Reuben was instructed on various “unstructured” exercises. Things that Greyson described as random acts of magic completely useless outside of combat, but perfect for how “hopelessly novice” his skills were.
The first drill consisted of magically manipulating a piece of dirt out of the ground and into his hand, then carefully letting it fall back down. Then picking it back up. Over and over and over again. Trying to focus on pulling it up while also keeping the ball intact without collapsing had been extremely difficult at first, but with every new attempt, each new try, it was becoming easier and easier.
Despite this, the fatigue was growing. Reuben had to take breaks often to eat or drink and by the end of the day he was on the verge of falling asleep.
After each rest the drill was always easier. He would lift a larger piece of dirt from the ground. By now he had gone from pathetic pebbles the size of his finger tip to a nice ball of rock roughly the size of his palm.
The opposite of this drill had him pulling up as many of the pebbles as possible. He would grab at the ground over and over, popping two or three small pieces of dirt out of the ground at a time. Lifting multiple at once was extremely difficult, so for now he settled for merely revealing them. Day by day he continued these two drills slowly getting more control over how many pebbles he could pull out, and increasing the size of the earth he pulled as well.
By the time Reuben was able to pull twelve fingertip sized balls out of the ground, as well as remove a large enough chunk of earth that he could hold it with two hands, he decided he was ready for more.
He turned to the sorcerer, who more often than not just watched. Watched him fail, succeed, progress, despair, all without saying much. If Reuben asked him something he would answer, but aside from that he did very little. Reuben was more or less on his own, left to figure these challenges by himself.
“What’s next? The next drill?” Reuben asked, eagerly. He felt he had triumphed over the two he had been given.
It was a question that always had an answer. Greyson told him, “Lifting pebbles out of the ground is one thing, but now you’re going to lift all twelve of them up to each hand. Six to the left, six to the right. Maintaining them in two completely different streams.”
So Reuben did as he was instructed. He slowly began ripping twelve stones out of the ground and letting them lay there, but Greyston stopped and said, “No more just letting them stay on the ground. I want you to yank out a dozen at a time, and a lift a dozen a time.”
“I will,” Reuben replied nonchalantly. He pushed his hands down and yanked his shoulders upwards. As he did he felt his muscles tighten from the effort. All around him he felt the ground being reached into and ripped open and a moment later twelve balls bounced out of the ground.
If Greyson was impressed he didn’t show it. He simply reminded Reuben, “Now keep them in the air.”
So Reuben did as he was told. He kept his magical grasp on the dozen small pieces and slowly started lifting them up. Very quickly he found his grasp starting to slip and the balls felt heavier with every passing second.
Trying to direct them to two different goals was instantly too much for him. Reuben grunted from the strain and all twelve fell back down. Greyson said straight away, “That was pitiful. Try again.”
That was all there was to it. Try again and again until he gets it. Until he had satisfied his instructor and could be trusted to learn more.
Once again the balls launched up. Reuben tightened his fists and clenched his teeth. Sweat was dripping down his forehead and he could feel the balls ever so slightly begin to fall down. Lower and lower they went no matter how much he resisted.
Reuben wasn’t sure if the balls fell first or he did. He was resting on one knee and panting from the exhaustion of the effort.
“God… do two at a time then.” Greyson commanded. The few times he did speak it was always to remind Reuben he wasnt’ enough for the current task, that he was moving too slow, and being too arrogant.
After a few minutes Reuben went back at it. He slowly lifted two balls, one on either side of them. They started colliding towards one another, and he focused on pushing each one towards a separate palm. As soon as he sent this command, his body reeled with dizziness. He tumbled on his back and blinked stars out of his eyes. It felt like he had been holding them for hours.
“You got them to go on their separate paths,” Greyson commented. He threw a loaf of bread on Reuben’s chest and threw him a flask of water.
As he tore into the bread and gulped the water, Reuben asked, “How long do I have to hold them up for?”
Greyson laughed at the question. “There isn’t a time limit, especially not for little pebbles like that. For now you just keep in the air until I finally tell you you can let go. How’s that?”
“Fine.”
As the hours wore on Reuben was slowly getting the hang of the movement. The two pebbles drifted apart and connected with each of his palms. He held the two up and slowly began trying to lift two more up, while keeping the first two in the air. It felt like he had asked the entire earth to shift. The balls hovering on either side of him fell and he let out a gasp of exhaustion.
Today’s training was taking its toll. Each time he collapsed it took him longer to recover, and finally he plateaued for the day at lifting four balls in total. Even worse, he had slowly become unable to keep up with that first number. Four slowly fell back to three then two. By the end of the day his vision was blurry and the feeling of nausea wouldn’t go away.
When it got to this point, Greyson declared, “We’re going back home. Clearly you need some rest.”
“What? It’s still light out. We can’t go back now,” Reuben protested. Even as he said that his words were slowed and speaking had become a difficult effort.
Greyson said adamantly, “We’re going home. We’ll come back out tomorrow.”
As they walked back through the town, Reuben asked, “Are we going to continue my physical training as well? You mentioned you… wanted me to stick with it, right?”
“The plan was I’d have you learn a few spells to use against the guards, but this is taking much longer than I thought it would,” Greyson said honestly. Somehow it stung more when he was simply saying his thoughts, and not actively trying to insult Reuben.
Reuben asked, “How much longer do you think it would be till I’m ready for that?” For the first time he realized a part of him missed his days at the barracks. He missed Captain Jacobs. Not only that, but he was excited to finally be able to best the master swordsman.
“At the rate you’re going? It’ll probably take you two or three months to have enough speed and finesse to actually handle yourself in a fight,” Greyson told him.
Reuben stopped. Greyson turned, looking at him confused. The boy replied, “I’ll be ready in a month.”
“Really?” Greyson replied, amused. “Stop this then.”
A lump of rock bounced into Reuben’s stomach and the boy toppled over. Greyson repeated, “Two months, and that’s being generous.”
As Reuben got back to his feet he groaned under his breath, “Just you wait. You’ll see.”
Over the course of the next few days Reuben tirelessly ran the drill over and over. Slowly four balls became six, eight, ten. By the fifth day he ripped twelve tiny chunks from the earth and called six to each hand. His body trembled as he tried to keep them there, holding onto them with everything he had. A few seconds later he broke, and they fell once again. He would spend another day doing nothing but working on holding them in the air.
Finally Greyson ordered, “Drop them.”
The balls landed with a soft thud. Reuben had enough control to let them slowly float to the ground rather than drop them entirely. Despite having exerted so much control, he felt ready for more. It seemed Greyson agreed.
“See that tree?” Greyson asked, pointing to a tall oak tree about five meters from them. “You’re going to launch as many of those pebbles at it as you possibly can. You can’t move closer and it has to be-” He tore a line through the earth shifting the grass under the mud, “The pebbles have to come from behind this line.”
Reuben was excited. Finally he was going to be instructed on throwing. Greyson stood next to him and began shifting the earth as he said, “Focus on that sensation of calling the rock towards you. Remember how you were able to change its direction? Combine those ideas and move it not towards you but- Away!”
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As he shouted, the rock he summoned sped through the air and bashed into a tree branch knocking it clean off.
“Got it,” Reuben replied with a nod. He summoned up one modest rock, knowing by now not to let his pride get in the way of his training. He held it in place, directly next to his shoulder, which already he could feel the strain of. Then he pushed his palm towards the tree, focusing on pushing the rock away and towards the thick oak body in front of him.
Instead the rock whizzed a few inches forward before immediately crashing to the ground below.
Reuben looked at Greyson, then quickly turned back. He knew all he would get in return was some sort of scolding or, “My first throw I was able to send an entire continent forward!” So he just settled on lifting a pebble instead. He supposed he should have just gone with that originally.
So again he summoned it to shoulder height, pushed his arm forward, and commanded it to fly forward, straight into the tree.
It went about a foot forward, then lost all power and sank through the air.
“Again,” Greyson commanded from behind.
Another pebble soared, ending up around the same spot.
“Again.”
Again and again, that was all there was to the drills. No, this was no longer just a drill. Reuben was truly learning his first spell. He was committing it to some deep form of memory. Lift the pebble, connect it to you, send it forward.
Each time he did he felt the movement becoming more and more familiar. It was as if he was literally throwing the rock with his hand. Towards the end of the day he sent a pebble forward and finally it hit the tree.
The next few days were the same drill, and Reuben was making steady progress. The pebbles had become manageable, and he was able to aim and send each one flying straight to the center of the tree. He felt like he was ready to increase the size of the pebbles, to slowly get bigger and bigger.
“Speed is always easier than going up in size,” Greyson advised him, as if he could sense Reuben’s intention. “See how many you can throw accurately in a minute.”
So that’s what he did. Like clockwork he performed the spell over and over. Lift, throw, lift throw. As fast as he possibly could manage. With each try, each rest, his numbers gradually improved. Five a minute, six, seven, nine, ten. The effort was becoming less and less as well, it had become a reflex.
“Keep in mind, you still could probably physically throw those pebbles faster,” Greyson cut in, never missing a chance to push him off his pedestal. “Anyway, it’s time for your next drill then.”
“What is it?”
“Catch,” Greyson replied. He moved his hands and a foot sized rock hit Reuben on the side.
Resisting the urge to wince, Reuben asked, “You’re serious?”
“I am. I’m going to throw stuff at you. You stand right there and try to stop it. No dodging, no blocking. Send it to the ground.”
“Can I throw it back at you?” Reuben asked, eager to fight back against the sorcerer.
Greyson laughed and replied, “Go for it. See how that ends up.”
So the two stood on opposite ends and Reuben said, “Ready when you are.”
A second later and another foot sized lump launched from the ground and headed for Reuben, and it moved fast. He reached his hands out and focused on pushing the rock back. To his surprise, it only slowed a bit and still ended up colliding into him. His resistance would award him a slightly smaller bruise on his arm the next day.
“That’s your best?” Greyson asked mockingly. “Maybe I should go slower or throw a smaller stone. Is that more to your liking?”
Reuben just glared back and gestured for the next volley. That was exactly what he was given as another stone launched forward. This time Reuben focused everything he had into sending it back. This time he managed to stop it at the very last second, landing in front of his toes.
The next rock that Greyson threw a mere half second after was too much for Reuben’s weary body. It slammed right into him and he fell backwards.
“You know, maybe when you can stop them, then you can think about throwing them back,” Greyson suggested with a grin. He still enjoyed seeing Reuben knocked down just as much as ever. Yet he said almost encouragingly, “Get back up. Come on. Don’t have time to sit around.”
“If I do stop the rock, can’t you just throw it back?” Reuben asked as he got back to his feet.
Greyson shook his head. “Not really unless it gets really close to me again. It sort of is the same as throwing a rock. Once you let go you don’t keep controlling it. You pick a destination, then throw, there’s no take backs. It’s basically the same thing. If I wanted to- Here let me just show you.”
A thick wall of earth shot up in front of Greyson. He got behind it and pushed his hands into it, then began sprinting forward. As he did, it went with him every step of the way until finally he sent it forward into a tree.
“While I’m close to it and following it, I have full control. As soon as I sent it forward at the tree, it’s all up to me hoping my aim was precise. The bigger the object the less control you have over it. Especially across a distance or when it’s moving fast. You can use a giant rock like a hammer to attack things close to you, or you can send smaller rocks towards people, but you can’t do both. Do you understand?”
Reuben nodded. “I do.”
Greyson paused. “One other thing. A creative enough sorcerer can do just about anything. I met a geomancer who just kept one giant rock by him at all times and used it like a yo-yo. He essentially did both at once, even though you really aren’t able to. It’s all about how you use sorcery. With the right spells and workarounds, you can figure out some things.”
“So you can’t throw a rock at someone and control it, but you also can?” Reuben asked, a bit annoyed at the contradiction.
“Let’s just say the thinner you spread your focus and abilities, the less likely you are to actually do anything at all. His yoyo moved a bit slower than a thrown rock and didn’t hit as hard as if he just used it as a blunt object. Yet he had versatility. Not to mention he was a hell of a lot better than you are.”
Reuben resisted asking, “And you too then?” He didn’t see any reason to interrupt his training with an angry outburst from Greyson. Instead he got back up and went to work.
The two exercises were drilled into Reuben back to back. He would spend hours on “throw” and trying to send larger projectiles towards the tree. He had worked his way up to being able to throw fist sized stones at the tree, but it took a lot of time and was very tiring. After about five, he had to take a break.
After the break he moved to the defensive drill. Greyson kept the rocks small enough for his level, but it was still difficult. Oftentimes the two would play a magical game of catch pushing the rock back and forth against one another.
“Once you lose control of your own projectile, someone of your same type of magic can take a hold of it. Fighting people of your own kind is annoying that way,” Greyson remarked as he pushed the rock Reuben counterred back towards the boy in less than a second.
“Then how do you manage to beat someone of the same type?” Reuben asked, feeling his exhaustion grow from the tug of war.
Letting out a sinister laugh, Greyson said, “By being stronger of course!” then pushed the rock forward with more power than ever before. Reuben managed to slow its course, but not stop it, and let out an oomph as the rock collided into his stomach.
A second later and his instructor shouted. “Now get back up!”
That was how Greyson worked. Each time Reuben finally managed to push back on his projectiles, to defend himself, he just hit back with more. There was never an end to what Greyson was willing to throw at him. Always a new version of the drills, a harder exercise, and an endless form of critiquing.
The previously quiet days were progressively more filled with, “You should have thrown them farther. You should have lifted them higher. Why are you moving so slow? Is this all you can give me?” He never gave Reuben even the slightest praise or approval. He always came up short no matter what he did. Not only that, but now Greyson no longer accepted his shortcomings. He wasn’t merely a critical instruction, but one who constantly forced Reuben back on his feet as well.
Each time he failed, his desire to grow stronger only grew. Likewise Greyson shouted for him to get back up, to give it more, to stop disappointing him. More and more it inspired Reuben. He had to beat these tests, he had to surpass Greyson, he had to be the greatest.
A rock hit him and before Greyson could demand he get back up and fight, Reuben already sprung back up and sent the rock flying back at Greyson.
As they engaged in a tug of war once again, Reuben acknowledged he wanted Greyson to be forced to admit he had grown. He wanted that praise, he wanted to be so good Greyson had to choke on his words and finally admit Reuben was good. He would impress the cynical man constantly bearing down on him, he had to.
So over and over as days became weeks, Reuben pushed harder. By the final week of the month Reuben was standing there being attacked from all sides. Earth would launch at him from every angle and he had to hold out for as long as possible.
A rock bashed into his calf and his knee buckled. He pushed his hands out to stop a lump of earth coming at him. He waved behind himself to push another stone away. Then a piece hit him in the shoulder and he fell over.
“It’s been a month, you know,” Greyson declared as he stood over the downed boy. “You said in a month you would be ready to face the guards. So what the hell are you doing lying down?”
“Get back up, damn it! Didn’t you tell me you’d be the strongest? What are you doing taking it lying down? Fight boy, fight!”
The constant ridiculing and reminders only further strengthened Reuben’s resolve. He wouldn’t take it lying down, he wouldn’t let anything knock him down for good. So he got back up every time and forced himself to endure the challenges.
This time Reuben went on the offensive. He began blasting fist sized stones across the air, aiming straight for Greyson’s head. His control over them was still novice and the time between throws was about ten seconds, so he had to act with precision.
With a wave of his arm Greyson sent them to the ground. He said, “You’ll need to do better than that. Like this for example-” Before Greyson had first moved, Reuben was already charging him. The movement caught Greyson off guard and he went to block.
Reuben threw another rock at his face, and Greyson stopped it in time. That was Reuben’s plan. As Greyson had turned to stop it, Reuben ducked under around him and punched him square in the jaw. Greyson staggered then stopped, standing there.
“There we go,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his chin. He said louder, “There we go! You showed some real initiative, and I hear you. Standing around throwing rocks back and forth? It’s too easy. From now on we’ll be incorporating live combat with fists, weapons, and magic.”
For a brief second Reuben felt anxious about the sorcerer coming at him with full force, and then that part burned up for good. Finally Reuben felt nothing but his heart pounding and an anticipation to fight. He was ready to keep going, he had grown stronger already and would grow stronger still. He took his pole out of the pocket in his bag and held it in his hand.
Burning with determination and a desire to test himself, Reuben said, “Let’s go then.”