Paragon of Destruction

Instead, he forced himself to remain focused as he worked, analyzing the spells and seals to the best of his ability and carefully recording his progress in the two empty memory amulets he’d been given.

As the night progressed so did his weariness, but at no point did he consider giving up.

Leaving would be easy enough, of course. Brightblade had made it clear that if he failed to meet the Matriarch’s demands, the woman would cast him aside without hesitation. At that point, he would be able to return to the House of Swords to resume his original training.

Yet allowing that to happen would rob him of an opportunity the likes of which few other mages ever got. And if his own servants were desperate just to have capable instructors, how could he pass up the chance to learn from the Matriarch herself?

And so, he labored on, neither slacking nor complaining. His talent might yet fail him, but if he fell short, it wouldn’t be for lack of effort.

Still, motivation only went so far, and he struggled as the night advanced. And the wearier he grew, the slower the work progressed.

When he finally completed his task it was well past midnight, with just a few more hours to go before dawn.

He made his way back to his mansion with weary steps. When he arrived, he found two guards at the gate, their faces vaguely familiar from the previous night. They bowed as they greeted him, and if they felt any curiosity at his late return, their faces showed no sign of it.

As he passed through the gate, he quickly decided against entering the mansion. Just finding a decent room would take half an hour — time he would rather spend sleeping.

Instead, he headed for the hot spring. Just a few hours of sleep in there had felt like an entire night, and even if that was just his imagination, he would gladly settle for the illusion of rest right now.

Before he entered the hot spring, however, he had a quick meal of dragon meat, accompanied by several of the potions Snowcloud had left him. They might do little for his weary mind, but they could help blunt any effects the lack of sleep would have on his body.

When he slipped into the hot spring some minutes later, he was asleep in seconds.

He awoke to the sound of Jovan’s voice some hours later.

"You shouldn’t—" the man began as Arran got out of the water.

"I could drown," Arran interrupted him. "I know. What time is it?"

"Half an hour before dawn," Jovan said. "Didn’t know whether you needed waking, but I figured I’d better not take any chances."

"Thanks," Arran said. Then, after a yawn, he asked, "Is there any breakfast?"

He was glad to hear that there was, and he soon discovered that his cooks had surpassed their efforts of the previous day. This time, there was no need to hurry, and he took his time in eating, enjoying the variety of dishes that had been prepared for him.

Doran and Master Kallias arrived shortly before dawn, both of them looking at their surroundings with wide eyes as they entered the gardens.

They eagerly accepted Arran’s invitation for breakfast — there was more than enough even if they’d brought another dozen people along — and as they tasted the food, Doran gave Arran an envious look.

"Think the Matriarch needs any other apprentices?" he asked. "I could do with a place like this."

"You could try asking," Arran replied. "Though I think you might find her methods unpleasant."

Doran cast a regretful glance at the mansion in the distance, then shrugged. "I suppose I never had much talent for seals, anyway."

The three began their training after finishing breakfast, spending half their time on the Thousand Cuts and the other half on Arran’s style. Teaching it to the other two wasn’t just a way to repay them for coming — he found that instructing others helped him develop it further.

The morning passed quickly, and they ended their training half an hour before midday. The training hadn’t exhausted Arran in the slightest. Rather, he found that the exercise reinvigorated him.

"I have a favor to ask from the both of you," he said as they finished their practice. "A big one."

"What is it?" Master Kallias asked.

"My servants need training," Arran explained. "And I would like to ask the both of you if you could spend the afternoon instructing them."

"Those cooks of yours, will they be making more food?" Doran asked, grinning widely.

"As much as you want," Arran replied.

"Then I’m in."

Master Kallias, however, hesitated in answering. Yet after a few moments of thought, he gave Arran a short nod. "Since we’ll be here tomorrow as well, it makes sense to spend the night at your residence. Very well, I’ll see what I can teach these servants of yours."

Jovan reacted excitedly to the news, assuring Arran that he would make sure the servants’ efforts would not disappoint.

Arran could only take the burly man’s word for it — he was expected at the Matriarch’s mansion.

The afternoon went much as he expected. Though the Matriarch was pleased with his efforts of the previous night — she found only a handful of things he had to redo — her approval did not translate into an easier schedule for Arran.

Once more, he found himself working deep into the night. Yet he did so stoically, not the least bit tempted to give up.

The next morning, Doran looked at him with some concern. "When did you return?"

"A few hours ago," Arran replied.

"You weren’t kidding about the Matriarch’s methods," Doran said, a frown on his face. From his expression, it seemed any envy he felt for Arran’s new position had disappeared entirely.

Like the previous day, Arran spent the morning training with Doran and Master Kallias before heading to the Matriarch’s estate.

Again, his studies lasted well into the night. Although his speed in analyzing the spells and seals was increasing, the Matriarch’s demands increased right along with it.

The next two days, he spent his mornings studying with Anthea. She was displeased that he would no longer have full days to study the Forms, but her mood lightened when he told her that she could teach his servants how to use the Forms — as long as she spent an equal amount of time instructing them in conventional magic.

After that, there were another two mornings he spent studying with Oraia.

She was particularly interested in both his new position and the Matriarch, asking far more questions than the others had. Yet although he tried to use that to rope her into teaching his servants, she flatly refused the offer.

Perhaps it was for the best, Arran thought. From the way his servants looked at her, he feared she could win their loyalty with a single smile if she so wished.

And then, the cycle began anew.

Arran spent three weeks studying like this, every waking hour that he didn’t spend with teachers from the other Houses taken up by his studies with the Matriarch.

Between the hot spring and Snowcloud’s pills, he managed to persist through the constant lack of sleep, though only barely. And even if he only had the mornings to train with the other Houses, he did make some progress in learning about Shadow magic and the Forms.

Yet the bulk of his time went to the Matriarch’s teachings, and there, his results were spectacular.

Both the spells and the seals she had him study were completely useless, but in studying them his understanding of magic advanced rapidly. And that wasn’t the only thing that advanced. Perhaps even more importantly, he finally began to get an idea of how to study spells properly.

Previously, he had approached spells like inscrutable incantations to be learned through brute memorization. It was a method that worked — after a fashion — but one that made learning spells both slow and painful.

Now, however, he began to understand more of how spells worked — and how best to learn them. And if that was only a first step, at least it was a step on the right path.

After three weeks of near-constant training, he was almost surprised to find that he had covered all the spells and seals within the memory amulets he’d been given. The other two amulets, meanwhile, now held detailed descriptions of all that he had learned.

When he informed the Matriarch that he was done, she gave him an approving smile.

"Well done," she said. "And right on schedule, too."

"On schedule?" Arran looked at her in confusion.

"Brightblade and I agreed that while I would instruct you for three weeks of every month, she would have you for the remaining one. This coming week, you’re hers to teach."

"You planned all this?" When he realized that the Matriarch had planned out his progress so accurately, Arran could not help but be surprised.

"Of course," she replied calmly. "Although I was a few hours off, so you may want to hurry. Brightblade should have arrived at your mansion about two hours ago, and patience has never been a strength of hers. We will continue your training a week from now."

Arran found himself speechless for a moment, but then, a broad smile appeared on his face.

If he would spend the next week training with Brightblade, he’d finally get a chance to have a good night’s sleep. And if he was lucky, she’d want to focus on swordsmanship rather than magic.

"One last thing," the Matriarch said. She handed Arran a scroll, then continued, "This is an Earth Realm Scroll. I expect you to have opened an Earth Realm when you return."