By The Sword - Homepage

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I was on my ass again.

Jason stood above me, triumphant. His lips split slowly into a smirk so arrogant I could’ve sworn it was demonic. But before I could glare at him—before I could even think about saying anything else, he extended his arm.

The gesture calmed my temper and I nodded, accepting his outstretched hand. He pulled me up with more strength than I expected, causing me to stumble on shaky legs. I had to bite back a curse as it took me far too long to even balance myself.

“Want to go again?” he asked, making sure that same smug grin was there for each and every word. I narrowed my eyes, my lips tweaking upward at his question. At this point, it might as well have been rhetorical. Jason knew I wanted to go again; he was just taunting me. But remembering where I was—remembering that it was a privilege at all for me to be using their training room as I was, I gave an answer anyway.

“Of course. You don’t think I’m done already, do you?”

Jason chuckled. “I’d like to think not, but from the way you fight I can’t be so sure.” He tilted his head at me and twirled the wooden training sword in his hand. I almost wanted to laugh, but I stopped myself. Because ultimately, he was right. We’d sparred thrice already, and I’d lost pitifully each time. Even despite the fact that he hadn’t used any of his magic.

Ever since I’d arrived in the Ranger’s lodge, all I’d done was menial tasks. It was all I’d been able to do in order to keep my place to stay. No matter how much I disliked it, running to get groceries, cleaning, and sorting weapons were all better alternatives to living out on the street. To them I was some nobody that just happened to get lucky enough to break one of their own out of prison, but I still wanted more.

And for my new, painfully incapable body, sparring with Jason was exactly that. For the first time in a while, it was an actual uphill battle. It was a challenge. The kind of thing that made my blood boil in the best way.

Seeing the way I flexed my fingers on the training blade and readied my stance, Jason must’ve assumed I was ready to go. So instead of dragging it out, he readied himself as well and stared me right in the eyes. “Same rules as last time?”

I nodded, dropping the grin off my face. Truly, I knew the techniques. I knew how my body was supposed to move. The maneuvers, the attacks, the dodges—they were all clear in my mind. And I could even anticipate most of his strikes.

But in the previous duels, I hadn’t been able to execute. That had been the common theme. No matter how much I knew, I wasn’t able to stop his attacks amid my unrefined movements.

Jason’s smug smile dropped off with each passing second. I took the moment to consider him as well. He was a more talented swordsman than I’d first thought; I had to give him that. I’d assumed he was average at best, attributing most of his talent to the sheer force of his strikes. But he wasn’t. Instead, he could easily execute at least intermediate fighting patterns, he knew how to block, and his strikes came with an unexpected level of finesse.

All things considered, I still would’ve wiped the floor with him in my previous body, but I was still a little bit impressed. A grin crept onto my face as I felt blood pounding in my ears.

“You want the countdown again?” came a familiar voice from across the room. It ripped me from my concentration before I recognized it as Kye.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Jason shot back. “Make it as fair as possible.”

My eyebrows dropped. I could hear the bait in his comment, but I pushed it away. I had to focus if I wanted even the tiniest chance of winning.

“Alright,” Kye said. She nodded in the corner of her vision, her arms folded as she leaned against the wall. “3… 2… 1…”

Jason rushed at me like he’d done before. It wasn’t the greatest of strategies, especially with the telegraphed way he was executing it. But against an inexperienced opponent like the one he thought he was facing, it was dangerously effective.

Seconds before he reached me, I ducked off to the side. His eyes widened a hair, but he twisted in an instant to bring his blade down on me. Summoning all the speed I could, however, my blade was already colliding with his leg. I forced myself backward before his counterstrike could land.

“One,” I said, my voice a flurry of breaths.

Instead of a normal duel until yield, we were doing matches to five hits. Everything depended on the dexterity of our strikes—whether or not we could actually hit our opponent instead of how much damage we could do. As the first number fled desperately from my lips, I would’ve taken a moment to be thankful, but I didn’t even have time to think.

Jason’s sneer was all I saw as he dashed. Slightly ahead of my movements, I noted. Probably trying to catch me off guard. Before he got to me though, I stopped in place. Banking all trust on my legs to keep me balanced, I aimed my sword as his shoulder. But somehow, he expected me to do that and swiped his blade sideways before he arrived. My sword wrenched in my grip and I stumbled, already gritting my teeth.

The next maneuver flashed in my head as clear as day. Following it, I would’ve ducked under his reach and struck his leg while pushing out of range. But for the first time in forever, my sword slipped. My smaller, weaker fingers couldn’t grasp it like I’d expected and it glided into the air. The blunt wooden blade landed silently on the ground, leaving me defenseless to his barrage of hits.

“One, two, and three,” Jason said as I cursed under my breath. I only barely dodged the fourth hit with a stumble backward in the direction of my fallen blade.

Then, swallowing my anger, I snatched it up in a flash. And before I knew it, I was sprinting as fast as I could. The failed maneuver was a rusted rod in the cogs of my mind. I needed distance. I needed time enough to think.

That time, however, didn’t seem like it would come very soon.

Jason darted. I narrowed my eyes on him. My fingers relaxed on the hilt of my training blade. Something was different in his form and I knew it. I caught it in the distinct glint in his eye. It was the same glint I’d seen my whole life—the shine of a swordsman who was sure his victory was at hand.

Deep breaths circled in my lungs. I readied my sword and nodded, prepared to go along with his deceptive play.

He lunged at me, feigning a rightward attack and then shifting the strike left with all of his remaining strength. I’d been ready for it though and I hadn’t raised my blade right. With a toothy grin breaking through on my face, our swords collided in a dull blunt strike that wasn’t to his advantage at all. There was no time to think. My instincts carried me forward as I dashed, tearing right through his open side. And by the time I was out of range, I’d counted three solid jabs through his broken guard.

“Two, three, and four,” I breathed as soon as I was a good distance away. Feeling muscles shriek in my leg, I slowed. My hand fell to my knee as I tried to balance for support.

In a moment frozen in time, Jason stared in pure surprise. In a different situation, I would’ve laughed. It was an expression I hadn’t seen on the smug man yet; it didn’t even seem to fit his face. But I didn’t get to appreciate it for long as he found his bearings.

In my breathless and unthinking state, I expected him to come all the way to me. Once again, however, I’d underestimated the swordsman and his skills.

Instead, Jason stopped short. His feet moved almost in a graceful little dance and circled over to my unarmed side. He jabbed at me rapidly, but I was able to blunder away. With shock building on my face, I nearly fell to the ground.

The sandy-haired blur in my vision slowed, coming to a full stop only paces away. He smiled at me with confidence. Another trick up his sleeve. It was obvious to any trained eye. But despite myself, I just couldn’t see what it really was.

The realization came too late as the arrogant swordsman faked a dash. I saw right through it, of course. But then he started to swing his sword. I flung mine out to counter, yet I recognized it too late. As soon as my blade only connected with thin air, I was defenseless.

In a move that I didn’t know he could’ve executed, Jason rolled onto the floor. A perfect, coordinated movement was all that it took. He’d struck me in the leg by the time I even realized what was going on.

Cursing myself, I repositioned. Swinging my leg back and my sword down, I tried to catch him. But he was already gone. A scan over the ground told me he was running away. Still crouched low, I noted too. Still moving faster than I’d thought he could.

I shook my head. Then surged forward without a second thought. I didn’t have a second thought. It was my chance to get on the offense and I wasn’t letting it go to waste. Dashing at Jason from behind, I caught him quickly after he’d stood up.

“Four—“ he started, biting off the words at my overhead strike. Jason was forced to do something he’d forced me to do many times in the past: block without the power to back it up. He was barely able to keep the tip of my blade from his face.

He leapt backward, keeping the wooden sword close on guard. He was ready for another strike. It was to be expected from anybody who got overzealous in a fight.

My strike, however, was one that was never to come.

Instead of playing into some expected and basic attack, I saw an opportunity in his stumble. I dashed to the side and came up under his unarmed side—where he had no hope of deflecting.

Feeling victory at hand, my arms moved on their own. I could taste it. It was close. My blade sliced through the air at exactly the angle I wanted, aimed at his hip. And a smile tugged at my lips as my premature celebration filled my head. I had it.

Or… maybe not.

Feeling a harsh tremor of contact rip through my hand, my brows knitted like a quilt. Based on my instinctual calculations, I should’ve hit his hip before he was even able to react. Yet, as happened far too often these days, I was wrong. In my new body, my arm just wasn’t quick enough. Jason’s blade came down and he shuffled away in the nick of time.

In a moment that was all too fleeting, his navy-covered hip swung away from me and the next thing I knew, my blade was lying on the ground.

The sad wooden sword hit the black mat with a soft thud that kicked my pride while it was down. In that moment and the next dozen that came after it, I was completely defenseless.

Jason’s foot came down too, holding my sword in place. And I knew I’d lost before he even muttered his next word. Slowly and steadily, if only to raise my annoyance ever-higher, Jason brought his blade up and brushed it against my shoulder. My lips pressed into a thin line as I looked up at his cocky gaze.

“And five,” he said with a warm tinge. I just tore my shoulder away and rolled my eyes.

Then, I shoved Jason’s metal-booted foot away and picked up my blade. The absolute scowl on my face would’ve been enough to make fresh trees rot. And at the time, I didn’t know whether it was more directed at Jason or myself.

“Impressive display,” a voice said from behind. My eyes split wide in an instant. It sounded cold in my ears, freezing at oncoming memories that sparked a shiver down my spine. I’d heard those words before. I hated them with a passion. Panic filling my bones, I twisted on my heel, not at all ready to confront my fate yet again. “You both have quite well-refined technique.”

A white, tailor-made suit gleamed in my vision. It quelled my fears. A soft sigh fell from my lips, and I nodded a little too thankfully when I realized that it wasn’t the beast.

Instead, the source of the deep, confident voice was another thing that I didn’t quite expect. It hadn’t come from the type of person that I normally expected in the lodge. The man standing in the narrow entryway was not a warrior or a hunter. He was a handsome young man. He wasn’t wearing armor, much to the contrast of the apparent guards flanking his sides. And his bright face was filled with an overly genuine kind of interest.

“The fake-out,” he continued. “Where he ended up faking you out. Oh, that was fantastic! And that last moment as well.” The man rolled his wrist. “I was on the edge of my figurative seat.”

I squinted at the man, his deep yet chipper voice streaming onto my eardrums. It was practiced and unburdened, like a perfect sweet spring breeze. The sound of it radiated a sort of regal power, and it reminded me of people I’d become acquainted with in my past life. Even a bit of myself, if I was to be honest.

Breathing a little more heavily than I’m sure he would’ve admitted, Jason shook his head. “What are you doing here, Arathorn?” The signature smirk on his face was gone, replaced with an expression lined in respect.

I bit back a grumble about why he hadn’t used that expression with me.

The charming man of authority flashed both of us a toothy smile. “I’m only here to speak with Lorah, but I couldn’t resist such a duel. I had to stop and watch it.” The sweet breeze of his words blew over me once more. It felt nice. So nice, in fact, that I almost missed the way his attention landed on me.

The man was staring, even while responding to Jason. His eyes stayed on me as if frozen in place. They studied me carefully, something odd glinting in his irises. Breaking out of his charming gaze, I tried to sift it out. Tried to see what was hiding in his eyes.

Whatever it was, it left a bitter taste on my tongue. It was some sort of… want, some desire, some hunger. But it was shielded well. I couldn’t see very deep, and with his cheerful and pleasant demeanor, I couldn’t even tell if it was real or not.

I shifted in place, stepping forward toward the man. “Who are you?”

He laughed, tilting his head in my direction. “My name is Arathorn Gairen. I’m the currently sitting Lord of Sarin.” His title came down like an anvil on my shoulders, making me straighten up. “And who would you be, promising young warrior?”

For a second, I just furrowed my brow. Confusion rose within me and I shook my head, my own internal reasoning saying that he couldn’t have been referring to me. I wasn’t young. And I wasn’t a promising warrior. I was a warrior that had already been promised. But after another second of silence and a glance down at myself, I cringed.

“Agil,” I said, trying not to stutter. “My name is Agil.” Seconds of pure silence ticked by after my response, but Arathorn didn’t seem to mind.

“Well. Nice to meet you Agil,” he said. Despite his strange stare, his tone was exactly the same as before, cheerful and confident. The emphasis of my name, however, was enough to make me fight back a shudder.

“Lorah’s in her office,” came Kye’s uninterested voice from the other side of the room. “She might’ve sensed you already, but I’d knock before you walk in.”

Arathorn’s expression tightened but he smiled at Kye. “Thank you,” was the last thing he said before nodding to both of his escorts and tearing through the room, full of poise. My eyes followed his form, squinting more and more the longer they stared at the man.

As soon as he was gone, a breath slipped between my lips. A breath I hadn’t even known I’d been holding in. “What’s up with that guy?”

Kye turned to me, pushing off the wall as she made her way over. “Was there something different about him?”

I shook my head lightly. Doubting the lord of the town I would be living in for the foreseeable future wasn’t on the top of my list of wants, but I couldn’t ignore it. “I don’t know. Something was off, as if he was hiding something.”

Jason scoffed. “He’s always hiding something, but he’s the Lord. He has to. If he weren’t as amicable as he is, I might be suspicious of him too. He’s so charismatic that some people get caught off guard by it and don’t question.” I nodded slowly. It made some sense, but it didn’t satisfy me. Something still nagged at my head—a newly forming theory still in its stages of infancy kicking at my skull in an effort to develop faster.

“I wouldn’t bother with it too much,” Kye said, eyeing me carefully. The antagonism in her gaze was back and I had to fight to shrug it off. As much as Jason’s arrogance grated on me, at least he wasn’t holding shriveled pieces of doubt for just about everything I did.

“By the way,” the swordsman cut in with one eyebrow raised. “You do have some technique that isn’t half bad. Where’d you learn that kind of stuff?”

My eyebrows dropped at the half-assed, unexpected compliment. In my past life, I would’ve gotten glowing praise from someone of his ilk. My new and clumsier fighting, however, barely deserved what he gave me.

I twisted my neck, trying to pick my words. Explaining my entire life story was off the table, but I didn’t particularly want to lie. “It’s something I taught myself back home.”

Jason nodded, curling his lip. He wasn’t satisfied. “Were there any great… warriors or instructors back at your home? It’s… hard to believe you are only self-taught.”

I suppressed the grin tugging at my lips and clenched my jaw to restrain myself. “No… not particularly. At least not that I had much interaction with. I’ve just always been fascinated with swordplay.”

The man who’d just bested me scrunched his face. He nodded once more, trying to bring a smile back onto his face. His smirk, however, felt uncharacteristically vacant. “I have a certain love for swordplay as well.” My fingers twitched. “But if you’ve never trained with someone seasoned, that would explain your pitiful form.” Seeing the way I stiffened and gritted my teeth, his smirk returned to full force.

I brushed off the backhanded statement and tried to push the conversation forward instead. “I’ve always wanted to be a swords-master.” I had to stop myself from cringing. “Though I’ve never had to fight anyone who could use magic.”

Jason laughed. “Yeah. If I’d used magic, that would’ve been over much quicker.”

I let out a breath through my teeth. “I bet it would’ve. What can you do, anyway?” If I was going to have to listen to him stroke his ego, I wanted some information out of it.

Jason’s smugness returned to a humorous degree. “I’m rather good at manipulating energy in relation to objects. Even the air at times. I can heat things up, make them heavier, all depending on how much I expend. Obviously, it’s easier to make something hotter than heavier, though.”

I furrowed my brow. “Why’s that?”

Jason stopped twirling the training sword. He looked down at me with arched eyebrows as if he felt bad for my ignorance. “Heat is a more basic state of energy… it’s easier to manipulate.” My head bobbed, trying to burn the information into my mind. Jason glanced back at Kye, who only offered a shrug in return. He continued. “Increasing something’s weight is more complex. It requires more finesse and strains the soul more. I have to put in more effort.”

Jason looked at me in silence for a second, a perplexed expression on his face as though he’d just been handed an arithmetic test.

“Interesting,” I said, feigning some sense of childish wonder. “I would stand no chance against that.” My own discipline and previous training berated me, lashing out at my words. But I ignored both of their calls and just tried my best to keep a smile.

I tried so hard to keep it up, in fact, that I didn’t even notice when another ranger entered the room. Her presence completely ghosted my senses up until the point that Kye spoke up.

“Hey Tan, are you heading out?” she asked. I didn’t miss the fact that her tone was far lighter and friendlier than any she’d used with me. I looked up, flicking my eyes over to the new woman standing by the wall. Picking arrows from one of the quivers on the rack—one of the quivers I had put in place, I reminded myself—was a tall, brunette woman wearing the same blue clothes that all the rest of the rangers wore.

The woman looked in our direction, smiling at Kye. As her eyes glossed over Jason, a glint of familiar annoyance popped up. But her gaze froze completely as soon as she locked eyes with me.

“Yeah,” she said, responding to Kye’s question. Her eyes narrowed as if the recognition of my face was taking longer than expected. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

I nodded, the fact that someone around here had bothered to remember my face bolstering me more than I wanted to admit. “Agil,” I said. “My name’s Agil.”

“You’re the one Kye brought in,” she said carefully. Her fingers thumbed through arrows almost all on their own. “The one that’s been taking the bottom-feeder assignments for us.”

All the pride that had built up before fell down like a crumbling wall. My eyebrows dropped and I grumbled under my breath, only confirming what the woman knew to be true. “Yeah,” I said despite myself. “That’s me.”

The tall, brunette woman stifled a chuckle. “You’re already dueling with Jason, then?”

My frustrated expression contorted. “How did you figure?”

“Well, it’s not like his expression leaves anything to the imagination. And I figured he hadn’t just dueled with Kye, because he only looks that pompous whenever he actually wins.”

Beside me, Jason scoffed. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing at all,” the woman said, a smirk ghosting her lips. It was as if her backhanded insult had slapped the arrogance right off of Jason’s face and transferred it onto hers.

Kye snickered. “So Tan, what are you heading out for?”

The woman apparently named Tan ripped her gaze away from the definition of conceit to look at Kye. “There’s a contest today.”

“Yeah, I knew that, but they left for it more than an hour ago.”

“Oh?” Tan asked, raising an eyebrow and stopping her fingers. “I thought they were holding two rounds today because the forest has been particularly active.” She finished picking the arrows she wanted and placed them in her own smaller quiver on her waist.

Kye grumbled, the smile on her face betraying the friendly nature of it all. “Why did nobody feel the need to tell me about that? I’m coming with.”

“The more the merrier,” Tan said with a warm grin. “I want to see who places second this time.”

“Oh,” Kye shot back before questions could even form in my head. “That’s some confidence. What, are you pairing up with Myris again this time?” Tan’s grin widened, but she couldn’t hide the slight blush in her cheeks. “Of course you are.”

“Fine, I’ll come,” came a voice from beside me. Jason stepped forward with a grin.

Both of the other two rangers shared a glance before glaring back at the swordsman. Kye was the first to let out a laugh though as she twisted to face him. “I don’t think there was any doubt that you were coming.”

Jason’s wicked grin deepened and he let off some boastful response. I didn’t listen, drowning him out as I tried to collect my thoughts. I curled my fingers around the training sword still within my grip. Whatever the rangers in front of me were talking about, it didn’t seem to include me. In the mere minute since Tan had entered the room, I’d gone from a part of the conversation to little more than a fly on the wall. And after they left for whatever contest kept being thrown around, I already knew things wouldn’t change. I’d be left alone and bored, cooped up in a lodge while the only people I actually knew on this corrupted continent were off galavanting in the woods.

No, I told myself as I collected my breaths. Sparring with Jason was nice; it gave an actual challenge and some purpose beyond being a glorified butler. But it would only take me so far. I’d sparred with him multiple times, and I was still in the same feeble body as before. I needed more than stray fights. I needed training. I needed experience.

And so, with resolve building back up in my head, I took a step forward among the chatting rangers. As soon as a lull in the conversation sprung up, I grabbed the chance with an iron grip. The eyes of each of them bored into me, threatening to poke holes in my soul as I tried to find the words I wanted. But there was no going back now, I told myself and tried to force up a grin.

“So, what exactly does this context entail?”