"What is this?" Flyte asked looking at the tome-of-a-book that Ontin gave him.
Ontin laughed. "That book is a set of notes penned by me to serve as a guide for techniques you might want to consider incorporating into your fighting. It covers anything from more in-depth maneuvers with your sword to a set of suggestions as to how to use basic spells in a melee."
"And you expect me to read this?" Flyte had no clue as to how long it had been since his vow to stop reading for a week, but he felt like he should have sworn more days. If Flyte read this enchiridion, he doubted he could ever read again.
"The goal is for you to not need to read it," Ontin said, confusing the poor farmer. That was, at least, until Ontin passed Flyte a small paper. "That should tell you how to turn the information in the book into spoken words." Pulling out another dreadful book, Ontin spoke once more. "I can't help but feel like our ways will part soon, so I prepared this written discussion on magic theory for you."
Flyte regretfully took the books but made a note for himself to check them out once he got free time later. Now that the break in training was over, Flyte had to try to defeat Ander in a magic-only spar.
While Flyte was generally the better mage between the pair, Ander's magic was completely innate so Flyte couldn't tell when or what Ander was going to do in any exchange. What didn't help was that when Flyte was using magic that wasn't light based Ander also seemed to have a better magic stamina than him. The only thing keeping the two alive was that Ontin was right there, ready to somehow dispel all of the hazardous spells. Although the fighting was hard, Flyte was still glad that Ander wasn't condemning himself for having magic despite his background.
"Start!" Ontin commanded.
Flyte had learned the hard way not to be too hasty, and so he let Ander have the first move.
Barreling in at insane speeds, Ander prepared to propel shrapnel towards Flyte. "Sari," Flyte whispered swiftly. 'Jump, block, wind up-and strike.' Flyte walked himself through the technique he had prepared for this very attack.
Jumping over Ander's blast, Flyte shielded himself using a branch he found on the ground. Using the fragment of the spell of nature that he could use, Flyte was able to block the entirety of Ander's barrage. Winding up his arms midair, Flyte set himself up to launch a score of splintered shards at Ander.
Swinging the stick with enough force to shatter it might have seemed impossible to Flyte had he not performed the same to his legs less than a week prior.
At the cacophony produced by the razed wood, Ander raised his arm to guard himself.
The blow never landed, but the sticks did. At least, they landed on the ground.
"Flyte's point," Ontin shouted.
'What?' Walking up to the decimated twig, Flyte saw why Ontin stopped the attack. Each shard seemed to end in a sharp, if jagged, point, so even with Ander blocking them with his stone arm, they would have skid off straight into his neck and stomach.
After walking back to starting positions Ontin shouted: "Start!" again.
Ander seemed to want to try something new and try something new he did. He seemed to allow the dirt under him to accept him, similar to a man walking into one of those pools the wealthy had.
And Flyte had no clue where he was.
Columns of stone rose around Flyte, trying to cage him, Flyte prepared something he hadn't shown Ander yet. "Nelar!"
Sending out eight spears of light, Flyte's stamina dropped significantly, but the pillars were decimated. Using the speed spell, Flyte leapt into the air, narrowly avoiding another attack set up by Ander, but in his evasion, Flyte failed to notice Ander launch himself out of the stone behind him.
Ander through Flyte to the ground, the damage made less severe by Ontin's magic.
"Ander's point."
This was going to be a long day.
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After stretching, Ander and Flyte both returned to their rooms to rest, but Flyte doubted he would be able to doze now that his mind was churning with the possibilities that Ontin's written explanations presented. Who knew that reading could be so productive?
According to the short page Ontin had written, spells could be discharged by flipping the word's letters and thinking them out with intent, almost like speed and slow. The difference between the two spells and discharges was that the two spells both had separate disconnected effects, so both were verbal.
Ontin detailed that Flyte could listen to Ontin's teachings in the first tome by using the speed spell on the words that Ontin slowed down himself, which ffelt like a scam, as it meant that Flyte would have to read other books.
It was also strange to think about the fact for this method to work, Ontin would have had to read the entire titanic book aloud at least once. 'That man has too much free time.'
Reading the paper a little more, he found out why spell cancelations weren't widely used in combat. The intent that formed the basis of the "spirit contract" fought against discharges, so it takes substantially more energy to discharge a fire ball flying at someone than simply avoiding or blocking it. The mental processes used could also be dangerous if used improperly, so few people delved into the use of discharges. No one wanted to fry their own brain.
Mid-ponder, screams filled the air.
Flyte could tell that none of the screams belonged to his friends, but that didn't mean that would stay the case forever. Those shades had messed with Flyte for far too long.
Storming out of his tent with only his sword in hand, Flyte used a quick light spell to reveal to the shades his position. The hollerings and shouts of around Flyte intensified, but he was ready.
Surrounded by shades, Flyte exhaled. "Nelar," he said triumphantly. The weaker shades around Flyte burst to dust around him instantly and he quickly fired off several speed spells in one moment.
Ontin hadn't just showed Flyte sword fighting and magic theory. He also showed him. Healing spells, while simply healing in their base form, were more about changing the human body than anything else. By saying the word "Elgro" with a specific intent Flyte was able to reinforce his body and become something stronger.
Flyte ripped through shades which couldn't even track his motions, allowing time for his friends to bolster him. As long as another might have some need for his help, Flyte would prevail.
A fully armored Jim Brown slowly walked from the woods, his ashy blade thirsting for the thrills of battle, impeding the movements of the shades as the slowing monocaster he was.
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Flyte allowed his momentum to reset and morphed his body to its origin state. "Fancy meeting you here," he smiled.
Jim made a quick bow as though an impresario and went back to chopping. There was work to be done.
But all of a sudden there wasn't. Ontin stood beside his two students amid the clouds of dust.
Elliot and Ander arrived slightly later, missing out on the defensive battle completely.
"I don't enjoy having my own camp getting raided," Ontin scowled. "Flyte, Ander, Elliot; I think it's time for an exam, do you still have Will's chalice."
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After a few hours of rest the trio showed up at Ontin's rendezvous point. The chalice was surrounded a chain of light blue runes.
"Hello," a stranger said. "I was sent by Ontin to support three of his students in a battle against Dark Haven. Are you these three?"
"Yes," Ander said to the demonborn youth. "Who might you be?"
"My name's Kayr, I'm Ontin's honorbound."
An honorbound, one of the few types of beings stronger than a paladin, one closely related to the divine. 'That means...'
"Ontin's a god!?!" Flyte exclaimed, confused.
"No, no, no," Kayr began, his sharp teeth molded into a grin. "There are many theories and treatises about people like Ontin, but the most correct one is the idea that Aliran, who is divine, had ten souls and Ontin is one of them. Those pieces of Aliran are known as honorsouls, or geerht enaide, which both mean souls of honor."
"He's that powerful?" Ander asked.
"More than you could know. He has more time on his hands than anyone ought to have, which might make him seem strange to those who don't know him."
"What does some extra time have to do with personality?" Elliot asked with no judgement."
"How do you think you would act if time seemed slower by half?" Kayr asked.
Elliot chuckled. "A little cuckoo I suppose."
"Now think of a factor of one hundred." Flyte was terrified by the prospect. "That is the sacrifice that Ontin has given in order to protect the lives of his friends, troops, and allies. just like any duels you had with Telin, another honorsoul, he held his full might back. If you killed a friend of his or similarly enraged him, you wouldn't have even noticed your own death coming."
"That's the truth about life, I suppose. Even when you've been reforged by your problems, there's still someone stronger and faster than you ahead," Flyte said, quite sure that his discomfort was tangible.
Kayr took notice of this and acted quickly. "Sorry about that, I'm quite similar to Ontin in that my circumstances have made me a little strange, only instead of a weird sense of humor I get drawn towards the dark and reclusive possible situations around me. It keeps me on my toes."
Kayr's amber eyes seemed sad and the wiry hairs covering his scaled arms bristled in the wind's zephyr. "That being said, fate seems to have been crueler to honorsouls than to me. While them, and Ontin by extension, have lengthened lives, they're also restrained from connecting with people with such great bonds as their peers. By some divine rule or similar curse, Honorsouls are completely incapable of raising their own families. Ithilles, the honorsoul of light, is a great example of this. He died the moment that his wife Solenia bore their child. He literally turned to ashes as Aliran's soul moved to his child; a fate promised to any honorsoul who follows in his footsteps. Because of the dangers, the fear of leaving kin unprotected or a spouse alone, or perhaps the difficulties of finding someone with a similar lifespan to their own, most honorsouls plainly refuse to marry or have close relationships with nearly anyone. Ontin has likely not felt mutual love for anyone in his entire life despite being over three hundred years old, and if he has it had ended only in sorrow."
Flyte didn't quite know what to say, as that was kind of personal problem to be sharing with others.
"Before we begin," the red-scaled demonborn said. "I want to test your strengths for myself." Kayr tossed each member of the trio a branch. "I'll go unarmed. Now, start."
"What-" Flyte began, but Kayr was faster than his mouth.
Kayr was in the air, his clawed hand extended. his descent sped up as he innately cast a speed spell.
Flyte closed his eyes, thinking to Ontin's paper on discharges. 'Iras!'
Kayr slowed down just before reaching Flyte, allowing Flyte to strike back.
The demonborn deftly pushed off Flyte's branch with just a hand. "Good," Kayr smiled with a chilling joy lacing his features.
Ander rushed forward attempting to snag Kayr, but Kayr sped up and Ander was forced to use his magic to push himself out of the riposte's way.
Flyte and Elliot converged, giving Ander some time to recuperate. Elliot, after mending his fighting's flaws, had become the most versatile weapon user of the three.
Despite this, Kayr was able to grab both Flyte and Elliot's wrists, halting their attacks. Ander, now recovered, charged behind Kayr for a piercing lunge, only for Kayr to let go of the wrists, forcing Ander to be struck by Flyte's own attack. With only Flyte and Elliot left, they would need both teamwork and magic.
"Glow, Rowlo, Star, if you're not busy, can you come out and help me?"
"Of course," Glow whistled. "Although, I wish you would come to talk to us in the 3rd plane more often."
"Fair enough, even though I was tired after Ontin's brutal training I could have put i a better effort. Sorry you three."
"It's okay," Rowlo mumbled. "How do you want us to fight?"
"I think that if you slow him down, Star keeps his eyes shut, and Glow does whatever she can to remove his stronger sense of smell it'll be enough."
"So, just nullify senses," Star hummed. "That shouldn't be too hard."
Flyte stood for a second, waiting for a good opportunity to strike, which would hopefully come soon as his spirit friends removed Kayr's sensory input.
As Flyte waited for his moment, nothing seemed to happen, at least, that was until he received a telepathic message from Star.
"Flyte, we've been banished. You'll have to make more runes in order to summon us, unless your foe dies for decides to allow us back. Try to hang on without us!"
Kayr smiled a fanged smile as he dashed towards Flyte. Panicking, Flyte began casting every spell he could think of, but his rushed voice made his efforts moot as his spells drained his energy and failed to activate.
Elliot blocked Kayr's attack, batting the hand away before Kayr could remove Flyte from the fight.
"Get your head in the game Flyte!"
Flyte nodded his agreement and began motioning to Elliot which path he felt he should take.
Elliot ran towards Kayr, trying to force his hand. As Elliot reared back to strike, Kayr got ready to attack too.
"Elliot," Flyte yelled. "Visor!"
Elliot's eyes widened in recognition, and he summoned a visor of shadows over his face.
"Nelar," Flyte said brightly. Instantly, a flash of light blinded Kayr, stopping him before he could take Elliot down.
To Kayr's credit, his reflexes were impeccable. The instant the light struck, Kayr was leaping backwards, getting out of Elliot's way as best as he could. Leaping into the embrace of a tall tree, Kayr escaped Elliot's grasp. Recovering his eyesight, he narrowly avoided a spear of light as it bore itself into the tree where he had been.
With inhuman strength, Kayr leapt from the tree, beelining towards Flyte. Almost like a beast in nature, Kayr soon took Flyte out of the fight too. Elliot was alone.
But over the course of the past few grueling days of training imparted by Ontin, Elliot had not remained stagnant. When Flyte thought of Elliot as the most versatile of the trio, he wasn't kidding.
Just as Kayr lunged at him, Elliot shifted his grip on the staff to its center, momentarily blocking Kayr's attack. Holding Kayr back with just one arm on the stick, Elliot created a rod out of shadows and attempted to smack Kayr with it.
The issue really was Kayr's reaction to the conjuration. It seemed that he hadn't quite seen the visor that clearly, but the moment Elliot's baton appeared, Kayr's eyes became something akin to those of a wild beast. Elliot's staff was shattered with the demonborn's adrenaline-filled grip strength, and as Kayr reared back to strike a finishing blow, Elliot was only narrowly able to materialize armor on himself. Still, Kayr's claws pierced the shadows. "Nelar," Kayr said defiantly.
Flyte could see the blackened tendrils in Elliot's arm burn away as Kayr's eyes regained their focus. His claws were lined with the blood of the former honorguard.
Kayr's eyes widened as he took in the scene with his full intellect. "Shades! I'm so sorry Elliot." Kayr seemed to think for a moment. "Oh! Here. Elgro." Kayr's voice was very soothing, a feeling that Elliot seemed to feel as his pain was abased. His cut chest mended itself in short order.
"Kayr," Flyte started. "What in Aliran's veran name was that?"
"I suppose that I still have a little bit of war trauma. It's another regrettable facet of my nature that I can't seem to get rid of. Whenever I see shades I go berserk, and I suppose that was enough for me." Kayr turned towards Elliot, his eyes wet as though he were near tears. "I know that it was inexcusable and very much unjustified, but do you think you could find it in your heart to forgive me?"
"Well," Elliot began to answer. "I've never been one to hold grudges, so I have no reason to say no." Elliot flashed Kayr a reassuring smile.
"Thank you." Kayr smiled somberly. "Now Flyte, let's begin. You follow my lead, and we'll be done with these shades once and for all by the next sunrise." Flyte followed Kayr's gesticulations, and his world seen shifted to a strange and ominous shade of purple, a little darker and drearier.