The Second Domain

It was a little past ten when the two of them returned to the Cloister. Gideon was still laughing, even as the sweat plastered his hair to his face and his clothes to his body. Simon was doing no such thing. The first step he took through the gate was his last as he collapsed on to the ground, panting desperately for a modicum of air.

"Well done Gideon, you hurried him up quite a bit. Less than four hours this time." Orion clapped a hand on his shoulder, already having forgotten his promise from earlier in the day. "I don't like being the one to say it, but I think you may have pushed him a bit too far this time. I've seen fish breathing easier than him."

"Oh he'll be fine. I gave him plenty of chances to rest along the way, he's just overreacting a bit. Watch, he'll be good as new in a few minutes. Might need some water though. Either way, that's my job done, take good care of him for me!" Gideon waved lazily behind him as he jaunted away, not bothering to look back.

"Damn kid. Hallsteel my ass." Orion muttered violently under his breath, before looking toward Simon again.

Simon had flipped over on to his back, arms and legs splayed wide in defeat. He coughed and tried to pass what little sound he could through his dried out throat. "Water...please..."

Orion crossed his arms as one of his priests kneeled down and began to feed Simon from a waterskin. He couldn't help but feel a little bad for him after all this. Simon had really been serious when he volunteered himself to this endless training, even as he dismissed it as empty words. Orion had seen him run through those gates, exhausted and barely able to stand day after day, and each time he'd move right on to magic training, as if that was any better. Simon had been pushing his mind and body to the limit.

"Listen kid, Sonia'll be here sooner rather than later. Drink up while you can, and don't be shy. I have a feeling she'll be pushing you hard today. You'll need every last damn bit of energy you can get."

Simon didn't hesitate to listen, grabbing hold of the waterskin and chugging until he began to choke, only to repeat the act again moments later. The waterskin was dry within a minute, thrown to the floor beside him only to be replaced with another. With Simon seeming well on his way to recovery, Orion decided it would be best to leave him to it. Stern words could wait today.

Sonia arrived later than expected. Usually she was waiting for him less than ten minutes after his arrival, either that or immediately after the end of his swordsmanship lessons, evidently she didn't feel those were tiring enough to be afforded a rest over. Nonetheless, Simon was thankful this time, he wasn't sure that he would have been able to stand if he'd had any time less than an hour to recover.

By now his breath had steadied and he'd been given a chance to clean off his face with splashes of cold water. While his legs did burn, and spasmed worryingly here and there, he felt much better, though he still wasn't sure he could cast any sort of magic in his exhausted state.

Instead, Sonia shouted orders to the rest of the men, ordering them out of the training grounds. The men didn't hesitate, running up the stairs and out of sight faster than they surely had any reason to.

Sonia's eyes seemed harsh today. Simon imagined she was still somewhat irate after whatever had happened yesterday.

"You may be wondering why we're back in the training yard today, and no it is not a punishment. Instead it's a reward. After how effortlessly you mastered the next tier of information magic yesterday, I felt it was best we try something different. Today you'll be attempting to cast spacial magic." She threw a wooden sword at his feet.

"You won't need to stand up for this. The idea is simple. You need to move that sword at your feet into your hand. There are many ways you can achieve this, I leave how entirely up to you. Spacial magic is our main form of offence, therefore, it is integral that you try to master it now that you are at this level."

"Please, could I just have another thirty minutes? I can do it. I'm certain. I just need to rest a bit longer. My head's still rushing with blood and I won't be able to manage my breathing. I need to so I can cast."

Sonia looked at him apologetically, clearly feeling guilty for the level of training he was being put through, but the look only lasted a moment. Instead her face hardened and she shook her head.

"Not today. This is the ideal situation for this training. This magic is used in combat, you will certainly be exhausted beyond belief, your limbs may be on fire and your muscles shred to ribbons, but the enemy will not wait. Now try to bring that sword to you."

Simon rebelled internally, he wanted to show her he wasn't a tool, that he was human and had his limits too, yet for some reason the thought of disappointing her weighed more heavily than his exhaustion.

Slowly Simon sat himself upright, steadying his breathing the best he could and lifting his eyes to meet the sword. It was heavily chipped and damaged, barely fit to be used as a weapon, but he supposed that wouldn't matter. He reached his hand out for the weapon, designating where he would have it land.

Even as the blood rushed against his ears he tried to quiet his mind, drowning the torrent out as white noise. Drowning it out like the sound of his breathing, the people outside the gate, or the cries of the birds above. He kept his eyes open this time and repeated his process from before, willing the sword to rise into his hand. Finalising his now practiced process, he searched for the moment and ordered the magic to obey.

Unfortunately, the sword didn't move, it stayed as inert on the ground as a stone. Simon tried again, repeating the process that he had come to see as so reliable. He though he'd seen the sword wobble slightly once, yet he couldn't convince himself it was a trick of his imagination.

"That's enough." Sonia called out. "Why don't you tell me the idea you were issuing through the magic?"

Simon was frustrated, he was exhausted and only draining himself more with every failure. He'd tried his practiced methods multiple times, he was just simply too tired. 

"I told it to raise the sword into my hand! I did everything exactly the same way I did it before. I'm just too tired Sonia, I need a rest. Listen to me!"

"We do not have control over our circumstances Simon. Nor do we have control over all forms of magic. Tell me, would you consider the sword raising into your hand an act of spacial manipulation? I will not tell you it is impossible, but I am certain it will serve you no good at your current level."

"The sword need not travel to you, it must simply reach you."

Simon's anger dulled, the poignancy of her point striking home as they often did. His exhaustion did not lessen to any degree, and his focus would near reach its zenith as he was now, but that did not necessarily mean his failure. His entire study of magic had been a series of trial and error, iterating and reiterating on ideas time and time again until it coalesced and pulled at his very mind. This was just another, and arguably simpler form of that, a reminder of the very first mistake he had made.

He reorganised himself, finding a comfortable sitting position yet again, and brining his mind out of the pain and exhaustion once again, honing it once more to see within itself. The blade would be brought to his hand. The idea materialised, a brief turbulence in his calming sea of thoughts, before fading away into its depths. His breathing slowed again, an unconscious acknowledgement of anticipation, a sign signalling for the magic to unleash itself. It did not come immediately. The surface of the sea began to tremble with a quiet tension, but he refused to let it break. Then it all exploded at once, the tug was different this time, it pulled at a different part of his mind, a uniquely foreign sensation. Rather than a tug, it might best have been described as a whip, lashing out and pulling him forward.

In amongst the other sensations came one more vivid and real than the others, the grain of wood in his hand, its weight pulling his arm down with it. The space between the two of them had fractured and been erased, a blurred ripple in the air the only indication of its passing. 

Simon grinned deliriously and raised his head toward Sonia. Or at least he thought he did. For some reason it was getting quite dark so he couldn't quite tell.