Weight of Worlds

Ranvir sat down in the middle of the field, watching Master Svenar walk away. Something to be proud of. The words echoed in his mind. He had a little while, until weapons class. He needed to think.

Do I even want to go? Ranvir let the idea roll through his mind. It was an elected class, so he didn’t have to. He could just go to Teacher Vigo and tell him it wasn’t for him, that he didn’t want to do it anymore.

But do I want that? Or am I just tired of the other students? He couldn’t come to an answer that felt true. Part of him wanted to quit, it was a lot of hard work and he’d found no benefit pushing at it, so far.

The sudden shock of the bell, announced the beginning of the next class. “I can at least tell him, just like Teacher Svenar told me to.”

With some form of resolution, Ranvir got to his feet and jogged towards weapons. Teacher Vigo had already arrived, though he wasn’t in the company of Master Stjarna this time. Instead, he had a younger man with him, in the outfit of an senior student.

The groups had already been split and begun their warm up. Ranvir felt their attention like a weight on his shoulder, but Master Vigo’s gaze fell like tree on his back.

The jog stretched long under that glare, with his legs still sore he was also starting to slow down already.

“Teacher-“ Ranvir began, before Vigo cut him off with a raised hand.

“Before you say anything, I want you to listen to me, first. If you feel something’s not working, then you need to change it. Maybe that means leaving this class, but I know that’s a mistake. Right now, it might feel like the better choice. But when they push you to the front line—and they will push you to the front line, spatial or not—you will wish that you’d continued your weapons class.

“So I implore you, look for change in another place, before you leave this class.”

Ranvir fell quiet, afraid to meet his teacher’s intense gaze. Something to be proud of. “I don’t know what to change, if not this class.” Ranvir said, slowly.

“I would suggest you leave the group. You don’t seem to enjoy the sword, nor the people who practice it.”

Ranvir turned his gaze to the students in the group. They were by far the biggest of the four. “I don’t know…” As a kid he’d dreamed of being the master of the sword, wielding it against endless hordes of Ralith. Freeing the front lines one swing at a time.

“Consider it.” Vigo’s voice was firm, but with enough empathy that Ranvir felt some desire to at least try. “Maybe give each weapon a try, before you leave.”

Ranvir nodded reluctantly. Something to be proud of. He gritted his teeth. I won’t quit, not today. Today I will be proud that I stayed.

He nodded to his teacher and walked over to the rack. On the way he passed the sword group, hearing quite a few murmurs of ‘Cold-front’. He tried not to pay them any mind, but failed utterly. Grev paused in the middle of one movement, which caught his eye. They locked eyes for a long moment, before Grev nodded slowly. He returned the nod, continuing towards the rack.

Which weapon to choose? Ranvir let his hands fall on an axe. Sansir’s using an axe, maybe I should join him. But that didn’t feel right, using a weapon just because his friend was.

He looked examined one of the spears for a moment. It was almost three quarters of his height. From what Ranvir knew, the soldiers used them primarily with shields in their off hand, though there was enough length on the weapon to allow for two hands.

No shields to be found. Ranvir looked across the weapon racks. Wonder why that is. Shaking his head, he moved on to hammers. Picking one up, he was a surprised by the heft. It was heavier than he’d expected a wooden replica to be. Though not quite as heavy as the ones he’d been using in his mother’s workshop.

Spinning it in his hand, feeling the handle rotate under his fingers felt comfortable. A return to the familiar. He picked at a few other hammers, trying to find one he liked better than the others, but they were all nearly identical.

Finally, he joined the other hammer wielders. They were a decidedly smaller group than the rest, even axes were noticeably bigger. Their warm up movements were similar to the sword, but in practice felt far different. With so much weight on the end of the weapon, all the movements seemed to have a life of their own. A familiar one.

Ranvir didn’t smile as he joined in on the movements, but he did feel a little lighter and brighter in his chest. The world wasn’t quite as gray anymore. The necklace under his uniform didn’t seem as choking as it sometimes could. A small piece of home had returned to him.

Sparring was a far different affair with hammers, than with swords. A rap on the forearm with a sword hurt and might leave a welt. A hit with a hammer, even a mallet, could break the bone.

Ranvir quickly found that he was actually worse with the hammer during sparring, than he’d been with the sword. He’d already managed to get somewhat used to the reach of a sword. On top of that, he found it hard to let some of the habits he’d built over the years go.

Still, that didn’t change one fundamental thing. It was more fun. He had more fun practicing with the hammer, than he’d ever had, swinging the sword around. Despite the many mistakes he made, he still felt like the hammer was actually doing what he wanted it to. He just didn’t always know how to best wield it.

His biggest problem was the recovery on the hammer. If he wrenched hard enough on the sword, he could recover from a poorly timed swing against most opponents. That wasn’t true with the hammer. He instead found himself vulnerable to attacks, as the attempt just pulled him more off balance.

Pulling their strikes was a must, but that still meant he left the practice black and blue. In fact, he might be more hurt than after sword sparring. The student, Master Vigo had brought along, stopped briefly next to them, a soft glow enveloping all of them. Ranvir noted that all of the hammer students were shimmering, afterwards. The effect lingered for less than a minute, but he still felt much better for it.

Putting the weapon away, he noticed Teacher Vigo still standing on the field. Though Grev was there too, a bit farther away, but there all the same. Deciding he would rather talk with the teacher, he stopped next to imposing figure.

“Student.” Vigo greeted him. “I wanted to hear if you’ve made any decisions about your future attendance?” He had an air of anticipation around him. Before Ranvir could reply, he continued. “I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to be enjoying yourself today.”

Ranvir paused. It was different for sure. And it had been fun, to practice without all the attention that he’d gotten from the sword group. Looking inward, he did find a bright yellow glow of happiness. It wasn’t huge, and there was still a rolling purple and black cloud of anxiety, but it wasn’t alone anymore.

“I did have fun.” Ranvir answered. “I think I’ll continue with the hammer tomorrow.”

Master Vigo let out a breath, a tiny smile breezing across his face. “That’s good to hear, just remember you don’t have to feel stuck, just yet. You can freely change groups, until the end of the first trimester.”

Ranvir nodded, he might try out axes after all. The teacher turned to leave, as a question popped into Ranvir’s mind.

“Master, do you ever take time with your tether?” He was surprised that was still an activity after one had learned to control their powers outside of the tether-space. However, when Svenar had mentioned he did, Ranvir felt curious to know if he was alone in that fact.

“I do. It helps calm my mind before sleep.” Vigo let a small smile onto his face. “Makes me sleep like a baby.”

Ranvir nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

“Not a problem, kid.”

Ranvir watched him walk towards the Masters’ tower, feeling Grev’s attention like a metal blanket. Metal blankets were notoriously hard to ignore, he fucking gave it his best though. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Turning, he looked at Grev, who’d started walking towards him.

“I’m sorry.” Grev said, as soon as Ranvir looked at him. “Esmund told me about what happened to your mother. I would never have said that if I’d known.”

“I’m sorry, too.” Ranvir replied. “I didn’t mean to go off on you like that.” Though he still couldn’t believe what Esmund had said. He was certain Dovar had been trying to rile him up.

“We all good?”

“Will you let me hit you?”

“No… What the hell?”

“I guess, we’re good, then.”

“You’re so stupid…” Grev tried to keep a straight face, but he couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping. “Let’s get back to the dorm then. I bet Sansir is in the middle of beating Esmund’s mind to batter.”

“I don’t get why he plays with you guys.” Ranvir admitted, as they made their way across the campus. “He’ll just lose. You’re so much better than him, it’s not even close.”

“Hey, you’ll never improve if you never play.”

Ranvir cocked his head. He’d been getting better at predicting the outcomes of the games, even though he never played. However, he didn’t say anything, instead choosing to let the comment slide.

Arriving at the dorms, they found what they expected. Sansir absolutely dominating Esmund’s pieces. Ranvir thought Grev might be able to get out of it, but Esmund had no chance. He didn’t take the time and careful thought necessary, nor did he have the experience.

“How would you get out of that?” Ranvir asked, deciding to help his friend out a little.

“I could get out of this… I think.” Grev said, staring at the board.

“Really?”

“No cheating!”

Sansir and Esmund spoke up right on top of each other. Esmund seemed surprised that the board wasn’t an outright loss yet, while Sansir’s reaction told Ranvir that there was definitely a way out.

“Mind if I take over?” Grev asked, already hip checking Esmund out of his seat on the couch.

“No, please. I’ve already lost.” Esmund replied, moving to give Grev more space.

They watched as Grev and Sansir slowly played out the game. When the dinner bell rang, it was clear Grev had come in too late to turn the game around. Sansir just had to clean up the last few pieces, which could take a surprisingly long time.

Grev simply tipped his king and they went for food, though he was promised a rematch. Sansir and Grev left early to start their next game, but neither Esmund, nor Ranvir, felt the need to hurry their dinner along.

“Thank you for talking with Grev.” Ranvir said, after they’d finished eating. The only time Esmund would be quiet for an extended period of time, at least in Ranvir’s experience, was for food. Not even classes would have him sitting still.

“I just hope you two are on good terms again.” Esmund said, as they dropped off their wooden bowls and headed back to the dorm.

“We’re better, at least.”

“But you still don’t believe what I said?”

Ranvir simply held quiet.

Entering the dorm, Sansir and Grev were in full swing with their opening moves. This meant lots of silent staring at both board and opponent, as they took their time between moves.

“You should’ve seen Svenar’s face when he realized you wouldn’t show up.” Esmund said, though Sansir and Grev didn’t acknowledge his words. “He looked like he might fall over, right there on the spot. His face became this wonderful mixture of anger and worry, as it started turning purple.”

“Really?” Ranvir felt sorry for the teacher.

“Yes, I’ve never seen him fumble a class like that. We pretty much got to do what we wanted! You couldn’t possibly avoid showing up tomorrow?”

“No, I don’t think I’ll miss any other classes.” Ranvir replied. “Especially if he felt that bad about it.”

“Aww, don’t worry he’d gotten over it, before the next class started.” Esmund away Ranvir’s worries.

“Wait, next class?” Ranvir looked up from the chess board, to look at his friend. “There’s only weapons after our tethered class, right?”

“Uhh… fuck.” Esmund scratched at his cheek, as he searched for an excuse. Obviously, he failed. “It’s not really a secret, but I’m also not supposed to advertise it. I’m getting private lessons.”

Grev and Sansir simultaneously broke from their competitive trance to look at Esmund. “You’re getting one-on-one lessons?” Grev asked, sounding stunned.

Ranvir didn’t know how to feel about it, though he was a little relieved the sickly-green beast of jealousy didn’t rise its unwelcome head.

“What kind of lessons?” Ranvir asked. “If you’re allowed to say.”

“I think it’s okay. It’s really just slightly more advanced lesson of what we’re doing now. Like the dust ball exercise.”

“Dust ball?” Sansir asked. Everyone was staring intently at Esmund as he spoke.

“Well, it’s tough to explain, maybe I should just show you…” He reached out for one of Grev’s pawns.

“Not that one, the one next to it.” Ranvir added, as Esmund reached for the one closest to him.

Grev looked at him in confusion. “If he’s going to take from my board, does it really matter?”

Though from Sansir’s gaze, Ranvir knew he’d been right. “Sansir was going to take that one either way, put pressure on your bishop.”

“Dustball,” Esmund butted in. “is supposed to be a training exercise for warp generators, where we use a controlled amount of power to turn an object… into dust.” He held the pawn in the palm of his hand. A slight blur in the air hit and scored it along the side, another struck it scoring another groove. More cuts came and went, each moving the piece in his hand.

As the cuts grew quicker, their movements got smaller. Though he couldn’t quite tell as easily, he was sure the cuts also were shallower. Esmund was starting to sweat heavily, when one cut caused the pawn to lift the tip slightly into the air.

Then Esmund dropped it falling back in his chair. “That’s the basics. The full exercise is supposed to have lifted it into the air by the sheer amounts of hits, then keep it there, cutting it into dust.”

Grev clapped Esmund enthusiastically on the shoulder. “That was impressive. You might actually be worth the attention Svenar is giving you. Goddess blessed fool.”

More congratulations abounded, as they each told Esmund how impressive it was. Ranvir felt a little more of those black-purple clouds lifting, moved away by the bright yellow happiness of being with his friends.

The pawn was still usable as a chess piece, though it was visibly roughed up from Esmund’s efforts.

Once they all headed to bed, getting ready for another day of hard work. Ranvir paused before getting under his blanket. Something to be proud of. Pressing against his chest, he fell into his tether-space, looking at his Goddess-given blessing.

I could become better at my hammer work. He paused for a long moment, thinking over his return to weapons class, then decided it didn’t feel right. I am proud that I stuck with weapons… That one felt better, but still wasn’t there. He could vaguely hear the soft breathing of his friends, even through the tether-space.

They all were gifted with the ability to fall asleep quickly, though only Sansir and Grev could do it quietly. Esmund’s snores weren’t loud but they were noticeable. Esmund. His friend, his brother, didn’t appear to walk at the same pace as the rest of the academy. Ranvir couldn’t lie, he felt genuine envy for his friend’s talent.

He picked up the uniform trick on his own, without help. He managed to work his ability on the first day, and not even two weeks later, was already managing small wonders. Ranvir couldn’t even use his ability. His tether was growing, yes, but slowly compared to Es.

He thought of the dustball, how Esmund had managed what was clearly a good training exercise, even if he only managed it partly. There was no envy tonight, just joy and happiness over his friend’s progress. I am proud of my brother. Maybe he might be envious again tomorrow, but today, he was proud.