<u>Chapter Eight: The First Lesson</u>


    Training is going to kill me, Ash Lorcan thought as he did his sixtieth push-up. He groaned, his muscles screaming at him to stop. It was as if someone had injected fire into his body. What made it worse was that his body was covered in sweat. Luckily, he was able to take off his shirt.


    He longed to stop and allow the cool air to dry him, but if he did, Amalia would prod him with her staff, offering a scornful tongue lashing.


    So he rolled over and began crunches.


    “All the way up, Ash. I will not have you doing the exercise incorrectly.”


    Ash was beginning to think she was a monster herself.


    After running in place, dropping to the ground, picking himself back up, and doing that fifty times, Ash was sure he would puke.


    “She’s evil incarnate. I know it,” he muttered.


    The others were in similar states, all groaning like toppled cows.


    Amalia was shaking her head,


    “I expected a little more from you all. You’re all full of youth, after all. Now, get up, we’re moving on.”


    She produced four training swords from thin air, and they plopped onto the dirt.


    “Where were you keeping those?” Will asked with a groan.


    Amalia waved a dismissive hand,


    “It doesn’t matter. I suspect not all of you will have talent with the sword, but I want you to have a rudimentary understanding nonetheless. Grab one and pick an opponent.”


    Rosalia and Ash stood awkwardly across from one another.


    Will and Nick were doing the same thing nearby but far enough away not to interfere.


    Nick looked vastly uncomfortable holding the sword compared to everyone else, while Will looked confident. Ash, for his part, felt the blade fit him like a glove.


    He slipped into a stance with his feet apart, knees slightly bent, and knew it felt right.


    Rosalia looked like a newborn sheep, uncertain of herself and about to fall any minute.


    “Begin!” Amalia called out.


    Rosalia rushed him,


    “Hi-yah!” She yelled, slashing at him with her wooden blade.


    It was child’s play for Ash to move around the attack, but he hesitated to counter it.


    He didn’t want to hurt her.Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    She whirled around to attack him again, and his hesitation in attacking her cost him. The blow to his shoulder sent a pulse of hot pain zinging through him, and he blew out a hissing breath, wincing.


    “Oh! I’m so sorry, Ash! Did I hit you too hard?”


    Her eyes were wide with concern, and she was staring at her shoulder. She bit her lip.


    Light, but she’s adorable, Ash thought, not for the first time or the last.


    “It’s fine. Again?” He asked.


    Amalia was staring at them, and he didn’t want her to come to bother them.


    “Aha!” Will called out, having knocked Nick’s wooden sword out of his hand.


    “Light!” Nick swore, shaking his hand and sucking at his fingers, his eyes narrowed with pain.


    Will was grinning triumphantly and walking around, holding his hands out, his blade outstretched in one hand.


    “Thank you! Thank you! Tell me, are you not entertained!”


    Rosalia giggled again, and Ash frowned as he stared at Will.


    As the sun began to set, Amalia produced cookware and venison from thin air, prompting Ash to wonder where, by the Light, she was keeping it.


    Dinner was made shortly after, and the group ate like ravenous wolves.


    “Sit down, all of you. It is time you learned a bit about magic.”


    They all paid attention when she said that.


    She smiled slightly, violet eyes glowing in the firelight.


    “Yes, I thought that would earn your attention. Sit down, cross your legs, and listen closely. I do not like repeating myself.”


    When they had all done so, Amalia held up a single finger. A ball of pale white flame reminiscent of pearls and polished silver hung over her finger, no larger than a bead.


    They all stared, enraptured.


    This magic, Ash thought.


    Every part of him, in that single instant, wanted nothing more than to be able to do what Amalia was doing right now.


    The storyteller’s voice was amused as she said,


    “You see this as magic, as a spell out of the stories, yes?”


    They all nodded at once.


    The ball of white fire vanished when Amalia made a fist. She held her fist up momentarily before unfolding her hand to reveal her open palm.


    “In truth, it is not magic at all. At least, not in the way you’re thinking.”


    Her voice gained an edge of sorrow as she added,


    “Sadly, the truth has a way of removing the magic from most things.”


    She cleared her expression, lowering her hand as she spoke again. The night air caused her black hair to move like dark water.


    “What you saw is known as a technique using my elar, which comes from my elan.”


    “Elar?” Rosalia asked. At the same time, Will asked, “Elan?”


    Rosalia shot a glance at him, her ears going pink.


    Ash felt ice in his veins as he scowled.


    “I do not wish to over-explain, as you will learn most of this at Wyrmhaven. Instead, I want you to close your eyes and cast your consciousness within yourself. Look for the core of who you are, of that spark within you. You will know it when you find it.”


    Ash did as asked. His mind delved into his body.


    He was aching. Every part of his body he focused on was throbbing with dull, tired pain. He tried to push past that, going deeper.


    His heart pounded out a steady rhythm, strong but healthy.


    Deeper still.


    He encountered a coldness as if he had plunged his hand into chilly water. His lips tugged downward into a frown, his brows pinching together, and he felt a numbness blanket his thoughts.


    Blue light found on the surface of frozen ponds on a clear winter day exploded across his mind''s eye. He gasped, and at the same time, others around him did so.


    “Good, it seems you have all found it. This is your elan. Scholars have occasionally referred to it as your core. The light you’re seeing will be a different color for all of you. No, I will not tell you what it means. Not yet. All I want you to do now is try to draw on it with a mental hand.”


    This was harder.


    Or so Ash thought; no matter how he tried, he could not grasp that chilly light.


    “I’m doing it!” Rosalia laughed aloud.


    “Oh, but this feels wonderful!”


    “This…this feels amazing!” Will echoed.


    “I guess it’s nice,” Nick grumbled.


    But Ash did not add his voice to the mix because he felt no wondrous feeling.


    He clawed at the light within himself with thoughts. He tried a gentler approach, beckoning at it with a mental wave.


    He probed it with a spear jab of his mind.


    Nothing worked for him.


    When he opened his eyes, Amalia was staring at him.


    Slowly, she shook her head.


    Ash’s heart sank, and he hung his head.


    I can’t use magic, he thought with despair.