Something in the night stirred.
It happens to all people I think.
And incomprehensible movement, a shift in the unseen that causes the brain to scream and the body to wake.
And so, in the dead of night, where even snow slept.
My eyes fluttered open.
Exhaustion clung to thought, making it come slow and blurry. As if trying to pierce a heavy fog. My body was a mess of aches and pains, each one begging me to go back to bed.
But no - something had woken me up.
And strangely, I felt compelled to know what it was.
So silently I lay there, wondering what had changed. Because I knew something had, and that only my own fatigue was stopping me from figuring it out.
Close by, I could hear the crackle of the fire. That was nothing out of the ordinary. Syar lit them during the night to ensure I stayed warm enough. He himself never needed it, yet during the nights I'd often catch sitting by the fire anyway.
Gazing into the dancing orange depths as if seeing an old friend.
It was an eccentricity of his I never questioned. Everyone had their past, and disciple or not, I wouldn't pry.
Not until he wanted me to.
It was then, I finally caught what had been off. What had pulled me from my warm dreams back out into the world.
It was a sound.
Singing perhaps?
Now that I had distinguished it, it became all the more clearer to my ears.
He sung in a low, soft gruffness. As if he was recounting a tale to himself only, doing it almost without realising.
The song was a sad one.
Mournful and slow, in words I could not understand. They sounded harsh and rough, complementing the soft serenade.
"Bho sgàil a rugadh, gu sgàil a chaidh a dhèanamh,
Bidh sinn a' coiseachd nan slighean nach urrainn solas a sheargadh.
An anail a bheir sinn, na h-ainmean a chumas sinn,
Is iad sin tiodhlacan - "
Immediately the song ceased, tone strangling off into the emptiness.
I froze - forcing my breaths to come long and slow.
"Boy" Syar called out. "Anyone tell you it's rude to eavesdrop?"
'Shit.'
Trying to fix a disarming smile, I rose from my bedroll, trying to muster up as much grace as possible. "Ahh, master, I didn't see you th-"
"Shut up and sit down" Syar cut in, gesturing next to him.
Letting the smile fall of my face, I obeyed. Glad to be near the flame.
For a time, it's soft crackles punctuated the silence between us. It's orange light casting flickering shadows across our face.
"How did you find it?" Syar asked.
For a long moment, I didn't respond, considering the question.
Finally I deliberated on one word. "Sad."
"A man of many words I see" Syar laughed. He seemed to be less guarded than usual. More open than I'd ever see him.
For once, I could swear he almost seemed human.
"Not much to say" I shrugged, "I didn't understand what you were saying."
"Ahh well, that checks out I guess. There are....not many who would."
"So?"
"So what boy?"
"So aren't you going to sing it so I can understand?"
Syar blinked for a moment, as if taken off guard. "You...want to hear it?"
"Sure, why not" I yawned, stretching my arms. "It'd be nice before I go to bed." 'And perhaps I can steal a line or two for my own poems' I added to myself silently.
Leaning backwards, eyes roaming the caverns ceiling, Syar began his song.
His voice soft, and yet this time, the words echoed all around the cavern. As if the mountain was singing the words back to him in a child's whisper.
"From shadows born, to shadows made,
We walk the path no light can fade.
The breath we take, the names we keep,
Are gifts the Shadow gave in sleep.
It watches close, it watches kind,
It weaves its will through blood and mind.
It wraps us warm in dusk and stone—
And in the end, we go alone.
So hush thee now, and still thy soul,
The dark will come to make thee whole.
For all return, both beast and man,
To where the song of Night began."
"I don't get what song is about?" I asked, frowning.
"About? Well you don't need to worry what it's about. No one does."
"Where's it from then?"
"Somewhere you won't have to worry about."
Letting out a heavy sigh, I also leaned back, joining Syar's gaze. My master could be incredibly annoying sometimes.
"Okay then....who is the song for? Songs are always for someone, or something."
"Are they?" he mused. "Yes, perhaps they are, this song, it is - was - a children's song. Used to lull the young back to sleep."
"I see, for a child then." Yawning, I closed my eyes, turning over to my side. "It's kinda sad for a child."
"Yes" Syar replied, voice softer than silk. Barely audible over the flames. "Yes I suppose it is."
But before I could hear what else he said, I'd already fallen back to sleep.
..........
Groaning, I woke up to the sounds of snowfall. My body felt a little better, but it was still a mess of aches and sore.
When I opened my eyes I was back in my bedroll. Tucked in, protected from the blistering cold.
'I swear I'd fallen asleep by the fire?'
For a moment, I thought last night had all been a fever dream. It certainly seemed like one looking back.
But something told me it hadn't. It had felt too, too something that I couldn't quiet put to name. But nameless though it was, it convinced me that last night had been real.
First thing I did was begin stretching. It was a half an hour gruelling process of which every aching muscles was stretched to their extreme. It left me feeling looser, body ready to tackle another day.
'Status'
[NAME : Arthur Gravewalker
RACE: Human
TRAIT : UNKNOWN
CLASS : UNKNOWN
BLESSINGS:
1. ???'s blessing
2. Hade's blessing
AURA: LOCKED
BATTLE ART : [ FORSAKEN ASH STAFF STYLE ***] Beginner mastery Lvl 1 (10%)
[FALLING SUN STYLE ****] Beginner mastery Lvl 1 (0.1%)
BREATHING ART: N/A
SKILLS:
Mana Surge (common) Beginner- mastery Lvl 3 (31.7%)
Healing blood (???) Beginner - mastery Lvl 4 (71.1%)
TALENT: UNMEASURED
STATS:
[ STRENGTH : UR
SPEED : F-
STAMINA : F-
AGILITY : F-
MENTAL : F+
MANA CONTROL : F+
CHARM : G-]
"Where's my imperial spearmanship gone?" I frowned, inspecting the screen. It didn't make sense.
The only way in which it could make sense was if I had a class. Classes were rare, but not so rare that it'd would
Unfortunately, the only way I could discover what it was, was if I went into a church.
And that wouldn't happen anytime soon. Especially since I was legally deceased in the Thoracen Empire.
"Ahh boy, you're awake" Syar called, appearing before me in a ripple of wind.
Eyeing him, I saw none of the almost human vulnerability that had been there last night. He seemed back to his normal self, as if last night had never happened.
Well, if that's the way he wanted to go about it, who was I to try and do otherwise?
"Master."
"Today's your last day boy. Unfortunately, there is no more time."
"So, what's the training today then?"
"Today?" Syar smiled, eyes glimmering with that familiar light I'd come to associate with danger. "Today we'll see if you're worthy of that staff boy."
Pain forgotten I summon Ikarus. The staff appeared in a flurry of light, sitting comfortably in my grasp.
Summoning nothing, Syar beckoned me. Voice louder, imperious even. "Come boy."
'Mana Surge'
Invigorated by the mana coursing through my body, I lunged forward in a rush of thrusts. Each one was dodged, and yet Syar never moved one step. Only slightly tilting out the way as the staff slipped by him.
'Whisper.'
Mana surged forward from my core, threading down my body into my legs.
Perhaps this time I'd succeed. Perhaps this time, I'd do it.
But as soon as I'd hoped the mana stuttered. Dying as it failed to carve the path I demanded it take.
Instead of lunging to the right - my legs shuddered. Rebound jarring my bones, as I staggered back.
"You tried it again boy?" My master's smile was infuriating to look at. More so because he'd guessed right.
"Yes" I growled, jaw clenched tight.
"The way you go about it, you'll never achieve Whispering step. Your mana finesse is above average for a Beginner. But you never seem to dedicate that same skill when trying to carve the movement step. Keep forcing it, and you'll do nothing but damage yourself."
"So what do I do?" I groaned, just catching myself from slamming Ikarus down in frustration.
"Whispering step. Think boy, does that seem like a movement technique that requires cramming mana into your legs?"
"But I don't cram, I try and guide, but it always just stutters."
"Well discover it quick. Otherwise you'll be able to perform none of the three moves that I taught you. All of them require the movement technique to be able to function as a real mana fighting art."
"Isn't there any way you could just help me?"
"There is."
"So why don't you?"
"Because it's better for you to figure it out yourself. Or do you want me running over every time you learn a new damn spell."
Carving a spell was difficult business.
While having an affinity to something allowed you manipulation over that element. It was incredibly difficult, slow and strained, requiring large amounts of mana.
Which is why, usually skills were carved into the body through mana channels. It allowed much quicker use of the skill, making it quicker to use in combat.
That mana technique for Forsake Ash was an affinity less one.
Yet for the past two months, I'd consistently failed to carve the movement technique into my body.
The mana technique for every single move had been successfully transcribed, ready and waiting for use. Yet without the movement technique, it was all for naught.
Leaving me with a crippled fighting art.
It was almost laughable.
One fighting art took too much mana out of me, and the other, not at all. And yet both were useless.