, not if it looked natural or not.

“You need practice.” Maester Rudolph walked to the direction of another rack, “Maybe you will this one easier to control.”

Maester dragged the mace which Saer had shown interest in. He held it by both of his arms and hoisted it to his shoulder.

“Okay, hit me. I am ready for this prop.” Saer welcomed it.

Maester swung it at his chest but the contact was easy to endure for Saer. There was some pain wriggling in his chest which he never allowed to take over him. Agony went downhill from there on. After all, it was empty from within.

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“What did you have in your mind when I hit you with this?” Maester interrogated.

“I thought this would not hurt me.”

“Close your eyes. Let’s see what you think of the attack you can’t see.”

Can’t be worse than attack at Nastrian Grassland. He joined his eyelids close, waiting for Maester to decide when he wanted him to swing his weapon. Impatience strangled Saer soon. When he heard slight groan of Maester he knew it was coming for him.

A second later something heavy hit his chest. Saer flew in air and took a landing from his back. As his lungs empties, they felt texture of his ribs. He punched his chest to continue breathing. While doing so his button on sleeve gave up, exposing burn on his wrist.

Rudolph placed the mace head on ground and held it upright by its end.

“This is where people are wrong.” Rudolph spun the mace by its tip, “Rather than thinking it won’t hurt you, think that you will not let it touch you.”

Saer staggered to his feet, coughing the phlegm out. Even while Saer hadn’t recovered from the pain, Maester wasn’t done educating, “Don’t expect a shield of light to cover your body but be ready for a fall. This sorcery is about avoiding contact with the weapon. Magic repels our body instead of the weapon.”

Saer was sick of explanations. He knew attempting to learn sorcery was going to give him more bruises and some serious doubts to Rudolph on which blood he belonged to.

“I think we should go to some theory before this.” Saer tried his best to fuel discussion about Calajhan’s adversary.

“Any knowledge which is not practical exists for someone to just flaunt about wisdom.” Rudolph said, “Be ready for another hit.”

“No.” Saer said but his words came out late.

He glided back. Still it had nothing to do with the repelling technique. A delay of second to disagree grounded him again. This time his abdomen took the stroke.

“You said this was hollow.” Saer wriggled.

“Mace is a mace. Even the fake one hurts.” Maester loosened his robe to expose his chest. The skin on it was deformed and one of his nipples were not there, “Whipping took it out.”

“Are you trying to kill me or what?” Saer rose on his limbs.

“No my lord.” Maester Rudolph joined his palms, “This is the way to sorcery.”

“End the training for today.”

“Lord-”

“I’ll come tomorrow.” Saer said walked on while Rudolph was convincing him to stay.

“My sister would not like to come here if I tell her how sorcery is learned.” Saer whined to fake novelty, “She will die if you don’t tone down your techniques.”

“I am sorry, my lord.” Rudolph was shaking, “I will think of new ways to teach you two.”

“Great.” Saer said and left the house.

When he walked enough, he realized how dirty his new clothes had become. The only pair of clothes had tears on them.

Shit. He tried to seal the holes but his effort went in vain. Scrubbing mud from his attire, he saw tidy set of clothes hanging on a rope under sunlight.