Eight months had passed since she came here. Now Astrid was in much better shape, better than she ever was. During the morning training she went from running close to two hundred meters to almost seventeen kilometres; she could now do dozens of pull-ups, push-ups and burpees without rest. She felt better with no sugar in her system, she was an addict and did not know it until she left it.
Her training had toned her body. Although it was not the classical female warrior body she expected to obtain. When she started to train, she thought she was going to become a lean and agile; acrobatic and silent as an assassin should be. The outcome had been a little different than expected and she rather preferred it this way; she felt comfortable on her body for once, she felt strong and strength was what she desired.
Her body had bulked up a little; her arms and shoulders strong with clearly define muscle, her legs had grown much more in comparison, with more strength than she expected.
Her torso and hips where nowhere as defined as she thought they would be, as the rest of her body had become. As time went by Eigil changed her diet and exercise routine to suit her and in the last month, she had gained a bit of a belly and her hips had widened significantly. She looked closer to a weight lifter than the usual assassin from fantasy or plays.
She continued her routine through the months. Most of the first fights against the guards were close, she defeated about sixty percent of them by luck or because they underestimated her. She took down most of them by disarming them and placing her swords on their necks, some were more resilient and she had to injure their hands or legs but she kept her promise to Helena, no more blows to the neck.
Where the guards to win Eigil promised one gold coin, money she would have to pay in time. If she lost, he made her go through drills for an extra hour at night leaving her exhausted and with less sleep time. As time went on, she began to win by a bigger margin and a crowd began to arrange twice a week to see the combat. Previously defeated opponents usually came back for a rematch and after the first month of fighting Eigil started to accept said rematches with the condition that they were to be held after she had fought at least one other guard that day.
At the end of her eighth month, she was able to beat two of the guards at once and had to go easy on them because Eigil prohibited the use of powers.
“Come on” She told him after he placed the restriction. “I have been training swordplay and I have been training my ability but not combining both. I need to do more to win this thing” Was her response to an unrelenting, crossed armed Eigil.
“Fine, do it, but in OUR sessions. NEVER with the guards” He used his serious tone so that she would not object. “Looks like you forgot most of them know nothing of our abilities. In this whole place only eight people know so if you go around burning them, they will notice”
“Really? Only eight?” Was her response “This dungeon has at least Cadem you and me. We live and train here, weird things like burnings and flying metal and stuff, someone should see something”
“I have the authority to lock any area, even if someone tried to spy on us, he would be kept quiet. Besides most people are more preoccupied with their jobs than with us, especially with US being part of the assassins”
“What jobs? I never see anyone doing anything except the guards and the crow woman who gives the language classes, I don’t even know her name” She went as she imitated her teacher.
“You don’t know the name of a teacher you’ve had for eight months?” He asked with a face of true intrigue.
She answered with a nod and he sighted.
“You can only enter certain areas. That is true to most people around here so no one person could know all that happens in this facility but there are drugs, weapons, slaves, contraband among other things. So yeah, everyone has a job except for you.” He gave her a slow and sadistic smile.
“Now, for using your powers against a guard. Tomorrow, you have to do an extra half an hour of drills” He lifted a finger before she retorted. “Any complain an it will be an hour.”
She stopped moving and just went away to her room giving him the finger as she got out.
The next day she decided to arrive earlier. When she had to do an extra hour, she had to stay late but half an hour could be done if she ate fast and arrived earlier to do them before her designated time.
Astrid started her drills as she began heating up her blade. She had improved the control on her ability, coper was still her preferred material because it was easy to heat up.
On a good day she managed to melt a block of eight kilogram of the material in just over half an hour. Today was only the second time she ever heated up steel but it should not be much different; her blade had been modified to avoid leather, wood or plastic to melt or burn. The grip felt off compered to her training but she could get used to it.
She knew the drills by heart; she had done them day after day for months. Form was much more important than speed, the movement had to align with the edge of the blade or the cutting capacity would be reduced to a quarter or less. Astrid started slow, moving the blade though the air in precise movements; she let her body continue the drills by muscle memory closing her eyes and focusing her mind to heating the blade.
She had to master the technique as soon as possible, her time until the competition was running out.
She let herself fall deep down into her power, if she had to describe the feeling it would be like sinking into deep pool. Her body felt sluggish, unresponsive even as she moved though the drills without slowing down.
The pool always started as a cool clear water that gave her a sense of clarity. However, the deeper she went to increase output or to last longer, the denser the water felt as if mud slowly displaced the water.
Using her abilities always felt uncomfortable, like something was missing or was disconnected but she never could find a way to change it. To use it Astrid had to relive her worst memories; humiliation and pain triggered the anger that gave her the power to increase the temperature of anything she touched.
Not set it aflame, her ability felt purer than flame or ice although she would have loved to be able to throw a fireball; but increase the temperature directly felt somehow more of her thing.
However, the deeper she went the denser the mud felt making her feel frustrated; releasing the anger was not possible when she felt she was being immobilized.
When the anger felt like uncontrollable flame aching her body to move and the mud felt so powerful, she could not breath; then was when the void started to form.
As far as she understood, by experience more than anything, the void is a mental blockade; a barrier placed by the body to evade a permanent damage as this ability left the user exhausted mentally but not physically. It resembled muscle exhaustion, the longer and stronger the use of her power the longer the void maintain its grip over her. As Astrid got a better hang on her power could use it longer before the feeling started to appear and the more power she could use at a time.
This whole training while heating the bade was an experiment. She knew not what would happen stressing mind and body like this for the first time so as a precaution she was going easy, about fifty percent of her possible output.
Astrid was on a trance after a few minutes, letting her muscles and her power align and work together felt refreshing.
Both aspects coexisted close to harmonically; she still felt what could be call as a tug or a delay on her ability but it felt much more natural than when she trained in a meditative position. Even with the anger and the sensation of mud all around her she experienced a sense of peace she could not remember ever having.
At the deepest of this trance Astrid started to hear something. It felt as the mud covered her ears, the sound was faint and far away. It slowly became louder a clearer but she tried to ignore it as she continued her training.
“ASTRID” Shouted a voice to the top of its lungs barely centimetres away from her ear.
She panicked and swung the sword as hard as she could towards the voice. Luckily, Eigil with his hands in his pockets, took a step back and inclined himself backwards just enough to avoid the strike.
Astrid felt out of balance as she swung past him and tumbled over, dropping the sword and landing on her side.
“You scared me; you bastard” She rose her voice as
she sat up. The anger conjured as she trained still o her head.
“I did try to speak to you several times but you did not respond” He answered stretching a hand towards her as to help her get up. “Seems you are getting the hang of this, the sword is pretty hot; it would definitely burn anyone, at least it is burning the floor.” He pointed to the sword on the ground as it burned the wood underneath.
Astrid cursed and ran to pick the sword. Eigil looked confused as she flinched while reaching for the weapon but dismissed it as a normal reaction as she was still getting use to her immunity to heat.
“You were doing a fine job with the blade. Those drills were one of the best you’ve done so far and that blade is glowing red, not bad” He was walking towards her but as he finished, he stopped and crossed his arms. “Although I don’t understand the wind, what was all that about?” He asked making a whirlwind motion with a finger.
“What are you talking about? There is no wind and I cannot make wind currents” Was her response. She began to move the blade around to cool it down.
“There was an air current all right. It seemed as you were placed on the centre of a descending current because of the movement of your hair” He reposition himself and signalled the door with his thumb.
“I’m pretty sure I felt a slight breeze and this room is a bit colder than the other one. You know this building temperature is controlled by one of the best air systems gold can buy, and that breeze was not part of it. Our artificers don’t make sloppy work” He said with a smirk across his face as to say “Don’t try to lie to me”.
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Astrid was confused, she felt no difference on temperature and never felt the current Eigil spoke off. He continued to talk but she began to think on it, she got herself lost in thought. Why would a current appear, she went through her memories to try to understand the reason for this and the realization caused her to gasp.
“Dam I am an idiot” She spoke aloud without realizing Eigil was taking about something else.
“Yes, you are; it is obvious you were not paying attention. But you seem to have understood something so punishment will wait. TALK.” He stood still and waited for her.
“Conservation of energy” She responded with a smile on her face and a little jump.
Eigil just stood there, speechless.
“Energy can neither be created or destroyed. That is a simple truth, one taught in first semester at the university; specially to artificers like me who are to create and invent. Up until now I just looked at all this as magic. A fantasy made reality and the energy I use to heat stuff being mana or something similar, energy from my body that has nothing to do with food” She was pacing around as she explained it.
She was enjoying this at least as much as when a long-lasting mystery on a novel or game is revealed and all she could do was theorise for a week.
“All of my focus went to the heating section but the energy comes from somewhere else. I work as a heat pump, transferring energy from the environment INTO the object. Just a second, let me try something” She grabbed the sword in both hands and closed her eyes.
“My mind was always focused by using a mental image of the metal on a forge. Now if I change this from just heat it to an aqueduct that transfers energy from my back, through my arms to the sword” She concentrated for almost five minutes and when she opened her eyes she jumped of joy.
The blade was red. Not at the same level as it had been when Eigil had arrived but considering it was but a fraction of the time it was impressive. Even Eigil seemed glad of the process she had done.
He was so happy in fact that he gave Astrid no punishment for ignoring him and decided to train the rest of their time sparing against her almost bright yellow sword.
The match was much more balanced for a change. It started like every other sparing match they’ve had; each at a side of the ring ready for the signal.
Eigil had not finished saying “go” before Astrid began to sprint, her blade bright yellow raised at her side. Eigil made three steps and waited for her.
She made her first attack, a vertical swing that transitioned to a horizontal slash towards her left side. Eigil stepped sideways to avoid the first strike and rolled away for the second.
He wanted to maintain his distance, that blade was hot enough to burn him severely. Even staying close was a bad idea as the heat emanating from it could be a disadvantage for him.
She maintained him in the defensive, her attacks were by the book, simple slashes similar to her drills. Trying to get imaginative would probably not help her; he knows her, he trained her and part of her concentration was needed to maintain the temperature of her blade.
The transition from different forms and drills gave her enough flexibility to keep herself from Eigil’s counter attacks but she knew she had to finish it quickly as his stamina was much higher than hers.
He’s attacks were direct and precise, most of them attempts to take her down. Astrid was able to parry most of them, preferring it to dodging as she was more of a tank and not that agile.
The fight continued for almost ten minutes until she felt exhausted, it ended when her balance broke. Eigil saw the sword getting hotter, bright yellow starting to get white, as you see when a blacksmith works on a blade. His next attack was strong enough to bend the blade on an awkward angle and Astrid fell on her back.
“Not… bad” Eigil panted as he came closer. “You need to keep the temperature in check. Too hot and the steel becomes too malleable and will bend with contact. Too cold and your advantage will disappear”
“That depends” She responded as she stood, being careful not to place the hot blade on the ground. “If the intention is to melt a piece of steel into your eyes you will not complain on me getting too hot”
“But your intention was NOT to melt it.” He crossed his arms, looked at her for a couple of seconds before he left out a sincere laugh that made Astrid feel awkward.
“Why are you laughing; Chispita?” It meant small spark in Zibish.
He hated the nickname; Cadem used it sometimes behind his back but never dared to say it with him in the room. She only called him that when he was on a state of joy and she was not.
“You will suffer today” He laughed again. “But not by my hand; you have to go to our friend Deston and take him that” He pointed at the bent blade.
She went rigid, Deston was the blacksmith in charge of making all melee weapons on the facility. He was brilliant as his job making excellent weapons no matter the specifications required. He was known for his ability, and his temper.
When she asked him to make her sword, he had made her swear she would take care of it as it was her own body. That was only a couple of days ago.
Walking towards his workshop she started to think excuses, especially one that would make Eigil responsible of the damage. Deston was after all one of them, his abilities close to hers but not as refined, so he could understand a weapon meant for one on them would be subject to extreme conditions.
As she approached the door, she had convinced herself he would be understanding and help her out.
She was wrong.
“You’ve got to be shitting me you idiot” Was his response as soon as he saw the blade even before hearing an explanation.
Astrid dropped the blade and ducked for cover avoiding a hammer meant for her head.
“CALM DOWN” She shouted while he kept going on a rampage.
On the other side of the room a door was slammed, most likely his apprentice running to the other room while his boss cooled down. The rampage went for well over five minutes and he did not let her explain or even speak until he calmed down.
“I thought you were a smart girl, they told me you’ve studied at the university or something” Deston had sat down and the disappointment on his face was palpable “I expected YOU, for one to be able to take care of my work. Every other bastard around her just takes for granted the quality of my work and just wreak everything they touch” He placed the sword on the table and looked at it. As he studied the damage he continued.
“You know, the only reason I let them place an assistant on my workshop is so I can concentrate in making new beautiful weapons while he maintains the old ones. I will one day create something on par with the twenty-two, I swear” Deston had rounded the table thrice before lifting the weapon; grabbing the blade by the hilt and the point he straightened the blade.
“WOW. That was impressive, a very efficient way to fix the sword” Astrid reached for the hilt but was blocked by the blacksmith. He hit her so hard on the back of her hand that the sound echoed though the workshop.
“I never said it was ready, you babbling idiot; you did something to this blade that cannot be repaired so easily. Now if I remember correctly, I told you that if you treated my work like shit, I will treat you like shit.” He threw the blade to a corner of the workshop like it was rubbish. “Sit down and explain to me how you un-did the heat treatment of my blade. I will give you one last opportunity to prove yourself, if you fail you will have to pay like the other bastards around here” He placed a bench in front of his work table and with a small jump he sat on the table.
Deston was not the biggest guy around here but he was probably the most respected. He had no involvement with anything in the installation apart from making weapons and maintaining them, he even made the cooking knives used on the kitchens.
He was about one eighty-five meters tall; his chest, arms and shoulders were muscular and well defined and gave a radical contrast with his big round belly. Deston had a full beard and his dark hair was always in a bun to avoid it being damaged by the fire although it was not a perfect bun; mostly uneven and sometimes just a complete mess; it was practical, not fashionable.
He was no fighter but in brute strength alone he was a force to be reckoned with; and with his temper even Eigil and Cadem respected the man’s authority on his workshop.
He had gained the nickname Dragon of the forge because of his ability. Just like Astrid he was a fire and ice user. His ability was not of temperature but of flame, he could manipulate any fire around him changing its size and strength. Normally he could not create his own but Eigil said that when his temper reached its limits, he could start breathing fire, hence the nick-name.
As she reached the bench she began to think on his power. If her ability had to somehow respect the laws of nature, then all abilities should too; so how can he just create flame out of nothing?
Before she could feed the thought, she was pulled by reality by Deston snapping his fingers.
“Talk girl” was all he said.
She proceeded to tell him exactly what happened starting at the moment she began to heat the blade up. His face turned slowly as she spoke from curios to disappointed.
“OK, stop.” He placed a hand on his forehead. “I like your creativity with your power. BUT; Never; ever; heat the blade that much.” He stood and walked around looking blades placed on different surfaces.
“Why shouldn’t I?” She asked as he walked around the workshop.
“I will give you an example. There you go” He found what he was looking for and walked back to the table with two unfinished blades. “This is a blade before a heat treatment” He placed one side on a press and using his full strength bended the blade.
Astrid expected it to break but it just kept bending and when he let it go the blade partially recovered maintaining some of the curve.
“Now look at this blade with a strong heat treatment” Deston repeated the same procedure but this time the blade fractured in half.
“So, heat treatment prevents the metal from bending?” She asked
“Yes and no.” He responded as he threw the metal pieces towards the same corner he threw her blade at. “Heat treatment is meant to make the blade harder; this helps the cutting capacity but it causes the blade to become more fragile” He sat down once again. “You rising the temperature to that level un-did the treatment. It became soft and bended”
Astrid just sat still. Thinking. If she reduced the temperature, it could still burn someone and she could do it faster with less effort on her part, however, the effect would be severely reduced and meant losing the added bonus of the enemy maintaining distance because of the heat emanating from the blade.
After close to three minutes in deep thought she noticed Deston was still watching her.
“I don’t know what to do. Could you, you know, help me?” She asked the man. He just smiled at her
“I like you girl. I will tell you some ideas I’ve had over the years and you decide how to assimilate the knowledge on to your style. How about that?”
She nodded in response. He was the closest she had to a mentor on her ability and even if he was not a fighter, he made weapons so he could teach her the limits to which they could be taken.
“Your thinking is restrictive at best. You are thinking about a one-on-one fight, buuuut that normally does not happen on your area of work. You are an assassin not a warrior. My first recommendation is FIRE”
The smile that resulted after he said it gave her the chills. It was a smile of pleasure that resembled that of Bartolomeo. The image however vanished as he continued.
“You can carry highly inflammable liquids or powders that with a little action you will ignite them. Burning them directly can also be a good solution, how about that?” he asked as he crossed his arms.
“I like the first idea, the second is problematic. I can’t raise the temperature of anything if I have no physical contact; and as you can see my reach is not very good so hand to hand could be a problem” She responded as he looked at her. “Also, I think I am not immune to all heat, only to the one I move”
“You are correct; you are miniscule” She felt a little insulted but did not complain as he continued. “I think you can maintain your fighting style if you change your weapon”
“Really?” She jumped and interrupted Deston who seemed surprised by the enthusiasm or the fact that no one else dared interrupt him in here.
Before he could continue the door opened, his assistant entering slowly. He seemed to been waiting for his opportunity so he did not enrage his boss.
“Sir, the head of security is here to look on the progress of the knifes we are to send south” He seemed like a shy or scared young man.
“What does that buffoon want now?” he looked at Astrid to add. “That idiot has never been in a knife fight before, he does not even train with them so how does he expect to know what a good steel is?”
“What should I tell them sir?” His assistant asked him in a very small voice.
“He can inspect them; I will be there in two minutes” He didn’t even look back as the assistant went back through the door.
“Will he be all right?” Astrid asked with a worried glance towards the door.
“He will be fine. He is a strong kid but needs some character forge into him. Any way WAR HAMMER” He rose as he almost screamed the last two words. Astrid was surprised by this and almost fell from her seat.
“You need a hammer; a bigger piece of steel will be much more resistant against impact when heated to that level. Also, I will teach you about smithing. At least a bit so when you fight you can do some maintenance to your weapon; that way this disaster will not happen again” He pointed to the corner before extending his hand. “Think about it and tell me tomorrow or the day after what is your choice and I make you a fine weapon” He stood and with not another word he walked towards the back and went out the door.
Astrid sat there for some seconds not knowing what to do so she just stood up and walked away towards her room to meditate on her fighting style.