Elegy for a Star

Tess arrived at the practice yard early, as ordered. There were a couple of training weapons that’d be left there, and she grabbed the to sticks she'd been using as knives to test with. She stretched, warmed up and practiced the swings that Howlcrag had taught her. Before she knew it, the Sergeant arrived.

“What are you doing?” He said with a growl Tess’ mind frantically tried to think of what she did wrong, but nothing came to her.

Howlcrag threw two pieces of finely cut wood to her. They were like training swords but much shorter, “Knives, not sticks? So I broke a couple swords and whittled them down for ya.”

Tess thought, “Wow. He really is a good trainer. He did that for me? This must have taken hours. He cares about this a lot.”

As she collected the weapons, Tess was smiling, at least until she felt a crack of a training sword on her upper arm. “Ow! Fuck!” She shouted, “Gods damn, that hurt.”

“I’ll do it again if you keep smilin’ like you were,” Howlcrag said, “Now let’s get ready. You’re gonna have to get real fast. You try to parry with those and you’ll end up with a broken wrist.”

“Yes, Sergeant,” Tess replied, “I’m ready.”

“I don’t want you to swing yet, but hold those and do your best to dodge my swings, alright?”

Tess nodded.

The Sergeant started slow, which Tess appreciated. She was struck lightly at the start. She quickly realized how important balance was. Whenever she lost her footing, she was hit. So long as she could remain balanced, she could slip around a swing. Well, a slow swing at least.

They practiced this for a while, speeding up once Tess got used to a certain speed, at which time Howlcrag gave her permission to start striking.

With her focus split between two objectives—dodging and striking—she found that she was piss poor at both of them. It was like having to relearn the dodging part all over again. Howlcrag repeatedly told her to strike faster; Each of her swings were easily parried, her arm grabbed, or the attack dodged. She was hit more often than before, which was demotivating to say the least, but Howlcrags belief in her spurred her on.

She wondered if her words last time resonated with him. He was certainly less violent, less insulting. He would sometimes even tell her when she did a good job.

Tess liked that. It encouraged her. Not everyone learns the same, she knew, and this was how she learned.

“Ugh, what I wouldn’t give to show this guy what’s what,” Miri grumbled, much to Tess’ irritation. This was her training, not Miri’s. Miri was already capable. Already useful. Tess wasn’t. Tess didn’t want to have to give her control every time that they were in the Void. That seemed dangerous to say the least.

“Take a break,” Howlcrag said, gesturing to the waterskin on the bench that Tess had brought, “Drink.”

Tess did as ordered, but her mind trailed off. All day she’d been thinking about the dream she had last night. She recalled it when she was unconscious from Madame Pava, too.

Krahe. Maeros. Harkroth. Henry. Miri told her about these people, was that why she had a dream about them? The dream replayed in her mind. “Born from blood…” Tess whispered thoughtfully.

“What’d you say?” Howlcrag and Miri said at the same time.

“Nothing, Sergeant, just talking to myself,” Tess explained.

“No, I heard you say something, what was it?” Miri asked, “You said ‘born from blood,’ didn’t you?”

Tess shook her head, but Miri persisted, “Tess! I’m serious, what did you say? Tess, have you been having dreams?” Miri sounded panicked.

Tess finished drinking her waterskin and placed it down. She picked up her knives and replayed the events of the dream. Leap, slash, land, sorcery, slide, hamstring, back, back, flank. She played it in her mind, practicing the slashes.

She turned to find Howlcrag looking at her. “That was good technique,” he said with an approving nod.

“Born from blood,” Tess reminded herself in her mind, “Born from blood.”

They prepared for more training.

When they began, Tess ran forward. Howlcrag immediately chided, “Don’t rush!” However, Tess was fast enough to get past his reach. Only his arm collided with her, not the sword. She jammed the wooden knife into Howlcrag’s raised forearm on his free hand.

“Damn, Tess, that was much, much better,” Howlcrag said with a big grin, “Now, tell me, what was wrong with that?”

Tess didn’t have to think too hard, “If you had a shield, I would’ve hit it.”

“Right. You had me wide open, so go for something vital,” Howlcrag advised.

Tess thought to herself, “That’s where I was aiming. That’s where Krahe aimed.”

Miri whispered, “Tess, what are you doing?” She snapped, “Whatever it is, you need to stop! Please. Please, stop.”

But she didn’t. Howlcrag nodded and said, “Let’s try again. You’re ready for a live pace, so it’s gonna be as fast as a real fight, alright?”

Tess nodded.

When the practice started, Tess dashed again. Howlcrag was ready this time with a faster thrust rather than a slash that left him open this time. Tess side stepped and lowered herself, sliding past Howlcrag. She couldn’t slide between his legs; The man was too squat for that. She slipped past one leg, ran the wooden stake over his hamstring. She dug her feet into the ground in order to gain some purchase and bring herself to her feet before she ran a series of slashes across Howlcrag’s back; two on the lower back, one on the flank.

Tess was panting; not from exhaustion, but from excitement.

Howlcrag turned around and with wide eyes he asked, “How did you do that?”

“I don’t know,” Tess said, beaming from ear to ear and shaking her head, “It just came to me, and…”

“This is Pava’s doing, isn’t it?” Miri spoke between Tess’ ears with a worried expression, “Tess, this isn’t a good thing. I know you’re excited, but…”

“Let’s practice some more. If you can do that regularly, we need to get you into some spars,” Varon said with confidence and amazement.

For the rest of the day, Tess beat Howlcrag, and it was by a fair margin. Varon couldn’t believe his eyes, encouraging and praising Tess the entire time. He would joke and laugh each time he was beaten. “I knew you’d be better with knives!” He would laugh each time Tess slipped by his swing and poke or slash him with those small sticks.

“Gods, Tess,” Varon chuckled, “I think you’re ready for go against the best, and we only just begun.”

Miri whispered in her mind, “We need to talk.”

“No need,” Tess whispered, “And I’m going to try on those gloves, too.”