Chapter Eleven: The Falling Frost Dragon

Ash’s eyes snapped open. He had heard a noise, and for a moment, he thought they were being attacked. Images of a creature shrouded in black descending from the sky spewing purple fire filled his mind.

Instead, he heard a low whining that he understood a moment later was crying.

“Shh, it’s okay. Shh..” Rosalia’s voice was low, soft, and filled with utter compassion.

Turning his head over in his bedroll, Ash looked out through lidded eyes.

Will was sobbing quietly, whimpering sobs. Tears rolling down his cheek.

“She gone…” he repeated, his voice broken and filled with loneliness.

Ash turned his head away. The simple truth was that he understood the way Will was feeling.

More than once these last few nights, he, too, had wanted to cry. Instead, he resolved to turn it over to training. What Amalia had said hadn’t registered with him then, but as he thought about it, he came to what he felt was an inevitable conclusion.

She was right.

He couldn’t change what had happened, and though he would seek answers and vengeance, he first had to ensure it would never happen again.

He would do that by becoming so powerful that it couldn’t happen again.

Magic or no magic.

Holding on to that thought, Ash drifted off to sleep.

Dreams of fire, dark figures, and a woman on a horse beckoned him.

________

“We are two days away from Brilehaven, but we will not be going anywhere for the next week.”

“Um, what? Why?” Rosalia asked, ears twitching.

Nick ran a thumb over his sheathed hammer before crossing his arms,

“I’d also like to know. An inn would be far preferable to the light-cursed ground. It hurts my back.”

Will pointed and nodded at the dwarf, with Ash joining him. He had no desire to sleep out here if he didn’t have to.

Amalia endured their complaints with the same stoic expression she always used when they disagreed. When she felt they were done voicing their gripes, she spoke,

“It's because you all need more training, and that training includes living outdoors. Adventurers often travel, and their only option is to sleep outside. Sometimes, they even stay inside dungeons. When we get to Brilehaven, we will take a monster contract, and you need to be prepared for it.”

Rosalia’s face paled, and Ash’s jaw fell open, and he shared a shocked glance with the others.

“A monster contract? Do you want us to die? I’m too pretty to die!’ Will exclaimed, pointing at his face.

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Amalia did not laugh.

“You won’t die. You handled kobolds well enough; you can handle this with careful preparation and diligent training.”

Amalia endured their protests a little further before raising a hand. Instantly, all noise ceased.

“You act as if you have a choice. I am older than you; I know more than you do. If you wish to fulfill my condition and become a bronze-ranked adventurer, you will listen to me. Otherwise, I will stop helping you. Thus, you would be on your own. I feel you would not get very far then.”

Ash brought his brows together in a scowl. She was correct; she knew it, too. Ash hated that, even more so because she didn’t even have the common courtesy to look smug about it, so he couldn’t fully indulge in his active dislike for her.

The others came to the same conclusion as reluctant acceptance wrote itself on their faces.

Amalia tapped her staff on the ground.

“Let’s begin.”

__________________

“Master Al’Smith, I can see that it will be impossible for you to learn the sword, so I will permit you to use a hammer, as well.” Amalia produced a shield from thin air, handing it to Nick, who grunted and ran a hand over the wooden surface.

He slipped his left arm through the strap and nodded to Amalia.

“I like the feel of this.”

“Mm. Yes, I figured you would. It serves a dual purpose, as master Lorcan will have to figure out a way around it.” She flicked her violet eyes to Ash’s blue gaze.

“I expect you to meet the challenge.”

Ash didn’t acknowledge her, as he was already thinking about getting around the shield. Nick put his metal hammer on the ground in favor of a wooden one Amalia gave him.

“Begin!” Amalia called.

Nick didn’t bother with any stance; he just advanced, raised his shield, and tried to wack Ash with his hammer. Ash dodged around it with a few quick steps to the right, lashing out with his blade.

Nick must have expected something like this because he turned, catching the blow with a hollow thud on his shield.

The rest of the training went a lot like that. Frustration built up in Ash like layers of frost, and finally, he snapped, anger and instinct driving him. He attacked the shield with a furious blow, displacing it enough for his sword to get in a follow-up attack that landed solidly against Nick, knocking him to the ground.

The dwarf cursed, sputtering angrily.

Before he could fully direct his pained ire at Ash, Amalia broke in.

“The hand-and-a-half sword has more reach; by attacking the shield, you can displace it. This creates more opportunities for the sword wielder to land critical blows, as demonstrated by Master Lorcan.”

She turned her attention to Ash,

“The form you just used is known as the falling frost dragon. It is a form used primarily for offense from a high guard.”

She studied him like he was a fascinating specimen,

“With hardly any prior training and no one having shown you that method of attack…” Amalia trailed off before turning away and tending to Rosalia and Will.

Nick sighed, muttering to himself.

“I supposed I can’t be too mad, losing to a Light-cursed prodigy.”

______________

After exercising and weapon drills, it was usually time for magic, but before they all closed their eyes to draw their elar from their elan, Amalia held up a hand.

“Can anyone tell me how many kingdoms make up Dominion?”

Ash looked at everyone else and found them equally confused.

“I suppose you only need an understanding of local geography to farm. Very well, here are the very basics. I asked a trick question, as there is only one kingdom on Dominion, the one we are in now, Aleria. There are, however, three other nations, or world powers, you might call them: the Elendari Nation, the elves’ home, and Errundus, where the dwarves dwell. Finally, we have Alzura, home of the visenium. Now, practice drawing elar, and get used to the feeling,” she paused here before looking at Ash, “Tomorrow, you use your elar in weapons training.”

Ash gritted his teeth.

But he did not voice his anger. Instead, he turned inward as he had so many times before since finding his elan.

Once again, he found it, and once again, he could not draw upon it.

However, he felt like he was beginning to understand why. He couldn’t be sure, but it felt like there was a chasm between him and that winter orb of power within him. He reached forth a mental hand, and as hard as he tried, he could not breach that gap.

He needed a bridge, a way to get over that mental chasm.

He constructed a mental image of one with his thoughts, trying to lay it over the gap in the hopes that it would work.

But it fell into that great chasm, breaking into a thousand mental shards. He blew a breath through his nose, trying many more times to no avail.

Sometimes, it didn’t matter how often you tried to fix something.

Some things were just too broken ever to be fixed.