The boy cringed back from me, fear twisting his handsome features, as he held up a sword longer than himself in a vain gesture of defiance.

I remember...I remembered...another boy who had faced an unbeatable opponent. Young and inexperienced, grief-stricken and filled with terror, that boy had been resigned to being one more amidst the slaughter around him.

My hand pulled back.

“Whoa, boy. Whoa. Be calm, lad.”

He swallowed hard and then slowly lowered the weapon.

His hair was black as midnight, and the blocky features of his father had been softened by his mother’s exotic beauty. Handsome and tall for his age, his strong body boded well for his strength as a grown man.

If he lived so long.

I slowly put out a hand and took hold of the sword gingerly, as if treating with a wild animal.

“Lad, we need to get you gone from here. Your life depends on it. Your father...he told me to take you to safety. Will you come with me?”

“Will my father be there?”

I shook my head.

“I’m sorry, boy.”

My hypocrisy filled my throat, even as fear lodged a boulder in my belly.

Now the tears welled up in his sun blue eyes, and his shoulders shook. Salty trails wound down his cheeks, and he sniffed and turned his head to rub his nose against his home-spun shirt.

“Come, boy. We need to go, and we need to go now.”

“Can I bring my sword? My father gave it to me.”

Though he couldn’t see it, I closed my eyes for a moment, wondering how I could be doing this. Why I was doing this. What was I thinking?

From beneath my cloak, I pulled out a scabbard and blade.

“Your father...gave me this to give to you. Your birthright.”

His eyes were glued to the weapon in my hand, and instinctively he reached for it. I shook my head and put it back under my cloak.

“Come, we have to hurry. I’ll carry the sword for now so it doesn’t weigh you down.”

Finally, the boy’s body language eased as a hint of trust crossed his features. If only he knew…

We fled in the night.

___________________________________

I placed my hand on Veritas’s hilt.

“Are you sure you don’t recognize him?” I asked.

I’m sorry, Paol. Something in me responds when you look in his face, but clarity eludes me. it’s like when you have a word on the tip of your tongue but can’t quite bring it to mind.

“But he’s one of the 200?”

The way he talked with you makes it very clear that he is.

“Are all of the 200 as fast and as powerful as him?”

So long as they don’t respawn, any of the 200 will be tremendously advanced. After respawn, it takes time to regain what you’ve lost. How quickly you regain your previous power seems to vary, and no one knows the equation that determines it.

“The equation?”

The--

“Paol, have you been thinking about what you’ll choose?” Rafe asked.

We had practiced twice since our first bou t, and my Swords skill had hit level 20. I had to choose a new ability.

“I’m still not sure,” I answered uncertainly.

Quick Draw had been offered again as an option as had Power Strike.

Iron Skin - Adds one point of armor per 2 levels of Swords.

Cost: none

Cooldown: none

“Remember,” he mentioned. “Though Power Strike is a common ability, it’s the basis for many advanced abilities down the tree.”

I frowned. “Down the tree? What do you mean?”

Rafe opened his mouth and then closed it.

“I just mean that Power Strike can be much more impressive down the road. Some people never advance it because they never get the chance--their Swords skill never levels up to give them another ability, or if it does, they get a brand new ability instead of evolving their old one.. I have a feeling you won’t have that problem.”

I pursed my lips. Of the options before me, I had relegated Power Strike to last place. After seeing what Rafe could do with Quick Draw, I was very tempted to take the ability. Being able to attack an opponent that way, even before they knew what was happening, gave you an immediate advantage that could determine the fight on the spot.

I also liked Iron Skin because it would keep me alive. I really wanted to stay alive. Who knew if I would respawn again? It wasn’t as if I had a guarantee in writing from the Paraclete, whatever it was.

“What about you, Veritas? What do you think I should choose?”

All three have their strengths. One way to look at it would be to determine what you feel is lacking in your fighting ability arsenal and try to fill that gap.

After deliberating and struggling with the decision all day, I finally decided on Iron Skin. Sure it was only good for a point every two levels, but my Swords skill was already at level 20. That would mean that anything that did less than 11 points of damage wouldn’t even scratch me.

“Decent choice,” Rafe said. “But then again, none of them were bad choices. I’m awfully curious what will happen when you reach Apprentice level.”

“Apprentice level? What’s that?”

He answered, “Every 25 levels, your skill will change your expertise. At level 25 you go from Novice to Apprentice. Level 50 is for Journeyman, and Level 75 is Master.”

“Is there anything beyond level 75?” I asked.

He chuckled, “Level 100 makes you a Grandmaster, but almost no one gets that high.”

“You’ve lived a long time. Do you know anyone who was a Grandmaster?”

He shrugged. “There have been several that I know of. Precious few people have the affinity as well as the temperament to train to become a Grandmaster. It takes years of single-minded focus. Well, either that or you participate in many wars.”

“If it takes so long, does that mean that many of the 200 are Grandmasters at swordplay?”

He shook his head. “While it’s true that the 200 hundred have the luxury of years of training and fighting, not all of them have the inclination, and precious few of them have the dedication to reach Grandmaster.

“So what happens when a person hits one of those milestones?”

“Well, many--maybe even all--of your abilities will get a boost. You may also get another ability. Or you might not. Sometimes it seems as if the system is reinforcing your gains before you move to the next stage.”

“Is everything he says true? That normal people don’t choose their abilities, it’s just chosen for them based on their inclinations? That moving from Novice to Apprentice can have profound effects?”

Becoming an Apprentice will almost certainly change your abilities, evolving or strengthening them or both. As for normal people not choosing their abilities? I’m...not sure if that’s correct. I’ve been wielded by many expert warriors, and when a warrior hits a milestone to get a new ability, they are given a choice, just like you. I see it clearly if I’m in contact with my owner. That’s why the abilities most swordsmen take for themselves seem to somehow fit together. Strangely, none of them ever mentions the abilities that they’ve chosen to reject. I believe that their memories are...fuzzed...somehow.

“Come,” Rafe interrupted my conversation with Veritas. “Let’s get some more practice in. I want to see what happens when you hit 25.”

He smiled wolfishly at me and held out the wooden longsword. I accepted it with a sigh and apologized to the bruises on my body.

CRACK!

The wooden swords crashed against each other and resumed their dance from the day before.