Titanic pillars of blue stone rise up into a strange fog, one I cannot pierce through with my senses. The ambient magic is so strong it saturates the air with its heady presence, overcoming the scent of crisp mountain air. We co across a group of fae knights in shimring armor the color of sapphire, their eclectic assortnts of weapons dark and wicked. They look so insufferably smug, though it could simply be the pride that cos with completing training. Or simply a Blue Court quirk. I would not know.
"How does that work, anyway?" I ask Sivaya.
The elfin princess blinks once, then her large orbs focus on with a peculiar intensity.
"The aura mory wave locator?"
"No. I do not know what that is. I ant the ti dilation."
"Oh! Yes, an important piece of technology and the power upon which our safety is built. I could get into the details as they are quite fascinating, but unfortunately you would need to complete around twenty earth years worth of advanced physics education first, and then the Blue Court special forces would have to cull you."
"That might be counterproductive."
"We are of one mind. Oh! But I can tell you that it relates to mass."
"Mass?" I ask, flabbergasted.
"This place is much heavier on the outside."
Our discussion is interrupted by the man guiding us clearing his throat rather tactlessly. I suppose it is not his first ti dealing with the princess' foibles. Sinead frowns.
"Please, Ariane, curiosity has killed enough cats."
"Alright," I concede, grumbling.
The Blue Court mastery of the passage of ti fascinates , despite the nature of my current situation. When I have more ti, I would be interested in learning how this all works. In any case, they have certainly put it to good use. An open door to the side shows a room filled with training equipnt, most of it showing signs of intense use. Servants carry the most damaged parts out, including an animated training golem so pockmarked it looks carved by a patient crafter. The Blue Court forces might be few in number, but their training is as perfect as they can make it thanks to their peculiar training facilities, when one might spend a decade practicing under the guidance of a master while only a year passes outside. The ti difference between here and earth must be truly staggering.
"A great opportunity, Ariane. It will take more than a few months to develop your true potential," Cadiz adds.
Of course he would.
"How delightful," I grumble.
"I will have no complaints from you, young lady, you have spent far too many years thinking yourself a master of the art of war. I just an for you to stop pretending."
He frowns.
"I do not understand. You have the opportunity to approach perfection yourself thanks to my assistance, which I will provide freely and to the utmost of my abilities. So would kill for the privilege. You do not strike as soone who appreciates diocrity in yourself or others, yet you resist ."
I sigh, as I realize he misunderstands the source of my reticence.
"I know your guidance will push to greatness, just as I have no doubt that you will put through hell."
"That is correct."
"It concerns because you are a maniac. Put it that way. I am looking forward to the destination, but certainly not to the journey."
"I will make it as exciting as I can."
"Oh, joy."
"Here we are," the majordomo guiding us says.
I cannot tell the difference between this room and any other, but it will suit our purposes. The training center has separate spaces for each team, and common areas where one may engage in friendly competitions and social activities between two sessions.
"His Highness Prince Sinead has requested a master of tactics, who will arrive shortly. Is there anything the lady would like as well? We were not inford of her preference. Would you like to try a training golem?"
I detect a hint of condescension in the man's voice, the sort of fatherly concern one has for a lost child who seems out of their depth. Cadiz misses the cue, of course.
"It would provide for a wider variety of styles to asure herself against."
"Well, how strong is the lady? We have several models."
"I saw her fight toe to toe with a Duke of Winter."
Shock filters through the unctuous expression.
"... on his own land," Cadiz finishes, unperturbed.
The majordomo gives the appearance of consideration, but I already know the answer.
"I fear we have nothing quite fitting. A pity. So of our blademasters might be interested, however."
Cadiz gives him a predatory smile, and I suddenly feel empathy for the first poor sods who will answer the call.
"We would love visitors, yes. Polearms wielders are especially welco."
The majordomo leaves us. Sivaya and her fiance walk to the side to discuss the dragon hunt with a dour Khadras, but I will not be joining them. Cadiz drags directly to the arena.
"We will be working on several aspects. First, your technique, second, your Magna Arqa, and third, your battle experience. All of those must be mastered by the ti we return to earth, or it will all be for nothing. Are you ready?"
"As ready as can be."
"Then let us begin."
***
All of the dragon hunters commit to the training with their full attention. The cycle of night and day is represented by a dimming of the light, and I understand why teams leave the space every month or so. The absence of sky will prove taxing, eventually. For now, I am too busy to contemplate a break.
A tall warrior who possesses the tiless air I associate with old fae briefly examines Sinead's strategy so far and qualifies it as 'decent in an amateurish sort of way', then Cadiz and I fully isolate ourselves so we can focus on bringing my abilities up to speed.
To my surprise, Cadiz does not simply drown under obscure and preposterous exercises. Instead, we go over each and every tool in my repertoire from my illusion spells including the combat-oriented mirage, to the few offensive ones I have. Cadiz tests their limits, their range, their use… nothing escapes his patient scrutiny. He deducts that I have been using them wrong, of course.
"You fight like a woman wielding a bundle of sticks, using each one without rhy nor reason. Your tools must be forged into a single blade, each component indistinguishable from the other to form a harmonious whole."
"You were quite clear the last ti you inford of this."
"First of all, have you considered casting Prothean behind you?" he replies, ignoring .
"What do you an?" I ask, surprised.
"If you move your arm forward, the foe will expect a directional offensive spell, while if the chains surge from behind you in multiple directions, they will take a mont to estimate their trajectories. You can alter those, can you not?"
"Well, yes?"
"Since you can dispel them whenever you wish, there is no reason not to make them more unpredictable."
And so on, and so forth. The court provides a wand in lieu of my firearms. It lacks the kick, but will suffice for training.
The more ti-consuming test cos with the Magna Arqa. The room is far from large enough to test its limits, even though it is larger than most of the Boston fortress. We still learn that my control works equally well anywhere throughout the sphere when I am not actually fighting. When I am, my focus narrows to the space I occupy. In other words, I am not smart enough to use my own power to its full potential.
"I believe your assessnt is wrong," Cadiz assures .
"How so?"
"Magna Arqa is the purest expression of one's own essence. You cannot possibly wield a blade that cannot be wielded at all. You ntioned the power resembled your ntal defenses?"
"Yes."
"Do you have any issues controlling those?"
I freeze in my tracks.
"No."
"Then perhaps a similar approach would allow you to move the roots around more effectively, perhaps relying more on your instincts. Less conscious actions, more flow. We will try this thod."
It does not take long for to grow more enthusiastic, especially when the ti cos to let the statues out. Just like Cadiz had surmised, they can function independently if I do not focus on them too hard, instead letting the legacy of their makers move them as needed. I force back a sob when Dalton's statue gives Cadiz the old double tap, shooting him once, then another ti with a concealed pistol just when the old monster thought himself safe. Of course, Cadiz is far too fast and canny to get caught so easily, but the old tactic reminds of my lost vassal.
The second aspect of the first, exploratory part of our training concerns range and positioning. Cadiz takes great care to test each of my weapons at different distances, including the wand. We also do so light spars, during which I am only allowed to use Rose. After long sessions of practice and an entire day spent only making notes, Cadiz finally cos with a schedule. We also find out the definitive date of the dragon hunt. It will be six months from now, relatively speaking, and will take place on an isolated sphere considered neutral territory. It is when Cadiz shares his plan with that I realize the implication of a strong ti dilation.
"Five years? We will stay here for five years?"
"We will not. You will leave this place several tis to relax and hunt. Sotis, we must take a step back to realize we have been hitting our heads against a wall."
He stops to consider.
"Did that taphor work?"
"I think so."
Stolen story; please report.
"Then I have made progress. Excellent. In any case, this is a unique opportunity for us to work in relative peace, so be sure not to squander it."
"The Court of Blue should have the best fighters with such a tool at their disposal."
"Ariane, first, they do have so of the best fighters, and secondly, the limit is set by the availability of ntors. You can spend a century bashing a target with a saber and you will get better at it, but that will not make you a good fencer. You need to perfect your technique in the crucible of adversity or you will never know its worth. The Court of Blue simply lacks a sufficient number of good teachers."
He pauses for a mont.
"I know you do not an it as an insult, so I will not take umbrage from your ignorance. I have been known as one of the best sword trainers in history, and I sincerely doubt soone else replaced . Do you know any Cadiz lords?"
"Hmmm Lord Suarez and Lord Ceron."
"I taught Suarez all he knows. Does he still stick to that one strike philosophy of his?"
"If you are referring to his Magna Arqa…"
"The boy has always relied on it too much. I hope he worked on his timing as well. As for Ceron, I am glad to hear he made it to lord. He was always more politically minded than was wise."
"You are getting sidetracked."
"Oh, my impatient pupil. You seem eager to resu training and I believe I made my point, so let us continue."
With the tests finished, we begin in earnest. Half of the ti is spent working on technique and technique alone, first with Rose and then by progressively adding back more of my tools. He shows prodigious amounts of insight.
"Considering your soul blade primarily as a trick sword is a grave mistake. You have a whipsword, one that can and should extend and retract as often as feasible to keep the enemy on their toes. Any thrust can potentially end in their eyes. As for the fully extended blade, its tip can move at speeds that will cause it to crack, like a whip. You must use this as a constant threat to those who would try to keep their distance. We will be working on proper footwork as well."
During our early spars, Cadiz slows down and intentionally makes mistakes to help improve, and I do believe it works. His style reminds of Octave's, the Knight blademaster. None of his movents are wasted and it mostly feels like he can read my mind and anticipate my actions before I do them. The reality is different.
"At any point of a duel, only a limited number of the actions you can perform will not result in your imdiate demise. You have relied on your intuition and I salute your efforts, but you must also understand your enemies the old-fashioned way. A duel between experienced vampire warriors ends when one successfully overwhelms the other, placing them in a position where one can inflict an unavoidable blow. The task is difficult. You must corner them first. We will be working on longer sequences."
Cadiz' brilliance does not simply reside in his own skill, he is also able to identify my flaws and provide inspired advice.
"Your unpredictability is a gift against dogmatic combatants, but you must narrow your focus until all of the actions you take — unexpected as they may be — place you in a more advantageous situation. In other words, you must surprise rather than rely confuse. An expected move that results in nothing is rely wasted."
His advice is good and pushes to cut useless flurries. He also insists on faster casting of my spells, focusing on only a few I would reach full mastery of rather than a wide selection. Night by night, I grow sharper and more relentless. If I have to fall back, I do so while casting Prothean from unpredictable directions, the chains' trajectory more difficult to read. I shoot from the wand as part of an attack rather than between two exchanges. A short conversation with a Blue Court duelist leads to an interesting description of my style.
"Frustrating and relentless. You gave no opportunity to develop my own technique. I did not get to fight properly."
"This is exactly as it should be," Cadiz notes with a pleased expression.
And I hope so, because for all my efforts, I have yet to land a single blow on him when he fights properly. Even on the rare occasion Sinead joins against him for his own developnt, it feels like fighting against two rather than one, so competent Cadiz is at taking advantage of our lack of coordination.
"We will study group fighting later. You are still far from that stage," he tells .
The second half of our ti is entirely dedicated to Magna Arqa training. His first action leads to believe that we will have a more relaxed ti when he sits down and places a hastily carved chess set between the two of us.
"We are going to be playing chess, mostly because I am terrible at it."
"Well… so am I," I admit.
"You will be acting as the host for this event," he finishes.
My confusion lasts until a contingent of Blue Court archers walk into the large arena, smirking in anticipation. They nock arrows and wait.
Cadiz glares at .
"Of course, if anything were to happen to , I would deem you responsible. You will only use your Magna Arqa."
He pulls a stick with a comical wooden hand carved at the end.
"And if you lose the ga or break any rules, I will slap you with this."
"Surely, you are jesting."
"No."
I thought the first ga would be easy when I create a thorn cocoon around the two of us. Unfortunately, Cadiz puts an imdiate stop to it.
"I cannot see."
"Excuse ?"
"I cannot see. I need light to see the pieces."
"You do not," I sputter, but he rely crosses his arms, and I know I will have to relent. I am training, not engaging in a contest of wit that benefits no one.
We play and I lose the first round to an arrow taking out my king, cleaving the piece in half.
"Checkmate," Cadiz says,
Then he slaps with the hand. I even tried to dodge.
"Again."
The issue is, of course, that I cannot detect the arrows once they are in flight. Those are Blue Court warrior archers and even lords would have trouble intercepting the projectiles without warning. I am forced to follow the squad. It soon becos clear that I am incapable of stopping them, but in order to keep the ga going, they perform aggravating tricks like clipping my fingers or cutting holes in my training tunic without making bleed. I sohow offset this by attacking them in return, preventing them from shooting too easily. Snapping branches or roots grown under their feet yield so results, but never enough to finish a ga in peace.
"Have you considered using thinner roots? Could you do that?" Cadix asks once.
"Well… I suppose? Only, thinner roots would get destroyed instantly."
"You need them to hamper your opponent, not hurt them or block them, at least not realistically. I believe speed would be preferable to impact."
I admit he is right and get better results by harassing my foes, and then even more by letting the statues run amok. Unfortunately, it is still far from being enough. Either I focus on the ga and get shot in the nails, or I do not, and I get slapped for moving a pawn in diagonal. I do make so progress in terms of flexibility, but we are still extrely far from turning my Magna Arqa into the hell of thorns that will stop Nirari. So far, it can only dispatch weaker opponents en masse, and I have no need for that. Worse, I can either control the roots or the statues to great effect, but not both at once.
On this specific aspect, we find ourselves at an impasse.
In order to keep my spirits up, Cadiz recruits the help of one master Yura, spear instructor. He is one tough nut to crack, but I manage to defeat him in most of our engagents, relying on my superior abilities and what I can get from my Magna Arqa.
"You two are pathetic board ga players, but you sure know how to fight," he remarks.
"You should play while being shot at."
"Not only could I do that, but I could beat both of you at once and within twenty movents."
I grumble and admit he might be correct. Unfortunately, my attempts at revenge fall short when I am tasked with defeating him without the Magna Arqa. For so reason, he can read through my mirage even though he has no ability to pierce through the illusion.
"Instincts. I have fought and survived through a hundred battles, young wanderer. When you get to be as old as , death and danger beco old companions. I can tell when they are coming."
Ugh, why is it always old monsters all the ti. At least, downti provides so amusing distractions, including gas of luck and agility with the other trainees. After what felt like three months of this, we move out for the first ti.
"You need a distraction," Cadiz assures. "And so do I."
We leave the training world through a series of secluded corridors, the walls humming with unknown power, or at least unknown to as the Court of Blue keeps its secret well-guarded. The passage leads out onto a square overlooking the wind-swept glades of the sphere, far below us, while the rarefied air of the aerie buffets our faces for the first ti in what feels like an eternity. After so long, the crisp wind wakes up, while the pure light feels strangely neutral rather than daunting. Nevertheless, I would have preferred the night.
The Blue Court has chosen a tall, narrow mountain as its ho base, and most of its mbers live there, in troglodyte dwellings carved into the very rock. A chandelier above us has fully rged with a large stalactite, lending the decoration a natural appearance. I hope magic was involved in its creation, because I dare not contemplate the ti it would have taken to complete this project otherwise.
"Enjoy your vacation," Cadiz says, then he leaves with Yura. Sinead takes his leave to find Sivaya as well while Khadras departs without a word.
We have both been extrely focused, with little chances to communicate beyond training-related matters. I thought we might have gotten closer at the end of the winter expedition, yet there remains a barrier I have set and am unwilling and unable to take down. Sinead has so far respected my desire for distance, and a treacherous part of wishes he hadn't. I still miss the boisterous, scandalous rake. I also realize that he will not feel free to flirt and be his witty self so long as I harbor a deep distrust of him. The ambivalence of those feelings upsets even more because they are unusual in my kind. My emotional world tends to be simple and well-defined, none of that half lover half person I wish to eat sort of confusion. What a dreadful sort of affair.
"Are your thoughts clouded?"
I caught the scent of Amaryll before she arrived, aning she allowed to do so. The dangerously attractive Likaean stops by my side, her gaze following the contours of distant peaks. I feel her emotions clearly: anticipation, joy, and a sort of amusent that cos with young and refreshing things. She was clearly looking for .
"Would you mind a little company?"
"No," I reply, realizing that nothing will be gained by dwelling on 'Prince Sunny'. Perhaps sensing my turmoil, she links with and guides , arm in arm, to a nearby balcony.
This section of the mountain holds many parks and restaurants, the mood enhanced by musicians and works of arts. The blue ones seem to prefer sober, streamlined works with a strong abstract bend. I realize that it is carefully designed to induce relaxation.
Amaryll's amusent bubbles to the surface, betraying a curious amount of giddiness. I look askance, and she explains.
"Locking arms is such a strange custom. I like it!"
"Oh, I had not realized it was so unusual."
"Oh, there are a few courts that favor it. I am rely enjoying the experience. Say, my son ntioned you had difficulties with an aspect of your power. Perhaps you would allow to help?"
I frown and feel anger at Sinead, though I admit it is not entirely rational. Ugh, why am I being so emotional? Is Likaean blood increasing my sensitivity?
"Forgive if I am being intrusive," she continues, transmitting concern, then her concern gets deeper to the point of anguish. It happens very suddenly, and I am left recoiling in shock. She sighs.
"My son should not have challenged Revas so soon. His rationale, that it would take the older prince by surprise, is foolish. Revas always expects aggression. All of the council mbers develop paranoia as a survival trait. He should have waited for his allies. For us. For . Now, I see him risk his life so soon after he has returned to . I am afraid of losing him again, just as my heart has not healed from my previous grief. Do you understand?"
"I think I do."
"I think you do not. He knew it. He took the risk for you."
She breathes deeply, shedding the frustration and anger I felt building within her heart.
"You have saved him once, and I do not simply an his life. You have seen what our kin have endured under yours. The burden of duty has a way to change a person, but you have provided what he needed the most: hope. Soone to trust."
"And he returned it well," I hiss.
"He fell into the usual trap. Old ones think they know better and try to keep flowers in glasshouses. He has wronged you, and I am not here to convince you to forgive him. It is between the two of you. I refuse to intervene in this matter."
"You do?"
"You are both old enough to handle your differences, one way or another. No, what I want is for you to survive the coming ordeal. And yes, both of you. I will do whatever I can to ensure your success. Right now, it ans helping you harness the expression of your alien soul."
"You want to help with my Magna Arqa? You? A Likaean?"
"You forget. This strange power of yours relates to concepts, and us old nobility understand concepts like no others can. Tell of yours, and we will see if we cannot build a story out of it."
"The concept behind my Magna Arqa?"
"Yes."
I stare into her brown eyes, feeling her emitting patient understanding. I do not know how she can live exposing her emotions so freely. It feels incredibly constraining.
Do I trust her?
More importantly, can I afford not to take her help? My natural distrust, only reinforced by the spheres' treacherous environnt, begrudgingly deserts . Exposing my weaknesses here to allies of fortune does not matter compared to the daunting task that is Nirari. He is the priority. I cannot afford to hold anything back.
"Each of our bloodlines was born with an idea. Mine is conquest."
"Most of us fae are content with our spheres, preferring them to others, so it is not a notion I am familiar with. How do you see conquest?"
"I defined it when I ascended to what I am now. It is to build sothing together with the people I appreciate, against all odds. To create my kingdom where we can be ourselves through violence if we must, safe and free to pursue our various goals. I will use the power granted by the Watcher to build it myself, not wait for soone else to deliver it."
I feel surprise and pleasure radiate from the strange woman.
"How pure and hopeful. I would have never imagined it, considering your taste for blood, but yes, I can see it. I can feel it. You want that little haven very much and you have worked hard to do so. It would be a mistake not to take you for a driven individual. You do want to build and develop and have done so well, but now you must protect those who make up your dream. Since you have a well-defined purpose, how is your Magna Arqa reflecting that?"
"What do you an?" I ask.
"An expression of pure essence reflects one's vision. You can no more escape your nature than we can, despite your strange, alien origin. Understanding how your power reflects your vision will lead you to the improvent you need if you are to succeed, and I am sorry to say, if you wish to survive the dragon hunt."
She made sense in a peculiar sort of way.
"We have ti, still, thanks to our host. Co. Walk with . Tell your story."
"Are you sure? I am not so hero from your tales."
"My son tolerates many flaws in his partners, but tediousness is not one of them. Do share!"
And so I do, talking about my story so far, though only in broad strokes. She does not need to know about my personal experiences. She does, however, have expand upon two things: my allies, and pitched battles.
As we walk through vertical gardens loaded with azure flowers, I sotis feel as if Dalton's intonations or Jina's determined tone just finished ringing in my ears. Sotis, I can sll the smoke of fires or the acrid scent of spent powder. I can taste blood on my tongue, my own and so of others. I hear echoes of joy and despair, and the longer I go on, the more real my reminiscence grows. I rember facing the herald whose horn I stole, I rember fighting through the streets of Marquette. The story cos alive through Amaryll's presence, and patterns start to erge. I gather allies, people from different origins and with different agendas who share common values. Together, we face those who would kill or suppress us. Our differences matter, but not as much as a common goal to live our lives how we see fit. I have indeed been practicing my ethos long before the rise to ladyship crystallized it into words. But then, how is my power related?
I think I may know.
I have been acting incorrectly. I now believe the statues and roots are not fully mine, or rather, they are, but they are animated by instincts and mories conquered from or granted by those I ca across and whose essence I took. The conclusion is surprising, yet it makes sense in a strange way, though it goes against everything I have experienced about vampire powers.
I do not need better control. All those successes I have achieved, I could never have achieved them alone.
I need to let go, and trust those mories I have collected.
Amaryll nods when she sees I have co to a realization.
"I hope your epiphany will lead to success, as sotis, stories are just stories. If it turns out to be the case, I will help you again."
Amaryll does not abandon in the middle of the city. Instead, she guides towards the handful of gladiators I have elected to keep around and not send back to Voidmoore to take care of Pookie. Oh, and the cartel thing. They are undergoing training as well, but for them it has only been a few weeks instead of our three months, as they have been relegated to lesser training facilities. Makyas is here as well, being his usual facetious self. I spend so ti with them playing strange gas of luck, then I return to training with renewed passion.
My first attempt at changing the Magna Arqa ends catastrophically when one of the roots upends the chessboard. Rather than growing angry, Cadiz encourages instead.
"I see you are attacking the problem from another angle. We will practice with lighter exercises while you find your marks again."
As expected, my control over the Magna Arqa collapses completely when I am not trying to direct it. After a few attempts, I do realize that, indeed, if I do not focus on them, the statues move much more naturally, as naturally as they do inside of my mind palace. Progressively, I try to find the sweet spot between order and autonomy. The roots and statues must follow directions, but I cannot be controlling them directly. The task is made excessively hard by the level of ruthless aggression they display when I make no effort. Even the archer squad decides to withdraw at the beginning. Yet despite all those difficulties, I know I am on the right path. Nights blur into weeks, then into months. Under Cadiz' guidance, I keep progressing at an exhilarating pace. He is truly a great ntor despite his poor social graces. Finally, after one year of effort, I am ready for the next step.
"You have dramatically improved. You are a much cleaner fighter than when we first began, and so the ti has co to focus on the next step of training: giving you experience fighting a superior opponent. My Magna Arqa is called Blade's Edge and it is unfortunately a strike type. Nevertheless, it should still help you."
"You give nas to Magna Arqa?"
"Yes, it helps to morize and understand them. I nad yours 'Garden of the Thorn Queen," for example."
"Poetic, but I would rather choose myself. Speaking of superior opponents, you never ntioned what Nirari's Magna Arqa was."
"Ah yes. I call it the Last Dawn of Babylon, both a domain and avatar ability. It grants him an aura that empowers him and weakens vampires through light magic. I understand that it grows with every foe he has ever killed."
"Wait…"
"Much like yours, it is an infinitely growing ability, and yes, he has had three thousand years to feed it, and yes, I could not defeat him the last ti the two of us t in battle centuries ago."
…. what?
"I see I should have led with that. I have never seen you so committed!"
"It does what?"
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