After their initial bout with the Maedra, the party found themselves walking for quite a while. Once more, they traveled without encountering any foes. However, the tunnel itself began to twist and the angle down increased steadily. It wasn't an instant hill or a cliff, but a consistent decline further and further into the rock as they advanced through the dark. Helena's light spheres guided them along but eventually, they were forced to stop. Even with lightened packs, Helena's mana ran dry, Jake's body wasn't recovering as easily, and Lydia grew hungry. Darius acknowledged that he too was a bit tired, so they had set up a small camp and settled into the tunnel.
Unwilling to just sit and do nothing, Jake informed Helena of his Alert Rune magic and taught her how to use it. After replicating it and creating a rune on both ends of the tunnel to protect them, the group gathered around a fire rune she created and sat on their packs. Lydia was quick to pull out her food and was the first to start eating. Helena followed suit and Jake also decided to put something into his stomach. Darius, on the other hand, pulled out his maintenance kit and began to tend to his blades.
"You need to eat, Delmuth," Helena said as she unfurled the cloth around some small sandwiches. She stopped and looked at him, her glowing eyes staring straight through the black cloth at the Elf.
"I will. This comes first," Darius responded. She eyed him for a few seconds, her lips parting briefly as she considered saying something. However, she quietly shook her head and elected not to argue. She turned to her sandwich and began eating.
Seeing Darius dutifully begin to work over his swords, Jake found that he too wasn't as hungry as he thought. He placed down the cloth roll and turned his attention to his pack. He fished through the main compartment, pushing stuff around and digging until he found a similar kit to what Darius had. He then pulled his blades from his waist and set them both down in front of himself. Darius flashed him a look but only smirked before returning his attention to his own weapons. Helena, once more, shook her head.
"You're a Sandkin, aren't you boy?" Darius asked, his hands smoothly gliding over his blade with a soft white cloth. The Elf put a few drops of a slightly cloudy liquid onto the side of his blade, rubbed it in slowly with the cloth, and then ran his blade over a small whetstone. Jake watched for a few repetitions before he copied the sequence with the tools in his own kit.
"Sandkin?" Jake responded. Sure, he was from the desert. Was that what the Elves called his kind?
"Humans from the Sands of Hamaur. We call your kind Sandkin. Raised in the golden grasses beneath the merciless sun, living in the barren wastes of the world." Darius raised his blade to inspect its edge. Unsatisfied, he continued to sharpen it.
"I wouldn't call it a wasteland, but it's definitely empty of green stuff. No trees. No plants. Well, a few near the oasis but that's it. No forests." Now that he understood what the Elf was talking about, he began to speak more openly about his home. Though, his village didn't call the desert the 'Sands of Hamaur'.
"We call our country, Solar, or Land of the Sun. My ancestors weren't too creative, I guess." Jake sighed and rolled his eyes a bit at the thought of naming the place he lived in such a boring way. It was as if his ancestors were too lazy to come up with anything else. "How did you know I'm from there?"
Jake's skin had lost much of its color. While he was certainly less pale than the Oryx and other creatures with whiter complexions, his arms and chest were no longer the creamy bronze he was familiar with. After being in the Ravine for so long with no sun, that sun-kissed look to his body had faded partially. On top of that, his eyes were not the more natural dull blue of his people. His eyes were brown, like his Father's.
"Your hair, your tongue, and your talent," Darius listed. Three things that Jake personally didn't find unique to himself or his people, but to an outsider that was not the case. Jake didn't quite know it, but there were only two kinds of people in the Overworld with jet-black hair. Those from the Isles of Khyr and those from the Sands. On top of that, his natural accent was sharper and easier to pick up by a keen ear. Those who often traveled or interacted with his people would easily be able to know where he hailed from.
Lastly- his talent with the blade. While most humans were gifted with their hands, few had explicit talent with the sword. It could be learned and taught, yes. Styles could be ingrained into young boys and refined as they aged, but talent with the blade was not something Humans were generally blessed with. Elves were far more suited for it, as were Demons and a few other races. Humans were more known for their intelligence and use of a range of tools to fight- they were uncanny, graceless, and ferocious warriors that utilized anything in their reach to win.
Those from Solar, however, were an exception. Living within the sand meant few enemies and few predators. However, the predators they did face required more elegance and agility to deal with. Blades and Spears were the best weapons against these creatures. And so, as Humans pushed into the sands and began to inhabit the barren and unkind lands, those within developed a natural affinity for the blade. For Humans in other lands, the blade was a choice. For those in the sands, it was a necessity. Even Jake was given instruction on the sword as a boy. However, he was not expected to become a warrior and so his training was cut as he aged.
"It has only been a short time and you're picking up on how to fight in the Sword Singer ways very well," Darius said with a chuckle. He eyed his blade again, once more inspecting its edge. This time he was satisfied. So, he returned it to its sheathe and then reached for his second weapon. "Continue to work at it and refine the style."
"I'm not quite sure what you mean," Jake said with a frown. "You've only taught me the stance and one technique. Is that all there is to the style?" He asked.
Indeed. Thus far, Darius had instructed Jake on how to properly stand, walking him through only a short number of progressions, and he had just recently shown Jake a single skill to utilize in combat. During their battle, Jake had done fine with what he knew. But, there wasn't a lot of a foundation there. Jake had to tap into what he learned with Mur during the fight, too, as he felt there were gaps within the Sword Singer style. Those gaps weren't large by any means, but he found the style to be lacking.
"Not quite but there isn't much else to it. Remember your role in the fight, Jake," Darius started, his hands manipulating the now damp cloth over the edge of his sword. "You are a Sword Singer. You are to fight with your blades but assist others with your magic. The techniques you learn and utilize are not meant to be used over and over. The expectation is to fight one or two opponents and then use magic to clear out the surrounding space."
"That doesn't quite help when the Maedra tend to number around fifty," the boy huffed, mumbling quite a bit as he stared at his reflection in his blade. His hair had grown longer than before. He would either need to cut it or find a better hairstyle.
"Repetition, boy, and don't be so glued to doing certain motions or certain techniques," Darius stopped his work and then stuck out his blade toward Jake. "Think about it. What is the goal of a fight?"
"To kill the enemy," Jake answered without hesitating, his eyes focused down the length of Darius's blade as he stared into the golden eyes of the Elf. Darius nodded and then tilted his sword up.
"Exactly. Kill the enemy," Darius echoed. "Style. Technique. Rhythm. Agility. Flexibility. Strength. Your swords. Magic. These are all things that play a part to achieve that end. But, in the heart of it all, the sole goal is to kill your foe. No matter what it takes. No matter how you do it. As long as they die and you live, style and technique are secondary." Darius set his blade down in his lap, cleaned it once more, and then began to sharpen it.
"Look at the Maedra. They don't follow a style when they fight-" Darius started. Jake huffed midway through the Elf's sentence.
"They're beasts. Of course they don't," the boy rumbled. Darius chuckled.
"And?" He spat. "Sometimes to kill a beast, you need to become one." He paused, letting those words sink into Jake's mind. The boy stopped his hands and stared at his reflection, the words echoing in his mind. He had thought of that exact thing a few times now. To hear it be said out loud hit him a bit differently.
"Elven sword styles acknowledge that the battles you face will never be the same. The enemies will be different sizes, will move in different ways, and will come at you at different speeds. Some will use clubs, some swords, some will be mages. You will never come across two foes that will attack you the exact same way. Thus, we teach to encourage fluidity, change, and quick thinking." As he explained, Darius finished his second blade and sheathed it. He set both to the side as he began to dig for a wrapping of food.
"You should tell him, Delmuth." Helena spoke up all of a sudden, and Lydia peeked up from her collection of nuts as well. Darius sighed and rolled his eyes.
"Tell him what? There is much he needs to learn but I won't have enough time to teach him everything." Darius sighed and plucked a sandwich from the cloth, sinking his teeth through the bread quickly as he began to eat. Judging from how fast he was chewing, they didn't have much time left to rest.
"If Sword Singers use magic with their sword work, why am I not doing the same?" Jake asked. Darius gave him a stern look for a moment but after glancing toward Helena his expression softened. Darius swallowed his food, chased it with water, and then rested his forearms against his knees.
"Your blessings," he started. "They're magic based, right?"
"They are," Jake answered.
"One from the Dragon Goddess, Ferynith. The other the Arachkin Goddess, Rastua. Rastua's kin are known for their tough physical enhancement magics, while the Dragons... Well not much is known about their kind except for them being the greatest Magical Beasts to ever exist." Darius cracked his neck before looking at Jake. "Being an Apostle of Ferynith is enough to tell anyone that your magical abilities are far more potent than anyone else in the room. I suspect you are even better than Helena, which alone is a feat."
Jake looked over to Helena, but she just stared at him. No smile. No change in her expression. Almost as though she was eyeing him to see what he would say.
"Your magic skills will take you far, further than any swordsman. However, every mage worth their salt knows that there are limits to what magic can do. Correct?" Darius stared at Jake, pausing as he asked his question to fill his mouth with sustenance.
Jake pressed his lips together, his eyes lowering towards his hands. While it was true that his magic was a cut above those he had met so far, Helena's appearance, along with the other Mages he had come across in the Library, told him that he wasn't alone in his abilities. There were hundreds, thousands of other skilled magicians out in the Overworld. Some were likely well-known, others kept to themselves or hid from open sight. What those mages knew, what spells they could cast, what limits they had- those variables were all a mystery to Jake. He could gauge his own strength against monsters like the Maedra. That was easy. But to weigh his abilities against that of someone like Helena? A mage like her, who has lived for an unknown amount of time, traveled for an unknown amount of miles, and fought dozens of different unknown creatures- it was impossible.
But, Darius was correct when he mentioned that all Mages knew their limits. Jake's magic wasn't flawless. He wasn't a particularly speedy caster and his abilities were very linear at the moment. He had a range of spells he could utilize and a deep pool of mana, but that didn't make him invincible. Even he acknowledged that fighting the Maedra on his own was foolish. Strong, sure, but he always felt more comfortable when he had warriors to lean on for support.
"Yea, that's correct," he finally answered. Darius nodded and finished chewing.
"You know that. I know that. Helena knows that. But what makes you different is what is sitting next to you." Darius jutted a finger out, pointing towards the daggers set by Jake's left leg. The boy threw a glance toward them as he bit into his sandwich. "You're a swordsman, and a mage," Darius said with a faint chuckle. "You can fill the roles of both as long as you put enough practice into your skills."
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"Is it too difficult of a task? If Elves do it, why can't others?" Jake was a bit confused as to why his ability was a unique or special case. The way Darius had put it, Jake was led to believe that the number of Battle Mages was severely limited in number. He could understand why that would be true, as juggling magic and swordplay would take a massive amount of focus, time, mana, and mental fortitude. Something Jake doubted a lot of people had, to be honest.
"Elves can do it. Humans can do it. Dwarves and Halflings can do it. Any mage with any sort of competence and good training with a blade can do it. However, very few achieve the title of Battle Mage like you might be thinking. Most are just swordsmen who know magic." Darius let out a laugh as he finished and then filled his mouth with food, chewing and swallowing quickly, so he could continue to speak.
"Sword Singers were few. Very few. They were a class of Elves that were unrivaled among our numbers, and they tended to hail only from Pureblood families as their mana was more potent. To be a Sword Singer, you needed to have a certain level of power with your magic and you spent almost the entirety of your life training both with the sword and with mana. It was a harsh lifestyle but the Sword Singers were held in very high regard. The majority of my kind, and the same with every other race, tend to lean towards the traits that they are good at. Or they simply learn from their ancestors and carry on the torch." Darius spoke smoothly and clearly, taking a few pauses to eat. Jake kept his ears open, listening intently to the Elf as he shared his knowledge.
"What separates a Battle Mage is the competency of your two skill sets. You must be strong with both magic and the blade. You cannot be mediocre in one and overly strong in the other. It is a balance, a dance. Rely on one too much, and you might as well give up the other." Darius extended his hands as if they were balancing plates on a scale, and he tipped that scale slowly in both directions to act as a visual for Jake to better understand what the elf meant.
"Your magic is here- at a high level. You could ditch your swords for good and never have to even think about grabbing them again, and you would not lose a day. However, to achieve the level of Sword Singer, you must balance that scale. You must increase your abilities with the sword to match your Magical prowess." Darius leveled his hands and then turned his palms inwards. He placed his palms together, pointing his fingertips toward Jake.
"Do that, and with your blessings, you will be a terror for anything you come across," Darius narrowed his eyes briefly as he spoke, then he returned to finish his sandwich.
"So..." Jake mumbled for a second. Darius hadn't quite answered his question. "Is it the lack of mana? Or the lack of training and time?" He reworded his question, but the answer came not from Darius, but instead from his left.
"A bit of both, I think," Helena said. She tapped at her face, cleaning her face after her meal, and then she took a sip of her water before giving him a light smile. "How many years do Humans have before they reach adulthood?" The way she spoke was almost like she wasn't human herself. That wouldn't surprise Jake. Not with those eyes.
"We become adults when we turn sixteen." Jake thought of his home village's customs and the rituals that took place at the end of each summer season to celebrate those turning sixteen that year.
"Oh, well that's a bit older than most answers I have heard," Helena said with a little hum. "Most say fourteen. Do you know why?"
"No," Jake shook his head.
"Your life spans are short. Most humans don't live to see forty. Your kind has a much shorter amount of time to spend deciding what sort of life you wish to live, and you have a short amount of time to learn the skills necessary for that kind of life. Add in the requirement of finding and starting a family, tending to homes, and other things, and the Human life span is just barely enough for your kind to learn, breed, and then die.
"Humans' affinity for magic is drastically lower than any other race. Add in your short life spans and choosing to be a magician as a Human is practically a death sentence for anything else you may wish to achieve. All of your time will be spent reading, experimenting, and thinking. Human Mages who become Adventurers are extremely rare and tend to only be Nobles or Prodigies who can either afford good teachers or have the mana capacity to catch the eye of an older Mage. The rest will never even touch magic in their entire lives, except of course it happens by accident."
Jake stared at Helena as she spoke, and then he once again looked down at his hands. He stuffed the last bit of his sandwich into his mouth and then quickly chased it with a mouthful of water. He had seen so little of the world thus far in his life that he was beginning to feel... starved. The lack of information of even his own race made him frustrated. How was he to become a powerful magician, a strong adventurer, and someone worth leaning on if he didn't know the most basic of things? He wasn't upset at his village for lacking the ability to teach him, but he was upset that he himself hadn't taken the time or effort to learn about the Overworld.
There were so many gaps in his knowledge because of how hard he was leaning into his magic abilities that he truly felt like a child compared to those around him. Even Lydia, the small Halfling, likely knew more than him when it came to common knowledge. It was disheartening and felt like a kick to the stomach. What else did he not know? What other information was out there that he should know, but lacked? He didn't even know what questions to ask to find that information out!
"You look overwhelmed," Helena said suddenly. Jake snapped out of his thoughts and looked up to see all three of them staring at him. "Something wrong?"
Jake clamped his teeth together, his jaw tensing up as he lowered his eyes to the fire rune at the middle of their little circle. When fighting the Maedra with the Oryx, Jake felt alive. He felt like there was nothing he couldn't do because of how heavily they relied on him. They admired his magic, and they were in awe of his ability to eliminate large numbers of Maedra with little to no help. In the Operation with Pharos Squad, he had pretty much saved the day and gave the Oryx an opportunity to fight again. It was his magic that had allowed that. It was his hard work and his strength with magic that had made that happen. It made him feel... special.
But the more he learned about the world beyond the Ravine and his home village, the less that feeling remained. There were mages like Helena. There were Elven Warriors like Darius. Mur and his brother, Wyicks, had both come from beyond. Hulgrok and his assistant. Even his Father and his party came from beyond the village. Chul, too.
The world was so large, so vast. There was so much knowledge, so many people. Jake was just one person amongst them all, and what made him different? His blessing from Lady Ferynith had granted him magic, but without that he was nothing more than a human with no skills. Sure, he was okay with the sword. Yet his level of skill with it was barely good enough to handle a few Maedra. A knight or a Warrior who had trained from a far younger age would be leagues ahead of him by now. And that wasn't just one or two- but all the knights and warriors out there who had done so. How many was that?
Even with his magic. Jake was competent, but how many other mages from the Overworld had been training for longer, achieving greater things than he had? How many could do what he was doing within the Ravine, with less effort? Across the populace of the Overworld, Jake could bet his life that he was nothing compared to some forces of nature spread out all over the world, fighting, training, and learning things he couldn't even fathom.
And he had the guts to let just one or two victories get to his head. He had the gall to think of himself as anything or anyone worthy of being heralded as someone special. It made him sick the more he thought about it.
"I need to get better," Jake muttered. He gripped his canteen with both hands, his forearms flexing as he squeezed the object. "In both magic, and as a swordsman," he added. Darius and Helena exchanged looks, but before either could say anything, Jake spoke first.
"Since tumbling into the Ravine, I haven't thought much of anything else. I've put all of my time and focus into becoming a better mage. I've practiced swordsmanship with Mur but never actually put much into it, as I always believed my magic would be able to carry me along..." Jake trailed off for a moment, collecting his thoughts as he relaxed the grip he had on his canteen.
"The Maedra killed my closest friend. The friend who introduced me to Magic. A friend who gave me a chance to become an Adventurer and I've put everything into learning how to make up for that. But, the more I fight, the more I learn..." He paused, biting the inside of his lip as he recalled the faces of the few friends he had made thus far, the people he had met and fought beside. "...the more I understand that I know so very little." He let out a sigh and uncapped his canteen, taking a brief drink from it.
"And I've also come to learn that there's more to fighting than my own desires. The Maedra are a powerful enemy. They aren't that smart, but their power and numbers make them unbelievably dangerous. They can overwhelm even the best Oryx Warriors, and knowing that I understand my ability gives me the chance to help them. But it goes beyond those little fights," Jake looked off to his right. His eyes peered down the long, seemingly unending tunnel they would need to go down soon.
"The Maedra are an enemy that I will need to extinguish if I want to truly protect those close to me, and achieving that end requires knowledge far beyond that of just magic." He turned his eyes back to the group, looking both at Helena and Darius as he spoke. "I need to be a powerful fighter, a smart tactician. I need to trust those beside me, behind me, and in front of me. But, there is more to life than battle, and I lack even more there." Jake grimaced as his eyes lowered to the fire rune.
"I was never taught the basics of the world. I don't know how many races are out there, the different names of them all. Heck, I haven't even seen a map! I only know of my village, the Ravine, and I've seen the green across the massive gap. I've heard of the ocean, heard of Elves, read about Seraphim and Myr. I've read and heard stories of a great many things, but it all means nothing to me. It's all just a fairy tale..." Jake set down his canteen beside him and closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking a few breaths as he focused his mind.
"I want to learn. I want to know. I want to experience as much as this world has to offer. As an adventurer, and as a person. Whenever I hear of things beyond the Ravine and my village, it hurts because I don't understand. I feel like I'm missing a piece that I should have found already, that I should already know. When I fail at a task or ask a question, it makes me wonder about just how much else I don't know. And it terrifies me because I worry that the unknown will kill another friend of mine and that I'll be incapable of stopping it."
Helena glanced over to Darius, but the Elf was already moving. He stood up and took a step over to Jake, kneeling down and placing a firm hand on the boy's shoulder. Jake clenched his teeth and his hands curled into fists.
"No one is perfect, Jake. We don't all have the answers to everything, and no one expects us to. You do the best with what you have and what you know, and that's all anyone will ever ask of you." Darius let go of Jake's shoulder, moving his hand up to place it on top of the boy's head. "So far, you've done well. I've heard stories from Mur and a few other Warriors. I heard about the Operation, and I've seen you fight first-hand. If it's just recently that you've come into your strength, then I can only imagine what you will become if you continue to practice and hone your skills."
Jake closed his eyes, tilting his head down as he listened to the Elf.
"Self-doubt is expected, especially in the beginning. Even I had similar doubts and worries when I was young," Darius softened his tone and let out a chuckle as he finished. He pulled his hand back and tapped Jake's shoulder to get the boy's attention. Jake hesitated, but opened his eyes and looked up at Darius. Helena was giving him a faint smile, too.
"This life isn't easy. Nothing you ever learn or come into will be simple. You'll have to work for every little bit and the fighting never ends. But, the friends you make along the way..." Darius turned his eyes over towards Helena and Lydia, smirking as they looked back to him. Then, he looked at Jake. "...they make it all worthwhile." Darius pushed up to his feet and then returned to his pack.
"You can't save the world, Jake. No one can." Darius nodded to the others as he packed up his food and then worked to return his blades to his waist. "You'll never be able to kill all the Maedra within this place, but you can do your part and that is all you can do." He set his back upright, then turned to face Jake.
"Right now, your focus is becoming a Sword Singer. You have the magic. You have the talent. You have the heart. Now, you just need the practice." Darius tugged at his pack, lifting it and sweeping his arms through the straps. Jake looked down at his own hands once more and then went to work packing up. As he did so, Darius continued to talk.
"You are a human with a short lifespan. Your kind tends to have little mana worth noting and your kind has very little talent with the sword. But you, Apostle of the Dragonkin and Child of the Sands, have the two traits that the majority of your kind lack. You have Magic bestowed upon you by one of the strongest magical beasts known to history. You have blood in you that aches to pulse in the heat of battle, with hands very familiar with the contours of a blade's hilt." Jake finished putting on his pack and stood up to meet Darius's burning gaze. The Elf was smirking.
"To find you within the Ravine, the best place for you to hone both of those skills is nothing short of a miracle. This is your hunting ground, boy. This is your cauldron. Your forge. And I'm going to make sure you come out of this place not just a skilled warrior, but a Sword Singer even my ancestors would be proud of."
The pep talk was enough to light a fire in Jake's core. The boy felt his vision widen, felt his pulse quicken. He felt energized and motivated. If what Darius was saying was true, then Jake truly had his fate forward in his hands. He could achieve anything with the cards he had been dealt. As long as he remained vigilant to learning, carved his way forward, and developed his skills to their peak- there was nothing he wouldn't be able to achieve. The Maedra were just a stepping stone, and moving beyond the Ravine into the world beyond would be nothing near impossible. All he had to do was keep trying.
"Let's go." Once everyone was ready, Helena cracked the fire rune and then canceled her alert runes. Darius tightened the straps on his pack and then stepped off. Jake, feeling himself a bit too much, hurried to fall in step with the Elf.
Though, his excitement and hunger to develop himself further was something he would only be able to keep up for so long. Since his awakening with Darius in the cavern, neither he nor Helena or Lydia had shared with Jake their destination. That key detail would prove to be something Jake would wish he had asked for sooner. For as they walked further and further into the tunnel, the unease creeping up his spine would only grow worse and worse. The perpetual stench of rot would only become more prevalent.
And Jake would find himself having to make a decision that would drastically alter the course of his life for a second time.