Chapter 75 - Guardian of Life (Patreon)

Arien sat in the shade of a massive chestnut tree at the edge of the Sands, the grass beneath him finally cool after a day of summer heat. The air still carried the smell of warm sand and trampled grass, mixed with sweat and leather from the four students sparring nearby.

Wooden weapons cracked against one another while Arien kept part of his attention on the four faint connections of Guardian of Life stretching toward the fighters.

The duels attracted both irritated and interested glances from the students who had chosen the strip of greenery for their evening relaxation. Each fighter carried a wooden weapon, and every clash produced a sharp crack. At least three groups of older students had already gathered their notes and moved elsewhere.

Nobody complained.

The four Sword House students were fighting hard enough that approaching them to argue about the noise probably did not seem worth the effort. Will’s opponent, Uto, swung his two-handed sword with enough force that a clean hit could easily break bone despite the wooden blade. Will met him with a bastard sword and shield, attacking with just as much aggression.

Neither had managed to gain a lasting advantage.

Arien followed the exchange closely. His Perception was high enough now that he could track every strike and thrust in detail, and he found himself wondering whether they had already reached the level of the finalists he had watched years ago in Ribenne.

Both duals had been going for nearly fifteen minutes. All four students were drenched in sweat, breathing heavily, but none of them seemed willing to admit defeat.

Will grimaced as another blow slammed into his shield. He redirected the strike and answered with a slash toward Uto’s chest, forcing the larger boy to pull his sword back in time to parry.

A sudden drain on Arien’s mana told him that someone had taken another serious hit.

"That's enough!"

Both pairs immediately separated and exchanged respectful bows before dropping onto the ground to catch their breath.

“I was just starting to gain the upper hand,” Belia complained after a minute.

The fourteen-year-old girl fought with two one-handed swords, and somehow managed to hold her own against opponents much heavier than she was. Hoyt, sprawled several paces away and gulping air, clearly lacked the energy to dispute her claim.

“That’s true,” Arien admitted. “Your last hit took quite a bit of mana.”

“It’s a shame you don’t have more of it.”

Arien raised both eyebrows.

“I’ve heard mages use special crystals to increase their reserves,” Belia continued. “Couldn’t you get one? I’m sure all of us would contribute if it meant we could fight for a few more minutes.”

Arien wasn’t sure whether to laugh or be offended. Depending on how his classmates distributed their Attributes, he practically had twice as much mana as most of them. His Vitality also regenerated enough during the fights to extend their sessions by several minutes.

And Belia, who could barely breathe, was suggesting that his reserves were the problem.

“Belia, mana crystals are incredibly expensive, and after a few recharges they usually lose their properties and most of their value,” Will explained as he slowly stood and removed his leather breastplate.

Arien felt the familiar stab of envy at the sight of his friend’s physique. Will had grown enormously over the last few years. He stood almost a head taller than Arien now, his shoulders broader from years of sword training and the last traces of childhood softness gone from his face. Combined with his skill with a sword, that had made him rather popular with girls throughout the Academy.

“We should be grateful for every minute we get,” Will continued. “Arien is already using most of his mana for us.”

Despite everything else that had changed, Will was still the same earnest boy who divided most things into right and wrong. Arien particularly enjoyed watching girls attempt to flirt with him. Will never seemed to notice, and even obvious invitations were rejected because they interfered with training.

He was wrong about one thing, though. Arien had not used all of his mana.

Almost a quarter remained, deliberately held back in case one of the fights went badly. So far, he had never needed that reserve.

His second Life Aspect Specialization was the reason. He had reached it at the beginning of the semester, much to Lamaral’s surprise, and after hours of discussing the options with her, two choices had remained.

Guardian of Life: increases understanding of Life magic, allows you to place allies under your protection, granting passive regeneration. In addition, you can cast both Life magic and non-aspected magic through the thread connecting you to them.

Field Healer: increases understanding of Life magic, allows you to create a Dome of Life in which allies receive passive regeneration, while Life spells become more efficient and cost less mana.

Arien preferred Guardian of Life. Lamaral favored Field Healer, a Specialization she possessed herself.

Her reasoning was difficult to argue with. A Dome of Life could be established in a military camp, an Explorer encampment, a Portal, or even an infirmary. Once established, it required little concentration to maintain and could keep large numbers of wounded people alive until a Healer reached them.

Guardian of Life  however, connected the Healer directly to selected allies, increasing their regeneration and allowing Life magic to reach them even in the middle of combat. Non-aspected spells such as Magic Shield could also be cast through the connection.

Lamaral had never personally known anyone who chose it. From what she had read, it was mostly used by combat Healers attached to permanent parties, and maintaining several connections while actively protecting people could consume enormous amounts of mana.  Lamaral saw little reason for him to specialize so narrowly.

He chose Guardian of Life anyway.

Her arguments made sense, but they did not account for one thing she did not know: how much mana Arien actually possessed or how quickly he regenerated it. He was careful in the Infirmary and rarely let his reserves fall below half, partly because he had no desire to explain where so many Attribute points had come from.

More importantly, Arien did not want to spend his life working in an infirmary. He respected the work, but spending every day surrounded by sickness, and people he could not always save had never felt like the life he wanted. He wanted to travel, preferably with people he trusted, and as a mage he would depend on companions capable of keeping enemies away from him.

Protecting those companions seemed like a worthwhile use of mana.

After several months of practice with Will, Uto, Belia, and Hoyt, he had no regrets. Maintaining the connections had become easier, and he was still discovering ways to reduce their cost and use them more efficiently.

The Sword House students were equally pleased. According to them, they normally had only one class each week where they could fight at full intensity, and even then the matches rarely lasted more than a few minutes.

They begged him to train with them every day, but he managed to limit it to three times per week, truthfully explaining that he still had other things he needed to study.

“I’m sorry about Belia. She’s a bit upset after losing two duels during today’s exams,” Will said as they walked back toward the dormitories.

“No need to apologize. Exams do that to people. Half my class has looked ready for a nervous breakdown all week.”

“How did yours go? I didn’t want to ask in front of the others.”

“Good. And I mean genuinely good, not ‘I don’t want you to worry’ good.”

“I never doubted you. Progress matters more than ranking.”

Arien looked at him. “Woah, Will. Such wisdom. Let me guess, that’s from your favorite book?”

“No. It’s from you. You told me that in our second year, when everyone thought you’d be expelled.” He paused. “The Knight’s Path focuses on different things.”

“Ah.” Arien rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have said something like that.”

He often said similar things when trying to encourage people. Will was one of the few people who remembered them word for word.

“What about you? First in your year again?”

“Probably. I did reasonably well on the theory exams, and the physical tests went well. I think the gap between me and the others is getting larger.” Will hesitated. “Master Kraven told me I should consider entering the King’s Tournament next year.”

“That’s great.” Arien glanced at him. Will had sounded pleased enough when talking about his exams, but the moment he mentioned the tournament, his tone had changed. “You don’t sound very happy about it.”

“It’s not that.” Will sighed. “I’m confident I could defeat most students in the years above me, but I don’t know how far that actually gets me. And when I think about Prince Cedrick...”

“Then stop comparing yourself to Cedrick. Right now he has an advantage because he can use magic. Once you start gaining active abilities of your own, that difference should shrink. You already know what I think about hybrids.”

“Sometimes I don’t believe you when you say you don’t have any special knowledge about the System.”

Arien snorted. “You have no idea how much I wish I knew even half of what children from the Old Houses do. Planning everything with general information and educated guesses is terrifying.”

Will stared at him. “There. That.”

“What?”

“‘Planning everything.’ ‘Building your class.’ Sometimes you say things I’ve never heard anyone else say, and we grew up in the same region.”

Arien opened his mouth, but Will waved it away.

“Never mind. Have you heard about the new attacks on the border?”

Arien straightened. “No. What attacks? Is Ribenne safe?”

“Yes,” Will said immediately. “Ribenne is safe. Sorry, I should’ve started with that. Several villages east of Fenork were hit.”

Arien’s shoulders eased slightly. “That’s pretty far from Ribenne. How did you hear about it?”

“Malbek wrote to me. His Explorer team was hunting Monsters in the area.”

“So Tyranny again?”

“No one knows. There were apparently no witnesses, and the villages were simply empty.”

Arien frowned. “Empty?”

“No bodies.”

For a moment, flashes of the burned remains of his parents and neighbors seared his mind.

“Then why hasn’t there been anything in the newspapers? They’ve spent the last week writing about a brawl between sailors in Uthell where three humans and an orc died.”

“I don’t know. Maybe the news hasn’t reached Wayhold yet.” Will’s mouth tightened. “Or maybe a few missing border villages nobody here has heard of aren’t considered important enough.”

“I’ll ask Reyna. She usually hears about scandals before they reach the papers.”

They walked in silence for a while, passing students who seemed more energetic than usual. Some were already carrying luggage, eager to leave as soon as the semester officially ended. Most would wait until tomorrow’s results or stay another night to celebrate in the Port.

“Do you think they’re still alive?” Will asked quietly.

Arien did not need to ask who he meant. His thoughts went immediately to the members of their families who had disappeared beyond the eastern border.

“I don’t know.”

Years had passed, and almost everything reaching Wyndor from Tyranny was rumor. There were stories of unrest and rebellion, but little that Arien trusted. The Kingdom had almost certainly sent spies across the border by now, yet very little reliable information ever reached the public.

“But I still think there’s a chance,” he said. “If they were taken as slaves and survived the first few months, they may simply be working somewhere in captivity.”

“Even with a civil war?”

“A slave is property. If one faction defeats another, they’ll take whatever is valuable. Artifacts, land, money, slaves.” Arien hated how cold the logic sounded, but it was one of the few things that gave him hope. “If our families survived the beginning, they may have survived the years since.”

“I hate this.” Will kicked one of the stones lining the path hard enough to send it bouncing into the grass.

“We’ve trained for years, and we’re still nowhere near being able to rescue anyone. Every year that passes makes the chances worse. Sometimes I wonder what the point of any of it is.”

Arien let him continue.

“Our enemies could have decades of levels on us. Even if we become strong enough to defeat a few of them, we can’t fight an entire country. And Wyndor doesn’t seem interested in rescuing anyone. The army has been sitting on the border for years and still can’t even protect the villages there.”

“Will.”

His friend kept walking, jaw clenched.

“Will, enough.”

That finally stopped him.

Arien faced him. “I’m not saying any of that is wrong. I worry about the same things. But none of it changes what you can do today.”

Will stayed silent.

“You can train. You can get stronger. And when the time comes to actually do something, you’ll be in a better position than you are now.”

“That might still not be enough.”

“It might not.” Arien shrugged. “But being weaker certainly won’t help.”

Will frowned, staring down at the ground.

Arien knew the advice was easier to give than follow. He worried about the future more often than he liked to admit, but Will was still young, and Arien tried to keep as much of that worry off his shoulders as he could. Spending every day thinking about his murdered father and missing siblings would not bring any of them back. Training, at least, gave him something he could control.

After a while, Will nodded. “You’re right.” He was quiet for several more steps before adding, “The path of a true Knight is to protect those who need protection, not merely pursue a selfish desire for revenge. Evil must be defeated with a pure heart, or we risk becoming corrupted by it ourselves.”

Arien stared at him. “Uh... sure. That too.” 

They reached the point where they usually split up.

“See you at the Leaky Mug?”

“Yeah. I promised I’d come.” Will sounded less than enthusiastic. He had never cared much for taverns or drinking, but Arien considered it his responsibility to occasionally drag his friend into activities that did not involve swords.

They parted, and Arien continued toward the dormitories.

His thoughts returned to Ribenne, to Alia and Sari. Their letters said they were doing well, though he still missed them more than he usually admitted.

Years had passed, but he still held on to the hope that somewhere beyond the eastern border, part of his family was alive and that one day he would see them again.

Good news! RR readers earned a bonus chapter this week, and EoN is currently #102 on Best Rated, (so close to the Top 100), and #36 on Ongoing Fictions!

I didn’t ask you guys for anything here because you’re already helping me a ton, and as always, I’m incredibly grateful for that.

For you, I also opened a new collection where I’ll be introducing the characters, so it’s easier to keep track of who’s who. I didn’t send out email notifications for those posts because I didn’t want to spam you too much.