Forgemaster (Book 1 in the Spirit Guide Saga)

by H. Lee Morgan, Jr

Chapter 6

  Alone in a room full of medieval age looking equipment of a trademark blacksmith stood a giant fiery bird. The top of her Phoenix’s head stood close to eight feet with a long, elegant neck thick layered with muscle beneath vibrant feathers of red and gold. For a moment Ethan liked it to an ostrich, but the two were polar opposites. The Phoenix had a long neck that was similar to a goose, but with a predatory curved beak. The thick neck connected with a large body supporting long folded wings and made it the largest bird he’d ever seen. Bright orange and red plumage were sleek and glossy, but the bird’s entire body was shrouded entirely by fire which constantly blazed. Long, thick running legs stood on eagle-like curved, sharp talons which could grip any prey and carry it off. Burning tail feathers were long and caressed the floor behind her. The oddest thing in Ethan’s overall description of the large mythically real bird is that at the primary wing-joints were three fingerlike appendages holding onto a rounded head hammer while her other wing held a dented helmet glowing red quickly in her powerful grasp after being recently quenched.

  Celestia’s beak was parted while hypnotic green irises were wide, almost mirroring Ethan’s human reaction. She was as surprised to find him standing as he was to stare at such a beautiful avian.

  The Phoenix recovered first by throwing down the hammer and helm to ask in a far gentler and far away tone “How is it you still stand? No man who is a Wizard have lived through my flames.”

  “I’m not a Wizard.” Ethan clarified. “So you are the infamous Celestia everyone praises and fears?”

  The most dangerous bird of prey cocked her head and took a step closer. “I am Celestia, Order’s greatest Forgemaster. Answer my question hatchling. How do you still stand?”

  “I control fire too. Everyone calls me a Fire Elemental. Fire and heat do not harm me.” He answered, looking up higher and higher as those curious and luminous emeralds approached without blinking.

  “It’s true…Bloody Hell.” She chirped in almost a whisper when her breast was less than three feet from him standing outside the shop. “Only dragons and Gargoyles can stand this close to me without running or catching afire. Last Fire Elemental to stand before me was little Solomon, but he died thousands of year ago… What is it you require? No dawdling now. I’m quite busy.”

  Ethan felt he stood before a queen above all royalty and did the only thing he knew might please her. He knelt down on both knees and laid the unfinished sword onto the ground, bowed his forehead all the way down to the cool stone and said “I come to learn from you. I just arrived today to this place and Odin said I need a beneficial job for this house. He gave me options, but becoming your apprentice sounded best and most rewarding. I will put my everything into learning your craft and ease the high demand and burden placed solely on your magnificent… wings.” He nearly said ‘shoulders.’ “Will you please allow me the chance to learn from you?”

  Celestia looked down at the prostrating human closely, listening to every word. Few had shown her this much respect after her fire assault. Fewer more had ever sounded so sincere and humble rather than fleeing or challenging her. Her critical eyes betrayed nothing of her inner assumptions, especially about Odin’s meddling. She vowed to have words soon about this unorthodox interruption. Then she noticed the blade at his side and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Were you trying to steal one of my creations?” her seething tone wasn’t lost on him, she noticed him cringe.

  “Never.” He kept his forehead glued to the ground. “I hate theft and immoral issues. I saw the unfinished blade hanging outside here and saw it has been neglected for some time for it has begun to rust. I took it to show you how I can be of assistance.”

  “Oh?” she sounded unconvinced as her fiery body illuminated the nearby area brightly in the darkening landscape. “Stand up then and show me how you were going to appeal to my sensibilities by taking one of my creations.” Doing as ordered he quickly stood, lifted the dull, rusty blade and stepped back. “And just where do you think you’re going. One more step and I’ll really kill you. That sword is meant for another client.”

  “I just merely wished you could see my power to warm the blade and not be seen as done so from your own flames.” He said after stopping mid step.

  “Then you are far enough.” Her tucked wings fluffed and slightly swirled her fire around. Ethan held still and grabbed both ends of the sword, holding it outward and could feel the telltale tingling signs of using fire.

  Celestia watched with critical eyes as the black and slightly rusty blade began smoking. Chunks of accumulated debris began falling and then she began to see the metal glowing cherry red, but didn’t stop. It grew brighter and brighter. When it got white hot she about lunged over to pull it from his grasp before it was irreparably damaged and be forced to start over completely, but then he took the malleable ends and easily folded it in half as if it were a wet noodle. Even from eight yards away Celestia could feel the intense heat the folded metal brush against her own fire. She then asked “Why did you fold the metal at just that moment? Why not wait another second or two?”

  Ethan made her wait a second as he sat the metal down and used his bare hands to line the fold out before pulling it back to an average closeness of its original length and pressed the pieces together like a sandwich. He meticulously used the ground to hold it while saying “My power told me the metal was about to melt and lose its structure. When my power first began heating it I felt the seventy previous folds inside and added another. It is a common technique I once read about, but it also makes the material more durable and less likely to break under tension. But that is as much as I know regarding metalworking. Oh, and it needs to be hammered. My hands don’t give enough of an impact.”

  “Pick it up and come inside. I wish to see how well you can use a hammer.” Celestia spun and her talons clicked on the ground as she walked back inside. Ethan lifted the superheated metal barehanded and followed eagerly.

  Standing alone and hidden beside a tree was Storm-shadow who said more to himself “Good luck, Ethan. You’re off to a good start.” And he left.

  Inside, Celestia pointed one of her wing’s three fingers to a wide top anvil and procured a flat hammer while Ethan shut the door. “Place the work here and show me your novice technique.”

  He stepped quickly while taking in the room. The roof was over fifteen feet high and blackened from countless years of work. A billow one would pump stuck out from a blazing furnace with aged wood and coal for fuel. Hanging from racks inside were dozens of varying hand held weapons, shields and armor, some even had horseshoes and what look like large teeth. Along the wall of the furnace were hundreds and hundreds of tools specifically geared toward the crafting process. To the opposite wall were a honeycomb of openings stuffed with two dozen or more types of specific twinkling metals just waiting to be smelted. All were already in processed and sat as pure ingots or like fine sand. A hundred hanging racks were full of creations, just waiting to be finalized. Over by a door seemed to be the only simple machine, a lathe-like, foot powered machine about five feet tall was well used and waited for someone to pump the foot petal to start the spinning process. But unlike how he always imagined a blacksmith’s workshop to be, Celestia kept everything highly organized and out of the way so none could trip or feel crowded. Ethan figured a bird of her size would need the room.

  Ethan took the offered, solid metal hammer, suppressing a grunt to heft it. It weighed a good ten pounds. Celestia remained close with her long neck watching every moment. Few creatures could stand near her, but Ethan’s immunity didn’t even make him sweat. He felt warm like on a summer day, but not overheated. He silently thanked his powers while concerned with her proximity.

  He lay the still hot metal on the anvil and held one end in his hand. He considered carefully where the strikes would start and lifted the hammer and brought it down. Showers of sparks startled him, but he didn’t let it show as he aimed for the tip again. He did it over and over, sometimes tur
ning it to add a sharp point to the front. He brought the hammer down time and again. Fatigue coupled with the hammer’s extensive weight soon started becoming labored. He was forced to change hands and Celestia silently watched and observed without comment. When the white hot glow diminished he reheated it easily.

  When he felt the hammering sufficient he sat the hammer down and looked up to ask “What do I do next? Put it in water?”

  She shook her head. “No, quench the metal first in purified oil for ten seconds and then in water.” She pointed to a series of liquid filled buckets. When he hesitated and couldn’t differentiate one dark liquid from another she said “Far right is the oil needed for that stage of working. Water is adjoining.” Flames erupted as soon as the hot metal was entirely submerged for the allotted time. He then stuck his hand in the oil and pulled out the flaming, oil dripping material which he even went so far as to use his own fingers to wipe the excess back in before dropping it into the dirty looking water. “Leave it and come here.” He brushed his blackened hands on his jeans before standing before her. “Name?”

  “Ethan, Ma’am.”

  “Ethan,” Celestia began. “Tell me why you hammered from the tip fold and work your way down to the pommel.”

  “Because I thought if there were any tiny air bubbles trapped it would first be in the tip so I worked my way down from the top, slowly making sure I didn’t miss a single bubble. Celestia, is it too early to ask to become your apprentice?”

  Her neck arched and her head tilted considerably. “I saw a clearly untrained human hand beating away at my most precious livelihood like a mindless Neanderthal. The hits were sloppy, weak and your hands are soft, telling me your life has been leisurely.” Ethan gasped as he looked at his bloody hands. They were so numb he didn’t notice and shame filled his expression. His head dropped, but three clawed fingers lifted his chin to look into her green eyes. “But untrained as you are, Ethan, I saw your focus only on the task and no outside thoughts broke that concentration for a moment. I noticed you are right handed, but when the pain in your shoulder became too much your left struck well enough and didn’t compromise the straightness I saw when the blade lifted. You even forgot I was right behind you once a personal rhythm started.” She withdrew her wing. “Your promise of hard work and dedication wasn’t false. You have much promise I can work with. More than I have seen in many centuries and never in a human. Yes, I will be your master, but for now go to the sink and clean your wounds. In the stone cabinet I have fire resistant linen you can use for a bandage. Your apprenticeship begins at once. Tend to your wounds and return to my side. You have three minutes.”

  Celestia was startled as Ethan unceremoniously cheered and wrapped long arms around her neck for a hug and then rushed over to a sink to grimace and rip the ribbons of broken skin from them. The numbness of hammering is all that saved him. The Phoenix blinked at the show of affection, shook her head and lifted the helmet she was working on earlier and began heating it again.

  After a few swings she heard the sound of linen ripping and a minute later Ethan stood at her side as her wing came down to hammer the heated helm. She noted his bandaged palms only an amateur could do, but said “Hold the helmet over the horn and turn it slowly each time I hit it.”

  “The what?” He asked in ignorance.

  “Horn. The horn, Boy. Here on the anvil. This here is the horn, the table, the face, the hardy hole and the pritchel hole.” Celestia pointed to the areas of the giant anvil and expected him to remember. He took the heated helm and put it over the horn, careful to keep his fingers from powerful and controlled strikes. She heard him whispering the names over and over, committing them to memory and she was satisfied with it. “Turn more slowly, Boy… That’s it.” She slammed the hammer again. “I do not allow a single creation leave my sight without utter perfection. No smith makes better quality than I for that very reason. Nothing else compares… A little more for the eyelet… good. Now go put that in the forge for the remainder of the night and bring the a scimitar.” The blank look she received prompted her to say “The curved saber that broadens more at the point.”

  “Yes, Ma’am.” He stuck his arms confidently into the flames and placed the helm on an open spot and then lifted the long weapon. “This one?” he asked and noticed his bandaged hands still intact as if the furnace’s flames were useless.

  Celestia nodded, had him hold the raw hilt and watch as she worked. Her grip on the hammer he used earlier went up and down repeatedly and her precise movements and rhythm couldn’t hide the strength used or that the endurance was far superior to his. “Turn.” She said and he quickly obliged. “Heat the core to three thousand degrees just beneath the flat spine.”

  “Celestia, I don’t have that knowledge yet. I just learned to use my flame today.”

  His statement stopped her next blow half way midair. Her sharp, hawk-like green eyes shot to his honest grey. “Say that again. You learned this power today? How? Were you not born with it? I see no trauma which would release it through recent self preservation.”

  “I didn’t get it till after I came back to life yesterday. Fate used a Blue Rose of Truth to make me a new body after I died way too soon and veered off his path he created for me.”

  Celestia sat the hammer down to look at her new pupil in a new light. “So you died? Only the eldest and heads know of Fate’s blue roses that restore mortal form to the spirit and he hordes them more than my own craft’s secrets. I now see why you were so open of expression to see me. You know so little about all this, Yes?” She spread her brilliant wings and filled most of the room. All he could do was nod. “Bloody hell… The control of fire you demonstrated for me on the Gladius was so precise I thought your control was based off years of practice… hmm.” She cocked her head and clicked her beak. “Your folding was impeccable in timing, but you’ve never learned the nuances of our rare gift. Go to the cabinet beneath the sink and locate the thermometer to learn the exact degrees I call out. Until I know you can instantly modify temperature you must not assist me. If you have a strong mind you will learn rapidly.” Celestia picked up the sword and hammer to use her own flammable powers to accurately do what she wished.

  Ethan moved over and opened a sliding stone cabinet beneath the sink and inside the blackened place were many specifically placed items. Most of all had a metallic, dull gold coloring much like Odin’s spear. These were all instruments meant for specific situations. “Thermometer… Thermometer… Is this it, Celestia?” He brought out a contraption much like a metal crock-pot with a lid welded to four, five inch long metal bars welded to a wide base so it would never come off. One thin tenth of an inch wide line sat vertically over three levels of circular numbers. The bottom level had bold numbers starting from zero to ten and from the same start were negative to ten. The middle of the device had the same, but in hundreds and the upper had thousands with the letter K next to the number as representation of the thousand symbol. On the lid though were more runes of protection. Some he remembered from the room in Kiroq’s underground home.

  “Correct. Set your hand afire and place it on the top. I invented that myself, a more accurate version to Fahrenheit, but very similar. By your accent you are American. You will be more familiar than others who use Celsius.” Her head turned back around.

  Ethan carried the device over to a stone workbench and sat. He looked closely at the intended line and whispered “No way! It’s nine hundred and thirty one degrees in here? One forty would kill anyone.” He gulped, realizing most of the heat came from the Phoenix herself and figured it wasn’t her only her personality that kept her away from the castle. For everyone else, Celestia was too dangerous to be near.

  He wiped a few beads of sweat away, not from the heat but from exercise and realization of where he was. To fight his scattered thoughts he focused on the bright and shiny device. A gentle flame came alive over his hand obediently and as soon as he placed it over the top the dials began to spin. It jumped to fiftee
n hundred and that was a weak temperature. He told his flame to remain steady and after a bit of work the dials held constant. He dimmed the flame and it dropped one hundred and then two. He weakened it further and tried to drop it one single degree for every minute, learning how to more accurately do so. He remained solely concentrated, bringing the heat back up when the natural room temperature was higher than the flames. He learned quickly how to measure his heat by number and could even cool the metal by pulling the heat inwards with a thought.

  His concentration was so focused he didn’t notice Celestia had worked another three blades and stood directly in front of the table or sitting down the protected tablet and guidebook. She admired concentration for a blacksmith of any worth needed relentless concentration to ever make a worthy creation. Then she broke it by saying “Ethan, it has been six hours and you are in need of rest. Before that, would you like a test?”

  “Huh?” Six hours? He thought. “It’s been that long, really? Didn’t feel like it?” he then groaned when he sat back. “Never mind, my body answered the question… Ah, no, not yet, Celestia. I need much more practice.”

  “Very well. Head through that door and go up the stairs. Your nest will be the door to the left. Mine is right. I’ve already checked and all your belongings are there. The nest is bare, but comfortable. Bathe and rest. Return here directly after the House’s evening meal.” She then walked forth to the front door.

  “Where are you going?”

  Celestia paused and said “I must go visit Odin about a certain matter. Now do as I say, Boy.” She then left the room.

  Ethan stood and before doing her bidding, noticed the floor had gotten wet from quenching and large shards of metal were around. A metal broom of the same odd metal stood alone in a corner so he trudged over and personally swept the whole floor and used a rag to wipe up the warm water and spilled oil off the ground.

  A half hour later he could barely move, but he stored the temperature device beneath the sink, grabbed his things and headed for the door and walked up the stone steps, turning left and headed to an ancient iron door that opened with a single ring instead of a doorknob. The darkness was greater than human eyes could navigate by, but one torch lit fist fixed that problem. He expected it to be heavy, but the door swung in with little effort and without a sound from oiled hinges.

  Inside the room, Ethan’s lit fist revealed a light switch which he flipped and ended the fire. He was so tired he barely saw his boxes stacked in the center beneath a ceiling fan, but he did set the tablet and book down on the stack and headed for another arched door made of some old wood which revealed a large bathtub, toilet and sink with a mirror.

  Instinctively Ethan moved to the tub and turned the red hot water knob and plugged the drain. He then shed his dirty clothing, removed the linen from his now angry and pained hands and sunk down into the filling tub.

  As a hot bath seeped into an aching body, it returned some temporary vitality and promoted relaxation. He forced himself to not doze off, but as soon as he felt his lids closing he forced his limbs to exit and unplug the drain.

  Too tired to properly dry off, Ethan walked back into the main room, spotted a naked bed void of sheets with two large pillows and as soon as he crawled in oblivion claimed him completely.

  “Wake up, Handsome!” came an unfamiliar voice at the edge of a dream. “Wakey, wakey! Haven’t seen such a fine looking butt in ages without hair while the rest of your torso is like a teddy without all that nasty back-hair.” The voice was male and gay by the lilting ring to it. Ethan immediately knew something was wrong and his eyes opened groggily. “Finally! I thought you were never going to rise.”

  Ethan yelped at the voice when he knew he wasn’t dreaming and someone was near. He fell out of an unknown bed and cursed as his naked backside felt the cold of uncaring stone. The cold gave the needed jolt as he jumped behind the nearest obstruction which turned out to be a small mountain of boxes. Ethan then stuck his head out to glimpse at the uninvited intruder and likely burn off his eyebrows for entering without permission.

  The room was eerily empty. Ethan poked his head out more too finally realize more of his surroundings. The iron door was shut with a thick iron bar slid over into a locked position in the wall. On the calm grey wall was a full length mirror opposite the one with the light switch. A lifeless fireplace was cold and hadn’t seen use in decades at least. An open door leading to a bathroom with a light still on added to the glow coming from the ceiling fan slowly circling overhead. The whole wall with the bathroom door was clean granite. There were two electrical outlets, one side showing a bare stone work desk with a metal seat and the other had a stand complete with a brand new flat-screen and DVR with a remote beneath. To the western wall were shelves rising twelve feet to a stone ceiling. All around the open faced stone shelves were more runes. Behind, to the south, was a bare bed with a dry water stain from absorbing moisture from his lazy bath he faintly remembered. Beside the bed was a nightstand and next to it was the most exquisite wardrobe cabinet and dresser combination. It stood nearly as tall as the room and the front doors that were shut depicted a roguishly handsome face delicately drawn with gold filigree over glossy mahogany. The handles were creatively used for luminous blue eyes.

  Then the blue eyes blinked.

  “Holy hell!” Ethan was so surprised he tripped backwards and fell into his boxes that didn’t give and corners stabbed him in the back. The gold lined face changed and smiled.

  “It seems all the talk of you yesterday was true. Here, handsome, try this on.” The double doors parted and out shot a man’s green robe right to Ethan’s feet, which he grabbed immediately. By the time the doors shut Ethan was modestly covering his front. “Now don’t you look scrumptious!”

  “Who or what are you?”

  “Ah.” The cabinet said and closed his handle-eyes. “Our introduction is needed. I would have greeted you when you first entered your new room, Ethan, but you were dead on your feet and went straight to bed after a steamy bath. I didn’t wish to wake you, but Storm-shadow will be here for you soon.

  “I” the cabinet said with a dramatic flourish. “am Dressor, but everyone calls me Dress. A very long time ago I invented the dresser as I worked for Order. For my contribution over ten thousand years ago Fate gave me the gift I wanted and I became Order’s most amazing seamstress. I make or alter everyone’s clothes and am used to send messages to whomever asks kindly. And the perks of my work just keep coming. All night I got to stare at that juicy backside.” Dress winked. “Oh, I’m just teasing you. I looked away and gave you privacy till I was asked to rouse you.”

  “But what… how?” Ethan fumbled to tie sash secure around his waist.

  “I’m connected to every room in every House all at the same time. You seemed to have missed me in Kiroq’s room, but I listened to you speak in the prince’s.”

  “Kind of like Cook?” he asked, trying to focus on not being embarrassed further.

  “Good analogy… Yes, I guess you can say that, but unlike her, I’m in every bedroom in Order throughout the world. That Wisp can only feed one House while her sisters work at others… I know you’re disturbed about me, but unlike others, if you ever need to speak in confidence, it’ll go no further. I’m like everyone’s mental therapist, keeping all sane. None other than Fate or Spirit King can make me talk. Not Odin, Celestia or any being can make me spill someone’s secrets. I personally protect your room from others when you sleep and also serve to wake others up. I overheard you earlier with Tattoo and the others you were brought from America. I know your biological clock is off, but in a week or two you’ll get used to it.” Dress smiled knowingly. “We will have more time to speak later. Go hop in the shower. The sun’s already up. Storm will be arriving in ten minutes. Oh and there is a wall closet Floa helped me stock with towels and washcloths. This time don’t traipse wet and naked unless you want me excited.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind, but fist, is it possible to mov
e you over a bit so you don’t stare at me in bed. I prefer sleeping nude.”

  For an answer Dress suddenly hopped loudly over and angled slightly in the corner. “Will that make you more comfortable? I cannot see the bed, Spoilsport.”

  “Thank you, Dress. It is just really embarrassing.”

  This made Dress snort with laughter. “I’m teasing you, Ethan. Normally suites in the castle have a recess I can fit into so everyone can have privacy and I don’t need to hear all the moaning, grunting and screaming of our warriors getting it on. I’m glad most Nymphs though take their pleasures outside… back to what I was saying, most have a place for me when I’m not needed. Only this room has been neglected because the infamous Celestia never takes on an apprentice. The last one was over eight hundred years ago. From what I’ve witnessed in my time, she’s taught only five… well you now make six. I’ve already told Tattoo and he’ll have it corrected by this afternoon. Oh, and don’t take your shoddy clothes. I won’t permit it, especially since Blake will be training you. You’ll need something appropriate… maybe a little padding armor would help. Go then, eight minutes.”

  Ethan sighed, looked out at the bright window and stepped inside to take a quick shower and towel off. He wrapped the towel around his waist and held the robe over an arm while stepping out. “Dress, what do I do with this? Where do I return this to get cleaned?”

  “Well that was quick, but you had a shower not five hours prior so you’re good enough.” Dress commented before answering. “Laundry, that’s my department. Just throw it in as is, Ethan, but first…” Dress’s face parted as the door opened and out shot out folded blue jeans, a leather belt with a simple buckle, a pair of blue boxers and a grayish black long sleeve shirt. With the dark interior open came “Throw it in.”

  The robe vanished and the door shut. As he picked up the neatly folded apparel he said “Wait, these are my boxers!”

  “Well I won’t let you wear someone else’s undergarments. That’s gross. When Floa was sent to collect you a shirt I had her toss that set in me. I repaired all the damage and problems of the fabric and customized it some to not be inflexible or in need of immediate repair. The belt though is a leftover gift from me from one of our fallen warriors a decade ago. Until I know every measurement of your body I cannot custom make you anything. I don’t want our secret weapon to be seen in anything but the best. Hurry and change now.”

  It took just a minute to slide everything on in the bathroom, but the belt took a little longer. The shirt was tucked in the pants and as he stepped out Dress exclaimed “You look Faaabulous! I am a good at restoring clothes and bringing beauty to whomever wears my designs. Now go put your shoes on and head outside… Wait, do I have your permission to ask one of the workers to give me all your clothes?”

  “No, I don’t like people touching my things. I’ll do it after Blake is done with me. May I ask though if you’ll make sure no one else digs through my boxes? Shut them in like you closed and locked the door when I was too tired to do so.”

  “No one will steal or snoop, but if they do I promise to detain them.”

  “Thanks.” He said and jumped into his sneakers, found his box of toiletries and quickly applied a stick of deodorant, but as he slid the bar back and glanced over a shoulder he noticed the book Tattoo loaned and wondered how it survived, but he had the feeling it would be needed so he picked it up and hurried downstairs.

  Aside from the crackling of the forge downstairs Ethan noticed everything as he had left it except for the Gladius he worked on last night hung on a rack. He smiled and remembered his place and made way for the door.

  Waiting just outside in the morning light was a large silhouette which became Storm-shadow. “I see you made a successful venture to learn from the Forgemaster herself. Learn much?”

  “Yep, but why wasn’t I warned about what I would be walking into?” Ethan poked his new companion on the grey star-like patch of hair that contrasted with the rest of his sleek ebony coat.

  The answer was direct and couldn’t be more true. “It wouldn’t have helped. She would have burned anyone else. Your ignorance is a blessing and seems your clumsy yet heartfelt and sincere clumsiness had made you easy to like. Celestia chose you for a reason we all could see. Be proud that she is teaching you. Many would rush into a nest of dragons unarmed for a chance to be her student, but she doesn’t care about acts of heroism or strength. No Phoenix can be manipulated or told what to do. They are without a doubt the most stubborn yet strongest beings in Order. Not even a dragon would challenge a Phoenix alone. Even Jormon fears her. Believe me when I say Celestia has no equal.”

  “You don’t need to remind me.” Ethan revealed his scabbed and raw hands. “Her strength is beyond mine for sure. She wielded a hammer for hours that did this to me in one and Celestia’s wing… arm or whatever, never got tired or weakened. And I do feel honored and grateful I didn’t wet myself.”

  “Your hands will heal and harden in time. This will be good, especially for training with Blake. He will train you while Celestia makes you stronger and we get more of her most vital creations. Come, we fly back for breakfast.”

  “Alright, but this time can we eat closer to the gate? I’m not comfortable near all the leaders and being center of attention.” Ethan hoped for the best.

  “If that is your wish.”

  He sighed and quickly mounted after stuffing the book in the saddle pack as he found yesterday. “By the way, why is it so bright this early?”

  “Sunrise was around four. You’re no longer near the equator. Days and nights aren’t as predictable as you’re familiar with.

  Not really an early morning person, Ethan looked into the main hall and groaned inwardly as everyone he met seemed bright eyed and bushytailed. He didn’t even get eight hours sleep at all back in the States and worse yet he had a mild hangover from Odin’s concoction and the sweet wine at dinner, but he didn’t complain. Never does any good. Storm-shadow led his partner over to an empty table, but along the way Ethan went to a wash area where some supernatural children who were being punished for some broken rule were cleaning dishes. A small Naga boy gave Ethan a glass and let him use the clean water to fill it for a much needed drink to rid himself of a headache.

  They soon sat together at the table and Ethan cracked open the book, starting with the rules that govern this place. It was written in sections, but the first were the general unbreakable laws followed by the species individual laws. He immersed himself to block out the noise. Storm-shadow took it upon himself to politely tell any and all welcoming persons that his human was busy learning the rules. Already though the Pegasai was approached by the spreading news of Ethan’s apprenticeship with Celestia.

  “Yes, she has taken him under her tutelage.” He again told a group of highly impressed Centaur who wished to commune with the Elemental and learn his secret. “I’m sorry, but Ethan is familiarizing himself with our ways. Have you forgotten he has not even been here for a day? Please inform others that for the next few days that until he assimilates to our ways, that he is not to be disturbed.” He had to say this several times, but the point did eventually spread.

  “Hey cutie, put the book down.” Glowed Cook as she settled her glowing green form right between the pages. Ethan mumbled an apology and did as she asked when finally getting his attention. “Good. So what shall it be for breakfast?” Her eye looked him up and down.

  “I’m hungry, Cook. Could I have some apple-cinnamon oatmeal, three eggs and two slices of unbuttered bread?” he sat the book aside.

  The wisp bobbed up and down. “What kind of bread? Toasted or untoasted? And the eggs, how would you like them? And what would you like to drink?”

  “Oh, uh. I like my bread to be wheat and lightly toasted and scramble the eggs please. And strong black coffee. No sugar or cream.”

  “Coming right up!” She said cheerfully and then appeared the instant meal.

  It all was a little much in quantity, but then agai
n everyone ate a fair in excess for the sole reason that their bodies required it. Not one person other than himself had as much extra padding. Ethan knew he was slightly overweight, but not morbidly so. Here though he felt like a blimp. He ate and told Cook how perfect everything was. She glowed cheerfully and he couldn’t lie. Last night wasn’t a fluke, the breakfast was just as memorable as the spaghetti dinner. The oatmeal had chunks of steaming apples with both sweet and tangy flavors mixed in with the meal. The eggs were fluffy and golden like clouds and the bread was just the way he liked it. Before he knew it all had disappeared and the freshly squeezed and hot coffee washed it all down. Storm-shadow hadn’t finished munching on a few sugar cubes and carrots so Ethan went back to the dog-eared page he left off on and learned more about Naga law before starting on Gargoyles and what not to do. The book was for humans and Ethan found it to be enlightening.

  “Ethan, let us go find Blake.” Storm-shadow said after nudging his shoulder.

  With the book under his arm and dirty plates in hand Ethan deposited the dishes in another hole in the wall and hurried towards the entrance.

  Waiting by the drawbridge sat Blake in long black pants and the closer they got, Ethan realized the Naga was meditating. Blake’s legs were crossed, his long dark brown-green tail wrapped around him, eyes closed, hands laying on knees with palms facing up. Two ebony sheathed katanas and a leather sheathed broadsword lay beside him. Ethan asked privately “Storm-shadow, is Blake sunning himself like other lizards?”

  “No, Nagai are warm-blooded. Blake, like most Naga warriors, are highly aggressive and they meditate to focus that aggression in a productive way. I’ve known my friend for centuries and his methods. He will not respond to us till he comes out of the mental training… unless threatened. Never attack a meditating Naga. You’ll die. Their kind are the fastest to strike. For brief moments, they can even outrun my kind. That is plenty of time to kill.”

  “Got it. Don’t poke the viper.”

  “Naga have no venom.” Storm-shadow said, misunderstanding the metaphor.

  “Never mind. So what do you want to do till he wakes?”

  “Best you continue reading. Knowing Blake, he’ll wake at eight to start.”

  Ethan was glad for the suggestion and sat near the oblivious Naga, just out of reach should any of those swords be unsheathed. Storm-shadow patiently waited on the stone section just outside the bridge trimming the grass. The book filled many of Ethan questions and answered concerns he’d been afraid to ask and the progress was steady. Nymphs had by far the fewest laws. Humans though were the only kind who were divided into the magic casters and specialists. Ethan knew he was a specialist, like Tattoo while Kira and other Witches and Wizards were also known as Casters. Amazon’s weren’t considered entirely human, which wasn’t a stretch. He also learned it was rare and difficult for Specialists to learn and practice casting and were no replacement for a born Caster. It explained why Odin hinted his prowess in spells were weak. Pages flew and Ethan immersed himself.

  Blake’s honed body told him it was time and his meditative state melted. Speckled brown and golden eyes opened to an invigorating sunrise before sensing a calm pair of presences. “Ah, you are already here Ethan. Good morning, Storm.” The glossy scaled Naga stood to his natural six and a half feet in a smooth movement. “Waiting long?”

  “Hello, Old Friend.” The Pegesai said. “Hour and a half at most.”

  The Naga’s opaque claw scratched a scale at the other elbow. “On my way to my nest I saw Celestia in the middle of the night. She rarely leaves her dwelling and it’s said Ethan here is her apprentice?”

  “That is correct.”

  “I smell blood.” Blake’s nose-less nostrils inhaled the air and a flat, pink, forked tongue shot out for a moment.

  “Probably me.” Ethan showed his hand. “Did that last night with Celestia.”

  “Very well.” The Naga sighed deeply as his tail lay flat on the ground. “Ethan, we will begin your training immediately with a five mile run around the castle. Take this for now.” Blake handed over his broadsword. “Slide the baldric over your head and tighten the strap till it feels comfortable. The weight will add another element to the run. It will build strength while the run enhances endurance… Take off your shoes as well. Your feet must harden too.”

  “But what if I cut my foot on a stone or debris? I won’t be worth anything.”

  “You will heal in time.” Blake said uncaringly. “Get to it!”

  Ethan kicked off his shoes and socks before struggling to fit the sword’s strap over his chest. When it was clear he didn’t have a clue, Blake stepped forward and used his scaly hands to properly strap it on.

  “I will wait here and watch over your belongings.”

  “We will return soon, Storm.” Blake said before telling his new student to start running down a dirt path that stayed just outside Jormungandr’s river-moat. Blake matched Ethan’s fast pace while sliding a katana into position on either hip. The Naga could see the Elemental had potential and a drive to get stronger though he rarely ran anywhere frequently. After just two minutes sweat started forming. “Pace yourself or you’ll collapse.” Blake lectured calmly while his hard reptilian feet gouged the path many use. “Learn to breath in through your nose and out your mouth. It will help your from sucking air and collapsing… That’s it.”

  After traveling a mile, Ethan stopped and bent over his knees, trying not to vomit while gasping. Blake silently watched the struggle, but saw the food remain down before his student started a jog which was more reasonable. Each step became more labored than the last and the heavy sword strapped to his back grew heavier. It was awkward, it bouncing around, but it made it that much harder. Ethan didn’t want to be seen as lazy anymore, but as he rounded the third corner his soft feet found a rock that inevitably brought his earlier prophecy to light and he stumbled from the shot of pain, landing face first in Scottish soil. Blake still remained a silent observer and the unsettling feeling of being watched forced Ethan to suck up the pain and continue on.

  Ethan collapsed as soon as they arrived back at the front of the castle where Storm-shadow loyally waited. “Return my sword while you recover.” The Naga said. “Jormun’s water is clean. Go wash the dirt from your foot.”

  “May I ask you accompany me down there?”

  “Why?” Blake asked with skepticism.

  Ethan looked embarrassed. “Actually, it’s embarrassing, but I’m afraid of deep water… drowning actually.”

  The Naga nodded as if it made since. “A Fire Elemental afraid of water? Very well, I can understand a weakness like that.”

  The sheathe was all too eager to get off the completely soaked shirt and returned. Ethan though walked down the bank that led to the clear water where the World Snake’s body undulated beneath its surface. Ethan saw Jormun’s head and realized the colossal snake was a good half mile in length. Those eerie eyes followed Ethan and Blake down to the water and watched as he very cautiously sat his throbbing foot in to clean it. The grass was lush and mildly wet from lingering dew and Blake stayed close to keep a close eye on his frightened student, but didn’t know the real reason Ethan was terrified of water and he would keep it secret. Carefully, after the dirt came from the shallow wound and blood ran clean did Ethan remove his drenched shirt and soak it in the water to remove the sweat and as he put it back on it cooled him off fast. “Thank you for letting me use your water, Jormun!”

  Jormungandr released a grunt before his head sunk below the clear water.

  Back up safely on the road Ethan was allowed to put his shoes back on and followed Blake down the road which worked out growing leg cramps. The teacher then took another path that led towards one of the lakes. The closer they got the clearer a distinct sound became.

  Metal struck metal or wood cracked wood while battle cries roared. Soon Ethan found himself gawking at a training area he hadn’t seen yesterday. All around the lake were warriors either sparring or working out
in the open as if it were a gym. It was just a dozen fighters currently, but they sure made some noise and exchanged blows honed through years of rigorous training. The Naga walked soon on level concrete ground that led to an overhang pavilion that protected the training equipment and gave Ethan a pair of ankle and wrist weights set at five pounds and then handed over a long oak staff with runes etched into the grain.

  “The fastest method to learn how to fight is by experience.” Blake said and grabbed an almost identical staff after laying down his three deadly weapons. “For ten minutes you will defend against my attacks and we’ll exchange roles. The hardest terrain to fight in is water, but since it is your weakness it’ll have to be sand. Come.” A minute later they stood in a circular arena of twenty feet of sugar sand, sand Ethan was familiar with from Florida.

  Without warning or hesitation Blake attacked with an overhead strike. Somehow Ethan managed to grasp the staff in both hands before receiving a splitting concussion. It was a successful block, but the blow was so heavy he yelped and dropped it. “Your grip was too loose.” The master chastised while flicking the dropped staff back into the air with a flick of his own. Ethan grabbed it and as soon as he did a slap to his thigh made him yelp and curse. “Just because you are an Elemental doesn’t mean your power will always save you. Never drop your weapon no matter how much pain you are in. A demon would instantly take advantage of such weakness and consume your soul.” The next strike was slow and parried and Ethan didn’t see the hit from where his thigh throbbed. Blake was going easy, allowing him to see the attacks and could go much faster. “Without your power you are dead. A weapon is your life. Treasure it above all things or death will find you again. This time permanently.” Ethan was knocked back by a quick blow to the sternum. “Defend! Your life is the ultimate treasure. If it is squandered you die. Do not count on another chance. None in Order’s history has ever been revived like you. Our service in death remains just that.” Blake came again with a powerful overhead strike. “Good, you didn’t drop it this time.”

  “But it stings like hell! Why am I wearing weights?” Ethan huffed, barely maintaining balance.

  “To slow you down so you have to force a reaction, not do it easily. Your body will adapt swiftly. Once a week I will let you rest and recover, but I will not give permission to remove those weights except to bathe. From this day, every day, you will wear them. Understand?”

  Ethan missed the hit and felt it at his shin, right above the ankle-weights. “Fun fun!” he said sarcastically after cursing under his breath.

  A minute later his arms ached and his legs felt like rubber. Numbness in his hands barely held the staff. After a second drop he was walloped twice, one in the knee and the other across the cheek. Ethan so wanted to quit immediately, but compared to the others fulfilling their one hour mandatory daily exercise he was glad Blake was his teacher for there were brutal, often bloody lessons learned.

  At the ten minute mark Ethan couldn’t even lift his arms. Blake called for a break and left Ethan sitting in the sand to go retrieve two bottles of water refilled from the lake. He handed it down and Ethan chugged the cool liquid down before asking “Where’s the bathroom?”

  Blake pointed to the trees while he wiped water from brownish lips. “The trees. Relieve yourself on their roots. Follow the path and find one of the sinks to wash your hands afterwards. If you must defecate, find a hole the Nymphs made so the trees feed well. If full, find another.”

  “Thanks for the tip. You forgot to tell me to avoid the triple leaves of poison ivy.” Blake chuckled at that.

  Ten minutes later Ethan returned refreshed, sore and stiff at the same time. Blake rose from the sand and tossed the staff over. “This time you attack.”

  Just as it was done to him, Ethan struck with an overhead strike. Blake deflected it with a single hand as if swatting away a fly. Ethan spun towards the opening, bringing the other end into a thrust which was again deflected. “Impressive.” Came mild praise. “I thought you lacked combat training.” Unable to retort, more strikes flew, all either missed or were turned aside. “Breathe how I told you, Ethan. In through the nose. Out the mouth.” The knowledge helped, but not long as pain and exhaustion made him fall on his knees. “Three minutes you say, Storm?” The stallion watching nodded. “I estimated two twenty. Forty more is good. Means you might have a knack that’s been laying dormant.” Those slit eyes focused on the kneeling student. “Up now, I could have taken your head six hundred and thirty four times already. For an overweight novice human that is good.”

  A grow rumbled in Ethan’s chest and his anger brought on by pain filled him with strength. “Rhaaa!” the roar left his voice and without the staff he lunged at the Naga, grabbed his shoulder and with the burst of adrenaline picked up the reptile master over his head and threw him.

  Blake, caught by surprise was launched and showing catlike reflexes, spun midair, landed on his feet and lunged at the enraged Ethan with the explosive speed only a Naga possesses. There was not time to see let alone duck the staff blow to the back of Ethan’s skull which dropped him heavily onto the sand and was unconscious before falling.

  The Naga coldly held his staff ready in a crouched position while his long tail whipped dangerously around. In a remarkably calm voice that didn’t look away from Ethan limp form he asked “Storm, what in all of Spirit World was that? Ethan just picked me up and threw me fifteen feet at least. I weigh close to four hundred pounds. I doubted even refreshed he could have done that.”

  Storm-shadow was already on his hooves. “I don’t know what just happened. Did you hear that growl? Humans cannot growl. Blake, your shoulder, it’s burned and your left pants leg is smoldering!”

  Sure enough his shoulder was blackened by a human handprint and his calf muscle smoked, but wouldn’t catch aflame.

  “Calm yourselves.” Came a voice which turned out to be Kiroq. The Gargoyle spread his wings and glided down off the roof above the training equipment and into the arena and put one clawed finger to Ethan’s neck. “He lives and the beat of his heart has slowed.” The dark eyed general turned back around to see the Naga and stallion standing together rigidly. “I’m here to oversee Ethan’s training. Yesterday he growled at me too and he explained it was a childhood habit he thought he shed long ago. It worried me and my sons. He may seem calm, but this human has a suppressed rage likely equal to my kind. That last attack only proved it. He seems to hate his current attributes and getting reminded over and over of his faults. I wondered why he was a Fire Elemental for they are known to be the embodiment of human rage. Ethan hides it well, but his rage is great when released. It seems I must send my kind to watch over him. He is an untrained Berserker. If he loses control, many might die. This is troubling.”

  “Maybe not, General. And I do not believe he is a true Berserker. That was… something else.” Blake said thoughtfully as he approached and rolled Ethan on his back.

  “What are you thinking?” The five foot tall Gargoyle said.

  The Naga sat on his heels, staring at the human. “His moment of rage revealed that although he was already tired he could actually pick me over his head and throw me. If he continues to suppress that rage it will only slow his progress and get himself killed if he cannot find it when needed. I want to bring it out. My own kind also has such natural aggression, like all creatures with the will to survive. If he learns to focus that raw anger like my kind, he will grow exceptionally more dangerous. Berserkers do not show the level of focus he does.”

  “You wish to make him realize his anger? You were charred just from his touch and still you want to release someone so dangerous?” Kiroq wondered.

  “Yes. The wound will heal by tomorrow. I would rather he learn control here with us that look out for his well being rather than in the heat of battle he goes berserk. An uncontrolled fire-thrower would be too devastating, but may I ask for assistance from your kind? If my idea should fail, none other than the Gargoyles can get near enough to knock him
out.”

  “That will be my condition to this plan. I will not permit sparring without one of my strongest warriors present. Physical training should be allowed.”

  “We are agreed then. I would like to get started as soon as he wakes.”

  Kiroq responded by throwing his head back and opening his short muzzle to howl for off duty Gargoyles. Three answered the summons and flew straight for their group. The general explained the situation and the three agreed with the plan.

  A bucket of water upended over Ethan’s face and he sat up, choking. His eyes blinked and found Blake smiling with a mouthful of short, sharp teeth. Pain returned in full and the worst was a lump on the back of his head. “What happened? Where… Blake what happened? Your shoulder is… Wait, I did that didn’t I?” The Naga nodded seriously. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

  “No apologies. It was enlightening. While you were unconscious we came up with a plan.”

  Ethan listened calmly to everyone, especially Kiroq, but after it ended he asked “So you want to make me angry?... So I’m like the Hulk. Great.”

  “Precisely. Yes I’ve seen all the movies.” Blake smirked. “You must learn to use this anger instantly, not hide it behind a mental wall. Rise, we start now.”

  “Not much for small talk are you? Fiiine.” He grunted and stood on wobbly legs. The four gargoyles spread around the sand ring.

  Blake’s reptilian features hardened. “Come at me. You cannot even hit a fly you’re so lazy. No wonder you are so clumsy. That gut would trip anyone. No wonder you died so pitifully and you couldn’t even do that right.”

  Though Ethan knew Blake was taunting for a reason it didn’t make it any easier. His chest began rumbling into a throaty growl before the rage took over and this time Blake was prepared. Blake could feel the power of each strike double over their first session. Despite the power of each blow, the expert Naga deflected everything and stayed always out of reach from large hands.

  With the increase of the rage came the side effect of tiring far faster. When it disappeared he collapsed to his knees again.

  Kiroq gave Blake the nod of approval that the idea had merit.

  The Naga wasn’t done and taunted more and more which worked every time. Somehow Ethan found new deposits of strength which rose to renew the lesson.

  There came a loud ringing sound and only Ethan collapsed. “Lunch time?”

  “Correct.” Storm-shadow answered. “Ethan you need to wash up. You’re bleeding, sweaty and swollen. I will show you to the showers.

  “After lunch, meet me immediately where we did this morning.” Blake ordered.

  “Yes, Sir.” Ethan replied tiredly while dragging his aching body away.

  Outside stalls appeared ten minutes away and were mostly occupied. Creatures occupied most and washed off quickly. Ethan found an empty one and entered, glad the wooden walls were boarded. He stood under cool water and could see blood, his own, washing down the drain with dirt. He took his clothes off and the water stung his throbbing face yet helped.

  Ethan felt eyes on him and looked left to find no one, but then he yelped as a beautiful Nymph had her arms over the privacy stall while her eyes openly roamed. Thankfully the rest of her naked body was hidden. She had a private smile humorously twitching on full red lips in contrast to her alabaster skin. Her forest green hair was wet and was full of curls and made her slightly pointed ears poke out more prominently. “For an Elemental you sure don’t fail to impress.” Her provocative eyes hinted below the waist. “I like hairy chested males… Care for a good romp after lunch? It’ll feel much better than getting throttled by Blake. Mind doing it in the shower with me? It’s all the fire protection I’ll need.”

  Ethan was too embarrassed to answer so he quickly pulled on his boxers, pants, shirt and shoes while wet and exited in haste. His cheeks were red, especially since she watched him go away quickly. In his hands he put the weights back on. The Nymph laughed as said “Maybe next time then?!”

  “What was that about?” Storm-shadow asked.

  “Don’t want to discuss it.” Thankfully the stallion let the matter drop.

  They walked back to the castle, especially since Ethan was too tired and sore to climb up.

  Lunch was just as amazing and filling. Even with a sore jaw he ate quickly. And just as he was told to do, Ethan arrived to find Blake under the shade of a nearby tree. “So what new tortures do you have for me this time?”

  Blake grinned and shook his head. “Nothing so strenuous or physical till after breakfast tomorrow. Come. Sit before me like this.” He complied stiffly from pain. It was the same meditative arrangement saw from morning. “For the next hour and a half you will focus your mind inwards. I will help guide you to finding balance. Right now you have none. Your rage leaves you blind to clarity and focus needed to attain balance and think critically. Neither your mind or body are even remotely trained. Tomorrow will be harder, but after lunch every day we will focus like this until I feel you are ready to set out on your own.

  “Now close your eyes and listen. Breathe slowly until your exhaustion and pain diminish…” Ethan listened and several times Blake had to wake him because he fell asleep rather than finding a mental center.

  Then before he knew it Blake stated “That is time. It has been six hours under my teaching. Go home and rest. Sleep would be prudent. I’ll also have someone send ointments for your wounds. Until tomorrow.”

  “How did I do?”

  “Well enough at this point. I have other duties. Farewell. Same to you, Old Friend.” The Naga left.

  Storm-shadow nodded. “Ethan, I think you should ride on my back. I will show you the best paths to Celestia’s and the castle so you don’t overly rely on me. You still need to settle in and I’ll wait for you tonight for dinner.”

  Too tired to argue, Ethan managed to mount. Instead of flying, Storm-shadow walked and gestured to all the trails Ethan would need and where they led.

  An hour later Ethan was dropped off and collapsed in his bed after telling Dress, in his new space, when to wake him in two hours.