B006T5JMRC EBOK (20 page)

“You know, kid, if you think I’m gonna’ give you special treatment just because you’re really a
big, mighty dragon
, then you’ve got another think comin’.” Illadar forced back a smile. “Get some rest after you’ve held the logs until the fire dies.” He then turned toward Thomas. “And as for you—you sly, old man.” His finger shook in Thomas’ direction as he spoke. “I think it’s safe to say we will need to catch up on the truth between ourselves tomorrow evening. It’s apparent I know nothing of the real you.” He chuckled to himself, mumbling as he crawled under the wood shelter, “Who would’ve thought—traveling with a dragon and a sorcerer.”

That morning, Kale awoke to the tip of Illadar’s boot tapping against his feet. He rubbed his eyes wearily, still craving sleep, as he squinted at another radiant day.

“It’s time, kid—now your trainin’ will truly begin. Follow me,” Illadar commanded.

Kale sprang up like a child just presented with a grand gift. He knew it was the moment he had been longing for—the day he would learn to fight using a sword. Kale slid his boots on and followed Illadar to an area outside the edge of their camp, near a tree. Thick green moss swirled around the bark, making it distinct among the other surrounding trees.

“Here,” Illadar tossed him a sturdy stick, “dig.”

How delightful, another of his insidious tasks
. Kale sighed, shaking his head in frustration. He did as instructed and began to scrape at the firm soil which appeared untouched until now, a solid coat of damp fungus on the surface.

He pushed deeper and deeper, which proved to be quite difficult while using a single crooked tree branch as a shovel. Kale devised a strategy to use his hands as a scoop in order to prevent the dirt from tumbling back in.

“I think I’ve hit something!” Kale exclaimed as his fingertips scraped against something hard.

“Dig it out,” Illadar nodded as he spoke.

Kale continued to shovel handfuls of dirt, following the shape of whatever was buried below. He was certain at this point it wasn’t a tree root—the smooth texture was sanded wood. Kale became confident the object he was digging at was a box. His curiosity rose and he wasn’t sure whether to feel excited or worried of its contents. Finally, the rectangular box was uncovered. He wiped his brow as sweat trickled toward his eye. The task had taken much longer than he originally assumed.

This would have been so much easier if I only had my claws
. Kale grunted as he began to lift the box from the hole. It was heavier than he expected and the weight seemed to be disproportioned.

“Watch it, kid!” Illadar scolded as he heard the contents shifting around. “You don’t know what’s inside, so how about bein’ more careful.”

Kale nodded. Illadar was right. He didn’t want to cause any damage before revealing what the contents were.

“What shall I do now?” Kale questioned as he placed the box onto the ground.

“Open it.”

A smile spread upon Kale’s face. There was no challenge or tests attached—he could satisfy his eager curiosity without any delays. He dug his fingertips beneath the small lip on the box top. It was tight and snugly fit into the main shell. After a few good tugs, the lid creaked as it slowly slid upward until finally popping off. The sudden release caught Kale off guard, causing him to catch his balance with a hand before falling onto his bottom.

As he peered into the box, his bright eyes marveled. The box contained three beautifully crafted weapons. There was a double-edged dagger with a steel grip which blended the entire piece together. The daggers’ hard scabbard was created of polished steel, reflecting in the sunlight; its center was embossed with smooth bronze plates. A deadly looking combat flail was the next weapon Kale noticed. A blackened steel handle was attached to a black chain with a weighted ball on the end. Kale cringed as he gazed upon the large pointed spikes protruding off the sphere—he did not want to be caught on the victims’ side of the flail’s attack.

Last, resting beneath the other weaponry, was the most divine sword he ever laid eyes upon. The scabbard of finely polished steel contained ringlets of gold wrapped around in precisely proportioned sections. Along the scabbard’s edge were golden studs which traced down from the opening to the point. The hilt of the sword was awe inspiring with a black grip, ribbed to allow the wielder ample traction when attacking. The guard and pommel were both gold and engraved with swishes and swirls that completed a stunning visual impact.

“How did you know these were here?” Kale questioned suspiciously.

“When I first arrived at Braxle and took over old man Galever’s blacksmith forge, I had a grim feelin’ the day would come where I would need to leave the town without warning—or an abundance of time to make preparations. When it comes to my life, good things don’t tend to last very long, so I knew it was only a matter of waiting for something to happen. For many nights after the shop was closed, I would stay and work on these. I wanted them to be precise, strong, and deadly. Along with my claymore, these weapons are my pride and joy.” He glanced toward Kale, “I’ve decided I want to share them with you—and the old sorcerer.” Illadar called out loudly enough for Thomas to hear on the other side of a cluster of bushes. “You’ll want additional protection on the battlefield—just in case.”

“Amazing...” It was the only word that slipped from Kale’s lips as he stared wide-eyed at the box.

“This is exceptionally kind of you.” Thomas emerged from the foliage. His green eyes twinkled at the thought of having his own weapon. Until now, magic had always proven to be sufficient. “I think I shall choose the most simplistic to use—if you two don’t mind of course. The dagger would be ideal as I can’t imagine my old bones swinging anything heavier around. I don’t foresee myself having the need to resort to weaponry unless an enemy was close and my magical strength nearly depleted.” The corners of his lips curled upward

The two men could tell he was excited to have a dagger to call his own.

“Fair enough. You’re up, kid, take your pick.”

“You’re all right with this? You did create them, after all; I wouldn’t want to take something you desire.” Kale wanted to be polite with the situation, yet he secretly hoped Illadar would allow him next choice.

“I’ve got my lady right here.” He patted the giant sword over his shoulder.

He gave his weapon a gender? Humans
... Kale laughed to himself.

“Go ahead and take your pick.” Illadar gestured toward the remaining two weapons.

Kale could see that behind Illadar’s toughened exterior, he was excited to share the objects he had worked so hard to create. There was a certain glimmer in his dark eyes that gave it away. Kale couldn’t deny he was overjoyed; he had never been given such a magnificent gift in all of his life—then again, as a dragon he never needed anything aside from companionship, and Thomas had fulfilled that.

Kale’s hand shot forward with his pointer finger extended—undoubtedly sure it was the sword he desired. From the moment he laid eyes upon the weapon, he wanted to touch it—to hold it. He desperately desired to master the art of wielding it in battle.

“It’s all yours, kid. Go ahead and take it.”

Kale inhaled, holding a breath within his chest as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt. Although he handled many swords throughout his time working at the blacksmith shop—this one felt
right
. It was as though the sword had been made for only his hands. He sat upon his legs, resting the scabbard in his lap as he drew the sword. The blade was perfectly balanced and razor sharp. It sparkled in the sunlight as he slowly spun the hilt within his grasp.
It’s mine—it’s really mine
! A wide smile crossed his glowing face.

“I’ll hold onto this.” Illadar lifted the flail. The chain chimed as the weighted spiked ball dangled. “You can never have too much protection.”

“Thank you for this, Illadar,” Kale beamed. “You won’t regret it, I swear.”

Illadar chuckled, “Don’t thank me just yet, kid, it comes with a price.” The left side of his dark lips snickered upward. “Now, the real training begins. Grab your canteen and sword, then follow me.” He wrapped the spiked weight on the flail in heavy cloth before shoving it into his bag. Illadar then placed the bag in a concealed location near their wood shelter.

Kale quickly looped the scabbard through his belt, tightening the strap to ensure it would hold the weight of the sheathed sword.

“Let’s go.” Illadar looked up at Thomas, “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like, old man.”

Thomas smiled. “I appreciate the invitation, but I think I shall wait here at camp. I’ll leave the fancy battle stances to you two.” He then locked eyes with Kale, “Don’t get too hotheaded. Learning a new skill takes time and practice. Once you have completed your training for the day, bring your weaponry to me and I shall repair it for you. Also,” his expression grew serious, “we don’t need your powers to do any more unexpected harm. Tonight, you and I will begin working on controlling the ability. Be warned that while I can correct a dulled blade, my powers are not able to piece a sword back together that has been melted by your temper.”

Kale nodded as he anxiously followed Illadar into the forest. Within minutes they arrived at a clearing that offered plenty of room for practicing.

“All right, kid, draw your sword.” Illadar stuck a long, slender fallen tree branch into the dirt. “Imagine this is your opponent.” He watched as Kale lifted the sword, prepared to swing. “Now, wait a moment, kid. You don’t wanna’ go in swingin’ around all reckless. There is an art to sword fighting. You must feel the weapon’s movement within yourself.” He patted his chest above his heart. “Every step—every swing, they must be in unison with the blade. When in battle, a true warrior’s sword becomes a part of him. Now relax—clear your mind—and breathe. I want you to come at your opponent and swing—but do not strike. You must learn to control your strength.”

Kale did as instructed and relaxed his mind before tightening his fingers around the hilt. He lunged forward and swung the sword at an angle from his side toward the stick. A roar of inner anger released from his lips as the sword struck the wooden target with amazing force. It easily sliced into two pieces as the steel impacted.

Illadar shook his head; he knew this was only the beginning of many necessary hours invested in Kale’s training.

They remained at the camp as the weeks passed. From the moment Kale woke, to the time he laid down to sleep, his day consisted of hunting, practicing with the sword, and training with Thomas to control his abilities. They had come to the conclusion there were multiple aspects rooted to Kale’s powers. When he felt an overwhelming sensation of fear, frustration, or anger, his body would trigger its former element of flame. It had somehow conformed to fit with his human transformation. Thomas taught him how to cope with these feelings and soon, Kale was able to utilize his powers at will.

As sword fighting progressed, Illadar saw such exceptional progress in Kale he decided to advance his training. They would finally begin sparring together with their swords — a deadly practice if not prepared. Until this time they had only used sticks to replicate having an actual weapon in battle.

Thomas assured them he would continue to repair their weaponry with his magical abilities before each following practice. Both Kale and Illadar wanted to ensure their swords remained sharp and precisely balanced, hoping for the day they would cross paths with Jedah or his men.

“You sure you’re ready for this, kid?” Illadar raised a black eyebrow.

“Most definitely.” Kale gripped his right hand tightly around the hilt. “Try to keep up.” Kale half-jokingly mocked Illadar. He tried to steady his slightly shaking hand. Kale knew that Illadar was an amazing swordsman and although he had taken on the monsloths, it was by pure luck and the aid of Thomas, that he survived. Kale breathed, recalling the intense training he had endured over the past few days.
I can do this—I know I can
.

Kale advanced toward Illadar, attempting to read his expression and body language. Kale leapt forward as he raised his sword above his head, parallel with the ground. The sword chimed as it crossed against the broad claymore; Illadar was incredibly responsive and swift. Kale pushed his weight forward which caused Illadar to stagger backwards, allowing space between them.

Unknown to Kale, Illadar had no intention to unleash the full potential of his skills. He knew doing so at Kale’s level of experience would surely result in a massive injury. Both men were aware of the purpose of sparring—to simulate a killing blow, but to not truly strike one another.

“Nice move—for an old man,” Kale smirked.

“You just watch your pace, kid. Strike my flesh and you’ll be sorry.” The stern look on Illadar’s face instantly told Kale he was not joking.

Before Kale could come up with a witty response, he saw the shining reflection of Illadar’s blade swiftly flying toward his head. Kale quickly reacted and ducked below the claymore—listening as it whooshed by.

“Curses, Illadar! That could have hit me!”

“Stop foolin’ around and pay attention. Losin’ focus for any amount of time could easily result in death. Secondly, learn to better read your opponent—we’ve discussed this before. Some say you can read a person through their eyes.” He wiped the sweat from above his upper lip. “I knew the blow would not land.”

Without hesitation, Kale straightened his posture upright as he thrust his sword forward. Illadar effortlessly parried, riposting the attack as his claymore swung forward. Kale managed to block the attack as he deflected it with his own blade. His frustration increased with every following attack that was dodged, blocked, or countered.

Control yourself
, Kale pressed the words firmly on his thoughts,
you know how to do this—don’t let your emotions get away from you
. He lectured himself. Despite his attempts, he could feel his palms growing increasingly warmer. He breathed heavily as he fought the growing sensation. He had to make a move now — before it was too late.
Don’t lose focus
. It was proving to be incredibly difficult to engage in combat while still attempting to tame his ability.

Kale lunged at Illadar with the point of his blade pressing forward toward Illadar’s chest. Illadar’s claymore swung up in a half circle which forcefully shoved Kale’s weapon to his side.

Illadar’s foot dug into the sand as he spun around, stepping outward so that his blade would land behind Kale’s neck. As the mighty sword came to a halt, Kale could feel the cold steel edge pressing gently against his skin—he had lost.

“That’s all for today.”

“What? Why?” Kale questioned in confusion. He was so used to Illadar’s demanding training routines it seemed odd to stop after such a short time.

Illadar glared at Kale’s sword with a look of frustration upon his face.