Scarred Silver

Chapter 3: Training

Alteara ate her meal in complete silence. They were eating a simple meal of rice, some stewed meat that she could not identify what kind and a bowl of vegetable soup. It had been a long time since she had a real dinner and she felt like sighing with content. Most of the time she had to settle for scraps from her father's table.

"Your training will be separated to two parts." Raven Huer began. "I will tutor you in the art of spell casting, your basic education and how you will go about serving me. Valen here will handle your weapon training. Do you understand?" Alteara nodded. It was strange though, wasn't she going to train as a mage? What was the weapon training for? She knew better than to argue though. Her master put down his spoon and fork. "Dinner is over! Alteara, follow me and we will begin your lesson at once!"

Alteara followed obediently. For a brief moment, she glanced back to the knight who had not spoken a word during dinner. He was bareheaded this time; revealing a tangled mess of long and black hair. Sensing her gaze, the knight stared back; his dark eyes reflecting no emotion at all. She shuddered and moved on. Her master led her into a large, dome-shaped room. The space was empty of anything and the smooth, black walls were marked by strange, magical symbols.

"Let me give you your first lesson, pupil of mine, by telling you what magic is." Her master began. "Magic isn't a tool like a hammer or a saw is, as most of those Geffen-born fools believe. It isn't something you can pick up, use and set aside for later. It is being of power that suffuses this very world; alive in anyone who knows of its existence. It courses through the veins and pulses with your heart; a part of you like an arm or a leg. Unused, it will wither away like a useless limb. Used poorly and it will prove unreliable, like an untrained swordsman or a short-sighted archer, but perfected-"

Her master raised an arm and pointed towards the center of the room. In an instant, a flash of lightning struck. The floor heaved under the impact; causing large spikes of stone to jut out around the area where the bolt struck. Alteara covered her ears to protect them from the thunderous boom that followed the spell. Her master made a sweeping gesture with the same arm and the floor returned to its normal form. Alteara stared incredulously at him. Mages and wizards often came to Izlude in order to visit Byalan Island; they often cast fantastic spells to show off to the townsfolk but Alteara had yet to see any spell that equalled that of her master's.

"Perfected, there is nothing that it can't do." Her master continued. "You can't dictate magic's form with a book, Alteara, anymore than you can list down everything you can do with your hands. But this is where the hand analogy ends. You use your hands to wipe your ass and pick your nose. Do not disrespect magic with such mundanity, remain in awe of it for all your life and revere its source and personification; The Source. Do you know of The Source?"

Alteara shook her head. She shuddered when she saw a frown crease her master's brow briefly.

"That fool has a lot of things to do." He muttered to himself. "You will know more about her soon. Let it suffice for now that The Source is who gives this world its magic. Respect her gifts. Do you understand?"

Alteara nodded as her master finished the lecture.

"Now, let's awaken that talent of yours shall we?"

Hours later, Alteara fell gasping to her knees. Sweat trickled from her head and dripped on the cold stone floor.

"That will do for now, I suppose." Her master said. "Go back to your room, Alteara. You have an hour until Valen summons you for weapon training."


Raven Huer watched as the girl staggered out of the room. He had ordered Alteara to cast a simple fire spell. He instructed her with the proper gestures, the state of mind and the concentration needed. She was a natural at spellcasting and had succeeded in calling forth a small flame, which he immediately put out with a blast of wind.

"Bah! I asked for a fire, Alteara! Not a cigar lighter! Show me a fire that will stand against a gust of wind! Show me why I should bother to teach you anything more!"

He recalled the look of determination on the girl's face. In the end she called forth a blast of fire that lasted for a few seconds against his icy winds. 'Not too bad for her first day.' He thought. Raven allowed himself a smile before heading to his own room. He had so much to teach his student.


An hour later, Alteara found herself inside another room. This one's stone walls were marked not with magical symbols but with nicks and cracks of hundreds of blows. The knight stood in front of her inside the room, a well-used sword in his hand. For the first time since she met him, the knight spoke. He had a deep voice, a rich baritone that made her nervous.

"Don't gawk at me, girl. Get a weapon so we can begin."

Alteara looked around the room. All sorts of weapons lined the room's walls; swords, knives, axes and maces, all of them were stacked in neat piles or hung on the walls. She picked out a sword that seemed close in size with her and then held it with both hands. The blade was heavy and a little unbalancing but she had a feeling that the knight expected nothing less and would have stared at her in derision if she picked a smaller weapon.

"Good…" The knight spoke. "Let's start then. My name is Valen Xrossun, girl. Misuse or mispronounce it and you will die by my blade."

Alteara nodded as she slowly approached the knight. Valen Xrossun removed his bone helm and iron cain. "And another thing..." He added. "I am not your master. You know who is. Call me master and he will incinerate you with less than a thought. Now, I'll begin the first lesson."

The knight clapped his gauntleted hands once. Behind him a portcullis opened slowly. Low, guttural noises and snorting sounded from the opening. Alteara looked fearfully at the opening. To her horror, a huge, muscular creature with short, brown fur strode into the room. The floor shook every time the creature's enormous hooves struck it. A pair of curved horns jutted out of the sides of the creature's bull-like head. A large, two-handed hammer, perfectly sized for the beast, rested in its hands.

Valen gestured towards the beast. "Can you defeat this minorus if it attacked you?" He asked.

Frightened, Alteara shook her head; her grip on her sword faltered as the minorus advanced on her. Valen walked towards her and handed her his sword. The weapon was a finely crafted, two-hander, almost as long as she was tall. It had an intricately engraved blade, marked with symbols she didn't understand.

"This sword will cut through steel and flesh without so much as vibrating with the effort." Valen said. "A blow from it will slay that minorus instantly. If I gave this to you, can you defeat it then?"

Alteara tried to shake her head, but her body was shaking so much that all she could do was stare at the knight. If she attacked the beast, if she could even lift Valen's sword, it would catch her with its hammer before she could close in enough to swing her weapon. "N-n-no…I c-can't…"

Valen thrust the sword to the floor. The monster continued to lumber towards them. It seemed a little hesitant to move past the knight. "Why not?" He asked. "Because that monster will pound you to red paste before you could swing it? True, so weaponry is not really the deciding factor."

The minorus took another step forward. In that moment Valen drew a knife. Alteara recognized it as the type that they issued to novices, and stabbed the minorus in the chest. The monster stared at its torso; Valen had stabbed it so hard that half of his arm was buried deep in its flesh.

Alteara watched in morbid fascination as Valen withdrew his arm. Blood burst from the opened wound and spilled on the floor. The minorus crashed to the ground; a gaping hole in its chest proved to be its undoing.

"Did you see how I killed this beast, girl? Why could I defeat it so easily with a weapon as pathetic as a knife when you couldn't do so with a powerful sword?"

Alteara stared at Valen's arm; blood caked the armor up to his forearm. "Because you're…stronger, than I am."

Valen dropped the knife on the dead body. "You're correct." He said. "The weapon is but a tool, girl. A powerful weapon means only that you have a good tool, without the skill to use it, it's worthless. What wins battles is might, not honor or discipline or love or anger. These things serve only to focus what might you have. Become strong first before you decide what to do with it. The strong are always victorious in battle, not the honorable or some such thing. Become strong and you can fight for a hundred different causes and emerge triumphant each time. Become weak and you will perish against your enemy, regardless of whether you are right or he's wrong." Valen picked up his weapon once more. "I've given my lecture, show me what you can do with that blade, girl! You were the daughter of a swordsman were you not? Show me some of the things you've learned and we'll work from there!"

Several gruelling hours of training with Valen had Alteara literally crawling to her room. Valen Xrossun was a brutal teacher; he had little patience for mistakes and corrected Alteara's with a sharp and painful rap with the sheath of is weapon. By the end of the session, Alteara's arms sagged from the constant sword swinging. She couldn't believe she had to go through this every day.

'Then again…there's nothing I'd rather do.' She thought to herself.

Alteara lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her Master Raven as a perfectionist, he would not tolerate anything less than what he wanted. His "friend" Valen was unfeeling and violent, how could she survive training with him? A small voice seemed to answer.

"Because they can give you your dream, Alteara, and you're willing to go through anything for that."

Alteara agreed mentally and promptly fell asleep.