After having seen my two companions' strikes, and hearing the feedback from the Master, it was clear to me what I needed to do; find a good middle ground between power and accuracy of movement when it came to performing the combo. I'd memorized the correct tempo from Batch, but I knew that imitating Ed's positioning would pose a challenge.
"I see you've already gotten a pointer from Bernar," the Master said, watching me approach and looking directly at my tightly clenched hands. I had been gripping my training sword the same way since my conversation with my brother. "Y-yes, Master. He told me how to hold it, but I've never swung a sword before," I said bashfully.
I want to look as good as they did when they were doing their combos, I thought.
The Master smiled as if he had read my thoughts.
"Well, why don't you at least try. You've already had a demonstration from your two roommates, and I saw that you were watching them closely. Try to imitate what they did, okay?" he said encouragingly. "I'll do my best, Master," I replied with a nod. He gestured for me to move forward, and I squared off with my training dummy.
Given our age group, it wasn't much taller than I was, but it was certainly wider than any of us present. The straw-stuffed dummy had a pole that ran through it to the ground, and a set of rounded red targets painted on all the vital spots of a humanoid body.
Ed struck the one at the neck, armpit and stomach. I should aim for those three, I thought as I recalled his performance.
"Begin," the Master called out.
I would love to say that I hit my targets accurately and efficiently on the first strike, but this was not the case. My sword ended up falling a little short of the target, and I quickly found myself falling forward, eating a mouthful of dirt in the process.
Naturally, there were a few scattered chuckles from the group behind me.
"It's alright, young Thoma. Like you said, that was your first swing, and honestly, mine wasn't much better when I first started. Try again," the Master said, glaring at the others behind me with his glowing, sun-like eyes.
I picked myself back up, wiped my mouth, and held my training sword in the same position I'd just had it in before my embarrassing demise. This time, however, I took a step closer, and pre-measured the length from the target to the upper quarter of my sword.
I'm not going to make the same mistake twice, I thought.
"Begin!" he called out again.
I felt what little muscles I had in my arms, hips, and legs tightening as I kept my eyes on the rounded target near the base of the dummy's neck, and heard the training sword slicing through the air as it met its first target with a dulled thwack. "One," I said, feeling the vibrations sent up my arm that were like nothing I'd ever experienced. I could feel my hands beginning to sting a little from the impact, forcing me to wince from the pain.
I drew the sword back enough for the tip of it to slide off the dummy, and performed the next uppercut. "Two," I grunted, the same thwack and stinging pain resounding from the strike, but I pushed through the pain and moved onto the next blow aimed for the dummy's midsection.
Thwack.
"Three," I said, feeling the slight swelling in my fingers, wrists, and forearms from the strikes, but I'd done it. I'd completed my first-ever sword combo. It wasn't graceful, not when compared to Ed or even Batch, but I'd done it nevertheless.
"Well done, Thoma," I heard Ed and Batch say in unison, but the Master didn't seem as pleased as they were. Whatever he saw in me had clearly left a bitter taste in his mouth, because his expression soured a little. "Try it again, but a little faster this time," he said with the same warm tone that didn't match his expression. "Yes, Master," I said, adjusting my grip on my sword for another round.
I performed the combo again, and while it was a little smoother, it was still nothing to brag about. The Master's face, still soured by whatever he'd seen, had softened a little when he saw my brow furrowing as I struck.
"Again," he ordered. I followed his order, the burning sensation in my arms beginning to grow more and more intense with every strike. "Again," he said, his tone growing a little more harsh this time around as I winced through the pain. One more, he commanded, his tone much more forceful, almost as if I'd heard it in my own head rather than through my ears.
I bared my teeth and struck, mimicking a mixture of both Batch and Ed's movements to the best of my ability. "One, two, three!" I grunted, feeling my arms grow almost limp with the final blow. My hands were numbed to whatever vibrations were carried through them, and I could feel the muscles in them and in my forearms feeling taut like a bowstring.
I panted heavily as the tip of my training sword sunk into the ground in front of me, but I felt a warm sense of pride flush over and through me, vaguely reminding me of the tendrils of mana I'd seen coming off the Master just a few days prior.
"Well done, young Thoma," the Master said, his expression softening once more. I looked up at him from beneath my brow, not bothering to hide my exhaustion.
That run really took it out of me. I can barely stand as it is, I thought, wiping the sweat from my brow.
"Thank you, Master," I managed to say. "I know that must have been difficult for you, but it's essential that you practice just as hard, if not harder than the others to catch up," he said, taking a few steps forward. "There is a lot I wish I could tell you right now, but it's not my place to do so," he said in a hushed voice before taking a few steps back.
What is that supposed to mean? I asked myself.
"Now, get to the back of the line and get ready for another round here in a few minutes," he gestured in the line's general direction. I followed his orders, and continued my training throughout the remainder of the morning. After a quick lunch, and another training session for another three-hit combo that afternoon, I was absolutely exhausted.
Why does it feel like my bones are trying to leap out of my skin? I thought as I made my way down a cold stone corridor towards my brother's room.
I finally came to the wooden door, but just as I was about to knock, my brother's face took the place of the door, causing me to briefly wrap my knuckles on his nose. "Ow, you little shit," he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I was just going to look for you, and this is how I'm greeted? Sheesh," he said jokingly.
"Sorry, my arms feel like that goop we had for lunch," I said, recalling the strange, lumpy pudding. "Oh, yeah. That stuff is nasty," he said in disgust. "Anyway, it's good to have you here, little brother, but we need to talk," he said, ushering me away from the door. "Where are we going?" I asked. "Meh, just getting away from unwanted eyes and ears," he said with a shrug.
We walked outside the fortress to the training yard we had spent most of the day in, and I could swear that I could still see my facial imprint in the dirt under the moonlight.
"It's good to see you again, little brother. I mean it," he began, putting a hand on my shoulder. "It's good to have you back. Gods above and below, I've missed your sorry ass, little shithead," he said. "When did you learn to swear like that?" I asked jokingly. "I've spent a lot of time training with the seniors the past few years," he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.
"Oh, so they all talk like that?" I asked, genuinely curious about how life outside of my little group was like. "S-sure," he said, a bead of sweat running down the side of his cheek. "I-in any case, that's not why I wanted to talk to you," he stammered, finally turning to face me.
"Well, what did you want to talk about?" I asked plaintively. "I… uh… I'm going to Caegwen soon," he said with a small amount of dejection in his voice. "Caegwen? Isn't that where the Elves live? Why do you need to go there?" I asked, not bothering to hide my confusion. "W-well, it's not something I can really talk about right now, but don't worry, it won't be for at least a year… I think," he said, clearly unsure of his own words.
"So, I only get a year with you before you're gone? How long are you going to be there?" I asked. "Dunno. The Master says that it depends on how well I do, apparently," he replied with a shrug. "It depends on how well you do? Are you going there to train or something?" I asked.
He let out a heavy sigh, and put a hand on my shoulder. "Look, there's only so much I can say right now, but the fact is that I am going there. I can't talk about why or what I'll be doing over there, but that's where I'll be going," he said, averting his gaze momentarily.
I was stunned. He and I never really held secrets, and I could tell, even at that young age, that whatever he wasn't telling me was probably hard for him to keep quiet about. I did the only thing I could think to do, and put a hand on his shoulder in return.
"It's okay, brother. You don't have to tell me, but I am going to ask a lot of questions when you get back," I said, trying my best to sound encouraging. He held a pained smile on his face for a few moments before he spoke. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay longer, but I'll do my best to help you get as far as you can in your training, okay?" he asked.
I nodded my head in agreement. "Good. So, tell me, how was life over there with dad? Did he treat you okay?" he asked, seemingly worried about my mental or emotional state. "Not really, but he did take me to see an old man not too far from our house. He apparently did something to me, or at least that's what the Master told me," I said with a shrug.
"That fucking bastard," Bernar spat. "I promise that when I get back, we'll do our best to figure out what happened, okay?" he said encouragingly. "Alright, then. I'll train as hard as I can until you get back," I said, balling my fists together near my chest.
"I know you will, little shit," he said, tousling my hair.