by Dante King
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” I said. “But before I drowned him, the monk said something about exploring all aspects of the various Paths in order to bring others to the ‘true’ one. Is that a common practice at Dying Sun? Or didn’t I read the brochure properly?”
I knew I was acting like a bit of an ass. After all, there was no indication Tymo had anything to do with the rogue monk’s demonic practices. But my short time in this world had given me a serious hatred for cultists.
“Of course not,” Tymo said sharply. “We would never consort with such tainted creatures. Nor would we seek to enslave the poor and disaffected to worshipping them. This is unprecedented, Swordslinger, I assure you.”
I met his eyes and believed that what he said was true. But Tymo's manner was too controlled, too good to be true. There hadn’t been so much as a blink when I’d told the Archpriest that I’d killed his fellow monk. He had simply accepted the loss, like a man might do to a piece on a chessboard.
“It might be unprecedented,” I said, “but the others are still out there. I followed your directions and found one of them. But the others seem to have vanished into the aether. Do you know where the others are? Or where they were?”
“If what you say is true,” Tymo said carefully, “then your training is of utmost importance. The Hierophant said that something dark was brewing at the heart of Flametongue Valley. Your search for our brothers must be postponed.”
“And if more of them are setting up little demon armies throughout the Valley?” I asked. “What then? Are you going to clasp your hands and pray that it goes away on its own?”
Tymo's eyes flashed with anger. “Of course not. But your abilities, while impressive, are not sufficient to combat those of our order. Especially not in force.”
I thought back to the fight with the monk and had to admit that Tymo had a point. I could fight any monk in single combat. With my friends at my back, I knew I could end them. But if there was a conspiracy, and the entire contingent of missing monks had banded together, then fighting them with my current powers wouldn’t end well for me.
“I want to speak to the Hierophant,” I said. “Inform him personally.”
“Impossible,” Tymo said. “His meditation is of the utmost importance, Swordslinger. To interrupt it now could spell disaster. Your training should be your primary focus before all else. It is, after all, why you came here, is it not?”
“Is he lying?” I asked the Immense Blades wordlessly.
“The spiritual realm is a dangerous one,” Yono said. “His Grace, King Beqai is a past master at the art, as are many who pursue its secrets. But Tymo speaks truly. You should not interrupt the Hierophant. To interrupt a conversation with those on another plane is to open the floodgates to a host of spirits.”
“I’ve seen such spirits, Master,” Choshi said with a shiver. “Yono’s right. Not all of them are as friendly or helpful as we are. If they’re allowed to seek out hosts, unbound from an item or a place—”
“They’d wreak destruction never before seen,” Nydarth finished. “Your power is great, Master, and you learn quickly. Take what you can from the monastery, and once your power is sufficient to match that of an army of monks, then proceed with your desired path.”
I nodded, convinced. Tymo's training had given me the edge I’d needed to take down the rogue monk.
I pushed off the pillar, caught myself with Flight, and glided to the floor beside Tymo. The Archpriest’s face was a mask of calm authority, but I wasn’t fooled by it. My news had shaken him to his core. I didn’t know what Tymo's game was, but he was right. I’d come here to train, and I’d be damned if I let the opportunity slip through my fingers.
“I did come here to train,” I said to him. “So, let’s resume where we left off.”
“Are you sure you are not fatigued from your journey and your battle?” Tymo asked.
“I’ve had worse,” I said.
Tymo raised an eyebrow in mild disbelief. “Very well. Let us begin. Take up your place by the altar. Today, Swordslinger, I will begin your training in Environmental Augmentation.”
Chapter Nineteen
I assumed my usual posture by the altar, and Tymo joined my side. He settled down beside me, crossed his legs, and gazed up at the enormous golden mural behind the center of the altar. I followed his eyes and observed the lion as it fought the dragon.
“Who are they?” I asked.
“Eresin and Myrdel,” Tymo answered. “Said to be the two greatest spirits who gifted Augmentation to mortals on our plane. They came to blows, however, after the mortals took their gifts and used them against each other. Eresin, the lion, believed that the knowledge should have been gifted to a precious few, and guarded safely until the mortals were ready for it.”
I eyed Eresin’s snarling jaws, rippling muscles, and deep, ruby-red eyes.
“Myrdel believed the opposite,” Tymo continued. “She believed in the goodwill of mortals and bestowed her power upon all who came to learn from her. Ultimately, of course, the dragon triumphed over Eresin. It’s said that Myrdel began the first guild in the Seven Realms.”
“You keep it here as a reminder,” I observed.
“Of course. The monasteries followed Eresin’s philosophy. To dispense knowledge, one must first understand what they are teaching. To incorrectly dispense too much, too soon, or not enough, too late, is to doom those who walk this plane, Swordslinger. You would do well to remember that.” Tymo waved away the thought with a flick of his hand. “Of course, Myrdel was gracious in victory. She allowed the monasteries to exist as places of contemplation and learning for those who graduated her schools. That is our role, first and foremost. To guard knowledge and teach it to the worthy.”
“The monk in Danibo Forest didn’t see it that way.”
“And he has paid for his sin,” Tymo said. “But, to your training. Have you ever channeled a technique purely from the environment around you?”
I nodded. “Crashing Wave works best when you’re around a source of water. I’ve pulled Stinging Palm from a shelf beside my enemy once. But it still used my own Vigor as its primary source of power.”
“Environmental Augmentation is a far more subtle art than simply casting a technique from your surroundings,” Tymo told me. “First, you must understand the nature of the Vigor that flows in the world around you. From there, you draw upon it as the source of your techniques, or Physical Augmentation.”
“That would explain why I couldn’t put the monk down,” I said to the Immense Blades. “If he was constantly drawing his power from his surroundings, then he wasn’t going to run out of Vigor in a hurry.”
“You will learn this power,” Nydarth said encouragingly. “Listen closely, Master.”
Tymo directed me to draw Vigor from the monastery floor and use it to light a candle. I could sense the power of the monastery, but I couldn’t touch it. No matter how hard I tried, the raw Vigor around me simply wouldn’t flow into my pathways. Tymo watched me closely as I tried again and again to overcome the obvious barrier between the environment and my will.
“Supper approaches,” Tymo informed me, a few hours later.
I stretched and bit back a growl of irritation. The Archpriest stood and abruptly left the hall. Normally, Tymo was happy to give me pointers or explain a concept to me, but he had been content to sit and watch me struggle, without a word of encouragement in passing.
It was out of character for him.
I dismissed my irritation as I stood. All of it was a learning process, and while I learned fast, I couldn’t pick up the magical equivalent of particle physics in a day. I stepped into the mess hall and ran straight into a crushing hug from Kegohr. Mahrai and Vesma exchanged a grin as I struggled to escape Kegohr’s grip.
“It’s good to see you, Effin!” he said.
“Likewise, big guy. But back off the ribs. I need those.”
I explained what had happened on our quest to find the missing mon
k, recounting the story to them, blow by blow. They stared at me in amazement as I detailed the fight with the monk, and I cut it short when the other monks arrived with dinner.
“Wait, so how did you kill him?” Kegohr asked.
“Shh,” Vesma said, and punched his arm. “Later.”
The monks set out our food without a word, said their silent prayer, and dug in. Tymo sat at the head of the table, looking over us gravely. The flattering and encouraging persona he usually evinced had vanished. Tymo reminded me more of the Hierophant now, with his clipped tone and no-nonsense demeanor.
“I’ve established a few more rigorous methods for your training sessions,” Tymo said. “My brothers and I will monitor your training closely, and meditation in the evenings is mandatory. Any excursions outside the monastery will only be permitted with the express permission and accompaniment of your teachers.”
Mahrai’s gaze screamed bloody murder as she stared at Tymo. “You’re going to keep us locked up in here like children? What’s to stop us from leaving?”
“If you wish to continue with our training,” Tymo said coldly, “you will hold to our restrictions. This is essential for your growth. The Swordslinger has brought a serious matter to our attention, and as such, we must do everything we can to help you all to combat it, should you be directed to do so.”
“The Swordslinger has a name,” Vesma said quietly.
“I’m sorry?” Tymo said sharply.
Vesma cleared her throat and met his eyes without flinching. “His name is Ethan. Swordslinger might be his title, but he has a name, Master Tymo.”
“And he is welcome to it,” Tymo retorted. “Are my instructions clear?”
Kegohr shifted uncomfortably beside me as Tymo swept his gaze over us. I made a show of nonchalantly eating rice. I flipped the chopsticks around in my hand and placed them neatly beside my bowl before finally meeting the Archpriest’s imperious gaze.
“Crystal clear,” I said. “Don’t leave the house, don’t play with the other kids, and don’t look at anyone the wrong way. All things we’re used to, right, guys?”
Tymo's mouth hardened into a straight line, but he returned to his food as if he hadn’t heard me. My friends finished their food at a leisurely pace, and only when the monks had left, did Mahrai say something.
“Fuck them,” she said decisively. “I didn’t come here to be treated as a child.”
“Then you may as well pack up and leave the monastery,” Vesma countered. “I don’t like it any more than you do, Mahrai, but if we want to keep learning, we have to play by their rules. At least until the guild tells us otherwise.”
“What do you think, Kegohr?” I asked.
Kegohr slurped soup out of a bowl and shrugged. “I get to fight an old monk, learn how to use Physical Augmentation, and get some control over it. I’m not complaining. But if you guys want to leave, then I’ll be right behind you.”
“You’re not seriously going to roll over for that wrinkled old skeleton, are you, Ethan?” Mahrai demanded. “You’re just going to sit there, say sarcastic shit, and do nothing?”
I met her eyes and smiled humorlessly. “Does that sound like me?”
Mahrai avoided my gaze after a second. “No.”
“I don’t like it any more than you do,” I said. “But we don’t want the monks as enemies, and they haven’t done anything to hurt us just yet. At least not the ones inside the monastery. I’m not about to stick out my ass and ask for it gentle, but we’re all learning things we can’t find anywhere else. So, we keep going until we have the basic concepts mastered or something happens that we can’t ignore.”
Mahrai exhaled sharply. “I hate it when you’re right.”
Vesma nudged her with a playful sparkle in her eyes. “Aww, look who’s actually starting to learn how to work in a team.”
“Say that again,” Mahrai told her, “and I’ll hit you halfway across the fucking mountains with this table.”
Vesma’s grin just widened, but she didn’t provoke her any further. I finished my dinner, said goodnight to the others, and returned to my room to meditate. If Environmental Augmentation was as tough as I thought it was, I had a long few weeks ahead of me.
I wasn’t wrong.
Physical Augmentation was a simple process compared to the Environmental training. I began each day with breakfast and a brief chat with the others before I sat down in the center of the hall and focused my Vigor. Tymo's directions were short and sharp, and he never offered me more than a few sentences to tell me to ‘try harder.’
I strained, struggled, and constantly re-evaluated the process, but I just couldn’t seem to tap into the Vigor of the world around me. My sense of raw Vigor increased, and my meditation replenished my Vigor faster than it ever had before, but I couldn’t find a way to draw upon the environment to power a technique. After hours of struggle, Tymo would dismiss me for dinner.
My friends continued to grow in their own techniques and described their progress as best they could, but without actually seeing the results, it was impossible to determine just how far they had come. The temptation to sneak out of the monastery and take the others in the Vigorous Zone to train became stronger and stronger.
Kumi and Faryn returned from their mission a few days later after my Environmental training began.
I couldn’t help but smile at them as they took their seats across from us in the dining room. They had both left behind their peasant clothes and found fresh robes from Wysaro City. Kumi dug voraciously into her rice as Faryn brought us up to speed. The last of the monks filed out of the room, closed it with a snap, and Faryn started her story.
“It took a day just to lead them out of the village,” Faryn explained. “They couldn’t believe that we’d burned down the Lost Shrine and that their guardians were gone. Tolin eventually decided to break the spell by setting their houses on fire.”
“You can’t be serious,” Vesma said incredulously. “He actually did that?”
“Mhm,” Kumi confirmed. “I didn’t like it any more than Faryn did, but it helped to move them along. I helped extinguish the fires after Faryn and Tolin finally convinced them to leave. Danibo Forest is far too valuable a place to destroy.”
“Did Tolin use any more of his Augmentation?” I asked.
Faryn shook her head. “He simply unleashed the full brunt of his personality upon the villagers. That was enough. It was a short journey after that. Tolin left once we reached the outskirts. He said he had a temple to tend to and an insatiable cat to feed. He also said to tell you to watch yourself.”
“I guess he thinks I stumble around with a basket over my head and my hands tied together,” I said. “How are the villagers holding up?”
“Well,” Kumi said. “It took some time, but thankfully, the healers have seen this sickness before. We stayed a few days to watch over them.”
“Kumi wanted to see more of Danibo Forest,” Faryn said. “I was more than happy to show her, of course. I wanted to be sure that there weren’t more demons running rampant through the trees. But we didn’t see a single one of them. Hopefully, the worst is now behind us.”
“Depends on what you mean by ‘worst,’” Mahrai grumbled. “I’d rather fight off another army of demons than be subjected to these wise old farts and their mumblings.”
“We could find a comfortable middle ground,” I said.
The others turned to look at me, confused.
“I’m with Mahrai,” I explained. “I’m getting nowhere with my own training at the moment. There’s nothing as good as training with your friends to make progress.”
“But we can’t—” Vesma began.
“We’ll have to keep it quiet,” I interrupted. “But I don’t think your teachers will really have a problem with it, if I’m honest. Tymo runs things around here, sure, but if they see you improving, then my gut tells me they’ll look the other way.”
“But what about you?” Vesma insisted.
I shru
gged. “I’ll deal with it if it comes to that. Kumi and Faryn, are you in?”
Faryn shook her head and sipped her tea with a satisfied sigh. “I can’t be seen sneaking off with you at night. I am a master, after all. I won’t stop you, though, and if it assists your growth, then you should follow your heart. But I won’t join you.”
I nodded. It made sense. I didn’t want to jeopardize Faryn’s position with Xilarion, and while she was happy to bend the rules here and there, I was content to leave her to the gardens and her superb potion-making.
“What about you, Kumi?”
“There’s barely a drop of water around the monastery,” Kumi pointed out. “I’ll continue to train as I have been. I can’t drag waterskins out to train with you if you’d like to keep things quiet. They make too much noise.”
“Fair point,” Mahrai said. “What about you two? You going to come out with us?”
Vesma shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I think it’s too risky.”
Kegohr shrugged. “I’ll follow you, Effin. The training is great and all, but it’s been ages since we’ve been able to train together. So, I’m happy either way. If you head out, then let me know. I’ll be right there alongside you.”
Vesma muttered a curse. “This won’t end well.”
“Oh, stop being such a model student,” Mahrai said. “You’re just as keen to show off all your flying. You just won’t admit it to yourself. And you won’t let us go by ourselves. Airs or not, you want to get out of the monastery just as badly as we do.”
Vesma looked to me for support, but I just smirked at her.
“Come on, Ves,” I said.
“Fine,” she huffed. “When do we start?”
“Let’s give it a couple of days,” I said. “If I still can’t make any progress with Environmental Augmentation, I’ll knock at your door early in the morning.”
“Why then?” Kegohr asked. “Wouldn’t night be better?”
“Sure, but we’re less likely to be attacked by spinedrakes,” Vesma said.
“Ah. Right. Well, I’m for bed,” Kegohr said. “See you all for breakfast tomorrow.”
