Chapter Thirteen: Brilehaven


    “What do you mean, ‘Your kind?’ Dragons? Why do I need a dragon?”


    Amalia said nothing, merely watching the stream as the water moved along. A bird chirped nearby.


    Ash’s left eye twitched,


    “Tell me!”


    “You think yelling will pry the answers from me. It will not.”


    Amalia turned her eyes to him, her face the same stoic expression it always seemed to be.


    “If you want to know more you will have to wait until after the monster contract in Brilehaven.”


    Of course, more of her conditions. He clenched his fingers into fists, closing his eyes he attempted to calm his beating heart, the icy anger that pulsed in his veins.


    “Why? Why these conditions? What point do they serve?!”


    “Many points, in fact. There is one other option if you wish to explore it.”


    “Which is?”


    Amalia flourished a hand at herself,


    “Land a single blow on me, and I will answer any and all of your questions.”


    Ash rushed her, fist raised. He brought it down like a hammer blow to an anvil, sure the element of surprise would let him land the blow.


    He hit nothing but empty air, his momentum sending him tumbling end over end, lances of pain shooting through his body as he groaned.


    “A surprise attack, smart. Not unexpected, however.”


    I didn’t even see her move Ash thought to himself in agony.


    “Are you done? I thought for sure you’d fight harder for these answers.” Amalia’s tone had no hint of mocking.


    Ash pushed himself up but rushing had earned him nothing. He studied Amalia, looking for any opening he could find. She just stood there, black robes rustling in the breeze.


    “Perhaps you would fair better with a blade in hand,” Amalia stated. She held out a hand, and a wooden practice sword materialized in her palm. She tossed it at his feet.


    Ash scooped it up, moved into the falling frost dragon, and attacked.


    Amalia didn’t even appear to move. It was like Ash was trying to strike the air itself. All he could see were little flashes of black and violet.


    “Your form is excellent. You don’t look at all as if you have only been training for a few days.”


    Ash didn’t waste time talking; he just kept trying to hit her, his wooden practice sword a blur as he used every ounce of speed and talent he could summon.


    “With a couple of years of solid training, I could make you something truly special with the sword. Of course…” Amalia trailed off as if thinking, “You’d still pale in comparison to anyone who could use elar. Which is just about everyone I would say.” If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Ash gave voice to his rage, bellowing, he increased the ferocity of his attack.


    Not once did she appear to move, and yet Ash just couldn’t hit her. He kept at it for a little while longer, but eventually, the futility of it fell upon him like a boulder, and he slumped.


    “Not a bad effort, but you were doomed to fail at the start. It’s my elar, you see. I can brush aside your attacks with a little effort. Even should you reach bronze rank, you’d not be able to lay a single blow upon me.”


    Amalia walked past him, heading back to the fire. She paused, turning to speak over her shoulder.


    “I have the answers you seek, but I will provide them on my terms. There is nothing you can do to force them out of me. You have but two choices, adhere to my terms, or give up on any chance of finding the information you seek.”


    She walked away.


    Ash didn’t follow.


    She was right. He didn’t have a choice but to go along with her wishes. He did have a choice in the attitude he chose to have about it. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to be sullen.


    But it would get him nowhere doing that. Instead, even if he lost, and kept loosing, he would keep training. If he would be forced to go without magic until he acquired a dragon, then he would be the best he could be without magic.


    Even with that thought burning within his mind, it was sometime before he returned to the fire.


    _____________


    Training continued over the next few days. In the morning they would eat, then do grueling excersizes. After that was weapons training, which for all of them but Nick meant using the sword. Amalia would have them try and use their elar here, as well.


    Surprisingly, everyone but Ash was a natural at this, improving all the time.


    Then they would spend the evening talking geography, history or other such topic before meditating, finding their elan.


    Ash couldn’t do anything with his elan and elar. He tried to anyway, which earned him nothing but frustration. The gap was ever present. He just couldn’t reach across it.


    So he threw himself into sword training.


    He lost there, too. Everyone regularly beat him now. No one looked very pleased when they won against him. That made it worse, of course. He could see the pity in Rosalia’s eyes, and Will grimaced slightly every time he flourished his blade after knocking Ash to the ground.


    Even Nick grunted, walking away with him without any kind of celebration in his eyes.


    All of them clearly felt like they were fighting the equivalent of a cripple.


    Despite this, Ash did feel like he was improving. The ingrained sense of rightness he experienced while holding the blade only intensified, and he found himself noticing flaws in his form without even being told by Amalia.


    She was a constant presence, but Ash didn’t find her to be a very good teacher.


    She knew her stuff, there was no denying that. She was so far ahead of them that any correction offered went leagues in improving them.


    But her teaching lacked any passion. Make a mistake, it was corrected, deliver the wrong answer, corrected. Every explanation was matter of fact, given with no emotional inflection.


    There was little in the way of encouragement. If you got it right, Amalia said nothing. Ash felt like she just expected you to get it right, and it was only worth speaking to fix what you got wrong.


    At the end of the week, the group gathered up there things, and finally, they departed for Brilehaven.


    _____________


    Brilehaven was a coastal village, mostly made up of fisherman and their families. The stench of the sea stained the air, and fishing boats drifted lazily on the shining blue water. There was a market square with people selling their wares, but a sense of unease hung over the village.


    Ash heard hushed, fearful whispers from men, and women alike. Children dashed through the streets, singing a rhyme and laughing,


    “By the shore where waters gleam,


    Sally sings her shadowed dream.


    Step too close, and you’ll beware,


    Her claws will catch you in the air.”


    Will raised an eyebrow, adjusting his shirt.


    “Why do I feel like I just stumbled into a bit of foreshadowing? I don’t like being apart of foreshadowing, not at all.”


    Amalia checked them into an inn after pulling a notice on brown parchment from the notice board. Amalia got her own room, of course, and so too did Rosalia. Ash, Nick, and Will shared one larger room.


    When they were settled in, they all met downstairs for dinner around a big table, the portly innkeeper serving up a hearty stew.


    Amalia placed the notice in the center of the table.


    “Now then children, it is time we discuss monsters.”