“Lightning, Orin, is nature's purest form of expression. It is her wrath made manifest on Ouros and, as such, it is all but untameable. To grasp for control is folly. You cannot be the master of Lightning, for it obeys the will of nothing and no one. To truly embrace its power, to harness it for your own, you must first learn patience. You must allow the Element to choose you of its own will.”

I swallowed my frustration even as I drew a rasping breath, taking in the hot Ragoran air. My body was weak, weary from the intensity of the training Mastan was putting me through. The bruises I had accumulated even that very morning were not insignificant. I could barely move at all, sweat pouring down my forehead as I strained to keep my hand raised, reaching into myself for the Element which had continued to elude me. I refused to give him the satisfaction of asking for a break, despite the pain and exhaustion that rippled throughout my whole being. My stubbornness would outdo anyone, and that included Mastan D'viritazi. Besides, I'd asked him to give me everything he had, to push me to the point of breaking and beyond. I just hadn't realised how literally the fucker would take my words.

“Reach without reaching. Be gentle, but resolute. Lightning will not accept one who is weak, but nor will it work with one who tries to control it.”

I very nearly rolled my eyes at that little nugget of wisdom but said nothing as I sought to find my centre. After two weeks of Compressing and Saturating, slipping into my soul space was as easy as breathing. The latter of the two training methods, however, remained just as difficult as it had in the beginning.

Since Mastan had first taught me about Saturation, about infusing my soul with different Elements, I'd spent nearly every waking moment trying to master the discipline with mixed success. Space was definitely coming more easily now and I could maintain it for longer, but Lightning continued to be beyond me. Every morning I would try again and every morning I would fail before I could truly even begin. To call my lack of progress with Tessa's family Element frustrating would be an understatement.

I had thought that, of the three, Lightning would be the one which I related to the most strongly. Freedom, after all, was something I coveted and the Element might as well be the living embodiment of the word. That's not even mentioning the fact that I had manipulated it before, and did so every day with the aid of the Storm, yet all my efforts were in vain. I mentioned this to my Smiths in passing a few days ago but they could offer little no answers as to why I was finding it so difficult.

Tessa's face became clouded when I raised my concerns, but I was quick to assure her it had nothing to do with the lack of a Weapon to properly channel the Element. After all, I had first channelled the Dark on the way to Dunwellen and that was before Rionna's Forging. I'd also managed to do the same with Space without holding the blade. My savage Smith looked only half convinced by my lame explanation, her face plummeting as Elora rolled her eyes at my fumbling attempts to try and mitigate the damage I was causing.

I focused, pushing the moment from my mind before my concentration was broken entirely. I needed to succeed, to push past this block before it became too firmly ingrained. With the barest exertion of my will I appeared in the depths of the black abyss that surrounded the heart of my being. The obsidian flames of my soul waved merrily at my approach as I pushed myself towards them, either earnestly welcoming or pre-emptively mocking me before I failed once more, I couldn't be certain. Knowing my capricious soul as I did, perhaps it was a little of both. I kept my distance this time, not straying too close, and all but glaring at the bolts of blinding blue-white Lightning. Despite my aversion to vagaries and the strange turn of phrase that Knights were so fond of, I kept the lesson of Mastan's words fixed firmly at the forefront of my thoughts.

Reach without reaching. Be gentle, but resolute. Again with the contradictions, but at least this one made some kind of sense. I reached for the Lightning, both within and without, picturing an Idea of it in my mind. I looked back over my experiences with the Element, to when Tessa and I first Bonded, when we caused a Storm to bloom over the orphanage. I thought of when I first used Second Sword, how I became faster, lighter, my inhibitions falling away and allowing my body to simply react with absolute purpose. Tess and I had been training with the Technique since her battle with Cassandra, the two of us having taken tremendous strides forward in its mastery. Second Sword didn't seem to manifest Lightning externally, like First Sword did. It was the opposite, in fact. It filled our bodies with the Element, giving us a general boost in speed and reaction times, which was nothing that the Gift of the Storm didn't already provide. But Second Sword did far more than that. It showed us a path to victory. There was no other way to describe it. We called to Second Sword and it pointed the way. What this meant and what it had to do with Lightning was a mystery that continued to allude us, but I felt strongly that it had something to do with the Element's nature, its need to be unfettered and without restraint.

I sighed in frustration. The Idea was still weak, without depth. It was all surface, nothing cutting beneath the waves. The Storm that I summoned with Tess when Bonding felt like a strong starting point. It had been my introduction to the Element in many ways. I could still feel the way it struck me, the way it energized and set my skin ablaze, but Second Sword was still too new, too fresh. I didn't understand it, what it was truly capable of. I sought deeper meaning by looking to my recent battles with Mastan, to the moment when I'd managed to control the Lightning that he was sending through my body with the aid of the Storm. He'd allowed me to do so, of course, his control of the Element far greater than mine even while not Bonded, but that didn't mean there was nothing I could learn from the experience. I remembered the odd weight of it, the way it tried to escape the Storm and my hold. The Patriarch of the D'viritazi Clan was right in saying that it didn't wish to be controlled. Even in that brief instance I'd barely managed to do anything except inelegantly push it away. I'd found more success when Mastan and I had our second encounter on the Sky Bridge. It was the only moment that I could rightfully say was my first real success in manipulating the primal energy of the Element, but it was far from a perfect one. Again my touch was graceless, though that had much to do with the power behind Mastan's Technique. So great was the attack that it was all I could do to redirect it, and even then the bolt had very nearly taken my arm off.

I realised almost too late that the Lightning was beginning to withdraw. It knew. It sensed my inquietude, my hesitation, and my inability to secure a firm link between us. I watched as it flickered faintly, far dimmer than it had been only a moment before. The bolts had become almost transparent. Even the way they moved was slowed, crashing across my void-coloured flames languidly, drowned out by the black and silver of my other two Elements. I would've cursed then if I had the vocal chords to do so, panic beginning to set in as I reached desperately for the Storm. It was my cornerstone, my rock, my strongest connection to Lightning.

My Eye opened and the Element within my soul flared in response, roaring proudly as I smelled rain on the air and the hairs on my arms stood on end. The bolts solidified in an instant, slipping across my soul in flashes of incandescent light. Despite their lustre having returned, I didn't allow myself to become complacent. The Resonant Gift Tessa and I shared became a part of my Idea, solidifying the image of Lightning in my mind all the more.

The Storm, added to my other experiences with the Element, were enough to make my Idea firm, tangible. Yet I couldn't help but feel like something was still lacking. I'd come this far before, and every time I went further I failed.

Gritting my teeth, I steeled myself for what was to come.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed, casting my image of Lightning deep into the gently swaying inferno. I couldn't even count how many times I'd attempted this feat, but the moment I felt the esoteric Idea of my Element make contact with the conflagration that was my soul remained just as breathtaking as the first.

The world warped, shrinking and expanding, as waves of energy touched by all of my Elements began to burst out of the core located at my centre. I felt them pass through my constructed body, making the flesh and blood that still stood in the physical world shake and sweat with the sheer intensity of the assault. Saturating was different with every Element. Space simply came into being, as if it was always there, for it was. Lightning, however, wanted to put on a show.

It began from the bolts that arced across blaze. They began to pulse in time with my pounding heartbeat, changing from blue to white and then back again. I could feel their heat begin to sear my skin, steam rising as my body was pushed to the limits of endurance. The pulse sped up, the intervals becoming shorter until I was blinded, deprived of my perception as a final burst of the purest white exploded out from my soul space with desperate fervour.

I looked upon my flames anew. For they had been transformed.

I felt like I was looking upon the sky itself, for that was the only way to describe the shade of blue that rippled across my soul-fire. The tongues now shone with the same shade of white that had blinded me moments before, forcing me to look away even in my simple, passively constructed body. But even with my sight partially robbed, I could still make out the silver sparks of Space and the long shadows of the Dark which swirled in that endless blue.

When I Saturated my flames with Space, it felt oppressive, domineering. It was difficult to even stand before them. Lightning was different. For a few precious seconds all I felt was peace. They exuded emptiness, but of the comforting sort. As they swayed hypnotically I was reminded of a memory from long ago. It was no great event, really. There was no enemy nor trauma to overcome, yet it was special to me because of exactly that.

Pater and I had been taking Delithia, Gertrand and Sasta for a walk around the Commons. It was a glorious day, the kind which rarely visits Myrin with its dour and depressing weather. Many were out on the streets, all saying hello in passing as I trotted past with a little girl on my shoulders and another holding my hand. It was only a few, short hours, but it was a memory I still looked to in darker days to make my world a little brighter. It was a time in my life when there were no foes to face, no wars to wage and no superhuman assassins hunting me to the ends of the earth. It was just a normal day, spent in the company of those I loved most.

Soothing. Quiet. Safe.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

I was snapped back into myself by a sudden and undeniable roar. It struck me like a thunderclap and made the black abyss that surrounded me ripple with the savageness of such a shout. As I watched, the flames changed once more.

Blue turned to black as storm clouds ebbed up from the deep, pushing aside the kind Dark and rising to the surface. Lightning rippled through that storm, so different than the bolts that usually graced my soul. These were angry, furious. The sound that followed each flash of light like that of a ferocious apex predator that had spotted prey.

My Element seethed. The previously peaceful fire began to shake and tremble, almost as though the Storm within was bursting to break free. I grit my teeth and tried to keep control, to continue Saturating until it passed, but I knew it wouldn't. I had failed again. I knew it as surely as those watching my meditation did.

Then came the calm. All stopped, the flames frozen in place. A black, blue and white glacier atop an abyssal sea. Silence followed after and I held a breath as I prepared myself. I hated this part.

The explosion that followed that thought was instant, violent and unstoppable. I blinked as a wave of energy passed through my body at speed, Lightning rippling along my limbs, pain swift to appear soon after. I sought to find control in the Storm, to conquer it even though I knew it couldn't be done. My Element shrugged off my attempt at domination with no effort at all, tearing through my meagre attempts with a casual ease that sent shivers down my spine.

I didn't have time to shout before I was lifted from my feet and sent soaring out across the void. The last thing I saw before I was forcefully ripped from my soul space was my fire turning black once more as the Lightning, freed of its confines, once more tore across the Dark with merry cheer.

I opened my eyes and heaved, falling forwards as the world began to spin. I managed to catch myself with my hands at the very last moment, straining to find a breath and once more glad that I had decided to skip breakfast that morning. After the first three attempts I'd learned very quickly that the backlash from being cast out of my own soul resulted in my stomach voiding its contents.

“Damn,” I muttered to myself, a frown forming as my vision cleared. I was staring down at the rocky ground of Dealanaich, in the training ground that took us half way around the mountain and away from the civilisation of Nian and the Nest. “Thought I had it that time.”

“You pushed too far, too fast.” Mastan's unforgiving voice was anything but soothing, but I paid attention nonetheless. The King of Lightning had a strange way of speaking, at once cheerful but damning, all rolled up in a smugness that stemmed from his immense knowledge of the subject at hand. “If you allow yourself to panic, then the battle is already lost. You may as well retreat and conserve your strength for a second attempt.”

“Easy there, Mastan,” Boldrin grumbled, “The boy looks like death warmed over. Maybe wait a little before berating him.”

“Nah, its alright, boss,” I looked up to the mercenary commander, who was staring at Mastan with disapproving eyes. “I panicked and got what I deserved. I thought I saw some way of reaching it, so I pushed. He's right.”

“I am rarely wrong, especially when it comes to the handling of Lightning.” Mastan said to Boldrin bitingly. “Perhaps you wish to take over, Boldrin? Your own training methods are hardly what one would call humane.”

“Least I don't kick the lad when he's down.” Boldrin said as he walked up to me, patting my shoulder gently. I continued to heave, placing my forehead against the cool earth and trying to ignore the heat of the sun beating down on my sensitive back. My skin already appeared half cooked, but that was the usual result of failing to channel my savage Element. I watched as wisps of steam rose from my body, tumbling through the air.

“Don't want to say you're a liar, Boldrin,” I smiled as I pushed myself to a sitting position. “But I think you have done that a few times.”

The giant faltered before grinning back at me sheepishly. “Aye, I have at that. But there was always a lesson in it. Usually that you shouldn't have let me take you down in the first place. Besides, I know how much you can take.”

“And there is a lesson in this as well,” Mastan pointed out. “Every failure reveals some hint of truth that will lead to success.”

“And what's to be learned here, exactly?” I asked the man as I sighed. “How many times have I tried this now? Fifty attempts? Sixty? I'm no closer to Saturating my flames with Lightning than when I began, and you haven't exactly been forthcoming with answers as to why that is.”

It was true. Every time I failed, Vera and Mastan would say little to nothing to help me. Instead they would repeat that I had to be patient before we moved onto the next phase of training. I found their hands off teaching style more than a little frustrating. I was so used to being instructed by Boldrin and Tessa, spoiled by their forthrightness. While they would never say what I had done wrong outright, they would hammer the point home in other ways. Painful though they were, those lessons I could understand and internalise. This vague spiritual bullshit was beginning to get aggravating.

“To believe you are without hope after a mere two weeks is folly, Orin,” Mastan pointed out cheerfully. “You have already come further than any Knight of your age could be expected to, doubly so when taking into account that you hadn't begun Compression training until only a few short months ago. The strides you've taken in your fighting ability and use of Storm alone is exceptional. You cannot do everything flawlessly the first time. Patience, like I said. Among the Elements of the Five Houses, Lightning is considered among the most difficult to work with. It will take time, but trust me, you are on the right path.”

“You're doing well, Orin.” Vera spoke up, the First Knight kneeling next to me as she nudged a water-skin into my hands. “You'll get there.”

I nodded to Vera gratefully and greedily drank from the skin, drawing in the icy water like my life depended on it. When I eventually came up for air, I was feeling much better, dumping the remaining dregs onto my head and shivering as it dribbled down the back of my neck. There was no better feeling on a hot Ragoran day than the frozen feeling running the length of my spine, one which I had begun to appreciate more and more since arriving in the hot climbs of Nian. “I hope so. I can't help but feel that every time I try, Lightning is drifting further and further away.”

“Because it can sense your emotions, your own inner turmoil regarding its use,” Mastan pointed out gently as he squatted before me. “It is a cruel cycle you have been locked into. You expected to achieve success on your first attempt, as you did with Space. When you failed, it shook your confidence.”

“Aye, that sounds right,” I sighed as I pushed myself painfully to my feet, wincing as I stared down at my reddened hands. “But it isn't all. There's something I'm missing. My Idea seems lame, shallow.”

Mastan nodded sagely. “I felt it. You were struggling, trying too hard to find meaning.”

I sighed, pondering the puzzle as I finally managed to push myself to my feet. The pain in my body was already beginning to recede. The agony I experienced while Saturating was much like Compression, though to a significantly larger degree. I used to enjoy the feeling of pulling my soul in, the ache that accompanied it evidence that I was making progress. Saturation was a far more miserable affair, but at least the recovery time was just as short.

“Then how do I find deeper meaning?” That question confused even me, but the King of Lightning seemed strangely talkative and I wanted to make the most of it, even if it was like drawing blood from a stone.

Mastan shook his head hesitantly and I feared that I'd failed before even beginning. “This is one of those moments where I fear telling you too much. All I can do is guide you, nothing more.”

“I know,” I replied, only slightly frustrated. “Every Knight is different.”

Mastan beamed. “Exactly right. I can do much to steer you in the correct direction, but I'm afraid I cannot take you by the hand and show you the way. I must endeavour to not overstep my bounds, it could destroy your progress.”

“Least you know you'll never get that from me, lad,” Boldrin grinned. “If you make a mistake, I'll let you know.”

I winced at the rather painful memories that such a statement caused to rise within my mind. I couldn't say he was wrong. I wouldn't forget learning under Boldrin anytime soon, nor the mistakes that had left me beaten and bloodied many a time during my tenure with the Brigade. As barbaric as such a practice appeared to others, I couldn't complain about the results. There few that could match me, at least amongst the warriors that I'd met. Of course, I was still woefully behind in my Knight's training, but my skill and grit seemed to be making up for my shortcomings in that regard. For now, at least. I'd finally reached the point where my natural talent had failed me. I'd known it would happen just as it had while I'd been learning how to fight, but it stung nonetheless. Especially so when seeing just how much progress Tess and Elora were making as Smiths under Theadora and Annabelle's tutelage.

“Aye, that's reassuring, boss,” I laughed at the giant, hiding my turbulent thoughts as I continued to think upon how to reach Lightning. How could I make the Idea deeper? How could I reach something that didn't want any interaction with me beyond sitting in my soul? My thoughts were going round and round in circles trying to find an answer. It wasn't until several minutes had passed me by that I realised my three teachers were all staring at me, each bearing a look of understanding on their faces.

“You push too hard, Orin,” Mastan repeated softly. “I see the gears turning in your head. You have long since been accustomed to dealing with your problems head on, but this is not one that can be defeated through sheer force of will. It worked for Space. In fact, considering what you've told me about it your natural stubbornness no doubt helped tremendously in that regard, but every Element is different.”

“I need to be patient,” I stated, perhaps louder than intended. My vexation was beginning to show despite my efforts to hide it.

“I know it is irritating,” Mastan said with a short chuckle, his sky-blue eyes taking on a nostalgic sheen as he looked to long ago. “My father used the same method with me and I cursed him for months. Only when I succeeded for the first time was I finally able to see why he trained me like he did. You will too, in time.”

“I get it, Mastan,” I replied with a sigh. “I'll think on what you've said.”

“See that you do,” Mastan nodded solemnly. “All who know of Heirs focus on only one thing: the power they wield. Little thought is ever given to the problems an Heir faces when learning to control their Elements. This is made all the harder when realising that you have no inherent connection to them. They are not a part of your blood as in the case of others, after all.”

I raised an eyebrow at that. Mastan caught the expression and chuckled.

“As you know, Orin, you are not descended from the First Knight. I can assure you that, when you were first discovered in the Empire, the investigation to determine the origin of your line was rather exhaustive. I carried out most of the research myself. You are the son of farmers who were descended from farmers, going back a thousand years.”

“You cannot possibly know for certain if that was the case,” Vera insisted, folding her arms. “The Hall is resourceful, but the ability to track a single peasant family through centuries is next to impossible, even for them.”

“You would be correct, Lady Vera, if not for the fact that the Five Families were keeping close tabs on all those who could be considered potential Heirs. As you know, the Hall is rather possessive of any who have the power of the First Knight. All of his descendants, and even off-shoots with the smallest amount of his blood, are closely monitored by agents across the continent. Orin's family never interacted with any who could claim kinship with the founder of the Hall. Not once in recorded history.”

“It still seems a little far-fetched.” Vera looked doubtful. “It's more likely that the First Knight or one of his descendants had a roll in the hay with one of Orin's ancestors and neglected to tell anyone about it.”

“If you need any more proof then all you have to do is look to Alice.” Mastan looked to me apologetically. “I am told that the Imperial Princess mastered Saturation of Lightning within only three days, Orin.”

“Because she carries the First Knight's blood?” I asked as realisation began to take hold.

“Yes. Alice has an engrained connection to the D'viritazi Clan, one which makes Lightning more receptive to her touch. You are something new, fresh. A clean slate as it were.” Mastan continued as he began to pace, hand behind his back. “You might say this leaves you at a disadvantage.”

“I might,” I replied with a roll of my eyes. “I don't see how I could take it any other way.”

Mastan shook his head. “I believe the opposite is true. Alice and the Heirs who came before her have an natural link with their Elements that has been passed down since the First, but that is a detriment as much as a boon.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that Alice can get by with using a 'shallow Idea' as you put it. She can use a flawed image of Lightning and still Saturate with relative ease,” Mastan pointed out with a raised hand. “You cannot. If you tried... well, we already know what happens when you try.”

“I get burned,” I replied wryly, examining my red skin, which had already begun to return to its normal colour, the sting thankfully receding. “But how does that help me?”

“I'm glad you asked.” Mastan became animated as he walked back and forth, sky-blue eyes alight with excitement. “Your existence raises many questions, Orin. I have strained to answer them since the moment I learned of your birth. For example, why was the First Knight so powerful? Even today he is considered to be a far greater warrior than any of his descendants. They walk in the long shadow he casts, unable to reach the heights he once achieved. I have a theory as to why that is. Like you, the First began with nothing. He could not rely on an age-old connection with his Elements to become powerful, he needed to find his own way. I cannot even imagine how difficult a feat that was. All Knights have a connection with their Elements, as when a Smith bonds with them they activate the power of their bloodlines. You, like the First, do not have a bloodline to activate. Your soul is pure and unsullied.”

“So you think the lad will be slower off the starting point but finish stronger in the end,” Boldrin said with a snort of derision. “You talk too much, Mastan. We've not the time for a speech. Speak plainly, the boy will understand.”

Mastan looked to the mercenary with a hint of irritation. “Crudely put, but indeed correct. Your Ideas must be complex to make use of your Elements, Orin. In the short term, this will mean you might fall behind someone like Alice. But I have reason to believe you will one day exceed her and all others who came before.”

Mastan had that strange obsessive gleam to his eye. It was one I had seen before in the Great Hall, when he'd described how important I was to the future of Ouros. I was more used to it now, though it still took me aback at times. After two weeks of intense training, I'd noticed it more than once. The way he spoke, the way he acted towards me when talking of my power as an Heir, would become strangely charged, his eyes pinned and staring into the distance. The King of Lightning was clearly extremely invested in my progress to the exclusion of all else, including his own family. I couldn't help but be disturbed by that fact, but that didn't mean I needed to dismiss his words because of my dislike for the man himself. Hearing that the First Knight went through something similar to my own experiences, true or not, actually helped in a way and relieved some of the stress that was piling up in my gut.

It was far from gone, but I hadn't expected it to after hearing a few pretty words about how special I am. I would only feel right again after I succeeded, and I would succeed. Failure was not an option in my mind. To keep Elora and Tess safe, to continue down this road that I'd inadvertently started down, I needed to master Lightning.

“My experiences with Lightning are few and far between,” I stated finally, after a few moments of silence had passed between the four of us. “The Storm is strong, but the others fall short when combined into one Idea. Even Second Sword feels incomplete.”

Mastan grinned as Vera smiled gently, patting me on the shoulder. Boldrin looked between the two before snorting in derision and staring at me with a hint of humour on his face. “I think that means you're on the right track, lad.”

“Boldrin, allow Orin to think,” Vera snapped, all but glaring at the giant.

The mercenary commander raised his hands in defeat, backing away as he muttered under his breath. Honestly, it was comforting that at least one of the people teaching me how to be a better Knight didn't care for the Hall's way of instruction. I could always rely on Boldrin to give it to me straight, but I also grudgingly understood the reason why Vera and Mastan did things the way they did. Every Knight truly was different, even those who shared the same Element. Mastan and I both have an affinity for Lightning, but the way he interprets and controls it could be vastly dissimilar to my own. In this, I needed to find my own way, regardless of my own reservations.

“Space wasn't easy, but I had more to pull on,” I continued, following my train of thought. “Using First Sword at Dunwellen, being attacked by Zelato, interacting with the Silver Eye. Shit, even the Forging of Rionna. So... is it really that simple? All I need is more interactions with Lightning?"

“If I were you, that is where I would begin.” Mastan nodded, trying to hide his excitement but failing miserably. Again, I could tell he was holding something back but... well, blood from a stone.

"But I've been saying that since the beginning," I asked with a quirked brow. "Now you speak up and tell me to carry on doing what I already intend to do? What's changed, Mastan?"

"Nothing, Orin. That is exactly the point."

That sounded just vague enough to be passed off as wisdom. Should've expected nothing less.

“Right, that's enough of all this Saturation nonsense," Boldrin said with a grin, cracking his knuckles crudely as he spat onto the dusty dome of Dealanaich. "Time for group sparring, lad. Nothing'll help you think more than getting knocked about for a few hours."

I smiled at the giant, matching his own expression. I stretched my arms above my head, twisting and turning, checking myself for any sign of residual damage from my dance with Lightning. Thankfully, the pain I'd felt was gone, the healing powers of a Knight showing their usefulness once more.

As soon as Boldrin said the words, I felt my frustration fade away, replaced by an abundant enthusiasm. Perhaps he was right and this was exactly what I needed. I considered pushing the King of Lightning for an answer, but decided against it. I doubted I would get anything out of him anyway.

“Keep a hold of that thought, Orin,” Vera murmured intently as she stepped up to me, three practice weapons in hand, retrieved from the outskirts of the natural training arena. “But don’t focus on it to the exclusion of all else. Remember, a Knight is never alone. You'll get there in the end.”

“Aye, keep a hold of that thought, lad,” Boldrin cut in with a cheery wave. “I'm about to do my best to knock it out of you.”

I couldn't help but laugh at that as Vera passed me one of the training blades hilt first before chucking the second she carried at Mastan's head. The King of Lightning caught the blade easily, chuckling as he lowered the sword into a defensive position.

My three Instructors had fallen into a familiar rhythm with one another since my training had begun in earnest. Vera and Mastan took the lead on my abilities as a Knight while Boldrin handled shaping my combat skills. Though they all worked to help me improve, the mercenary commander and the First Knight still had no real love for the head of the D'viritazi Clan. The two were unlikely to forget what Mastan pulled on the day we arrived and I didn't want them to. While I was almost positive that the man was only interested in making me stronger, I still held a healthy amount of caution whenever I was interacting with him. A man who willingly served up his own daughter in the name of the greater good was not one you placed your faith in.

Yet here I was, being taught by the man who hurt my Tess.

A wave of anger accompanied that thought, but I was quick to keep it contained. Despite the damage that Mastan had done to Tessa, she was beginning to flourish here in Nian. Since managing to use Second Sword, my mercenary's sense of self seemed to have been reaffirmed. Tess was throwing herself into training with far more aplomb than before, even interacting with Theadora according to Elora. The relationship between my Smith and her mother remained strained, with them not speaking outside of training, but it was progress of a kind and for that I was grateful.

Tess was also spending more time in the company of her sisters, with Freida, Tilia and Dawn all regularly spending time watching my Smiths train against one another in Lilian's arena. I joined them when I could, but I rarely arrived in time to join their sessions. I had yet to spar with Elora, which I was more than thankful for. The idea of fighting my wife still seemed... wrong to me. The Princess had raised the subject of our future bout as though it was a certainty more than once which had done nothing to lessen my doubt. My savage Smith was no help in the matter, bringing it up whenever she could and trying to back me into a corner. I believe she enjoyed watching me squirm, looking on with a grin as Elora needled me.

I hadn't seen Lilian and Cassandra in a few days, though I was told that was to do with their own responsibilities, Cassie's to the military and Lilian to the D'viritazi as the Clan's future head. Tessa had informed me that they would join us for dinner at some point in the near future when their duties allowed.

Hearing Tess, the mercenary and ferocious warrior, make dinner plans... well, it was heartwarming.

Watching Tess become more open was something to behold. She was more relaxed in the presence of her sisters, more willing to engage. It was strange to see, but a welcome sight nonetheless. Elora too seemed more at ease since we'd arrived in Nian. Now that we were in one place, working towards a goal, everything seemed to fall back into place, the hardships of the road falling away. The fact that Elora and I were treated as family by the D'viritazi sisters helped endlessly in that regard, especially for Elora. My Princess had already become fast friends with Tilia, Freida and Dawn. They seemed to welcome her as though she were one of them, which pleased my Princess immeasurably.

That wasn't to mention just how well they were doing in training. I felt the results every morning when we sparred with Mastan while Bonded. Tessa's control was becoming more honed and delicate than it was before, with little wasted Aurum, especially when handling the Storm. Elora, too, was growing as a Smith. While Theadora could do little for her Elements, Annabelle was able to instruct the Princess on what it was like to face someone who fought with Darkness. Elora told Tessa and I during one of our discussions that she believed there was a lot more we could do with the Dark, especially so seeing as I was so compatible with the Element. My Princess had a few ideas as to how to utilise it but was staying silent on the matter for the moment. She wanted to make sure she had something solid before revealing her findings. I'd often find her awake before me now, sitting on our balcony and pouring over the black tome given to me by Julian, scribbling notes in the corners with more than a little ink to be found on her palms.

Tess, more often than not, could be found in Lilian's training grounds. She believed she was close to a breakthrough in regards to her Weapon, right on the cusp of its Forging. The enthusiasm that I saw in her now was incredible. She also smiled far more, especially in the presence of her family.

My Smiths were growing by leaps and bounds.

Even the thought of them made me smile as I swung the wooden blade in my hand. Our need to be near one another had lessened after that first session we'd spent separated, but it was by no means gone. I still felt the need to be near them constantly, though it was far more manageable now. Tess and Elora had echoed my thoughts on the matter. Mastan and Vera hadn't stated it specifically, but I think that was one of the reasons that Knights and Smiths trained separately, to ensure that we didn't become too reliant on the Bond. I didn't think I would ever truly get over being away from them, but then I didn’t want to. I felt most comfortable when they were nearby, after all. Thoughts of my Smiths made me look within, back to my swirling black flames. They were again back to normal, though the Lightning that rippled across my soul-fire seemed strangely hostile, spitting at my consciousness. They would be like that for a while, but would settle down after a few hours if past experience was anything to go by. The little bastard was a spiteful little shit and didn't forgive my failures easily. I glanced at my golden connections and immediately felt the touch of Elora and Tess. They were checking on me, making sure that I was alright. My Smiths had taken to doing this after the first time I'd failed to Saturate Lightning. I knew that if I didn't respond, they would immediately come to me, fearing the worst.

It had happened the very first time I'd attempted the feat. I'd nearly been knocked unconscious by the shocking blast that repelled me from my soul realm. I'd woken to find Elora desperately trying to wake me while Tess had one of her daggers to Mastan's throat, her expression filled with murderous rage as she hovered protectively over me and the Princess.

I'd calmed the situation down, but I had no intention of putting them through something like that again. I immediately send a pulse of calm down the Bond, touched by sadness to let them know that I'd failed once more. Their response was immediate and filled with determination and love. Speaking with emotions remained strange to me, but we'd developed our own shorthand as time had gone by. I could tell what one was thinking with only a few impressions now, as could Elora. Tess was improving, but I could still read her far better than she could me. Something which annoyed her to no end.

“Distractions can kill, Orin! I won't warn you again!”

I ducked, slipping beneath Boldrin's blow that was aimed at my head, sensing its coming with the aid of the Storm. I focused my Gift on my mentor, watching as the wind pulled at his clothes and painted a picture of the world around me. I threw myself after the man, aiming to spear him through the chest with my blade. He deflected the attack with ease before returning the favour with a follow-up flurry of blistering strikes. Even with the Storm, I was hard pressed to keep up with them, falling back as I defended, waiting for my opportunity.

Unfortunately, it didn't make an appearance before Vera joined the melee.

Spinning her recently retrieved glaive, an approximation of Illithin, Vera struck out at me. The danger with the First Knight's fighting style, one which I'd become painfully aware of on the road to Nian, was the sheer range that her weapon provided her. If Vera maintained her distance she was all but unbeatable and she had more than one method of doing exactly that.

I huffed, falling backward to avoid the glaive and the sword that were hot on my trail. I blocked Vera's first attack only to feel Boldrin's blade crack against my ribs. I grunted but didn't falter, instead pushing the Storm to its limits and trying to dredge whatever advantage it could give me.

For a moment, I believed it had worked. I pushed against the haft of Vera's glaive, aiming to shove her aside and strike while she was off-balance, but the First Knight spun away from me, twirling as she built up momentum in a flash and aimed to cut my legs with a low strike. I leapt into the air as the wooden blade dragged against the rock and caused dust to rise. I barely blocked Boldrin's terrific overhead blow that aimed to capitalise on my weak position. I was driven to my knees by the sheer force of it, my own weapon clanging against the top of my head and giving me cause to wince.

Vera smashed the pommel of the glaive against my chest, my sword still tangled in Boldrin's own. I felt the wind leave my lungs but let the force of her strike carry me backwards. I rolled across the earth and jumped to my feet once more, focusing on positioning, on the blade in my hand, as adrenaline coursed through my body.

These battles were always one-sided. I stood no chance of defeating Boldrin even with the use of the Storm, never mind when he was aided by another warrior of his calibre. With a glaive in hand, Vera was a force of nature, much like the Ice she commanded as a Knight. Her expression was a contradiction of Boldrin's, a cold stare to his wild grin. They stood side by side, preparing themselves for another pass.

I felt Mastan's wooden blade cut the air.

I deflected it and immediately went on the offensive. One of the rules of our sessions was that the King of Lightning was not allowed to use the D'viritazi's ability to harness their Element, but the man didn't need it to be considered a formidable warrior. Even without my advantage, he was still as fast as I was, his whip-like motions with the slim sabre reminding me of the brief glimpse I'd had of Cassandra's fighting style. That made sense, he'd trained her after all and she was considered one of the deadliest fighters in Ragora.

Mastan and I exchanged a few exploratory strikes as Boldrin and Vera made to join. He was keeping me contained, barely putting any effort in at all. He didn't need to. All he had to do was wait for my other two instructors to arrive and that would be the end of that. I grimaced but wasn't deterred. I'd been through this exercise enough times to know how it ended. When it ended, however, that was something I could have a little control over.

I rushed Mastan, pushing the Storm to its limit. The increase in speed and reaction time wasn't large by any means, but that didn't mean it was insignificant. I took a single moment to think on how I could take Mastan out of the fight and made a decision in an instant. I struck out with my blade, employing the very same overhead strike that Boldrin had used on me only moments before. Mastan rose to meet it, the wooden jarring my fingers as they met with a crash. Sliding my blade down the length of Mastan's own, I used my left hand to push against the flat of the sabre, moving it aside by a few inches. It wasn't much, but it was enough to get the man's attention. Mastan's eyes widened and a smile appeared as my blade slid past his guard and struck his arm. The King of Lightning's grip loosened and I ripped the blade away, disarming him.

So concentrated was I on performing the act perfectly that I didn't spot Mastan's fist before it had already collided with my cheek, causing stars to appear as I gasped. In the moment of hesitation that followed, I felt the blade of a glaive against the back of my legs.

Shit.

Vera's strike took my feet from under me and Boldrin's follow-up helped me to the ground in a none to gentle manner. My sword tumbled away as I groaned, rolling onto my side to try and expose as little of my body as possible to the hardened rock of Dealanaich. It seemed the session was to be shorter than I expected it to be.

“An adapted disarm from Bolishi's treatise on the rapier, using the flat of your hand in place of the dagger." Mastan clapped his hands and laughed into the air. “Terrific, Orin. Well done.”

“Thank you,” I wheezed sarcastically, pushing myself to a sitting position once more. I batted away the dust that had risen upon my fall and sighed as I looked up to the grinning King of Lightning. My being knocked to the ground during training seemed to be becoming more and more of a habit. “I thought it would work for the longsword. In hindsight I probably should have given it a bit more thought. I won't be using it again."

“That's what these sessions are for, Orin,” Vera stressed. “So you can find your own way of fighting beyond Boldrin's style. You're going to do worse before you begin to improve.”

“It was well performed, lad. A tricky little move, that one, but it's a bit flamboyant. Effective, true, and you can never have too many ways of disarming your opponent, but I'd suggest stowing it. Any technique that slow has no place on the battlefield. A duel of dandies, maybe, but not against anyone who knows what they're doing. You should focus on disarming maneuvers, but leave the fancy techniques to idiotic Nobles who like to play war with their mates. Simple is best, Orin. Nothing makes a Knight shit themselves more than losing their Weapon, even if they can summon it right back into their hand. Throws them off balance,” Boldrin explained as he grasped my shoulder, pulling me to my feet.

“You've gotten a bit faster, I reckon. Even without the Storm. Your footworks sharper as well. I saw some of Vera in there when you were backing away.”

He was right. Vera, Mastan and Boldrin were no doubt three of the greatest warriors I'd ever faced. I was learning much from their sessions, taking aspects of each and adding them to my own style. There was always more that I could learn from Boldrin in terms of technique, but it was the small things that I was beginning to notice now, like the positioning of his fingers along the grip of his sword, or the slightest shift in weight before an attack. Tiny details, but ones that could add up to a great advantage given enough time. I could learn little from the way Vera used her weapon, but the way she moved was something else entirely. For the First Knight, everything was about positioning. She always seemed to adjust herself to maximise her advantage, be it a slight incline on the ground or a small grouping of sharp rocks to throw off her opponent's footwork. I'd noticed this first on our journey across the continent, but I'd dismissed it as something I didn't need. I favoured overbearing and crushing attacks, rarely needing to use the terrain to increase my chances of victory. After hearing Mastan, Vera and Boldrin's comments on my fighting ability, and the enemies I may one day face, I realised I needed to adapt if I wanted to take the next step with the sword. I'd gone as far as I could go with Boldrin's nameless style. To grow, I needed to change. Evolve.

Vera smirked, eyes alight with amusement. "I'm glad you see some merit in how I fight. Making use of your surroundings is a basic instruction in any martial discipline, but there are few who use it to the fullest. If you master it... well, it will take your fighting prowess above and beyond what you expect. Sometimes it is the simplest changes that provide the greatest of rewards. Keep at it, Lord. You're well on your way.

I was pleased that Vera and Boldrin had noted my progress but improving was easier said than done. I spent much of my free time going through all the books sent to me by Mastan on martial styles of all kinds, not just those limited to the sword. I'd found a number of them with potential, while others were all but useless. Still, it was something, and I couldn't complain about being able to cross swords with three teachers of such skill. It was a slow process, but I could feel... something beginning to take shape. A path of the blade, one all my own. It might take months or even years to be fully realised, but I was willing to walk it.

Learning what Mastan was truly capable of was far more difficult than discerning the abilities of Vera, or even Boldrin. The man rarely fought with all his strength. I immediately sensed that, of the three, I could learn the least from Mastan in terms of fighting ability. I'd had the same thought when watching Cassandra fight. Our styles were too different. His seemed almost entirely reliant on speed to see the day through. I used my speed, true, but I employed blistering strength in consort to ensure victory. There were a few of his attacks which I could adapt, but I would need to see them more before I'd feel confident enough to even attempt it.

Something told me I would get many of those chances in future.

“You've improved, lad, but that performance was still weak.” Boldrin, quick to make sure I didn't get a big head, brought me down a peg. “I expect you to last more than a minute. We go again.”

“Fine by me, boss,” I grinned, preparing myself for the violence to come. “I'm aiming to win this time.”

“We'll see about that, lad,” Boldrin laughed uproariously.

Silence was quick to follow Boldrin's mountain shaking laughter. Mastan, Vera and my mentor shifted in place, their eyes fixed to mine as I gazed at them through the Storm. All hints of humour fell away from their faces as my three Instructors took in the seriousness of my expression, the gravity of my posture. I had been caught off guard before, but not this time.

I took a breath.

They came for me.

I raised my sword to meet them.