Paragon of Destruction

"Lord Ghostblade!"

Arran awoke with a start. When he opened his eyes he saw that the sky was still dark, but among the shadows surrounding the hot spring, Jovan’s burly figure could be seen.

"What is it?" Arran asked, still groggy with sleep.

"You said to wake you half an hour before dawn," the man’s voice came. "And you shouldn’t sleep in there. Might drown if you’re unlucky."

As Arran exited the hot spring and dried himself off, he asked, "Did you get any sleep tonight?"

"A few hours," Jovan replied, though his weary tone suggested otherwise. "Mansion’s just about done, though. Should be all ready when you return tonight."

Arran yawned as he stretched his body. "I suppose I might as well go now. It couldn’t hurt to be a bit early."

"Can’t train on an empty stomach," his steward said. "Eat something, first. I didn’t know what you like, so I had the cooks prepare you some different things."

That proved to be an understatement. Set out on a table in the gardens, Arran found a large buffet with over twenty different dishes, holding everything from grilled meat to freshly baked bread. There was enough to feed a dozen people, if not more.

With a glance at Jovan, he said, "While I appreciate the effort, I doubt I’ll be able to finish all of that."

Jovan grinned broadly. "Don’t need to worry about that. Anything you don’t want, me and the boys will deal with."

Arran ate his fill and then some, silently thanking the Matriarch’s mage for his choice of cooks as he tasted the food. Whatever else the months ahead would bring, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about going hungry.

He left the gardens a quarter-hour later, Jovan already hungrily eying what remained of the feast.

The walk to the Matriarch’s estate was a short one, and he arrived at the gate with time to spare. While the sky above the mountains to the east was already beginning to lighten, the sun had yet to rise.

Two guards stood guarding the gate, neither of whom Arran recognized. But they had clearly expected him, and as he approached, one of them asked, "Young master Ghostblade?"

Arran gave a nod in response, though not without noticing that neither of these guards appeared to be imperials or borderlanders. The Matriarch’s own servants, he guessed, would likely be members of the House of Seals.

The guard who had spoken quietly led Arran into the gardens surrounding the Matriarch’s mansion, guiding him to a vast clearing amid the trees. The moment they arrived, the man promptly turned around and headed off, leaving Arran behind.

The circular clearing was over a hundred paces across, its ground paved with heavy stones that looked old but not the least bit weathered. And surrounding it stood several buildings with thick walls and small windows, their design simple but sturdy.

There was no sign of the Matriarch yet, and Arran spent several minutes exploring the area. From what he could tell, these were training grounds, with both the open space and the buildings around it built to withstand powerful magic.

The Matriarch appeared some minutes later, wearing a simple brown robe similar to the one she had worn the previous day. Her gray hair was bound back, and although her expression seemed calm and friendly, Arran now recognized that there was an air of authority to it.

"Good, you’re here," she said. "Over the next few weeks, you will learn the contents of these amulets, and learn them well." She handed him two memory amulets. "Take a look."

He was taken aback by her brusque manner. While he hadn’t expected them to spend hours getting acquainted, he’d thought they would talk for at least a few minutes. But it seemed she wasn’t willing to waste even that much time.

Still, it didn’t matter. He was there to train, not to become her friend.

He hurriedly inspected the amulets, and as he did, his eyes went wide with shock. One described hundreds of spells, while the other described at least as many seals and formations.

Yet the brief flash of panic he felt faded a moment later as he inspected the spells and seals themselves. They were all exceedingly simple, almost ridiculously so. None seemed to be of much practical use, but he couldn’t find even a single one he wouldn’t be confident in performing himself.

"I can already do all of this," he said, brow creased in wonder. If the Matriarch wanted him to learn magic, this hardly seemed like a challenging start.

"I should hope so," she replied. "These are all children’s exercises. Your task, however, is not to perform them but to learn them. You will master them, memorize them, learn their strengths and weaknesses, and find ways to improve them."

She reached out and handed him another two memory amulets, which he quickly found were both empty, then continued, "And you will keep meticulous notes of everything you do and learn."

The panic Arran had felt earlier now returned in an instant. "I have to do that for each of these spells and seals? And I only have a few weeks?"

"Correct," the Matriarch said. "You lack the foundation that comes with proper training, but more importantly, you don’t know how to study. My first step will be to remedy that shortcoming. Now, let’s get to work."

The first spell they covered was one that sent a slight breeze across a distance of a few paces. As simple as it was useless, it only took Arran a single try to cast successfully.

Yet although Arran was satisfied with his effort, the Matriarch was unimpressed, and he spent half an hour casting it over and over again before she was finally satisfied.

That was only the start of it, however, as he found himself spending the hour that followed meticulously studying the spell, analyzing every single strand of Essence it contained and recording the results in one of the two empty memory amulets.

"That will do, for now," the Matriarch finally said. "Next, we will try a formation."

Another hour passed as Arran went through the same steps again, this time learning and analyzing a seal whose only purpose was not to fall apart. He found the seal easier to dissect than the spell, though only slightly so.

While finding its weaknesses barely took him a single breath, the Matriarch insisted that he learn every last detail of the seal, while also recording everything he found in the remaining empty memory amulet.

Half the morning had already passed by the time Arran finished his work on the seal, and already, he felt exhausted. He was unused to this type of focus, and maintaining it for hours on end took no small toll on his mind.

"I have matters to attend to," the Matriarch announced when he finished. "You are to continue your work here. I will check in on you occasionally to review your progress."

Arran took a brief pause to rest after she left, but then quickly set to work again. Weary though he was, he knew the day was still far from over.

In the hours that followed, he slowly made his way through the first few spells and seals described in the memory amulets.

His progress was painfully slow, but worse was that each time the Matriarch appeared, it suffered a setback. Because whenever she inspected his work, she made him redo any parts of it that did not meet her standards.

And her standards, he found, were far from lenient.

Other than a small break to eat at midday, Arran worked without pause until nightfall, his progress slowly improving as he grew more used to the unfamiliar type of practice. And as he grew more used to it, he began to see the merits of the Matriarch’s methods.

Studying spells with this level of care yielded an understanding far beyond what he would gain from simply casting them. And while these spells were simple enough that the difference barely made a difference, he suspected that using the same method on real spells would have greater effects — albeit at the cost of spending much more time in learning.

Still, he was glad when night came and the Matriarch returned once more. The day had been long and tiring, and he was eager to see it end.

"You did well," the Matriarch said after she inspected his work of the previous hour. "As I suspected, your current state owes more to a lack of instruction than it does to a lack of talent. Given sufficient time and training, you might find yourself surprised at your achievements."

Arran smiled in relief, glad to find that the training was nowhere near as harsh as he had feared. "Then I’ll continue at dawn tomorrow?"

The Matriarch shook her head. "Dao Liang Jie — Brightblade — insisted that you continue your training with your old teachers. The next two days, you’ll spend the mornings training with your teachers from the House of Swords. I expect you back here at midday."

"All right," Arran replied cheerfully. The teachers in question, he guessed, would be Doran and Master Kallias, and a morning of training with them would be a welcome break from studying spells and seals.

"For now," the Matriarch continued, "finish your work here, then return to your mansion."

"Finish my work?" Arran looked at the gray-haired woman in confusion. As far as he could tell, he was all done for the day.

"You have done well today," the Matriarch said, "but you aren’t finished yet. You are to finish work on a dozen spells and seals each. After that, you can return to your mansion."

"A dozen each?" Arran stared at the woman in disbelief. "But that will take me all night!"

"Then I suggest you work faster," she replied flatly. Then, without any further words, she turned around and left.

As the Matriarch disappeared into the shadows, Arran found himself speechless. Yet he quickly realized that standing around would do him no good, and with a deep sigh, he resumed his work.

Perhaps if he worked hard enough, he would be able to finish in time to get at least a few hours of sleep.