How Do You Guys Do That!?

"There you are," said Kabhathea. "What were you two doing, taking a dip in the bath!? When the bell rings ten means when the bell rings ten!"

"It's my fault," I said, panting. "We took a wrong turn." In reality, it may have been more like eight or nine wrong turns, but...

"Well, hurry along, and don't make me wait again," she said. Then, she squinted, scrutinizing my body. "...Oh? You are unblemished?"

I gave her a puzzled look. I was sure she wasn't complimenting me on the clarity of my skin... right?

Kabhathea gestured to my shoulder, whose skin was exposed by the vest-like uniform we had been made to wear. "You were not bruised by our training earlier?"

"That was me," said Marigold, lifting her staff in indication of its relevance.

"You mean this is the result of your 'magic?'" Kabhathea asked. "Estille saw potential in this. What exactly can it do?"

Marigold hesitated. I figured she was reluctant to share much information. Estille's tale of Ariel's betrayal had proven that the gods were susceptible to the element of surprise, so if we were to be pitted against them, any knowledge we held that they lacked could certainly have been of value. Kabhathea's eyes narrowed, and Marigold sighed. "It's a natural power," she said, giving in to the pressure. "We don't know exactly where it comes from, but if you channel that power..." She shoved her staff down into the sandy floor of the arena, kicking up a dusty vortex that floated around her and swirled in an impressively complex pattern. "...you can control things. I have to warn you, though—it has its limitations."

"That's an understatement," I said.

Marigold glared at me, and with a flick of her staff the hovering sand was sent streaming into my chest.

"Ow! Hey!" At least she didn't shoot it at my face.

Kabhathea smirked. "Interesting. And it can heal?"

"It can," said Marigold.

"What else?"

"It's pretty open-ended, but we mostly use it for healing, protection, and finding lost belongings. It's not really for hurting people, if that's what you're after," Marigold said, tapping her heel impatiently.

"Don't act like you know me," Kabhathea snapped. "I do value strength, but that isn't all. We Commanders are strategists—philosophers of war. Strong defense and support are the sustenance of a military force; without them, even the most skilled knight will starve and fall." Marigold just stared blankly. By this point, the other two knights present in the arena had stopped sparring and were watching us inquisitively. One of them approached Kabhathea.

"Master," he said. "Forgive me, but who are these people?"

"Ah, yes," Kabhathea said. "I had planned to introduce you, but their tardiness complicated things. They don't know their place yet." We had arrived at the barracks two days prior—or at least what felt like two days. I was able to confirm there was no sun or moon in this world, and the passage of time was only perceptible in the bell that tolled each "period" and our own internal clocks. Conveniently, the people here had similar needs to ours: food, water, sleep, and so on, and so the main trouble was simply adjusting to the culture and the position therein into which we had been thrust. But yes, when we arrived—there was no formal introduction. The other knights were just told "here are some new trainees" and that was all. I supposed the gods were, like me, trying to avoid causing unrest involving our relation to Ariel, so I was quite taken aback when Kabhathea nonchalantly revealed that information to the other knights. Surprisingly, though, their reaction was rather reserved.

"Is it OK to just tell people that?" I said.

Kabhathea turned to face me. "For you? I wouldn't recommend it. You don't know what you're doing. I do. These two are my most skilled and trusted knights. And, they're going to be your sparring partners for the foreseeable future, so it's best they know." I groaned internally. I thought this extra training was for underachievers! How could I possibly hold my own against these guys? If they were anything like Kabhathea or Estille, there was going to be a lot of pain in my future.

Kabhathea introduced the two knights. First, there was Ynwe. His build was actually not so intimidating—he was about the same height as me and seemed to be about the same weight as well. I could not tell his age, for any superficial hints to it were obscured by a layer of light gray fur that coated his vulpine form. He was very polite, even bowing to us, and I wondered how it was possible for him to face us with so little prejudice.

The other knight was named Far, and it was a fitting name, for she was certainly more standoffish than Ynwe. Her skin was not furry like his, but instead seemed to be made up of many fine fibers that followed the contours of her limbs, neck, and so on. She was very thin, maybe moreso than Marigold, so I thought that her strength must have come from somewhere other than her musculature. Perhaps she drew on another power, or maybe her technique and intelligence were of such high prowess that they made up for her relative frailty. She had short, shaggy, black hair on her head and very large ears—almost like a sartil's—that twitched when Kabhathea spoke her name.

"I am curious," said Ynwe. "You two are very strange to us. Please, let us share in a proper conversation later." I looked at Marigold to gauge her reaction. At first, she appeared apprehensive, but when she noticed my expectant gaze, her expression dissolved into a shrug of resignation.

"We, too, are curious," I said. "Estille promised us knowledge in exchange for our service, but we have still learned little of this world and its people. I am glad to meet someone who approaches us so earnestly... Let us share in that conversation, indeed."

Ynwe smiled. "Excellent! Will you join us, Far?" Her ears perked up, and she glanced at me. Her face was hard to read. She didn't answer. 

Kabhathea cleared her throat, and we all went stiff. "Enjoying yourselves?" she said.

"Yes, Master!" Ynwe said with total sincerity. Far lowered her head. Marigold seemed unsure what to do and just stood there staring straight ahead. Slowly, I faced Kabhathea, wincing.

"Sh-shall we train, then?" I said, hoping the answer would be "no" but knowing, of course, that it would be "yes."

So, we trained. I was paired with Ynwe, and Marigold with Far. In Ynwe's hands, a training sword appeared, and he assumed a low stance, waiting for me to draw my own blade.

"How do you guys do that?" I said. "You bring these weapons out from nowhere..."

"It's a simple emanation," Ynwe replied. "Even this sort of thing is foreign to you? You truly are a stranger, Godwin."

"Emanation... I have heard of it, but I do not fully understand it. Is it something I could do, too? Or, is such a power of creation the right of gods alone?"

Ynwe smiled. "Gods? I am no god."

"You aren't?"

"No. As to whether you are able, you very well may be. Marigold's magic seems to work differently, but if such a power were honed to perfection..." He glanced over at Kabhathea, keenly aware of her watchful eye. "Well, we can discuss this later. For now, take this." Another wooden sword appeared in his other hand, and he tossed it to me. I examined it closely, but it really was just plain old wood. Questions, questions... there would be much to ask Ynwe later.

On the other side of the arena, Far and Marigold were already sparring, and I chuckled at how obvious it was that Far was holding back. She practically wasn't even moving, and was still managing to block every attack and strike back with ease. I thought it a bit unfair that Marigold was not allowed to use her staff in this training, instead being forced to take up the sword like the rest of us, but it seemed that this was a requirement. I could understand, in a way; it was like arithmetic—a basis for more advanced and varied study. In this case, swordplay was a means to building up a strong physique and improving one's mindfulness and dexterity. Besides, even with her staff, firing off sand at me seemed to be about the limit of Marigold's offensive capability. Despite fumbling around with the sword, it at least had greater potential.

"Focus, Godwin," said Ynwe. "You must narrow the aperture of your mind. See only your opponent." I looked at him and drew in a deep breath. Right. I would give it my all. Ynwe's affability was a powerful motivator—I saw a real possibility for friendship there, and I didn't want to embarrass myself. Breathing out slowly, I readied my blade.