Caracara's Hunt 52 Nightime Training

"Focus!" Corwal said while hitting him on the head with the scroll he was holding. "I'm not gonna repeat myself a thousand times."

Arawn ma.s.saged the 'damaged area' as if it really hurt and let go of his dream. One day it might become true, but for the time being, he had to learn to become a functioning human being. There were still plenty of things that didn't make any sense to him.

Although Corwal said he wouldn't repeat himself, he did it again and again. While addition and subtraction were still within the bounds of understanding, multiplication and division were something that didn't make any sense. Well, they did, but Arawn had a hard time wrapping his head around the two concepts.

And when he finally managed it, he had to do calculations that left his mind spinning. Half the time he was only guessing the answers. Corwal always noticed that, and the look of pity in his eyes would push Arawn to try harder. He wasn't pitiful! Nor was he an imbecile!

Once the sun set, Corwal told Arawn to materialize some ether to light the room. "You've got more of it," he explained. "It's not like you'll even notice the loss."

That was only partially true. Using ether was simple, but it didn't stay materialized for long—a couple seconds, and it would blink out of existence. This meant that Arawn had to keep a portion of his mind on constant watch. It had to materialize ether to light the room every couple seconds without making a break in the sequence or else the room would be plunged into darkness now and then.

With that, all the counting got even harder, and the room went black more than once. Corwal didn't say anything, just waiting for him to regain his focus and bring the light back. Once he did so, he would repeat the numbers he had to multiply or divide.

By the time they finished, Arawn felt like an undead. If last time his brain had melted into mush, then this time it was no better than a thin broth. There was nothing in his head, absolutely nothing. He dropped onto his bed, ready to sleep for at least a couple centuries.

The next morning, even the bright morning sun s.h.i.+ning through the window didn't manage to wake him up. He slept through breakfast and lunch. If not for Corwal shaking his shoulder, he probably would have skipped dinner as well.

"It's not the right season for hibernation," he said while placing something on the desk.

Arawn heard the metallic thump, but his mind was too dead for curiosity. He had slept the day away, and yet he still felt like it wasn't enough. If he got a few more hours, maybe…

The smell of roasted pork and mashed potatoes reached his nostrils. He tried to cover his head with a blanket, but it was too late. His stomach growled, announcing its demand for food.

With a groan, Arawn rolled over and glared at Corwal. "Why would you do that?" he asked in a hoa.r.s.e voice, barely able to keep his eyes open.

"I'm not gonna turn into an owl just for you. Eat and let's get outside. You need to practice ether as well."

Arawn refused that suggestion, hiding himself back under the blanket, but soon, he was forced out by his own stomach. The tantalizing smell in the air kept gnawing at him, making his insides rumble louder and louder.

"You're disgusting," he muttered under his breath and rose from the bed with the blanket around himself. All the papers on the desk from the day before had been pushed to the side, and an almost cold meal was in front of the chair. The dishes had been steaming hot when Corwal brought them, but Arawn had taken his sweet time to roll out of bed.

"And five-year-olds are more grown up than you."

The food was too important to waste time on an argument. Arawn grabbed the roasted pork with his hand and tried to grab some of the mashed potatoes with the other, but only picked up a few scatterings. He couldn't understand why someone would turn potatoes into mush, making it a thousand times more complicated to eat them.

Noticing his annoyance, Corwal picked up a fork lying by the side and hit Arawn's head with the back of it. "That's another thing you should learn. People eat with forks, knives, and spoons. So far, you've been acting like a savage, but it's about time you left that behind."

Arawn looked at the metal tools with distrust. He'd seen Corwal use them in the inns, but he thought it was some weird habit of his instead of a convention among all humans. Yet when he tried to remember other people, all of them seemed to use those metal things. Even Rain had used them.

"What's wrong with hands?" he asked while putting down the meat back onto the plate.

"You get dirty. Your hands become greasy, stained, and require you to wash them later. If you eat with a fork and knife, your hands remain clean." Corwal shrugged. "It's something everyone does. This convention at least makes some sense while other things you'll just have to learn and not question them."

The food his stomach demanded was right before Arawn, but he willed himself to stay strong. He asked Corwal how one ate with the fork and knife and tried to mimic the actions. His own movements were ruff and awkward, but he managed to skewer the pork and cut it up. Picking up the mashed potatoes became a lot easier as well.

After that ordeal, Arawn was forced to comb his hair again, since he hadn't gotten a chance to cut it yet. This took another lifetime, so by the time they left the inn, it was late evening already. The sun was low, hiding behind the tree tops.

"What are we going to do?" Arawn asked as they walked past the town's gate.

The guards gave them a look, but didn't say anything. It seemed that they were used to people coming and going at all hours of the day.

"You're horrible at duelling. If I was any of those three men, I'd be scarred for life. To be defeated by such an amateur is a shame they'll never live down."

"I can't be that bad," Arawn disagreed. "I won against all of them!"

Corwal nodded. "Which makes it only worse."

They left the road to enter the forest, and Corwal found an animal path. It wasn't much, and branches kept on snagging at their clothes. In a little bit though, they reached a small clearing.

An elk was grazing there. Upon noticing them, it bolted away like all of the beasts from h.e.l.l were after it. A few magpies rose into the sky, warning the whole forest of intruders. In a few moments, there were no more any animals in the vicinity.

Not caring about it, Corwal went to the middle of the clearing and pulled out his sword. "All you know how to do is throw ether blades around, but as you saw in the Challenge, anyone with a bit of skill can avoid them. They're deadly, but predictable."

"But you said I'm still far away from using the elements," Arawn murmured. He knew he wasn't great, but there wasn't much he could do about it. He was still at the stage of holding the ether at his fingertips.

"You are, and very, very far away, but you're forgetting something—you've got ether, the source of all magic. It may not be as versatile as the elements, but it's not a blade and neither is it just blunt force."

Arawn walked forward as well while thinking about it. Ether was certainly not any tool that could be made from metal. It had no shape or form, unless one counted the white particles that existed in everything. Either way, it could become whatever one wished. Its form was not fixed, so the light could take any shape it wanted.

That was how Arawn had created his pathetic s.h.i.+elds. They worked, but a single hit would shatter them, since ether was not like iron or wood. It didn't have the inherent quality of st.u.r.diness. Instead, it was concentrated energy, which was how it could cut through anything.

"What you're trying to say is that I should use my imagination more."

"That too, but even with the few skills you have, you could be a lot deadlier. You're throwing the ether blades at random, without any thought behind what you're doing. Now, attack me."

Arawn called to ether on instinct, but let go of it almost the same moment. "What if I kill you?" He didn't want to add that to the ever growing list of his regrets.

"You really think you're capable?" Corwal asked with a raised eyebrow. "Seems like someone here is overestimating himself." He laughed and waved for Arawn to get on it with it. "If you can kill me, it means I've lived my life in vain and haven't learned a single thing."

He sounded confident, but Arawn didn't share it. Would it really be all right? Corwal was good, but he wasn't immortal. If he got hit, he would die just like any other person.

"Hurry up! It's already late."

Frowning, Arawn congealed an ether blade and sent it forward. Corwal rolled his eyes and didn't even bother to move. The ether blade hit the ground to the right of him, raising the dirt there.

"And that's why I said you're pathetic. You can't even aim straight."

"That's…"

It was because he had been aiming to the side. He couldn't actually attack the only person who had ever showed him kindness. Death would be a horrible way to repay that.

"Children," Corwal muttered and lunged forward. His blade caught the light of the evening sun, blinding Arawn.

As he looked away to protect his eyes, something hit him in the chest, sending him tumbling to the ground. Looking up, he saw Corwal standing above him with the pommel of his sword aimed forward.

It was the thing that had slammed into Arawn, and he rubbed his chest with a grimace. It really hurt. He was sure he would have a bruise.

"If you don't attack, I will. Let's see whose resolve runs out first," Corwal said while returning to the middle of the clearing.

He turned and s.h.i.+fted his hold on the sword. For a moment, he stayed still, waiting for an attack, but it didn't come. Arawn wasn't going to attack his friend. His power was simply too unstable. What if Corwal didn't manage to defend against it and bled to death in an unknown clearing in the middle of nowhere?

Corwal's next attack came without a warning. He simply dashed forward, his sword held in a reverse grip. Seeing it, Arawn tried to defend his chest, but Corwal only sneered at him. The man grabbed him by the shoulder and sent him tumbling to the ground. His sword hovered over Arawn's back for a fraction of a second, then he retreated.

Again and again, Corwal attacked without giving Arawn any respite. He was repeating his actions, always returning to the center and das.h.i.+ng forward, but the way he attacked was never the same. Arawn got intimately familiar with the ground beneath him as he was punched, thrown, and kicked down.

No matter how he tried to defend himself, Corwal always knew what he was going to do and was a step ahead of him. When he thought to raise his hand to defend his chest, he was attacked from behind. When he planned to not let that happen, his legs were kicked from underneath him. Once, even his long hair became the cause of his downfall.

At first, Arawn just took it, expecting it to stop soon enough. Yet even after the sun set and darkness shrouded the land, Corwal kept going at it. Whenever Arawn tried to speak, he was ignored. Only the command to attack was repeated from time to time.

Corwal came again, and Arawn lunged to the side, avoiding him. Overjoyed, he thought he had escaped, but a branch caught his foot. He went down face first, tasting the earth in his mouth.

His knees and hands throbbed. They had suffered most of the damage and were already bleeding. Crimson mixed with brown under the moonlight, and a fury disproportional to the last fall surged through Arawn.

Why did he have to go through all of this? They were friends, but he was not a toy, not an emotionless doll. He hurt when he was. .h.i.t, and his heart burned when he was attacked by a person he trusted.

"I don't have to suffer your abuse," he whispered, more to himself that Corwal.

Ether blazed to life around him, showering the clearing in cold white light. It revealed everything that the night had tried to hide, and Arawn thought he saw mockery in Corwal's gaze. It fueled the inferno raging within him.

He gathered more ether and threw it without a care at his friend. "You wanted to see how you'll deal against me, didn't you? Then have a taste!"

Over a dozen ether blades left Arawn's hands. Each one of them was aimed at Corwal, and they were so bright, they seemed to be the only things in existence at that moment. The moon even hid behind a cover of clouds in shame.