Novels2Search
The Book of Spite
Chapter 5: I Want a Sword

Chapter 5: I Want a Sword

   It was the final night before reaching the capital, and throughout the day Zeek had made substantial progress with the strengthening technique. He hoped to master it by morning. And he was already feeling the effects; his body was a bit lighter and quicker than before. No one would notice, but he took a quick walk through the forest before the sun went down and found he was running faster than before, tiring less quickly, and jumping higher. Nothing to make him superhuman, at least not yet.

The book indicated that strengthening would scale proportional to mana quality, meaning there would be a world of difference between a beginner mage and an archmage. It wouldn’t tell him how much a difference, exactly, just that he should expect a gradual increase as he made his way through the mana tiers. It also explained that the mana tiers would advance more slowly the higher he got, something he fully expected.

But the real interesting event was when he sat by the fire and looked around the camp with mana vision. Penny had the same immobile dull glow around her stomach, indicating she hadn’t unlocked her mana. Once the core began rotating, she would be at mana tier 1.

Archi’s mana was a bit brighter than Zeek’s and flowed quicker, but it only traveled from the core to both of Archi’s arms. At first, Zeek thought he was a full mage, according to the book’s classifications. But a subsequent reference to the book explained Archi was likely at the higher end of the journeyman tier. Unibrow fell somewhere in the middle of the tier, but still not much higher than Zeek.

The whole thing was odd. Why exactly were they so weak? Or was it actually very difficult to advance in tiers and Zeek just had a knack for it? And why did mana not circulate into their legs or heads? He had no way to ask or find a reference, since Archi had told him not to speak of mana manipulation again. It also struck him as strange that Archi had to touch him to see whether he’d unlocked his mana. If he had mana vision, it would only take a glance to see how far Zeek had progressed.

He retired to the carriage early and stared at the book. He found himself muttering questions. “Why can I only learn magic from you?” The book responded by flipping to a new set of pages explaining the basis for some of the rules…emphasis on some.

Rules:

1. Do not worship the gods

Consult with Orthan family for details.

Zeek clicked his tongue. He’d never heard of the Orthan family. And he couldn’t tell Archi about the book given the mysteries surrounding it. He’d have to wait till he reached the capital and try to figure it out on his own. Maybe he’d get lucky and one of these Orthans was living there.

2. You must follow instructions in the book

Training program is designed specifically for the recipient of the Book of Spite. Deviation from the plan can result in a less capable mage.

That rule was easier to understand. Who didn’t think their method was the best? So far, the tasks fell into one of two categories, either magic techniques or what Zeek considered character-building tasks. The exposition on “spite the whole world” clearly meant the book wanted a mage who carved their own path. He did find it annoying the book was trying to control who he became, but so far it hadn’t asked him to do anything he was morally against. Penny did have it coming, and the kid too. What would he do if it told him to do something evil? He wasn’t sure. In fairness, when he asked for an explanation, the book provided one. He hadn’t asked for any reason behind the bizarre early tasks because he thought they were amusing. Maybe his personality was suited quite well for this method?

3. Only learn magic from the book

Training program is designed to create pure mages with an emphasis on avoiding sorcery.

“What is sorcery?” Zeek wondered aloud, and the book happily answered.

Definition: Sorcery is the use of premade models to cast spells. This training method is severely limited on the amount of spells a mage can learn, and results in weaker mages overall. Long-term use of sorcery inhibits mana manipulation through overreliance on models. Pure magic relies on the mage manipulating mana to impose their will on nature. The amount of spells, and their power, is wholly dependent on skill and only limited by imagination.

Penny walked into the carriage as Zeek read the definition. He nearly jumped as she leaned over and stared at his lap.

“What’s so interesting that you’re always staring at your legs?” she asked.

“Uh…just lost in thought,” Zeek replied as she raised an eyebrow.

“You’re an awful liar all of a sudden. Are you losing your touch?”

“Ah, you wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Anyhow, you’ve been talking to Unibrow about the academy, right?” Zeek quickly changed the subject as Penny took her seat. It was dusk now but there was enough light to see each other.

“His name is Uno,“ she huffed, “and yes, we have been talking about the academy. I wanted an idea of what we could expect. Didn’t you talk to Archi about it?"

“No, we were talking about other things mostly. Did Unibr…Uno mention anything called spell models?” Zeek asked.

“Yes, he said we’d get a few once we unlocked our mana. Most people learn to use one or two spells by the end of their first year and that determines their affinity,” she explained.

“But what are spell models?”

“Runes carved into manastone that mages use to cast spells. You might have noticed Archi and Uno have bracelets they wear around with fingernail-sized stones surrounding them. Those stones are their spells. The more experienced the mage, the more stones they can use and the smaller they are. Uno said the ones we’ll get are the size of a book and the thickness of a hide,” Penny answered.

“Archi mentioned the library is filled with books explaining different spells, are those different?”

“I don’t know much more, to be honest. Uno just said the library would have lots of spell models and older books on magic. He encouraged me to visit there early on in the first year and see if any spells suited me. He told me a unique affinity is valuable and often safer than the basic ones provided by the academy,” Penny said.

“Archi told me the same thing. I’ll have to visit the library when I get settled. Did he give you any suggestions for an affinity?” Zeek asked.

“No, but I was hoping to either learn enchanting or some type of non-combat magic.”

“Daughter of a blacksmith after all.“

Penny smiled. “What about you? Some type of herbologist or healer?”

“Like Granny? No way. My bedside manner’s worse than hers. I’ll keep my options open till I can spend time in the library.”

Penny’s soft smile warped into a smirk at Zeek’s comment. “You aren’t going to be a mischief-maker in the capital, are you?”

Zeek put on a faux-offended face and scoffed. “Of course not! When have I ever caused mischief? Maybe a spot of trouble, a lick of adventure, a drop of fun at others’ expense. But no mischief.”

Penny giggled. “I forgot you were so full of yourself.”

“Well, you should have kept hanging out with me then,“ Zeek replied without thinking. Penny got quiet for a moment, looking more serious than before. Perhaps even a bit sad?

“Maybe we were unfair to you in Hake. Maybe…I was unfair,” she whispered.

“It’s alright. Until a few days ago, Hake was the world to you. It’s the same for all the kids there, and I was used to it. But now the world’s bigger, we may not go back for a long time,” Zeek said.

“I know, and I’m terrified, honestly. Aren’t you scared about going to the capital and becoming a mage?” she asked.

Zeek leaned back in his seat and rested his head against the side of the carriage. “I was going to leave eventually anyhow. Magic was never part of my plan. I had no clue what I’d do or where I’d go. But I always had this dream of finding something I enjoyed, like becoming an adventurer, and seeing the world. Returning with a family or friends to visit Granny. I guess I should be scared, but I’m really just ready to move on.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Penny watched him stare out the window as she replied, “I never took you for the family type.”

“Doesn’t everyone want a family?”

“Where we’re from they do. But Zeek with a wife and kids, it’s hard to picture,” she answered.

“I never mentioned kids!” Zeek said quickly, causing Penny to giggle again. “I’d just like other people to spend time with than Granny. People who grow old with me and share adventures. Granny was old when I met her.”

“So you want an adventurer wife,“ Penny pressed when she noticed Zeek was blushing a bit.

“Now you’re twisting my words. I’d like the adventure first,” Zeek said hurriedly.

“It’ll be tough to find a wife if you keep slapping the backsides of women you meet,“ Penny said.

“It’ll be tough to have kids if you keep kicking all the men you meet in the crotch,“ Zeek answered. Penny burst out laughing, and Zeek started grinning as she held her belly and wiped a tear from her eye.

“Thanks,“ Penny said.

“For what?”

“For a laugh.”

“Anytime.“

Penny finally calmed down and bid him goodnight as Zeek returned to his practice. The clock was ticking, as the book said, and he needed to complete the mana strengthening technique before reaching the capital. He spent another late night sitting in the carriage focusing his attention inward. He could feel himself getting better at directing mana into his muscles, but he had to take breaks when he noticed he was sweating.

That was the struggle with this technique—if he kept it up too long, it felt like he’d gone for a run. By the time he fell asleep he was exhausted and his muscles ached. He left the curtain by his head open so the dawn would wake him and drifted off to sleep.

Despite his efforts, it wasn’t the sunlight that disrupted his sleep but the sound of knights moving around the camp. The military men tended to their armor and horses before the morning heat arrived. Some stood to the side with wooden swords and sparred or practiced forms. Zeek poked his head out the window and watched them. Penny was still asleep, like a normal person, wrapped in the blanket her family had sent along.

As he watched the knights go about their drills, he stretched his body and the previous day’s aches dulled. When he got his mana flowing back into his muscles, the aches disappeared completely. But something about the technique felt off, and the book confirmed it.

He still wasn’t doing something right.

Thinking back to yesterday, he realized he’d made most of his progress when traipsing through the forest. Suddenly he realized the technique was a practical one, just like his mana vision. He hadn’t noticed before since he was staring at mages when practicing mana vision. To finish the technique, he had to use his body in conjunction with mana.

He slipped out of the carriage and approached two of the knights near the edge of the camp. One was younger, and clearly the student. He was sweating and panting as he held his sword in front of him. Neatly trimmed brown hair and a square face stared at his opponent. Zeek recognized the second knight as the leader of the outfit.

He had an aged face with skin like coarse wood and scars to match. His body was covered in corded muscle, with even more scars, which gave him a disjointed appearance. He looked like someone stuck an old guy’s head on a mangled young body. The older man wasn’t panting, instead standing straight-backed with the sword held calmly towards the younger knight. Zeek sat on a log just outside their circle as they clashed.

The younger knight was slightly quicker, but not as strong and nowhere near as skilled. The older knight hardly moved, but dodged, redirected, or parried every attack. His eyes watched the young man but his body wasted no movement as he met each attack. He’d hit the younger man back, but only to point out a mistake in form or an error in attack. Zeek almost felt sorry for the young knight, who never even got close to surprising the old man or scoring a hit. He just wore himself out waving his sword around. In a few minutes they finished and the younger one set down the wooden sword, thanking the older knight for his instruction.

Zeek took the chance to speak. “Would you mind teaching me a few things?” he asked the older man, as the younger left.

“Oh? A mage who wants to learn the sword?”

“Is that strange?” Zeek wondered.

“War mages have to take a self-defense class, but only one or two in the kingdom have ever learned to fight,” the old man said.

“Really? Why?”

“It’s difficult to fight and concentrate on casting spells, so I’m told. It’s the knights’ job to keep the mages safe,” the old man explained.

“What happens if they run out of mana?” Zeek asked.

“They rest while the knights fight.”

“Sounds rough being a knight,“ Zeek remarked.

The old man laughed, propping the wooden sword over his shoulder. “I suppose so. Why do you want to learn?”

“Seems like a good skill to have,“ Zeek answered.

The old man nodded. “It is. Swordsmanship teaches more than just fighting. It hones the body, teaches balance, patience, analysis, and diligence. Traits every person should have.”

“So you’ll teach me?” Before the knight answered, Archi walked over to observe. They exchanged a look as Archi frowned and took Zeek’s seat on the log.

“On one condition. You’ll have a few weeks before classes start, and our knights do bootcamp during one of those weeks. I’ll start teaching you, but you have to come complete the bootcamp,” the old man replied.

Zeek turned to Archi. “Will I have time for that?”

“I suppose so...”

“Then I agree, old man,“ Zeek grinned.

The old knight laughed again. He had a deep, gravelly voice but his tone was friendly. “Old man, eh? These kids only call me sir. Name’s John Sampson. Now bring that wooden sword over here.”

Zeek approached him with the practice sword. It was a bit larger than the ones the knights carried. He squared his shoulders and held it with both hands in front of him, with the “blade” facing John.

“Good attempt to mimic what you saw, but your stance is wrong. Do you know what type of sword that is?”

Zeek shook his head.

“It’s called a hand-and-a-half sword, or bastard sword for short. It’s different from what we carry around,“ John said, gesturing over his shoulder to a pile of gear on the edge of the dueling ring. “Knights use a one-handed sword and a shield because they’re taught to fight in groups. The sword’s for attacking and the shield’s used in concert with their comrades to increase defense. Why do you think we do that?” John asked.

“To defend mages?” Zeek answered.

“Correct! But you wouldn’t be fighting in part of a group like them. Where are the knights if you have to swordfight?”

“Somewhere else?” Zeek guessed.

“Dead,“ John replied with a stern look.

“Old John, it’s too early in the morning to be so intense.”

John grinned. “Bit of a pisser, aren’t you, kid. I like that. Now back to the questions, what type of sword should a mage use?”

“A sword for fighting alone?”

“Correct again. The sword you have there is pretty good for it, but it takes some strength to be effective. A good dueling sword is a similar length with a slight curve to help it flow more in one-on-one combat. You could also use short swords, scimitars, or even daggers. Anything that lets you move quickly. Why would you have to move quickly in battle?” John asked.

“Uh, it’s more effective?” Zeek guessed.

“Yes, and everyone around you is dead. So you better be fighting and running away,” John replied.

“Sounds like a good way to get stabbed in the back,“ Zeek quipped.

John nodded. “That’s right. Now that I’ve told you what the kingdom wants me to, here’s another piece of advice. If someone’s close enough to use a sword against you, running’s a surefire way to get killed. So you better damn well know how to fight and win before retreating.”

“It feels like you’ve given this speech before,“ Zeek said.

“I have. And the people who didn’t listen are now all dead. Which is why I have to ride my ass raw into farmland to find country boy mages in haystacks. But if you learn from me, that won’t be you. Now hold your sword again, but do it the way I show you,” John said as he walked a circle around Zeek.

The first few minutes he corrected Zeek’s stance, jabbing him occasionally with his wooden sword when Zeek had a foot or shoulder out of place. Once he was satisfied with Zeek’s stance, he showed him two strikes. First was an overhand strike, raising the hilt of the sword to Zeek’s eye level and bringing it down fast to his waist. Second was a stab where Zeek had to draw the hilt in towards his hip then thrust it out in front of him. John constantly corrected any mistakes he made as Zeek began to sweat from practicing the swings.

“Don’t extend your arms fully in the stab. If you lock your arms, it’s easier to knock your sword away, and your arms will feel the vibrations from the hit. Always leave a bit of slack in your elbows so you can adjust without losing grip.”

Zeek was starting to pant at the thirty-minute mark as John continued.

“You’re focusing too much on putting power into that downward swing. Focus on control first, power comes second. Bring the sword to the height I showed you and end exactly where I did. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.”

After an hour of practicing the swings, a few of the knights were glancing over. Penny was up now. She ate her breakfast then took a seat next to Archi. Unibrow was still snoozing in the carriage; he tended to sleep in late. As Zeek’s arms began to ache, John changed the exercise.

“Now practice using the strikes on me. When you do an overhead strike, I’ll block. When you stab, I’ll parry. Don’t worry about trying to get a hit in, just vary which strikes you do and focus on making them flow together,” John instructed as he took up a position across from Zeek.

Zeek suddenly understood how helpless the younger man had felt. No matter how hard he hit or how fast he stabbed, he never got close to striking John. It felt like the old knight knew what he was doing before he moved, and his strength was many levels higher. After a few minutes Zeek got into a rhythm and he started practicing the mana strengthening technique. Instantly his fatigue faded away and he felt power in his arms again.

It was just a bit of extra power at first, and John nodded happily at Zeek’s strength. But as he flowed through the forms and rotated his mana inside, he felt more. If he infused mana as he started his strike, it got faster and stronger. Timing was required to make the technique function properly. His strength increased and his speed spiked as the timing began coming naturally.

Suddenly, he knew he’d learned the basic technique as he stabbed forward quickly enough that John had to turn his waist to avoid it. Following the stab, Zeek pulled the sword back and raised it above his head, surging mana into his arms, back, and legs.

His body felt energized as he began his swing, bringing the wooden sword down faster than before. It smacked against John’s, which he held with both hands now, and snapped in half. Zeek released his mana and started gasping immediately as he noticed a few of the knights were cheering.

John was laughing with his belly.

“Strong as an ox, kid! You could make a fine swordsman with some training. Now go clean up before we head out. I’ll be seeing you in a week.” John grinned.

Zeek set down the sword and thanked him, turning towards the forest. His steps felt light as he began naturally infusing each footfall with mana. A broad smile on his face, he raced towards a nearby stream and leapt in.