Leanna groaned and writhed within their tent, the pain stemming from her teeth the most painful thing she had ever experienced. Whatever was happening, it felt like tens of thousands of scalding hot needles were being jabbed into her jaw and teeth. Blood oozed out from her gums, causing her mouth to fill with a never-ending irony taste. Tyrius used three of the healing stones Lera had given them throughout the night. It diminished the pain for an hour or two, but it always returned, worse than before, and after the third, Leanna told Tyrius to stop--as he wanted to use a fourth. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be healed with healing magic.

They’d been traveling along the eastern route towards Steelwallow for a week, under the watchful eyes of the two knights they came across while fleeing a band of bandits. Tyrius had gotten along excellent with them--but Leanna, Leanna knew why they were there. On their first night, Leanna had extended her senses outwards, falling Sir Bravor out into the woods, and through her feelings, heard the call to his fellow knights--somehow, someway, they learned she was a vampire and had come hunting. She was grateful that they wanted to try and ‘talk some sense into her brother, but deep down, she knew they had to make a break for it soon--hopefully, they’d arrive in Steelwallow before the rest of the knights caught up.

Leanna had yet to tell Tyrius of this--it was clear to her that they couldn’t defeat one of the knights, let alone two of them, and Tyrius was a terrible liar, something she’d learned over the years from her sibling. So, as much as she hated it, Leanna felt the best course of action was not to tell her brother that those they were traveling with were enemies. He couldn’t be bad at lying if he didn’t know he had to lie.

During the time traveling together, Tyrius continued to take whatever lessons he could from Sir Andor, who seemed more than willing to teach the young blacksmith. Leanna suspected it was to garner his trust--so when they confronted the pair, they could use that friendship as leverage to hand Leanna over.

Leanna had not spent very much time with the pair of knights, and the reason was simple. She didn’t have the energy. Ever since their flight from the bandits, Leanna felt exceedingly tired and wearier mentally. She knew the sensation. She’d felt it many times during her youth when her mother taught her the basics of air magic manipulation. Mana exhaustion, but no matter how much she rested, slept, and didn’t use magic, mana’s reserves never accumulated. The only thing that Leanna could think of was that this was a side effect of vamparism--she’d hope she could have staved it off longer. At least the sun wasn’t bothering her yet.

As Leanna contemplated her situation, Tyrius popped into the tent, holding a small bowl of steaming stew. Bits of meat and vegetables floated on the surface of the brownish liquid.

“Here, have something to eat, Leanna. You need to keep up your strength.”

Tyrius said in a worried voice as Leanna reached out and took the bowl from him.

“Thank you.” Leanna managed to let out, ignoring and pushing through the pain stemming from her jaw.

Slowly she began to eat, winced as the heat of the stew washed over hurting gums. At least the vegetables were all mushy at this point, and the bits of meat had been cut up nice and thing, allowing her an easier time to eat the meal.

“Leanna, get some rest. We’ll be getting back on the road in the morning. Hopefully, we get you to regain some of your strength by then.” Tyrius commented softly, reaching over and gently patting Leanna’s head.

“I’m going to do some more training--while Sir Bravor doesn’t use a sword, he offered to give some pointers when I asked him about it. Call me if you need anything.” Tyrius said as he pushed himself upwards and slipped out of the tent.

Leanna simply grimaced as she leaned back down, a small sigh escaping her lips.

As Tyrius stepped out of the tent, Sir Bravor spoke up. “How’s she doing?”

“She’s not getting any better. I hope we can get to Steelwallow soon so we can get someone to look at her.” Tyrius said, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

“Aye, they have a lot of good healers in that city. It’s a big stop for caravanners, and traders, so they have a bit of everything. Not as much as the capital, mind you, but a lot more than your home.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

“Now, when you’re ready, come over here and show me what you know. I’ve not seen you fight with a sword yet.”

Tyrius nodded, taking a minute to take a deep breath and compose himself, before joining Sir Bravor in the makeshift clearing they had.

Reaching downwards, Tyrius grasped the hilt of his sword, tugging the black blade from its sheath. Bravor cocked an eyebrow as he saw the sword and spoke up.

“Let me take a look at that sword, Tyrius.”

The blacksmith cocked an eyebrow before relenting, walking over, and offering the sword to the knight.

Sir Bravor held the blade, his gaze focused on the black blade, before taking a few swings with it.

“This is a mighty fine weapon you have there--, and if I’m not mistaken, it’s enchanted too. Where did you come across this sword?” Bravor asked as he offered the weapon back to Tyrius.

“From my father--he was a blacksmith, used to work for a Mercenary company before he settled down. From what I’ve been told, he made the weapons for the commanders and one for himself.”

“Well, your father was a mighty fine smith. I can tell that at least one of the enchantments on there is designs to make sure that the blade doesn’t need sharpening, to keep its fine point for a long, long time.”

“I didn’t even know that they were enchanted...I only came into possession of it after my father passed away. But I suppose that does make sense. I’ve never needed to sharpen it or anything. How did you know that?”

“That the blade doesn’t need sharpening? Well, I’ve seen my fair share of weapons. Most weapons of note have that enchantment on them. Of course, from my understanding, weaving enchantments into items is a dangerous business, so if your father made them, he was a fine smith. A bit off someone of that skill was living in a small village, but I’m not one to judge.”

Tyrius smiled as his father was praised by one of the empire’s knights before taking a few steps back in the clearing.

“Alright, Tyrius, show me what you’ve known of the blade, and I’ll see what I can do to help you.”

Tyrius nodded as he began to go through his motions--the motions that his father taught him years ago. Tyrius knew enough not to telegraph his moves, sudden, sharp strikes, rather than long-winded swings. Tyrius also made sure to stop his motions before the momentum carried the sword out directly in front of him--even in training, Tyrius was taught to keep his sword pointed in front of him, never to lessen his guard.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Sir Bravor nodded as he watched, his gaze following Tyrius’ strikes and movements. “Not bad. You know the basics at least, which is a lot better than most people. You don’t know how many young aspiring knights I’ve had to inform that swinging a sword like a stick wasn’t how you used a sword. I’ve seen even more than a few noble brats that wanted to add twirls into their motions continually. Every time they did, I wallopped their open back with a training sword until they stopped.”

“Heh, well, hopefully, you don’t need to be so harsh with me, Bravor,” Tyrius commented as he took a deep breath.

“Oh, we’ll see. Now, remember, right now, we’re just training with swords, no magic. You can’t use magic as a crutch. It’s a tool like any other. Now, how about we see how you do with a real opponent.”

“Are you going to spar with me?”

“No, I’ve got something a little better in mind.” the knight stated as he stomped his foot into the ground, and across from Tyrius, something started to emerge from the ground. After a few moments, a stone figure stood right in front of Tyrius, carrying a stone sword and all. The details weren’t too specific, but it was vaguely humanoid.

“The stone sword won’t kill you, but its strikes will hurt. While, on the other hand, you can attack and try to kill it.”

Tyrius nodding before taking a stance opposite the stone statue that was his sparring partner. To Tyrius’ surprise, the stature lurched forward, swinging that stone sword with surprising speed--Tyrius had suspected that the statue was going to be slow--a miscalculation the earned Tyrius a hard strike to his gut that sent him reeling onto the ground, wincing in pain.

“Don’t underestimate your opponent. That’s the first and most important lesson. Always assume, at the very least, that they’re on your skill level, but it’s safer to assume they’re better. In battle, a single cocky mistake will end your life. Now up off your ass.”

Tyrius grumbled as he pushed himself upwards, standing up once again--it was certainly good advice and advice Tyrius needed to take to heart. He’d gotten out of the few dangerous situations he’d been in by luck and not underestimating the situation.

Once in his ready position again, the stone statue attacked, but this time, Tyrius was ready, dodging the heavy strike with his black blade. Tyrius half expected that his sword would slice through the stone one, but it seemed to have been hardened with Bravor’s magic so that it wouldn’t be that easy.

Tyrius took things easy, observing his opponent, to see what weakness the creature had. While it was fast and strong, Tyrius quickly learned that it was not very maneuverable, that it’s couldn’t flex its body and a person--mainly because it was made of rock.

Using that to his advantage, Tyrius used his superior agility to maneuver his way around the stone statue, dodge and parrying its strikes before making his attacks. As his weapon crashed against the stone, a flurry of dust shot off, though he didn’t make as much of a dent as he thought he would have. Quickly Tyrius realized that, as a regular combatant, certain areas were more well-armored than others.

Tyrius had to resist the urge to blast the thing with magic--that was not the lesson he was supposed to be learning here. Tyrius simply focused on attacking the creature and dodging the blows. It became more accessible and easier as the moments went by as he slowly became used to the stone statue’s attack pattern. Eventually, Tyrius lashed out with his sword, the pointed tip driving more profound into the figure’s neck--it was nowhere near as hard as the chest was.

“Not bad, not bad,” Bravor commented. He had been watching the fight the whole time. “Though, you were a bit too cautious. In a one-on-one fight, that’s fine, but you’re hardly ever fighting against one person. Though removing that hesitation is something that’ll come with time. Now. Again.”

After a moment, another stone statue formed in front of Tyrius wielded a different weapon, and once again, the spar began.

Tyrius fought many different stone figures over the next few hours, carrying various weapons and using other tactics. To his surprise, some of the statures were more dexterous, seemingly able to shift the stone in their body to mimic a human’s movement--but every enemy had some kind of weakness Tyrius could learn and exploit.

By the end of the fight, Tyrius was battered with more than a few bruises, blood oozing from a small gash on his shoulder when he managed to break a stone sword and received a torrent of small dark rocks. Though it was nothing serious, and with a quick bandage, it was covered up. There was no reason to use a healing stone--and using healing stone stunted physical growth as it returned the body to its previous state, instead of letting the body heal naturally.

With that finished, Tyrius made a quick meal before retiring to the tent for the evening, checking on his sister, who was still weakly lying in the tent.

“Leanna, are you feeling any better?” Tyrius asked softly. He knelt next to her with another bowl of stew, rouse her from her slumber.

Leanna did not feel any better, but she didn’t feel any worse either. The feeling of weakness and mana exhaustion remained. Whatever the issue was, resting was not going to be fixed by resting.

A small sigh escaped her lips as she pushed herself up into a sitting position, taking the bowl Tyrius offered. “No..I’m not feeling any better--” she began before cutting herself off, noticing the bandage wrapped on his arm.

“Tyrius, what happened?”

“Oh, this? I got it while doing some sparing. We wrapped it in a bandage to stop the bleeding. It’s not bad enough to warrant using a healing stone.”

Leanna, for some reason, knew that Tyrius had been bleeding. She could, for whatever reason, almost sense it. Sense the blood that was being stopped by the bandage, and a slight desire grew for a moment, a hunger within her.

That was when it hit her--she couldn’t regain mana. Perhaps it was related to a vampire needing to drink blood? There was only one way to find out--and she’d need to start sooner or later.

Letting out a small sigh, Leanna leaned in, keeping her voice down low, as she once again extended her senses, using what little mana she had left to confirm the knights were away from the tent.

“Tyrius...I think I know how to fix my weakness…” she began, her voice trailing off as it faltered.

“Leanna, what do you think will work? I hate seeing you weak like this, and we need to get moving soon--who knows when things will get worse.”

“I...I think I need blood...it’s the only option left.” Leanna began as she reached over and gently began to undo the wrapping.

Tyrius went pale a few moments after--he was still coming to terms with his sister’s condition--and he new found changes. He hoped they had more time before it came to this--but if it’d help, he’d suffer through it.

Once the bandage was off, Leanna could see the small cut on his arm--through it mainly had cloated over. A moment later, Leanna leaned in, almost on a newfound instinct, her teeth digging into Tyrius’ soft flesh. Her teeth pierced down into the flesh quickly--far more effortless than Leanna would’ve believed. It must’ve been another changed from her affliction.

Tyrius let out a small gasp, wincing at the painful sensation of a set of teeth digging into his harm and skin. Leanna also winced as she tasted her brother’s blood, which flowed from his shoulder, into her mouth. It was metallic and thick, but, for some reason, it didn’t taste bad. Just different.

After a few moments, Leanna pulled away, her lips coated red with blood. Tyrius couldn’t even look at her directly, his face directed on the other side of the tent, practically ignoring her. A few a moment, Leanna licked the remnants of the blood away before recovering Tyrius’ arm with the bandage--with any luck, no one would notice that it had been removed.

While Tyrius was feeling uneasy, having been forced to confront his sister’s changes directly, Leanna was already feeling better. Her mana reserves refilling, causing the sensation of mana exhaustion to disappear over time--it seems she’d need to add blood into her diet from now on...