Stealing Sorcery

by Andrew Rowe

  She raised an eyebrow. Harvesters were creatures native to other planes that had a reputation for being horrendously dangerous. She had seen Taelien perform some impressive feats in combat, but facing a Harvester seemed a bit implausible, even for him.

  Was that in the Paths of Ascension?

  Months before, Taelien had supposedly gone to a place called the Paths of Ascension in the city of Orlyn. The Paths were rumored to be a way to ascend to godhood, but Taelien had learned that they were actually some sort of ancient vault left behind by the Xixian Empire. After he had traversed the depths of the Paths, he had confronted one of the city’s false gods along with a group of allies.

  The swordsman had shared the broad strokes of his story with Velas and Landen, but neither he nor Lydia – the paladin of Sytira that had encouraged him and Landen to come to Velthryn – had been willing to share the details of what had happened to Taelien while he was on the Paths. He had definitely found some treasure in there – Velas had seen some of it, including the sword – but he had also been severely injured while exploring the depths.

  Velas suspected that they were keeping the details private so that they could monopolize any remaining treasure inside the Paths. Lydia is probably just waiting for Taelien to earn his paladin status, and then she can take him on as a partner and go back to Orlyn.

  Not that Taelien needs any more treasure. “Why bother figuring out new tricks with a mundane sword when you have the Sae’kes? Pretty sure that thing would be more useful, even against a Harvester.”

  He turned his head away from Velas. “I wish it was that simple.”

  With surprising intensity, Taelien spun back around to face her, closing his eyes and drawing the Sae’kes from its scabbard. She had seen the blade before – but he never drew it without purpose.

  The blade shined like the purest of silver, with the seven runes upon the legendary blade representing each of the gods of the Tae’os Pantheon. Of the seven runes, five of them blazed with brilliant azure light.

  She understood the problem immediately.

  “You can’t control it.”

  Taelien nodded.

  “Nearly my entire life, I’ve trained to use this weapon. Day after day, year after year.” He opened his eyes to gaze at the surface of the blade with a longing expression. “No amount of willpower, of focus, or training has proven sufficient.”

  She shrugged. “So try harder.”

  He laughed, turning to the side and swinging the blade in place. An note carried through the wind as the blade parted the air, as if the weapon mirrored the swordsman’s laughter.

  The two sounds made her heart race in a way she had not anticipated.

  “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he said, returning the weapon to its metal-lined scabbard.

  “You talking to me or the sword?” She teased, folding her arms.

  “Both.” He turned back to face her. “Anyway, I haven’t given up. I still train with the Sae’kes every day, and I won’t stop until I’m ready to use it. But even then, it won’t be the right weapon for every situation.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “How so? If it was good enough for the god of swords...”

  “It’s too destructive. Even with all seven runes lit, I doubt I’ll have enough control to render it non-lethal.”

  “Ah.” The Paladins of Tae’os placed the preservation of life as one of their highest values. Velas considered the idea of sparing her enemies nonsensical, but like Taelien, she had learned to say the right words to serve her goals.

  Unlike Taelien, she had learned to be convincing about it.

  “So, I take it you couldn’t sleep either?” Taelien asked.

  Trying to change the subject? Alright, fair enough.

  “Yeah, I’m nervous about the tests. I take it you’re feeling the same?”

  He nodded. “I wish we had more of an idea about what we’re up against.”

  She shrugged, and then stretched her left shoulder again, grimacing at the stiffness in her muscles. “Shouldn’t be too complicated. There are only so many tests they could come up with. You heard anything from Red? You’re always following her around like a duckling.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I’m not a duck.”

  Didn’t deny following her around, though, Velas noted in wry victory.

  “And no, Lydia never took the test,” he added. “And even if she did, she wouldn’t help me cheat.”

  Velas waved a hand dismissively. “Gathering information is hardly cheating. These paladins look all bright and shiny, but Lydia was a spy for years, wasn’t she? Her and half the Eratar branch.”

  Each of the Paladins of Tae’os was assigned to a specific branch dedicated to a certain deity. Typically, each branch had different responsibilities. The Paladins of Eratar – the god of travel – were reputed to be the branch dealing with espionage, information gathering, and similar activities. Publicly, they served as scouts, advisors to nobles, and other functions that could easily cover their more clandestine activities.

  Teasing aside, Velas had nothing but respect for Lydia’s years of successful infiltration into Orlyn’s government. Her successes were worthy of praise, even if Taelien did idolize the girl a little more than Velas considered healthy. She wasn’t even any older than they were.

  “Well, if you want to end up in the Eratar branch, they’d probably approve. But I doubt the rest of the orders would be quite so tolerant. Our instructions were explicit.”

  “Sometimes what someone says and what they mean are different things.” Velas rubbed her shoulder. “But in this case, I suppose you’re probably right.”

  “So, what were you coming out here for? Not just to spy on me, I assume.”

  “No that was just a pleasant surprise. I was planning to warm up on some sword work until Landen arrived. Oh, and when you arrived about two hours later.”

  “I prefer to do most of my training at night, right before they close up the armory.”

  “Uh-huh. When no one else is around to verify it.”

  “When it’s cool enough to wear a suit of armor without feeling like I’m courting death.”

  She took a breath, bending down to stretch her legs. “All right, fair argument. It’s still pretty cool right now, though. Up for a match?”

  “The armory is locked up at this hour. We wouldn’t be able to get armor or training weapons.”

  “I know.” Velas drew her long sword from her hip, giving Taelien a wink. “That’s why I’m excited.”

  Taelien folded his arms. “I shouldn’t have to tell you how dangerous that would be.”

  “You can’t tell me you never trained with real blades when you were working with the Thornguard.”

  He frowned. “This is different. You’re not—”

  “I spent four years in the Queensguard of Orlyn. The actual Queensguard, not like your little pre-Thornguard training group. You don’t think I can keep up with you?”

  The swordsman sighed. “I don’t have any ordinary weapons on me.”

  “Use the Sae’kes, then. I’d love to see what it’s like fighting against that thing.”

  Her pulse quickened as she pictured having to snake her own sword around his to prevent the artifact from tearing her weapon apart.

  Please.

  He reluctantly drew the red-bladed sword. Her eyes continued to focus on the winged hilt of the Sae’kes at his side.

  “I’ll spar with you, but I’m not going to use an unfair advantage.” He moved to the back of the wooden platform, taking the Teris-Low Blade form, a defensive stance. His feet weren’t aligned properly, showing how rarely he used that particular form.

  “Ready?” He asked.

  “Let’s find out.”

  Velas raised her blade and charged. If he wasn’t going to use the Sae’kes, she’d have to find another way to make some fun.

  Her sword flashed diagonally downward from a high stance, aiming for his shoulder.

  The parry she expected
came, and Velas stepped back for another strike – only to find her blade stuck to his.

  By the time she realized what had happened, Taelien was already stepping to her right and shoving forward on his weapon. Velas stumbled back, her left foot brushing the edge of the platform, letting out a hiss as she realized he was trying to push her off the platform.

  She let go of the hilt of her sword, stepping left and sweeping her foot to try to hook his right knee. He stepped back, taking the kick in the front of the leg and wincing.

  Then he tossed the two connected blades aside, right off the platform.

  Velas grinned.

  “Thought you said you weren’t going to use any unfair advantages. Metal sorcery? Really?”

  “Using my own personal skills is hardly unfair.”

  She circled around to his right, and Taelien stepped back, raising his arms into a typical blocking position near his face. His expression was calm, his stance cleaner than it had been with the Teris Low-Blade stance. She had sparred with him dozens of times before, and she knew he preferred grappling to striking when unarmed. This was unsurprising, given his background with the Thornguard, who wore heavy armor and trained for fighting other people in heavy armor.

  Traditional Valerian dueling had bored Velas as she came into her adolescence, so she hired tutors. When she had exhausted the limits of their talents, she traveled to Orlyn, trained with the Queensguard and fought in the arena. When she had been dismissed from the Queensguard, it had been almost a relief – she had learned all she could from the meager competition in Orlyn.

  Herod had proven a competent sword instructor, and Orin Dyr was an excellent unarmed combat teacher. Dyr was a lieutenant colonel for the Paladins of Koranir, the God of Strength. The former Queensguard relished the opportunity to learn from his experience – and to show off what she had picked up.

  “Suppose I’ll do the same, then.”

  She opened with a half-hearted jump kick toward his face, which he brushed aside just as she had expected. As she landed, she ducked his follow-through punch and kicked at his left knee. As he backed away, avoiding the kick entirely, she grinned and took a step back.

  He stepped back as well, quirking an eyebrow.

  She charged forward, jumping again – higher this time. And she landed on top of his shoulders.

  Velas hopped down before he could react, kicking backwards as she descended and hitting him square in the back. The swordsman staggered, spinning around just in time for Velas’ fist to catch him in the gut. Her knuckles stung from the impact.

  Gods, it’s like punching a breastplate. Stone sorcery, maybe?

  Taelien reeled back from the strike, moving his left hand to cover his stomach.

  A mistake.

  She had already hit that spot once.

  Instead, Velas shot a fist out toward his jaw. He grabbed at her hand, but the attack had been a feint, blocking his field of vision while she kicked at his right thigh. The kick knocked him back a step, preventing him from snatching her arm out of the air.

  Taelien let out a low growl, shifting into a sideways stance that she was unfamiliar with. She paused. It looked like an unarmed version of something a duelist might use to keep as little of their body exposed as possible.

  Velas’ grin broadened. That stance isn’t as suited to grappling – maybe he’ll actually try to punch me for a change.

  “Not bad,” he mumbled. He extended his right fist in front of him, taking a deep breath. His eyes caught hers, his growing smirk offering a challenge.

  She was more than happy to oblige.

  He would be ready for a jump this time, so when she rushed forward, she ducked instead.

  Surge.

  A burst of kinetic energy carried her across the platform as she twisted her hips into a punch at his solar plexus. Taelien twisted to the side, causing her fist to brush against his ribs rather than connecting directly, and he slammed his forearm down against her right shoulder.

  Pain surged through her as his arm impacted, but her left arm was already moving, her open palm slapping him across the back.

  Push.

  Essence surged through her hand, sending Taelien skidding across the platform. The swordsman dug his boots into the wood, slowing his movement until he could spin around and reset his stance.

  Taelien used his off-hand to rub at his ribs. “What, precisely, was that?”

  Velas folded her hands in front of her. “Trade secret. Feel like surrendering yet?”

  “Oh, not by any means. Things are just getting interesting.”

  She rushed forward. Taelien broke from his stance and charged to meet her, ducking her first punch and raising his right leg to block her incoming kick.

  Taelien’s palm shot out toward her face and she stepped backward to avoid it. She realized too late that the hand had never been intended to connect – just as a flash of blinding flame manifested in his hand.

  It was gone in an instant, but her vision swam, and his left hand slammed into her shoulder.

  That wasn’t very fair. She gritted her teeth and closed her momentarily useless eyes. Guided by sound, Velas side-stepped an open hand aimed at her ribs and grabbed his arm with both of her hands.

  She heard a telltale gasp of surprise, which was sufficient information for her to pull him forward and bring a knee up toward the general location of his groin. She felt her shin connect with his, indicating that he had managed to raise his own leg to block, and then something caught her under the chin with enough force to separate the pair.

  Velas staggered back, blinking her still-recovering eyes, and seeing Taelien bearing down on her again. Ignoring the pain in her jaw and shoulder, she lowered her stance and braced herself. As Taelien brought his arms around in a hugging motion, she launched a quick jab toward his ribs, which he caught with his left arm. She feigned disappointment, making a second strike that mirrored the first. As expected, he grabbed her right arm as well.

  She hopped upward, kicking both legs out toward his chest.

  Rather than reeling back as she had expected, he grit his teeth and pulled on her arms. She pushed back with her legs, but he somehow maintained his grip, visibly straining from the force she was exerting.

  Enough. She pulled one foot away and then brought it back down against his chest. Push.

  The sorcerous force sent the pair flying apart, Taelien hitting the wooden floor and Velas soaring momentarily skyward before hitting the dirt just outside the platform. She landed in a roll, pushing herself back into a kneeling position near-instantly.

  Whereupon she saw a familiar pair of legs standing in front of her. She looked up with a sheepish grin as Landen reached down to offer her a hand.

  “No helping, I’m not done,” she said breathlessly, still blinking to get the spots out of her vision.

  “I think I am.” By the time her watering eyes focused on Taelien, he was sitting on the platform, fiddling with his right hand. “I hate splinters.”

  There was a hint of disappointment in his tone. Had he wanted to continue the fight as much as she had?

  “Splinters? Try falling on rocks,” she mumbled in complaint, patting the ground beneath her. Sighing, she grabbed at Landen’s offered hand, and he pulled her to her feet. She shook her head, disoriented, both from the state of her eyes and her use of sorcery.

  “So, why are you two trying to murder each other this morning?” Landen reached a hand toward her head, which she almost ducked instinctively, but she managed to still her reflex from years of training. He plucked a leaf out of her hair and handed it to her.

  “Murder is such a strong word.” She brushed the dirt off her pants. “We were only sparring.”

  Taelien approached the pair, cradling his stomach with his left hand. “Velas, as usual, is amending the definition of sparring to her tastes. But it was fun.”

  “Herod would have murdered you if he saw you throwing sorcery around in a practice match like that,” Landen pointed out.


  “We were careful,” Taelien insisted, drawing a bit of surprise from Velas. She hadn’t expected him to defend the potentially dangerous fighting, given how hesitant he seemed to be to engage in it in the first place.

  Then again, he had very deliberately removed both of their swords from the fight immediately. Perhaps the weaponry had been his only real concern.

  “Now that we’re done, you mind letting me in on how you were throwing me around like a five year old?” Taelien asked.

  “A girl has to have her secrets,” Velas said, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

  “It’s motion sorcery,” Landen said, deadpan. “I didn’t see most of your ‘sparring’, but I saw the end of it. That was definitely motion sorcery.”

  She elbowed Landen lightly in the ribs. “Why’d you have to ruin all my fun? I could have kept him guessing for weeks.”

  “That was my first guess anyway,” Taelien said. “I’ve seen someone use it before. Why’d you use it today? I’ve never seen you use sorcery before, although you clearly have practice.”

  You haven’t seen it because I’m usually subtler about it. “You don’t normally use your metal sorcery, so I assumed it wouldn’t be fair. But since you decided to show off that trick, I had to even the field.”

  “Always have another secret to reveal,” she remembered her mentor saying. “Every layer can be used to obfuscate the next.”

  “Well, if you’re both done ruining my secrets, can we get back to the fun part?” She pointed at the two swords that were lying near the other side of the platform, still intertwined by Taelien’s metal sorcery.

  “Dawnfire is up,” Taelien said. “Armory should be open. We can go get practice gear.”

  “I was enjoying this more.” Velas stretched her arms. “How about you, Landen? Up for something a little more...exciting, than what we’ve been doing lately?”

  He leaned his face into his fist. “Your idea of exciting is, unfortunately, somewhat different from mine. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy putting you in the dirt as much as the next guy, but—”

  “Oh, if you want to talk like that, I’ll—”

  “Actually,” Taelien cut in. “I think I have a better idea for all of us for the day. Something even you might appreciate, Velas.”