The air on the clearing was still, as if the forest animals themselves felt the tension. Two combatants stood opposite each other; their eyes already locked in a fierce battle before the first punch was even thrown. Nannade observed every single one of her Teacher’s muscles for any sign of movement, but they remained like chiselled in stone. She kept moving, smoothly and fluidly, to not let him anticipate where the first strike would come from, one step forward, one step back, to the side, left arm raising for a guard, right arm readying for an attack, dropping the attack, moving to a cross guard with the left. She never remained in one pose. She came closer, but he remained stalwart in his simple combat pose, left guarding his lower body, right guarding his upper body, not betraying his plan for the first movement. She dared to come closer, she was within his reach, but he not yet in hers, she needed to come a lot closer, into the danger zone, but be wary of all of his limbs.
She saw it, a tiny opening in his guard on his far-left, upper body. Her right fist shot in an arch towards the opening, he raised his elbow, deflecting her strike upwards, her right side was now completely open. He turned his left arm to catch hers in an elbow-lock, but she managed to wind out of his grip.
Garetas was facing Nannade with his left shoulder now. With a swift kick from her left she could reach him from behind. Nannade put all her might into it, but he still saw it coming. He seized her ankle with his right. Before he could pull her up by the ankle, she launched her entire body into a spin with her remaining leg.
Airborne, she drove her right foot up and inwards. Like with her left foot, Garetas anticipated a kick to his head and tried to catch it, but her target was not his head. Instead, it shot above his head over to the other side. With the impulse from her body, her left foot twisted itself free from Garetas’ grip. She caught her fall with her arms, face down, back to him.
“Too slow.” He said while putting his boot on the back of her head from behind. “Nice way to twist yourself free, but you didn’t think far enough ahead.”
She knew what would come next. “How many?”
“A hundred, minus ten for creativity. But you’re still half a continent away from catching up to me.”
When she was done with the push-ups, her arms felt like falling off.
“Come on, next round.” He helped her up.
It pained her to raise her hands to a defensive position, but she would not give up now, the price was too great, she wasn’t going to give up now. He again remained in his almost perfect pose. A thought shot into her head. He wouldn’t put a faulty guard; he was too good for that. He had baited her! She would not fall for it again. Instead, she would bait him!
She checked his stance all over and found the obvious open spot. His right lower body was not properly guarded. She sent her left for the obvious trap, but a moment later, she sent her right to follow up on his face. He stepped aside. His stance narrowed. Her fist flew by his face, his right arm blocked her other fist outward. He swept her forward leg away, she lost balance and he stepped aside to clear her way to the ground. To add insult to injury, he swept her arms away too, forcing her to fall right on her face.
“That one wasn’t even good form, a feint may be creative, but done like this, it only worsens your situation. A hundred and twenty.”
She couldn’t. She had soil between her teeth and her arms were already protesting the prospect of merely ten push-ups. “Does it have to? I’m spent.”
He smirked; she could tell without even looking. “Alright then. I’ll get the bowl.”
She wanted to protest again, but she knew he’d have worse in store. She instead accepted and got up on one of the stakes on her balance path, balancing on the ball of one foot. Garrett soon came out of the house with a shallow wooden bowl half filled with water, which he proceeded to carefully balance on her head until it sat still.
“Alright, I’ll be doing my reading then on the porch.” Garrett sat down in one of the porch chairs with a small book of his, while Nannade held her balance on the stake. The worst part about this punishment was that the better she did, the longer she would have to do it next time, but the worse she did, the more he increased every other punishment.
By the sundial Elissa had set up on the clearing, the better half of an hour had passed when Elissa came out of the hut in a quick stride. “Someone’s coming.” she said passing Garrett, then vanished down the road away from the hut.
He checked his clothes and looked over to Nannade. She begged him to call the punishment off with her eyes, but he didn’t seem to think it necessary. This was not breaking the masquerade according to him. Elissa returned shortly after with a weird man by her side. He was tall and a bit pudgy, with the air of a careful observer about him. His light brown hair hung down in fringes and his blue eyes had a cautious thing about them that she couldn’t put a finger on.
“You’ve got a visitor, Garrett.” Elissa said and went back to her study.
Garrett smiled when he saw the visitor. “Silver Feather. I was afraid you wouldn’t show up!”
“Purple Paw, I wouldn’t let you down on such an important task.” He answered him and they shared a handshake and a hug. Nannade understood what was going on.
Garrett led the visitor over to Nannade. “This is her. My latest endeavour.” He turned to Nannade, who couldn’t tilt her head for the risk of tipping the bowl. “This is Silver Feather of Sturreland. He will be granting you permission to accompany me on my contracts despite you not having call sign yet.”
Nannade peered from the corners of her eyes. “Understood. It’s a pleasure to meet you, colleague Silver Feather.”
Silver Feather laughed heartily. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, little girl, I'm no colleague of yours just yet.” Then he got to inspecting her balanced pose. Suddenly, keeping her equilibrium had become harder than ever.
He turned to Garetas again. “So this is for who you passed on the contract on Dranton’s head?”
“Yes. I would have loved to see the life snuffed out on his stupid face, but she is a little miracle, I tell you!” He looked Nannade directly in the eyes while Silver Feather inspected her from all sides. “Silver Feather will also oversee the establishment of your call sign and first mark of approval, should you pass the tests to come.”
Silver Feather had made a few rounds around Nannade when he nodded to himself. “So, Paw, show me!”
“What do you want to see?”
“Anything.”
“Okay.” Garrett turned to Nannade again. “Get down. Don’t spill a single drop!”
This was unfair. She only had managed twice before and it had been more luck than skill. She would still try. Slowly, she bent down the leg she was standing on and carefully reached for the ground with her other one, having to keep her head perfectly lever the entire time. Her foot reached the cool, moist forest floor. When she had secured her footing, she moved her other foot down as well. Stable, straight and with the bowl still level on her head, she stood there. Silver Feather’s face showed respect. Pride welled up within Nannade, she tried to bottle it, to not let it appear on her face.
“Not bad. But be honest, Paw, why a crolachan?”
Garetas smiled. “Let’s show him, Fleabag, get your bow.”
Nannade took the bowl off and tossed it away. Then she walked over to her bow and hip quiver. This was her favourite part of training. She climbed up on a low branch that already had hundreds of scratches from her claws, partially covered up by a cloth tied around it with the number one on it. Garetas had gotten a stack of old wooden shingles with the marks of many dozen arrows. Garetas went to his position and raised one shingle in his hand. He was ready, but she wanted to wait a little longer. Silver Feather stood close to Teacher, eager to see what kind of demonstration he would behold.
She felt the leather of her bow’s grip and ran her fingers along its string, absorbing its tautness. With only a claw she plucked the string a tiny bit and listened to its note. Then she tightened her grip on the bow and gave her Teacher the sign that she was ready. He took a swing and let go of the shingle, sending it flying high to the thinnest branches of the trees. It was reeling upwards through the air. Nannade moved the bow and its string to the quiver. She nocked an arrow. As she moved her left into an aiming position, she drew the string back with her right. She took aim, at that spot there, where the shingle would halt for a moment at its apex. She heard the strain of the string next to her ear, its ache to unleash its whistling scream. She let loose its song.
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FWOCK
The shingle tumbled backwards in a sudden jolt, arrow stuck in its wood. She hadn't heard it land yet, when the next one flew upwards.
FWOCK
The next one flew more sideward, obscured in its path by the occasional tree.
FWOCK
Garrett struck out with the next target and yelled “TWO!” just before sending it flying especially high.
Nannade jumped to her left, onto the trunk of another tree. She hit the trunk, right hand and both feet stretched out to the soft bark, softening the impact and granting her footing. With a single impulse, she pushed herself upwards to the next branch marked with the number two. She made it into a standing position on the branch, the claws on her toes digging into the soft bark while she took aim on the next board, sailing through the air away from her.
FWOCK
The next two flew at the same time. She hated this. One arrow on the string, the other between middle and ring finger of her right.
FWOCK
FWOCK
“THREE!”
She made another leap, landed on the next branch. The boards were flying in quick succession. She drew and loose an entire canon of arrows.
FWOCK FWOCK FWOCK FWOCK
Her quiver was empty.
SMOTT
The last board hit the moist forest floor with no arrow stuck to it. The last note had resounded in all its cacophonic atrocity.
“Why did that happen?” Garetas asked the girl standing on the branch around twenty feet above him.
“I ran out of arrows, Teacher.”
“And why did that happen?”
“Because I wasn’t prepared, Teacher. I should have checked the number of targets you brought.”
He nodded with content. “Very well. Come down from there.” He turned back to Silver Feather. “Is that enough explanation?”
Silver Feather was watching Nannade, observing each of her fingers and toes as they seemed to stick to the wood like steel nails on her descent from up high. “I think she’ll do you fine work, Paw.”
“Does that mean you’ll allow her?”
“Not yet, there remains one thing I’d like to see.” Silver Feather turned to Nannade. “Your cast book, Apprentice.”
Nannade handed it over to him. “Sure, but it got wet a few days ago, I haven’t written down that much.”
Silver Feather was going through it either way, until one of the spells seemed to catch his interest. “Well, I know that this one isn’t your teaching, Paw.” He showed a page to Garetas so that Nannade could not see it.
Garetas nodded. “That’s one of Elissa’s, simple scrying spell to detect wounds and injuries below skin. The girl often accompanies Elissa on her visits to the villagers.”
“Well enough, not a bad thing, just interesting.” Silver Feather handed the book back to Nannade. “I’ll allow her. I saw the contract, Paw, it’s just some evidence acquisition, no execution involved.”
Garetas grinned. “I wouldn’t try to break code by having her kill before her first mark of approval; not under your scrutinizing eyes.”
“So, now that it’s all taken care of, how about we two head to that inn down in that village? I booked a bed there and am itching to try their ale.”
Garetas looked to be most agreeing. “Sure, it’s been a while since I shared a drink with someone of the trade.”
“Hey wait!” Nannade shot between the two. “Elissa will go to Melanie’s tonight, you can’t leave me here alone, we were supposed to go through our gear together! The job is just two days away!”
Garetas waved her complaints away. “Oh we can do that tomorrow, relax.”
“That’s not the point. You promised we’d stick to the routine.”
He rolled his eyes and turned to Silver Feather “What can I do? Looks like I’ll be babysitting tonight.”
She just proved herself worthy, she would no longer take this attitude from him. “You don’t get to call me a baby anymore. For the sake of all living things, I’m fourteen!”
“Fine then, Fleabag, looks like I’ll have to watch you sharpen knives and oil ropes again, because apparently, you can’t do that by yourself.”
Nannade tried to remain calm. “Forget it, I’ll entertain myself!” and wandered off deeper into the forest. She would always be able to cool off there.
Clueless as he was, Garetas had to call out to her. “Wait, you have to tell me where you’re going!”
“The Glade, where else?” She sped up her pace to escape his stupid questions.
For the longest time of her stay in Sturreland, the Glade had been a place off-bounds for her outside of special occasions, until she had learned how to treat the spirits and the life force, as well as controlling her mind and her Mystic Gift. It was a place of power, a place where ley-lines crossed and the flowing life force they carried gathered, and so did the spirits. It cost them less energy to manifest there, allowing a free and unhindered communion with the land.
She came to the small stone bridge across the rift. Behind this bridge, the boundaries of this world became thinner, reality became malleable, distance and time blurred, but only those with the Mystic Gift and sufficient control of it could fully benefit from this “unreality”. She stepped across and let the energies wash over her, like a broad and strong current of warmth and coldness. She walked on to the altar on the slab in the middle and sat down on it. As she felt the life force flow through her, she attuned her voice and body and sang in its harmony, then she dared to open her mind, just the tiniest bit, and impressions stormed in. The feeling of feet on soil, the taste of succulent blades of grass between her teeth, the force of wind beneath her wings.
This most crucial of abilities for a mystic took her almost four years to realize. To be accepted by the land and its life force was important for a mystic, to feel as the animals, the plants and the very elements felt. As if on a road network for her mind, she could see long distances, feel distant places, talk to distant spirits – such as her friend, who felt closer now than ever before. She fully understood why the druids guarded these places so well and how they could keep control over such a vast land, while a university had trouble keeping a single city under control. The arcane was the magic of what one could grasp with a single hand. But the mystic was the magic of entire lands, people and continents. The arcane emerged and vanished with the snap of a finger, but spirits remained and remembered aeons. The magisters hid from the mystic. They were afraid because it could not be controlled with drawings of ink, the mystic could not be wrestled to the ground and forced to do one’s bidding, it needed to be bartered with, it needed charm and charisma, things that Garetas had about as much of as he had of motherly instincts. And now that she had managed to develop this skill, Teacher Garetas would take her away as soon as she had accepted a part of this land as her familiar.
She felt him coming up the slope, without Silver Feather, who most likely tried to stop him from messing with places of power. Silver Feather of Sturreland, that call sign told her that he received his first mark of approval here, and he most likely knew that Sturreland was even more stubborn than all other lands in Ackarom. The people were proud and steadfast in their way of living, the witches and druids of the Lodge were powerful, commanding the land and the people absolute, and the spirits reflected all that. Or did they enforce it? It mattered not. The city folk – like Garetas – would not understand either way. He had arrived by the Glade, interrupting her meditation. She kept her eyes closed, preferring to watch him through the forest’s eyes rather than her own.
“Hey, scrying to faraway places again?” He asked from across the bridge, wary of entering this place that was not for him.
“Obviously not anymore. What do you want?”
He seemed intimidated by her whenever she was or had recently been convening with the land. “You know, you could come along with us, learn a bit more about the trade, have some fun, get to know someone new.”
“I don’t want to disturb your buddy-time, I’ll stick to what I know, you go ahead and pour ale into your head.”
He came an inch closer, to the very edge of the bride. “Listen, I don’t want there to be bad blood between us. I know you’re angry because you’ll have to leave soon after the next festival dance. But know that you are by far not done with your training, that’s a dangerous world out there. You’ll see that soon enough when we do our first contract.”
“If it’s so dangerous, why take me there? Why keep me along? Just release me. Or are you afraid I’ll babble out all those juicy Hidden Hands secrets?”
His voice hardened. “You should be the one afraid of that. I’d hate to have to put you down, because that’s the punishment for failing to train an apprentice properly.”
She had to pause for a moment. The days when he told her that she would be free if she could kill him were over, she must be coming closer and he didn’t like that. “Would you, though?
His back straightened, as if he had just received a challenge. “I have been in this business longer than you have lived, young girl! Don’t question my resolve.”
Something came over her. A presence, a power, a friend. Like a mantle it covered her body and mind. She didn’t need to call for her friend anymore to enjoy the company. Here they could be together without anyone interrupting them.
“Are you sure I am questioning your resolve? Maybe I am questioning your abilities, old man.” She didn’t know why she had said that, but it had felt so good, maybe because she could observe his stupid face from so many different angles. It showed confusion, irritation and resignation
“I see you’d much rather be alone with the spirits for now; I’ll cool off with Silver Feather, maybe you can go take a dip in the cool spring to get that hot head of yours down to a proper level.” He turned around and went back down the slope.
She suppressed a giggle and turned her mind to her friend again. She cherished these twosome moments with an entity from far, faaar away, there were always such delicious secrets to indulge. No one would ever tear them apart, her friend promised her that.