Weight of Worlds

Ranvir and Kirs took one look at Harald Stonetooth’s memoirs, journals, biographies, stories, and studies. These were just the work he’d personally commissioned other people make to commemorate him. Over the course of his life span, from him advancing to second stage to finalizing his growth as Elusria’s only Triplet Master on record, he’d amassed more than a hundred volumes of text about himself.

Then there were all the accounts related to him. Studies by other people, scholars examining his training, interviews and a hundred other things. There were books on books on books in the library deliberating on Harald’s comments and words. Scholars had dedicated their life to pulling out all the information they could get from that collection.

“Maybe I should look at Figir’s book again.” Ranvir said. “Maybe her details of advancing to Sword could help.”

“You’ve already gone over those books enough times.” Kirs said. “You’d know if there were any.”

And she’d recorded plenty of information, from experiments with her power, to what she’d found in difference to generators. There was just a lack of information about her actually advancing to Sword.

Ranvir sighed, picking up one of the volumes. At least, it would give him an excuse to work on his notation and with the tether swirling in the back of his mind the time wasn’t completely lost.

Ranvir tottered up to weapon class early. It felt extremely off to him as he gathered on the field with Sansir, Grev, and Esmund. Mostly for the fact that there were a dozen more groups students gathered at different fields, with more students streaming in joining existing classes or stopping at a new field.

Ranvir recognized the people heading towards their group. They were the same people they had their physical class with. It was a natural fit with the entire first year already having been separated into groups for physical training. An additional class had just been added to the schedule.

The rack behind Ranvir was also a lot different than usual. There were a lot more spears than normal. Each class were split into two groups, the ones that had weapon class previously and the ones that didn’t. Most of their class hadn’t ever touched a weapon, let alone fought with one.

When the bell rung, Master Vigo showed up and gathered them all into a square segment for their warm ups, which were like usual. Esmund picked a spear and joined the rest of the wielders, Grev, Sansir and Ranvir standing aside with their own weapons.

“Do we know why they don’t get to choose a weapon?” Ranvir asked, as they lined up going through their forms. Even Ranvir handled his with relative ease at this point. He knew the forms well and had practiced them enough, the physicality required was still coming in but he was leagues better than the students fumbling with the spears.

Ranvir closed his eyes as he practiced the warm up. At first, he’d been trying to sense the movements of his friends, but yesterday he’d quickly found that he was picking up on his own moves much faster. So for now he was limiting his senses to himself, instead of taking in their complex and unfamiliar forms.

With his new senses honed on his own movements he had an easier time determining when his stance was too narrow, or he swung too wide, despite him closing his eyes. Though, when he tried to figure out why he had an easier time sensing himself, he couldn’t tell. At first, he assumed it was related to sensing space, but something didn’t seem right. It wasn’t the same feeling.

It felt more like proprioception—A word he’d found in a book and had to ask Kirs about—but the innate senses of ones own body. Except this was through a different sense.

“I would assume.” Grev said, his voice controlled and easy as he moved through his forms. “That it’s a question of production. Even a somewhat accurate to weight hammer takes material and time to make. Swords and axes even more so. Spears, however, you can get away with a long stick. They can literally mass produce them.”

Ranvir mumbled his agreement, his mind still stuck on the feeling of his movements. Need to step a little wider there, to gain a better sense of balance. Ranvir thought. Lean back to counter effect the weight of the hammer here. He felt it when he swung the hammer exactly right, it tore through the air with a speed and ease he normally lacked. Something he guessed the practice was all about. Finding out how perfectly wielding a weapon felt like, and then applying that to real combat. Getting in the habit of controlling the weapon.

Ranvir stilled himself, holding a wide squat with the hammer in front of himself. This was the worst part of his stance, measuring the half-way point. He felt the strain quickly in his thighs, as they shook to keep him steady, even as the hammer wobbled in front of him. There wasn’t nothing to do but suffer through as he slowly levered the hammer up above him, letting go first with his left hand to raise it high.

As he returned it, his body familiar with the rhythm of the exercise, he tried tuning his sense towards Sansir who going through his own forms close to him. First, he started with the same senses he felt tether power with. He got a flicker of sense from him, like a slightly cold breath of wind but nothing more. Sansir wasn’t embracing the pressure at the moment and had no hold of his power.

But from what Ranvir could tell, neither had Grevor the first time he’d sensed him slashing with his sword. There has to be something else, something more, to it! Ranvir insisted, as he lowered the hammer from where he’d raised it with his left hand, shoulders, thighs, and hips were burning from the effort as he finally returned to full body movements.

The next patterns had been his favorites when he’d first started, big looping strikes that made him really feel the weight of the weapon he was slinging about. He’d done them enough and for so long that he could easily manage them without paying too much attention.

Instead, he returned it to detecting Sansir’s movements. There had to be something, it couldn’t have just been a fluke. He’d felt movement before, on command, just like back at the library.

There was a cry from someone in the crowd of spear wielders, causing a few of them to let out shrieks as chaos ensued. Something whistled through the hair, the sound of it as audible as Sansir’s strikes splitting the wind.

Ranvir stepped back as he opened his eyes. The stick sailing past him by inches, hitting the dirt behind Sansir almost tangling his legs up. Ranvir followed its trajectory back to the chaos of students. One was staring wide eyed at them, he’d turned towards them and the weapon had clearly been thrown. There was a glint of metal on the students collar, before he disappeared into the chaos.

Ranvir didn’t get a good look at him before he disappeared into the crowd. That had been metal on his uniform collar, right? Flares of orange, red, and yellow were trying assert themselves, telling him it was a deliberate attack.

“Did you just-“ Grev looked disbelieving at Ranvir, who was trying to choke the fires stirring inside himself. “You did it again, didn’t you? You gotta sort your magic eyes out, Ranvir. That’s too big an ability to let slip.”

Ranvir bit his lip, nodding hesitantly to his blond friend. “He’s right, Ranvir.” Sansir added in. “Awareness like that would be huge. Just imagine all the things you could do. You could even become a janitor, find all the dust and dirty bits at the academy.” His chuckle let Ranvir know no ill intent were meant.

Ranvir glared at him, fighting down a little smirk. “I know you’re right, but I don’t know what I’m doing. I just…” He shrugged searching for the right word. “Heard it?”

“Let’s start there then.” Grev said. “Don’t over-complicate it. Do you remember how you first felt space?”

Ranvir hesitated, next to them Master Vigo was slowly bringing order to chaos of spears. Multiple students were sent over to the group of healers standing by to help, more than one of them had a bloody nose.

“After I got it the first time I just kept trying to replicate it.”

“Alright, so close your eyes and we’ll walk in a circle around you and swing our weapons. Tell us who it was.”

“I don’t know if it works like that.” Ranvir said. “Though I might be able tell how you do it.”

“Good enough.” Sansir gestured for him to close his eyes.

Ranvir heard the first swing through the air and cocked his head. “Vertical?”

“Horizontal.” Sansir replied.

Ranvir shook his head, he wasn’t deep enough in his senses, yet. He took in a deep breath, they continued circling him for a minute more, while he centered himself. He heard the whistles of wood through air as they made their way around him. He noted the increase in speed of Grev’s movements as he lost his patience and got more rapid with his strikes.

The wooden sword whistled in a horizontal strike, before he started pulling it back up for an overhead blow. Ranvir lunged forward catching his arm before the descend, his leg intervened in Grev’s next footstep, taking his foot out from underneath him.

Ranvir opened his eyes, as Grevor fell to the grass. Sansir let out a quiet whoop as he clapped twice. Grev looked up at Ranvir with a startled expression. “We’re going to regret helping you learn this, aren’t we?”

They didn’t regret it that day. Once they turned to sparring, Ranvir tried replicating the technique, but it turns out waiting for five minutes for the right headspace, then another minute for the right movement tended to get you slapped in the head with a wooden weapon.

“What I’m curious about,” Sansir began. “Is if we can replicate it.”

“Replicate?” Grev asked. “Like sensing light?” He held out a hand. “Easy, it’s here.”

Sansir rolled his eyes

“No.” Sansir rolled his eyes. “You ‘hear’ the movements, right?”

Ranvir nodded.

“Right, you ‘hear’ the movements with too much detail. So what if we can replicate it with other senses.”

“Like smelling movement?” Grev let out a guffaw of laughter.