The week flowed by in an ever-running stream of knowledge and fatigue. Each day dragged Erec in unexpected ways as he got lost in the current.
Physical Conditioning was a constant start to the day. And he experienced an introduction to prayer and spell-work. Erec made sure to rerun through his notes every moment not in class. It meant late nights studying by a flickering lamp.
Obviously, he had favorites; every elective class left him considering the lessons long past, and the knowledge felt vital. But the most he was curious about had been Mysticism and Basic Prayer and Theology. It was a shame that Prayer and Theology was such a pain in the ass, and Mysticism might forever be completely out of reach.
Both were sore topics by the end of the week. Most of the higher nobility had familiarity with Basic Mysticism. Yet Erec never had the chance. The actual practice was far more detail orientated than he imagined. It required him to form precise images of glyphs in his head completed by perfect angles and formations before inputting mana.
They wouldn’t actually form a glyph until two months in.
Of course, VAL found the entire thing fascinating, and the machine’s excitement to force him to try the long monotonous practice became a headache. It’d be less frustrating if he believed he could use glyphs under the influence of ‘fury.’ But trying to hold a spell together seemed impossible in that state.
But he’d do his best to learn some of it. Spell-work might prove to be a good opener. The fact that the instructor had taught Bedwyr the year before and took great pains to mention how he’d done so well and that she expected Erec to live up to him proved quite grating.
There was one hidden boon found in basic Prayer and Theology; Rodren evidently had made it into the Academy; joining the Order of the Crimson Lotus. The thrill of catching up with the other boy made the class almost tolerable.
On the whole, Basic Prayer and Theology was awful and felt like pulling teeth to sit through. It wasn’t the actual idea or coursework that made it bad. No. That was memorizing prayers, learning phrasing, and practicing pronunciation while appealing to Goddess for power. Basic, at the lower levels. He’d learned to conjure a small light in the first week.
It only lasted for three seconds, but it was something.
The strength behind the prayer depended on their Faith; to gain Faith meant to open oneself up further to the Goddess and the church.
Not a hard concept, and personally, Erec had nothing against the Goddess. The church, on the other hand, was a different story. They had running hate for Erec’s family after his mother’s exile and excommunication. This particular course broke the Academy’s norms for instructors, opting to have a priest teach lessons instead of a Knight. From the first day, the priest recognized Erec’s family name and tore into him that he came from a line of ‘sin’ and didn’t deserve the attention of the Goddess above.
It was a struggle to keep his anger in check. With a hostile teacher, prayer requiring higher Faith to be helpful, and VAL forcing him to ask questions that returned condescension from the instructor, each day of the class felt like bashing his head against a wall.
He tried. But he already concluded prayer wasn’t a Strength to him, and likely wouldn’t be one.
Friday was the last day of courses before the weekend, which was given wholly to independent study, aside from Physical Conditioning. But before that, his last class of the week, and most anticipated, was Divine Talent Development. He lay his head down and dreamt of a white stag charging a massive wall, eyes burning with red flames.
— - ☢ - — - ☼ - — - ☢ - —
The classroom for Divine Talent Development was less a classroom and more of a small gym. It was spacious and tucked away in a far corner of the Academy proper. Blue foamed mats lined the floor and were the only decoration in the spare room. Polished wooden floors framed the mats in the middle—more than required for the four students who showed up.
Soren was, of course, there.
Besides him was a girl named Sarah Elgans, short and light blond hair, who'd worn a mischievous grin as she prodded them to share their Talents. And a reserved boy by the name of Benjamin Solicitia. He only introduced himself, then remained silent.
Bawling laughter echoed from the hallway. Boldwick swayed into the room with his arm wrapped over the shoulder of a bear of a man. Their two unkempt hairstyles and wild-like demeanor made it seem like two homeless cavemen barged into the class. The image wasn’t helped by the wine bottle they passed between them.
Despite the happy demeanor on display, bags hung from Boldwick’s eyes. He gave a tired yet steady gaze over the assembled Initiates.
The bear on his side snorted. “Every year, Wick. We get less and less,” he shook his head and tipped the bottle of wine back. “Problems are only getting worse, and they still won’t give us the space.” He shoved the near-empty bottle back into Boldwick’s hand.
Boldwick killed the rest of the bottle. His bleary shadowed eyes turned back to his friend. “Downright depressing, but they don’t develop it quick enough. And if the Talent isn’t flashy enough, they say they can learn it on their own later. As if these poor sods can learn everything on their own.” Boldwick cracked his neck.
His compatriot shook his head before Boldwick leveled his gaze on the class.
“Hey there, pay no attention to me—just auditing. Figured after our discussion, might as well,” Boldwick shrugged and disengaged, heading toward the side of the room to give the other man the stage.
"Right, right." The caveman said, puffing up his chest. "Name's Sir Able. I've got the glory of being your instructor." He snickered. "Forgive me for catching up with my old friend beforehand; troubled times lately." He gestured to the empty bottle. "It won't change anything about today. We're going to get a feel for what you got."
Soren sighed and shook his head.
“Now, me and Wick had a bit of a chat before class. I got a bead on your abilities. But hearing and seeing are two different things,” Sir Able pointed his finger at Erec. “Enhancer,’ he shifted it to Soren. “Projector.” Then over to Benjamin and Sarah, “Shifter, and another Projector.”
Those were the loose classifications of Divine Talents. Despite their variable nature, people had, over time, lumped together broad categories. Enhancers, like Erec, had Divine Talents that drew out or amplified their own Blessings. Projectors pressed their talent onto others—though, in Erec’s opinion, labeling Soren like that was a bit of a stretch, even though he manipulated others' senses. Shifters were rarer and involved a physical transformation in some shape or way for a limited time. There were a couple more broad categories and about a dozen more niche definitions that fell outside those.
“You’re all likely shit at your abilities, even if you think you aren’t. I’ll be the Knight that teaches you to use it like a true weapon deserves to be.”
Boldwick sniffed in the corner and pointed at Erec. “He’ll give you the hardest time of it if I were a betting man.”
“Eh?” Sir Able paused, taking a closer look at Erec. “Ah, that’s right, he goes wild.” Read full story at NoveI(F)ire.net
[More like you throw tantrums, but they’re being polite for your sake, Intern.]
“Well then, better to get a glimpse of it first. You, boy, go pick one of them and use your Talent.” Sir Able gestured Erec towards the rest of the initiates. Erec looked around; among all of them, everyone except for Soren seemed confused by that order. “We don’t got all day. Go. Smack one of them and get angry, I wanna see what we’re dealing with.”
Soren appeared to walk away toward the instructor as if he was about to offer a complaint.
There wasn’t time to question the command. Erec stepped back and covered his stomach. A fist slammed into his forearms as Soren vanished from walking towards the instructor to attacking Erec.
Soren retracted the fist and twisted his body into a roundhouse.
The Prince’s foot smashed into Erec’s face, tossing him across the ground.
“Neither of you moves,” Soren said with a cold glance to the other two Initiates. He swayed in his spot as if waiting.
[Get to your feet—Kick incoming!]
Erec barely got up as VAL issued another warning. He stumbled back and narrowly avoided the swish of air as Soren made to knee him, having once more ‘teleported.’
Fury painted his vision red. Anger stirred inside of him like a caged beast.
This time, supported and within the confines of the training room, Erec didn’t hesitate to let it free. He’d give himself entirely to Fury.
Erec came at Soren like an untethered beast.
It took two minutes for Soren to slaughter him like an animal.
His instincts helped to determine the Prince’s location, and he managed to snap off a vicious hit or two. But for each blow, Soren got two. And even in such a short time, he managed to adapt his style to counter the wild swings and attempts to tackle.
Without VAL as a copilot, Soren shifted to clever feints that manipulated and tricked Erec into a loss.
In the end, Soren sported a new bruise on his face but looked rather pleased.
Boldwick strode over and helped Erec to his feet, shaking his head.
[It becomes ever more apparent that pure strength will not yield you a victory when you accept too many blows to deal damage.]
Boldwick glanced at Sir Able. “Well, thoughts?”
The caveman stroked his beard and shrugged. “Either we get him to have a handle on it or pump him so full of enough Strength and Vigor he becomes impossible to stop. If he can control it, that'd be ideal since he'd be deadlier. But we could settle with making him an unstoppable beast and teaching him when to unleash it on our enemies."
“Yeah, I thought so.” Boldwick shook his head. “Best of luck; I’ll try to check in every week or two. But no promises. I’ve been beyond busy lately.” Boldwick rubbed at his eyes before swaying out of the room.
Sir Able drilled them for the next couple of hours. Spending time to break down each of their capabilities, then pitting all of the initiates against each other to get a sense of their different Talents. Sarah could lend some of her Blessings to others or borrow from others. Benjamin had the ability to sprout a pair of glowing wings from his back.
Not that he could fly with them. After about an hour of being forced to try, Able put a pin in that hope.
The entire time, Erec puzzled over Fury. Trying to figure out how to train it. Was it a matter of getting strong enough to be unstoppable in that state and learning when best to use it? Or could he control it?
How many monsters could he tear to shreds when it reached its full potential? How many lives might be saved?