Paragon of Destruction

Yet the excitement he had felt on mastering the spell now caused him some disappointment when he awoke and realized none of it had been real.

Still, even if the memory was false, the motivation it gave him was entirely real. He let out a final deep yawn, then got out of bed, already eager to continue his studies.

He found the house empty, and after a short search, he discovered that Oraia was sitting in the garden, drinking a cup of tea while looking through some scrolls.

The elegant dress she had worn the previous day was gone, replaced with a simple black training robe. There was a slender sword at her side that hadn’t been there before, and on the whole, she almost looked like an entirely different person.

When she saw Arran, she gave him a friendly nod. "I figured you needed the rest, so I didn’t wake you this morning." She gestured at a small table beside her, then said, "There’s tea and food. You can continue your studies after you’ve had breakfast."

"Thanks," Arran replied. He sat down on a chair beside the table, then piled several meals worth of food on a plate. Though the food was simple — fresh bread, butter, eggs, honey, and fruits — he was still hungry from the previous day, and he ate eagerly.

"Before you get back to studying," Oraia said once he finished the meal, "perhaps we can have a small sparring match? I’d like to see for myself just what kind of skill allows an initiate to defeat adepts."

Arran happily agreed, and they faced each other on an empty patch of grass at the center of the garden.

They sparred for half an hour, and although Oraia didn’t pose a serious challenge to Arran, he found himself impressed with her skill. Her style was fast and deceptive, with numerous feints and distractions hiding lightning-quick but accurate attacks.

"You’re good," he finally said, voice filled with approval. "Even in the House of Swords, I don’t think any of the novices could match you."

She wiped some sweat from her brow. "You’re better," she stated matter-of-factly. "But perhaps I can even the odds with magic, if you’ll allow it?"

"Of course," Arran replied. Although there wasn’t much he could learn from facing a less-skilled opponent, he wouldn’t deny Oraia the opportunity to learn from him.

Once more they faced off, swords drawn as each waited for the other to make a move.

They stood motionless for some moments, but then, just as Arran was about to attack, Oraia suddenly blinked out of existence.

Had Arran not long since learned to use his Shadowsight during fights — even sparring matches — her invisible attack would have given her an easy victory. But now, Arran parried it as easily as he would any of her other attacks, winning the exchange with a second stroke of his sword.

Oraia became visible again as she stepped back. "You always use Shadowgaze during fights?"

"I’d have died long ago if I didn’t," Arran replied flatly.

"Then I’ll have to try something else." Oraia immediately attacked once more, but this time, only her sword disappeared, while the rest of her body became a blur.

Arran defeated her again, but several dozen more exchanges followed, with the novice using all sorts of combinations of spells to obscure and conceal both her weapon and her movements.

None of this achieved much, however, as Arran didn’t allow his Shadowsight to slip for even a second. Within a distance of fifty paces, there was nothing that could escape his notice — not without a way to obscure his Shadowsight, at least.

When Oraia finally came to a stop, her forehead was covered in sweat, and her cheeks were flushed from the effort. "I’m done," she said. "I’m out of Shadow Essence." She took several deep breaths, then asked, "But how is it that you maintained your Shadowgaze all this time? Your Essence should have run dry long ago."

Arran responded with a shrug. "My Shadow Realm is pretty strong."

In truth, he could have continued like this for hours. The Realm Opening Pills had given him a massive reserve of Shadow Essence to begin with, and years of almost constantly using his Shadowsight had increased that even further.

Oraia slightly raised an eyebrow as she gave Arran an appraising look. "It will serve you well once you learn more spells," she said after a moment. "If your talent is even half as impressive as your Essence reserves, the House of Shadows would be glad to have you."

"I’ll get back to studying, then," Arran said. "So we can discover whether I have any talent for Shadow spells."

He naturally had no intention of joining the House of Shadows, but he could not say so outright — if Brightblade was correct, showing sufficient talent might cause the House of Shadows to try to persuade him to their side with gifts and resources.

"I suppose you’re right," Oraia replied, though something had changed in the look she gave Arran. While she had acted like a flirtatious young girl the previous day, now, she treated him more like an equal.

After a brief rest, Arran set to work studying the scroll once more.

He could tell that he was gradually gaining a better understanding of the spell it described, but the few tentative attempts he made at casting it convinced him that he would need to spend more time studying it.

Throughout the day, Oraia was there to answer his questions and give him advice when he needed it. Yet despite her efforts, her help proved to be of little use — she could only see Arran’s attempts when he used Wind instead of Shadow Essence, and he lacked the skill at using Wind Essence to fully demonstrate his understanding of the spell.

Nevertheless, he made good progress, and when early evening came he was satisfied with the day’s work. Perhaps the goal wasn’t quite as close as it had seemed the previous day, but he knew he was steadily getting closer to reaching it.

"You can take the scroll along," Oraia said as he was getting ready to leave. "If you have a few free hours on your hands, some extra practice before we meet again won’t hurt. I’ll be able to give more useful advice once you master this first spell, but the first step is one you’ll have to take yourself."

"All right," Arran replied. "If I find the time, I’ll try to get in a little more practice."

It was late evening when he arrived back at the House of Swords, where Brightblade welcomed him with a broad grin.

"Had a good time?" she asked, giving him a wink. "Rumor is they had you train with Oraia — more than a few of the Valley’s young men are seething with jealousy, even in the House of Swords."

Arran furrowed his brow. "What are you talking about?"

"The House of Shadows uses many methods to gain information," Brightblade explained. "Some less subtle than others. And faced with a girl as pretty as that, few young men can resist revealing their secrets." She chuckled, seeming more than a little amused by the whole thing.

With this, Oraia’s behavior during the previous day suddenly made more sense to Arran, and he quickly detailed the two days’ events to Brightblade. When he finished, he added, "You could have warned me, though."

Brightblade shook her head. "There was no need. Most of the youths in this Valley learn magic to impress girls. But you... you’re learning it to protect your life. You wouldn’t be so easily distracted by a pretty face."

"I suppose you have a point," Arran admitted. Oraia’s beauty had affected him, but certainly not enough to make him throw caution to the wind. But then, he furrowed his brow. "But what about Snowcloud? When she studied with them, did they..." He didn’t finish the sentence, though the thought brought a scowl to his face.

"They tried," Brightblade said. "Though the poor boy they sent after her ended up with a broken nose."

At this, Arran smiled in satisfaction. Even the thought of some handsome House of Shadows novice trying to flirt with Snowcloud had caused him to feel a brief stab of jealousy.

Brightblade laughed when she saw his face, but then, her expression turned serious again. "You should get some rest now," she said. "Tomorrow, you’ll be visiting the House of Seals — and this time, I expect you to leave a lasting expression on your first day."