Chương 114: Chapter 15: A Name Among Us - Part I

Kaelen POV By the time I return to the Grove, the afternoon has already begun to soften into evening, and the familiar sight of the Heartwoods rising above the garden paths brings with it a sense of relief that I hadn't realized I was carrying. The Hollowmane walks beside me rather than ahead this time, occasionally brushing against my leg whenever something catches its attention, and I find myself watching it with a little more curiosity than before.

The appraisal has changed nothing about the creature in front of me, yet knowing what the stone had revealed makes every movement seem slightly different, as though I am now looking at something I had only partially understood before. The Grove is quieter than the city, as it always is, and I can hear Aibell speaking with Merrow near the herb beds while Ciara sits beneath the shade of one of the Heartwoods with Aine beside her.

Eammon is nearby, occupied with something that appears to involve a stick, several stones and far more concentration than the task deserves. Garrick and Elyrion are standing farther beneath the Silverwood, speaking quietly, while Lorcan is seated near the edge of the garden with a book open across his lap. Lorcan notices me first, "You're back."

"I am." His eyes move toward the Hollowmane, and I notice the brief flicker of curiosity that crosses his expression, "You went to the Guild."

"Yes." Aibell looks over from the herb beds, "What for?" I glance at her, "I had a few things to take care of first."

"Such as?"

"The contract payment."

"And?"

"The appraisal." That gets everyone's attention. Lorcan closes his book, "Your appraisal?" I nod.

"I've been meaning to ask what happened when you returned. You disappeared into the Guild for longer than I expected." I walk toward them, and the Hollowmane follows without hesitation before settling beneath the nearest Heartwood, "The stone showed me more than I expected." Aibell wipes her hands against her apron and comes closer, "Was it bad?"

"No."

"Good?"

"I'm not sure." She raises an eyebrow, "That sounds encouraging." I smile faintly, "It was simply different from what I expected." Garrick and Elyrion have stopped speaking now, their attention turned toward me, and I realize that none of them knows anything about what happened inside that room. I take a breath, "The appraisal measures several things. Mana capacity, mana control, health, physical strength, agility, endurance and willpower, along with magical affinity." Lorcan nods slowly, "And your class?"

"Grovekeeper." A small silence follows. Aibell smiles, "That seems appropriate."

"It does." I look down at my hands.

"Most of the measurements were within the Iron range, although my willpower is higher than that." Garrick's expression changes slightly, "How much higher?"

"Silver." He nods, apparently satisfied by the answer, "And your affinities?"

"Earth is my primary affinity, with Water as my secondary." Elyrion's eyes narrow slightly in thought, "And the special affinity?"

"Nature." That earns a quiet silence from the group. Lorcan's expression softens, "That explains more than you might realize."

"I thought it might." I look toward the Silverwood, "Apparently, the combination of the two allows the special affinity to manifest." Elyrion nods, "That is generally how it works."

"Generally?" He closes the distance between us by a few steps.

"Special affinities are not usually inherited in a simple manner. The primary and secondary affinities of an individual determine what possibilities exist, but the result can vary." I consider that.

"So, someone with the same primary affinity could develop something completely different."

"Yes."

"The secondary affinity matters."

"Very much." Lorcan closes his book completely, "That is one reason magical affinities are more complicated than most people assume." I glance toward him, "There's more?"

"There is always more." Aibell laughs quietly, "I think you've just discovered that asking Lorcan a question is dangerous."

"I've noticed." Lorcan ignores her, "Two people can possess the same primary affinity while having different secondary affinities, and that difference can completely change what special affinity they are capable of developing." I nod slowly, "So, the special affinity isn't simply another element."

"No. It is the result of how the two basic affinities interact." I glance toward Elyrion, "Then my Nature affinity comes from Earth and Water."

"Yes." That makes sense. The Grove has always felt like an extension of something inside me, and perhaps this is simply another way of describing the connection I have always felt between soil, water and living things. Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Aibell looks toward the Hollowmane, "And what about it?" I follow her gaze, "It got appraised too." Her eyebrows rise, "You got it appraised?"

"It climbed onto the appraisal stone before I could stop it." Garrick laughs quietly, "Of course it did." I crouch beside the cub and run a hand along its mane, "The stone identified it as a juvenile Hollowmane. Its mana capacity, control, health, strength, endurance and willpower are all within the Copper range, but its agility is already at Iron." Garrick looks down at it, "That explains the forest."

"Apparently." I continue, "Its primary affinity is Wind." Elyrion nods immediately, "That isn't surprising." I look at him, "Why?"

"Hollowmanes are naturally inclined toward Wind. Most members of the species possess it as their dominant affinity." Lorcan adds, "The secondary affinity is where things become more interesting." I glance back at the cub, "Lightning." Elyrion studies it for a moment, "That can vary."

"Between Hollowmanes?"

"Between individuals of almost any magical species." Lorcan nods, "A species will often have a common primary affinity, but the secondary affinity can differ from one individual to another. That difference is important because the two affinities interact when a special affinity develops."

"So, two Hollowmanes could have the same Wind affinity but develop different special affinities."

"Exactly." I look at the cub again, "And this one hasn't developed one."

"Not yet," Elyrion says. I glance at him.

"Could it eventually?"

"Certainly."

"Because of the Lightning affinity?"

"Among other things." Lorcan's gaze shifts toward the cub, "It is still young. There is no reason to assume its affinities have finished settling into their final form." I nod slowly. The appraisal had shown Special Affinity: Undetermined, but hearing it explained this way makes the result feel less like a deficiency and more like an unfinished story.

"What about its potential?" Lorcan's eyes narrow slightly, "You didn't mention that." I smile, "Silver." That gets a reaction. Garrick looks down at the cub again, "Silver potential?"

"That's what the stone said." For a few moments, nobody speaks. The Hollowmane, apparently unconcerned by the significance of any of this, stretches beneath the Heartwood and settles its head upon its forepaws. Aibell looks at it, "Silver." I nod, "Apparently." She smiles faintly, "Perhaps we should stop calling it the cub." I glance at her, "What else would we call it?" She looks toward the creature, "I don't know." Eammon, who has been listening from nearby, immediately looks up, "I know." I turn toward him.

He grins, "I have a name." The Hollowmane lifts its head. For the first time since I returned, everyone's attention shifts away from what the appraisal stone revealed and toward the much simpler problem of what we are actually going to call the creature.

Garrick POV By the time Kaelen leaves for the Adventurer's Guild, Elyrion has already taken me beneath the Silverwood and begun the day's training, which means I have little opportunity to wonder whether the guild will appraise Kaelen today and what the appraisal will reveal before he decides that standing around thinking about it is a better use of my time than actually training.

"Again." I tighten my grip around the sword and raise it. Elyrion stands several paces away, watching me with the same patient expression he has worn throughout these sessions. There is no visible strain in his posture, no sign that he is exerting himself in any way, and yet I have already learned that whenever he looks at me like that, I am probably about to discover another thing I am doing wrong. I take a breath and allow the mana to settle. Not force it. That was the first lesson.

I had spent years treating strength as something that came from muscle, discipline and experience, and when Elyrion first told me to feel the mana within myself, my instinct had been to command it in the same way I commanded my body. That had gone about as well as expected. The more I tried to force the mana into the shape I wanted, the more it resisted, until I finally understood that the problem wasn't the mana. It was me.

I let my breathing settle and reach inward, searching for the familiar current beneath everything else. It is still faint compared to what I imagine it will become, but I no longer need to search for it for long. The sensation is becoming easier to recognize with each session, and once I find it, I guide it toward my arms rather than dragging it there. The difference is small. It is also everything. Mana gathers around my muscles, spreading through them without the painful pressure I felt during my first attempts.

My grip tightens around the sword as the blade seems to become lighter in my hand. Elyrion nods.

"Better." I step forward. My sword moves through the first form, then the second, and I allow the mana to follow the movement rather than trying to make it lead. The blade cuts through empty air with greater speed than before, and when I complete the final motion, I feel the mana settle instead of scattering through my body. Elyrion's expression remains calm, "Again." I stare at him, "That was better."

"It was."

"And now I do it again."

"Until you can do it without thinking." I sigh, "I was beginning to think you might eventually let me enjoy a successful attempt."

"Success is not the goal."

"Then what is?"

"Consistency." Of course. I reset my stance. This time I don't think about the movement itself. I know the forms well enough that they no longer require conscious thought, so I concentrate on the mana instead, feeling it move through my body as I begin. The first strike is clean, the second follows naturally, and by the third I can feel the difference between the mana moving with me and the mana being carried along by the movement. It isn't stronger. Not yet. But it is more precise.

When I finish, Elyrion gives a small nod.

"Again." I laugh under my breath, "You really do enjoy that word."

"It is useful."

"I've noticed." I continue. The training changes slowly over the course of the afternoon, though the change is subtle enough that someone watching from outside might not notice it. Elyrion doesn't teach me a new technique or unleash some hidden power for me to imitate. Instead, he keeps returning me to the same basic movements, forcing me to repeat them until my body begins to understand what my mind is still trying to explain. At first, I find it frustrating. Then I begin to understand why.

A sword does not become sharper because its wielder swings it harder. The same seems to be true of mana. I can force more of it into my limbs, but that doesn't mean I can control what happens afterward. If I want to use it in a fight, I need to be able to move, strike and react without having to stop and think about where every thread of mana should go. That realization changes the way I approach the next exercise. Elyrion draws his own sword. I straighten, "You finally decided to make this interesting?"

"I decided you are ready to try something else." He raises his blade, "Attack me." I hesitate, "You've been telling me to control my mana."

"And now you will learn to control it while someone is trying to hit you." I smile despite myself, "That sounds considerably less pleasant."

"It is." He moves. I barely get my sword up in time. The impact travels through my arm and forces me half a step backward, but instead of fighting the pressure with muscle alone, I allow mana to reinforce my stance. My feet settle more firmly into the ground, and when Elyrion pulls his blade away, I follow the movement rather than waiting for him to attack again. I strike. He turns my blade aside. I recover and swing again, guiding mana through my shoulder and down my arm as I move.

The strike is faster than it would have been without it, but Elyrion still redirects it with ease, "Don't force it."

"I wasn't."

"You were." I grit my teeth. He attacks again. This time I move before I think. My body shifts to the side, my sword intercepting his, and I feel the mana respond to the movement almost instinctively. The contact lasts only a moment before I redirect his blade and step back into position. Elyrion pauses. I do too.

"That," he says. I look at him, "What?"

"You didn't think about it." I glance at my sword, "I just moved."

"Exactly." Something about the way he says it makes me understand that this is what he has been trying to teach me from the beginning. Not how to make mana stronger. Not how to make it obey. How to make it part of me. I lower the sword slightly.

"Again?" Elyrion nods. This time, when he attacks, I meet him without hesitation. The exchange lasts longer than the previous ones, and although he still controls the fight completely, I can feel something changing each time our blades meet. Mana no longer feels like an unfamiliar force that I have to drag into place. It is becoming something I can reach for without losing the rhythm of the fight, something that moves when I move and strengthens the actions I already know how to perform.

When Elyrion finally lowers his sword, I am breathing harder than he is. He looks at me for several moments, "You are beginning to understand." I wipe the sweat from my forehead, "I thought that was the point."

"It is." He sheathes his sword, "But understanding is not mastery."

"I assumed there would be another lesson."

"There always is." I laugh quietly. The sun has begun to lower beyond the canopy, and the light filtering through the leaves has taken on a warmer hue. I look toward the distant entrance of the Grove, wondering whether Kaelen has returned from the Guild yet, and for a moment I find myself thinking about what the appraisal might have shown him. Then I look back at Elyrion, "So, what now?" He studies me before answering, "Now you do it again tomorrow." I stare at him, "Of course."

A faint smile appears on his face, "Until your sword and your mana stop feeling like two different things." I look down at the weapon in my hand. For the first time since this training began, I can almost imagine that happening. I sheath the sword and look toward the Silverwood as the last light of the afternoon filters through its branches. Tomorrow, I will try again. And perhaps, one day, I will finally understand what it means to become a Groveknight.