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3.07% The Forsaken Hero / Chapter 18: Sparring Session

บท 18: Sparring Session

A large crowd of spectators and soldiers gathered in a circle around the sparring grounds. Between the bodies of the onlookers, I could make out two figures fighting. Every time their swords met, flashes of light soared heavenward, exploding like fireworks above the church.

I squirmed through the throng and made my way to the front. Whenever someone looked at me, annoyed, they'd quickly recoil and make room, lest they touch me. It seems "filthblood" was also a code name for "fast pass."

I immediately recognized Soltair as one of the contestants. His gilded sword danced gracefully around the battlefield, pressuring his opponent and deflecting attacks. The other contestant was a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair, probably in her early teens. Her lithe body and ample curves were easily seen through her revealing leather armor, giving her an alluring effect. She wielded curved short swords, constantly spinning them about and striking from unpredictable angles.

After a few clashes, it became apparent that Soltair was stronger, but the girl much faster. He spent most of the time on the defense, parrying beautifully but unable to land a decisive blow.

Soltair shouted and swung his sword, sending a beam of light out to strike the girl. Surprisingly, he didn't use a chant, nor could I see a magic circle. Crossing her swords, the blonde fighter blocked the attack. Using the force of the blow to flip back and gain some distance, her lips curved into a playful smile.

"You're not bad, hero, but can you handle this? Fire blades!"

She began chanting quickly, forming three circles of runes. A blistering heat surged outward as fire erupted from the magic circles, sheathing her swords in flames. Squinting against heat, Soltair raised his sword and braced himself.

The girl danced forward, elaborate ribbons of fire tracing her swords. The curling fire hung in the air before slowly dispersing, but by that time, she had arrived. Soltair shouted and brandished his sword, calling forth a brilliant aura of light. I barely caught a magic circle around him, but it vanished just as quickly.

When the two collided, flame mixed with sunlight and exploded upward, scorching the sky. My heart leaped in my throat as the magic consumed them, hiding even their silhouettes.

When the smoke cleared, I was stunned to see a massive starburst of scorched earth with them at the center. Despite the magnitude of the blast, both were relatively unharmed, although the girl was slightly worse off. Pale burns crawled up her arms, drawing a wince of pain from her otherwise flawless face. Looking spent, she sheathed her swords and fell back.

"I give, this time," she said, sounding dispirited.

Soltair sighed and returned his sword to its scabbard. "That one was close, Trithe. A little more, and you'd have had me."

"Don't be modest," she said coyly. "I know you're holding back. How else could you stand against the first prince?"

Relief filled me at their friendly banter. It was absurd to think anyone could have survived that heat, but there they were. Magic certainly was incredible.

"Soltair!" I cried, stepping toward him gingerly, cautious of the scorched ground. The heat was quickly fading, but the temperature still made me uncomfortable.

"Xiviyah?" What are you doing here?" he asked, looking pleasantly surprised to see me.

"Who's this?" Trithe asked, swiping her long blonde hair behind her shoulder. Her eyes narrowed as I grabbed Soltair's hand, looking at a small burn. "Get away from him, filthblood! How dare you soil the hero!"

I flinched and stepped back, dropping his hand. Her eyes glowed menacingly, filled with enough hostility to kill a dragon.

"Trithe," Soltair said with a frown. "This is my slave, Xiviyah."

"Not conquered enough, by the looks of it," she shot back, placing her hands on the hilts of her knives.

"Don't be ridiculous," he scoffed. "She's a hero, like me."

"Get back to training!" Jordan's voice boomed, cutting through the tension. The surrounding crowds immediately dispersed although many cast longing looks behind at us, as though wanting to see more of the show.

The big man walked over and placed a hand on my shoulder. "How'd the magic training go?"

Immediately, I brightened up. "Fantastic! There was this rude guy named Voric, but I even managed to cast a spell. Selena seemed pretty impressed."

"Not bad," he said, patting me on the back a few times.

Soltair's eyes sharpened. "Voric? What happened with him?"

"It's nothing much. Just a disagreement." There was no need to burden him with such a minor inconvenience. "Selena gave me a key to the library so I can learn a few spells later."

"Don't go too overboard," Jordan warned. "I just got used to the idea of having a Demonkin around."

"Thanks."

"You too?" Trithe asked, glaring at Jordan. "She's an enemy."

"Not yet," Jordan said, although something in his tone made me shiver. After seeing how much the soldiers respected him, I definitely didn't want him as a foe.

"Ignore her," Soltair whispered to me. "Trithe's got a bit of a history with Demonkin. Hopefully, she'll come around."

"Who is she?" I whispered back.

"One of the kingdom's prodigies. I've been training with her since arriving, so we've grown close. We usually spar a few times a week."

"And I'm currently ahead," Trithe snapped. "Hero, let's fight tomorrow."

"As you wish," he replied, smiling softly. "But don't expect me to go easy."

She turned with a huff, stalking away from us. After a few steps, she turned and glared at me. It was filled with anger, and… jealousy? It melted away the instant Soltair turned to look at her, replaced with a wave.

"Later."

"Are you ready to go?" Soltair asked me, ignoring her retreating back.

"Sure. What's next?"

He sighed, long and hard. "School. Well, basically. They're convinced I need to know every kingdom, noble, or even slightly influential merchant on the continent."

"Sounds boring," I said, but didn't mind. As long as we suffered together, I didn't care what happened.

Moving from one activity to another, the day came to an end. Although most of the tutors and priests were initially resistant to my presence, they reluctantly accepted me after Soltair threw his weight around. He had considerable influence around the lower clergy, almost on the level of worship. As night fell, we returned to his quarters. I was exhausted, but the excitement of casting magic still filled me.

Soltair dropped his sword and fell on the bed. I stood uncertainly by the door, not sure if I should close it. We were alone, after all. Although we were only 14, that was already past the marrying age in this world.

"Something wrong?" he asked, looking at me curiously.

"W-where am I supposed to stay? I don't really have anything, but I can't sleep here," I explained shyly.

He blinked a few times and suddenly stiffened. "Oh, yeah. There should be some servant's quarters around here, so you can have one of those rooms. Unless," he smiled jokingly, "you want to share my bed."

To be honest, I wouldn't really mind.

"What was that?" he asked.

"Nothing!" I blushed furiously. Why had I said that aloud?

Running out of the room, I found the servant's quarters and threw myself on the bed, praying he hadn't heard actually heard that. Still, a small part of me hoped he had. Maybe, someday… no, let's focus on the present for now.


next chapter

บท 19: The Library of Light

The next day, I brought up heading to the library. Soltair paled the instant he heard the word 'library,' and gave some excuse. So, I ended up going alone, following his instructions, of course. Which mainly consisted of "Stick to the main corridors," and "Don't follow anyone anywhere."

The Divine Throne was a sprawling mess of buildings and passages, but important places, like the chapels and library, were easy to find. It was its own building within the complex, surrounded by a narrow courtyard but towering above my head. It was a few hundred feet tall, equaling the height of the Great Chapel. Statues of prominent priests and mages surrounded its four entrances, with small plaques detailing their contributions or donation.

"Welcome!" a priest in brown robes said as I entered the library. His expression froze when as he got a good look at me, especially my tail, which swished in excitement. "You must be the… hero… I've been hearing about."

"Good to meet you. I'm Xiviyah." Although the constant surprise and disgust were a bit wearying, I planned on coming to the library too much to risk making an enemy.

"I see," he said, scratching his chin. "And what brings you to these hallowed halls?"

As I looked over his shoulder, the sight made my mouth drop. Similar to the Great Chapel, the only ceiling was the roof, which filtered light through layers of stained glass. The library was an enormous dome, with hundreds of bookshelves spiraling around the room. Although the room was open, I counted five floors. Each layer was like a giant ring attached to the dome, ascending until it reached the ceiling. Dozens of priests wandered about, conversing and studying at the various alcoves and tables. My keen nose twitched at the smell of musty paper, accompanied by the constant drone of paper rasping together.

"Amazing, isn't it?" the brown-robed priest asked. "We call this the Library of the Light. Not just for our devotion to the Sun God and pantheon, but as a symbol of knowledge. Thousands of years of knowledge and experience are gathered here, much more than any one person could hope to comprehend in a lifetime. You may call me Thron, the chief librarian. May I see your pass?"

I Wordlessly handed him the pass Selena had given me, still staring around the library. There had to be millions of books! The dome itself was fifty feet wide at the top, let alone the base, with every available space lined with shelves. Magical lights filled the room, dancing over tables or bobbing up and down on bookshelves.

"All seems to be in order," Thron said. He turned to another brown-robed priest and beckoned him over. "Take her to the third floor. And please, mind your manners."

"Yes," the priest said, bowing his head. "I am Davin."

"You, come," he said stiffly, beckoning me forward.

I followed him closely, but he never so much as looked at me, keeping his eyes glued ahead. We got on a magical platform that ascended the dome like an elevator, which ascended just quickly enough to lift my hair.

"Follow me," Davin said, stepping off onto the third floor.

A narrow guard rail was all that separated us from the hundred-foot fall to the ground. Looking up, I gulped, imagining what the highest floor felt like. Walking around the circular level, we passed large swaths of bookshelves labeled with different magic fields. Sun was the largest, containing thousands of volumes and hundreds more scrolls. Dozens of mages traversed the shelves or sat within the small alcoves, giving the section a lively atmosphere.

We finally arrived on the far side, and the priest pointed at the smallest section yet. The shelves were dry and dusty, looking as though years had passed since they'd last been cleaned. I could make out the word "Fate" carved on the edges, barely discernable under a thick layer of dust.

"If you have any questions, please find a brown-robed priest," Davin said, turning smartly and marching away. I got the feeling he meant anyone other than him.

Taking a deep breath, I wandered through the dozen or so bookshelves until I found the first-circle section. That wasn't hard, considering it was larger than every other section combined. Guess no one got around to anything higher than that.

"Isn't this too much?" I wondered aloud, blowing the dust from a few covers.

"Indeed, it's quite a shame."

I jumped, startled, as an old man seemed to appear right behind me. He wore dark gray robes and had an impressive bald spot that covered all but the sides of his head. Thin gray hair trailed to his shoulders, and countless wrinkles wore into his face. His eyes seemed to have missed the memo and were a startling blue, sparkling with keen vigor.

"W-who are you?" I asked, stumbling back again the bookshelf.

I winced as a book pushed against my back, digging into my flesh. He chuckled, reaching out to steady me.

"Careful, young one. Many of these books haven't seen use in decades. Who knows what a little horseplay would do to them."

I bowed my head and steadied my nerves. "Sorry. You just appeared so suddenly."

"I've got a habit of doing that, it seems. At least you weren't like that other fellow. Falling over a railing from something as small as this…"

I shivered and looked to change the subject. This guy was scary! "I'm Xiviyah, the Hero of Fate."

"Xiviyah, is it? He mentioned a new ninth-level caster, but I wanted to see it for myself. The gods truly sent us a demonkin, it seems."

I flinched as he reached out and pinched my horn, sending a sharp tingle down my back. "Please, don't," I said, pushing his hand away. It was leathery and wrinkled, reminding me of a bit of sandpaper.

"It's not often I see a Demonkin alive. Are your horns really that sensitive? And how much control do you have over your tail? Could you pick something up with it? I've heard demonkin vision is especially sharp. Does it work in complete darkness?"

I blinked at the sudden barrage of questions, unable to keep up with the unending flow. Wait, could my tail actually pick something up? He took my moment of hesitation as discomfort, and backed off, taking a deep breath.

"My apologies, young one. Sometimes, my old mind wanders and I lose control. Allow me to offer my services as a gesture of reparation. Please, call me Lysander."

"Lysander? What kind of services?" I asked warily.

He smiled, a peculiar light dancing in his eyes. "You came to learn magic, right? Ask away."

"That's okay," I said, "Selena already taught me about magic."

"Selena, is it? I remember her. small elf, maybe 50 years old? Has a strange knack for slime magic? Or was that the other one… eh, those were the times," he said with a sigh. "But I can't imagine an apprentice like her has much to share with you."

"I don't think we're talking about the same person. Selena's an adult elf, probably a few hundred years old. Also, she's one of the magical instructors, not an apprentice."

His eyes widened. "Really? Time has a strange way of changing people. Regardless, don't let this opportunity slip you by. Surely you have some questions about magic."

Taking a seat on a nearby chair, I thought for a while. "If you insist, I guess I have a few questions. What can you tell me about Fate magic?"


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