17: Art Of The Gods (Patreon)

Vir startled awake, drenched in something cold. Shivering, he looked around to regain his bearings. Neel licked his face, staring at him with those big beady eyes of his.

What happened? He thought, pushing the bandy back. Panic swelled within him. Badrak’s Balls! The duel!

Vir sat up, katar in hand, ready to defend against Riyan’s impending attack.

Instead, he found Maiya, holding a half-empty bucket of water, looking at him with a forlorn expression. “It’s over, Vir. You lost,” she said. “Riyan knocked you unconscious. I’m so sorry.”

Vir’s panic turned into dread. “What? No… NO!”

Maiya emptied the rest of the bucket on his head. “It’s okay, Vir. It’s all over now… for better or worse.”

“That’s cold, Maiya! The heck are you doing!?”

“Oh, sorry. Reacted before I thought. Ha!”

Vir stripped off his shirt. If he’d lost, then… then that meant he’d failed, hadn’t he!? He’d be banished from Riyan’s abode! What would happen to Maiya?

It can’t be!

Just when he’d found a golden opportunity to learn how to fight, he’d lost it?

“I refuse to accept that. I’ll fight again. I-I’ll fight him as many times as I have to!”

Unable to contain herself, Maiya burst out laughing. “You lost the duel. But Riyan’s happy with your performance. You passed his test, Vir!”

Vir looked around and, to his immense surprise, found the bearded man on his knees right behind him, holding his case full of healing orbs.

Riyan returned his gaze.

“I never said I was happy. But it will suffice.”

The tension flowed out of Vir’s body as Maiya embraced him in a deep hug. “Congratulations! And sorry for teasing you. Consider it payback for all the chores you brought upon me this past week.”

Vir chuckled, hugging her back. “I suppose I deserved that. And, y’know, the bucket of water. We even?”

“Even,” she said with a nod.

Maiya turned and looked Riyan in the eye. “I hope you don’t expect me to pick up a sword as well?”

Riyan grinned. “Would you like to?”

“No, thanks!” Maiya replied.

“Too bad. You will train alongside the boy. At the very least, you will learn the basics of combat.”

Maiya took Vir’s katar, then threw it on the sand. “I surrender,” she announced with her hands on her hips.

Riyan blinked at her for a moment before bursting into uproarious laughter. “I was not going to test you, girl! I have no interest in bullying a child. Not when there is nothing to be gained from it.”

“O-oh,” Maiya said, looking down at the sand, her cheeks flushing red, “w-well, that’s good, then. But why do I need to learn how to fight when I have magic? Not like I’m ever gonna venture off to the Voidlands or something.”

“Really? Can you guarantee you will always find yourself in situations where you can use your magic? What if your enemy has an Artifact that drains the prana out of the very air?”

Vir’s eyes bulged. “Those exist?”

“Indeed, they do.” Riyan said as he circled them. “And what will you do when your body is saturated with prana, preventing you from casting even a single spell?”

Prana saturation? That was new to Vir. He wanted to ask Riyan to clarify, but interrupting the man would only anger him. He made a mental note to follow up on that later.

“Each and every mejai of the Order of Mejai Sorcar is a battlemejai, trained in both magic and the art of physical combat. The Mejai Sorcar fully understand that magic is not all-powerful. It is merely a tool. And placing all of your faith on a single tool places you at risk when it inevitably breaks.”

Maiya and Vir both fell silent in thought as they sat on the dome’s sandy floor. Riyan’s words made sense—it was dangerous to rely on only one strength, especially if it only worked in certain parts of the world.

If Vir had a choice, he’d love to learn every imaginable form of combat to maximize his options. The knowledge might very well save his life one day. Or the life of someone I care about, he thought, locking eyes with Maiya. Maybe she felt the same way, because she argued no further.

“There are many combat art forms in this world. The Kin’jal Balarian Arts are famous for their brutal efficiency, while the Saian martial arts are tuned for the unique requirements of cold weather mountain warfare. The Matali style is exquisite and refined, but ill suited against fighting multiple opponents.”

“So, which one are we gonna learn?” Maiya asked, staring up at their instructor, who loomed over them like a giant.

“The artform I practice is said to hail from the Age of Gods— from a time when the gods walked upon this realm. I speak of the sacred Kalari, an art that encompasses both unarmed and armed combat. It is effective both against lone opponents and entire hordes of enemies. Few have heard of it, and even fewer are proficient enough to teach it. You should both rejoice at your luck. Master these arts, and you will have no equal in this world.”

That sounded good to Vir. In fact, that sounded perfect. It was as if Janak himself had intervened in Vir’s life. Maybe all those years of being spited by the gods had accrued some debt on his behalf…

“You will train with each other. You will support each other when one of you falters. And together, you will grow!”

Vir couldn’t wipe the grin that crept onto his face. He’d come so close to being cast aside, but he’d endured. He’d proven his worth, and now he would reap the benefits.

Riyan met Vir’s gaze. “As for you, boy, you show potential, yes,” Riyan said, “but that is all. Potential is nothing if it goes untapped, though it is good that you haven’t had any prior training.”

“Isn’t that a bad thing?” Vir asked, gingerly standing up. Surprisingly, most of the pain he’d endured from the battle was gone. His ribs still hurt, but not nearly as much as before.

“Do not move too much for the next day or two,” said his healer and instructor. “My Set Bone and Mend Flesh orbs are only of B grade. They have undone the worst of the damage, but your body will still need time to recover.”

Riyan spun on his heel and loped across the sand to the weapon racks at the edge of the room. Vir slowly followed, stowing his katar in its proper place.

When he’d picked from the myriad of weapons for the duel, not a single sword had called out to him. But then he’d come across the katar. His gaze had lingered over the weapon, as if it sucked him towards it. The moment he touched it, he felt something. A connection to the weapon, though Vir was sure he’d never held one before.

It had been the right decision. He’d felt an instant familiarity with the katar during the duel. His movements flowed better than they should’ve, his thrusts quicker and more natural. It felt satisfying.

Vir idly wondered if this was how it felt to possess an elemental affinity.

Riyan leaned against a weapon rack. The rays of the setting sun filtered through the skylights high above, making the man look like he was glowing. “To answer your earlier question, you are like a blank slate. Untrained and ready to be imprinted with my teachings.”

The Ghost of Godshollow gave Vir one of his penetrating gazes. “You will specialize in stealth. Subterfuge and infiltration. Learning how to conceal your identity will benefit you greatly as an Ashborn.”

“I don’t think a hood’s gonna cover up his eyes and skin,” Maiya said. “Vir always wore a hood in the village, but everyone still knew who he was.”

“When I speak of stealth, what comes to your mind?” Riyan said, shaking his head.

Vir thought for a moment before replying. “I mean, hiding, right? Someone who wears a hood and skulks around at night so no one can see them?”

“Girl. What say you?”

“That’s what I thought of as well,” Maiya replied.

“Wrong. If such a person were spotted, would it not be immediately obvious that they were up to no good? Wouldn’t you be on guard against such a suspicious person?”

Neither Vir nor Maiya could argue with that.

“So what is stealth, then?” Vir asked.

“The art of being present, yet invisible. The ability to walk up to your worst adversaries, and walk right past them without arousing suspicion. It is the ability to stride into King Rayid’s palace, steal as you wish, and leave with an invitation to return again tomorrow.”

“I don’t understand,” Vir said. “That’s impossible.”

“Wrong. Through makeup, one can change their appearance. Proper clothing can turn a commoner into a nobleman’s son. By changing the way you carry yourself, by altering your mannerisms and the way you speak, you could even change your gender. A true master of subterfuge does not merely imitate an appearance. They become the person they wish to be.”

Vir’s jaw was agape. If that was true, it’d fundamentally change the way he lived his life. He’d be treated like everyone else. Respected. Loved. Maybe even have friends…

“And why would you want someone who specializes in stealth?” Maiya asked, hoping to probe his intentions.

“The uses are many. In the boy’s case, he can pass off as a normal human. Need I even mention how useful it would be to hide his status as an Ashborn? Besides, mastering this skill would allow you access to normally restricted places. It would allow you to perform all manner of deeds without anyone being the wiser.”

Like a thief, thought Vir.

Like an assassin, thought Maiya.

Vir had to agree that this was a brilliant solution for him. Not only would he be able to hide that he was an Ashborn, but if he pulled this off well, he could even avoid combat entirely. His stamina was his greatest weakness, and he doubted that would change much, even with Riyan’s training.

He’d always be at a disadvantage, but if there were other ways of protecting one’s self and those dear to him? He’d be a fool not to learn it. If he passed off as a Sawai aristocrat’s son, nobody would dare harm anyone close to him.

“Of course, there are times that call for invisibility. Times where none must ever notice you. There are Talents that support such actions as well.”

“I thought you said Talents were rare in warriors?” Vir asked.

“Indeed, though no one can know whether they will manifest a Talent. Talents do not use magic, and thus they cannot be tested for aptitude. They can, however, be used anywhere in the world without issue. Even a prana scorned Ashborn might have a chance,” Riyan said.

Vir had never even considered that he might be able to wield Talents. The mere possibility made him swoon with excitement.

“Hmm,” said Maiya. “What about my magic training? When do I get to start that?”

“Patience, girl. I have located someone suitable, but it will take some time to convince her. Tanya can be somewhat stubborn.”

“Could I learn magic with Maiya, too?” Vir asked. “Even if I can’t use magic, it’d still be useful to know how it works, right?”

Riyan crossed his arms and shook his head. “No. Time wasted learning magic could be spent developing your Kalari arts. I will not squander resources teaching someone something they can never use.”

“But—”

“This is my final say on the matter.”

Vir ground his teeth. You think that’s gonna stop me?

His eyes blazed with unquenchable determination. This would be a setback, but nothing more. It wasn’t like Riyan could stop Vir from sneaking up on Maiya while she trained. Especially if he mastered the art of stealth like Riyan wanted.

A bitter smile crept upon Vir’s face.

Nothing in this realm or the next could prevent him from learning the secrets of magic. Nothing.