WW Chapter 74: Prepare to Train (Patreon)

“So are you just going to be avoiding conditioning every day?” Rose asked, not bothering to try to hide the envy in her voice.

“Apparently, yes, but everybody who knows what’s going on is sure that I'll be getting more conditioning than the rest of you during the day when I'm doing these trainings with Dominick and Michel.”

As he mentioned those names for the first time, the other soldiers sitting nearby perked up. The meal was going quickly, with the four commoner trainees bombarding him with questions, but now that Ezra’d mentioned the number one and two strongest people in the city by name, others were paying attention.

While his friends closed in and pressed him for answers, Patrice and Quinn, two of the trainees who weren’t a part of the anti-Duke faction who had become Adepts, scooted close. Now that they heard “Michel and Dominick”, they stopped trying to hide how they were eavesdropping. As the questions continued growing more specific, Ezra wasn't sure what answer he was going to give to everyone about what exactly he was doing. Nobody had told him he couldn't say that he was going to become the Duke's son's bodyguard, but should he?

“So what exactly do they have you doing?” Telemachus insisted for the fourth time, leaving Ezra unable to avoid it any longer.

“I don't know if I can tell you that,” Ezra decided to answer, shrugging. “I'll have to ask Chloe or somebody else if I'm allowed to say what my assignment is.”

“But it's important enough to merit being trained by the two strongest people in the garrison,” Patrice said, turning to look in Ezra's face. Her food lay forgotten on the table in front of her as her eyes burned with jealousy. “Is this because of your victory in the tournament?”

“I don't think so,” Ezra replied. “Honestly, I think Chloe was pushing for me to get this position ever since she found me.”

“Fuck me sideways and call me a sandwich,” Patrice scoffed. “What did you do to earn her attention?”

From one of the commoners, it might have felt like a joking appreciation of his luck. In Patrice's mouth, her envy was obvious and ugly.

“I killed an orc with an aural attack when I was still an Initiate,” Ezra snapped back. “Before that, I held the line against dozens of goblins and bugbears in a war of extermination. I only started training as a soldier half a year ago, and I've proved myself capable every step of the way. Sound good enough for you?”

“Great, you did something once,” Patrice scoffed, turning back to her meal. “Glad to hear that three generations of loyal service and a lifetime of training on my part don't mean shit to the Duke. Have fun over in your special corner.”

Ezra felt his face screw up in anger for a second. Then, miraculously, Chloe's training in manners exerted its control over him. He took a second to think, to consider the meaning of what was being said, not just the emotions behind the words. Instead of just snapping back at her, he considered, just for a second, what it would be like to be in her place.

In terms of skill with a sword, Ezra was nothing special. If he was being completely honest with himself, he was, at best, competent with any of the weapons. It was part of why he'd fallen into using of the axe—because, while there was absolutely an element of skill in using an axe, it was a lot simpler than any of the other weapons.

Putting aside any bitterness on how the more privileged trainees had obviously had years more experience using weapons and instruction from tutors, Patrice and Tula were standouts among the trainees. It shouldn't come as a surprise, considering both were from military families that had been in service of the Duke for generations. Regardless, both were more than competent with swords, and their duels on the practice field were something to be studied. Even Jormun had only praise for their skills, and they very deliberately worked on continuing to hone themselves.

Then, on top of that, both were skilled with aura. Ezra didn't know how old they were, but they were, at most, 21 or 22. He had no idea how long they had been Adepts, but that was enough to be considered talented. After all, they were in the same trainee group that he was, for those particularly talented people who might become Knights. And now, Patrice was being told that that didn't matter, that a dozen years of hard training and talent didn't mean anything to half a year of luck.

An uncomfortable silence had descended over the group, Quinn looking back and forth between Ezra and Patrice, while the commoners seemed to be on Ezra's side. Even though they all had a good enough relationship with Patrice, the outburst was out of the ordinary.

Ezra swallowed down his pride and instead let out a long breath. Then, pushing away from his seat, he walked towards Patrice. He couldn't help but notice the slightest quiver in her shoulders, betraying her tamped-down frustration, and the words that had stuck in his throat became much easier to find.

“You're right, Patrice,” he said.

She didn't look up at him, but it was obvious she was listening by how she had turned to make sure an ear was pointed towards him.

“Honestly, I haven't done anything special. I'm not sure exactly why I got this opportunity when you didn't. I think it's something to do with the fact that I'm progressing very quickly with aura. Even though I'd lose in any duel without the use of aura against you, for some reason, this is what matters for this particular assignment. For what it's worth, I think you're a great fighter and I’d appreciate any help you can give me to be a better duelist.”

He started to walk away at that, to sit back down and finish his meal, but Patrice reached out and caught his wrist before he could go. He felt more sure in the decision that he made as she did so, the thick, tough calluses that covered her hand feeling like rough stone on his skin.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice low as she glanced up at him. The sheen of unshed tears glistened along her lower eyelids, and she nodded once.

Only in that moment did Ezra consider the fact that she was cute. Most of the time, when he saw her, she was wearing her helmet, but now he took in the light dusting of freckles across her nose, hazel eyes, and faintly curled brown hair. It was in a braid down the back of her head, but two ringlets hung free to frame her round face. She wasn't so head-turningly beautiful as Rose, but Ezra felt himself loosen up and smile down at her in response.

Then the moment was over, and he returned back to his seat. As he resumed dipping his bread in the sausage and gravy, Ezra could feel the weight of four pairs of eyes on him.

“And you say you're not a womanizer,” Telemachus muttered, leaning into Ezra with a smile. Rose, Miriam, and Dirk didn't say anything, but by the look on their faces, they had similar opinions to Telemachus about what Ezra had just done.

The rest of the meal went quick, the other trainees eating quickly to prepare for the next assignment. Because they were preparing to go on patrol, they each needed to gear up, in the off chance that they actually needed to fight against anything. Once done eating, the other trainees quickly bid farewell to Ezra, leaving him unsure of what exactly he should do to be prepared for this training against Dominick. Before he could get too lost in his thoughts, Chloe approached him.

“He said you should get all of your equipment on,” she said without any pleasantries. “So get moving, get ready, and once you are done, come down to the same training pit that we practiced in today.”

Ezra snapped a quick salute to her before turning to go to his room, where his equipment was. Chloe continued to follow him, and after cocking an eyebrow at her, she smiled.

“I'll help you get all your armor on faster,” was all she said.

Ezra didn't argue, and in his room, he quickly pulled on his greaves and gauntlets as Chloe started to settle his armor around his upper body. It didn't take long for his efforts to be largely useless, Chloe's fingers dancing across the straps and tightening them until the breastplate and upper body’s armor were secured. The pauldrons, cuirass, and chainmail settled over the rest of his body until he felt unstoppable. Then, with his shield on his left arm and his axe hanging from its loop on his hip, Ezra followed Chloe to the training ground.

The sound of metal clinking against itself filled the air, and the shorter, blonde-haired woman stepped in front of him as they got to the training ground. She also wore her armor, which, when he had first seen it, Ezra had thought was plain leather. Now, however, he could see the faint patterns of scales in the leather, and he was sure that the leather was no ordinary product. He didn't have anything else to think about as Chloe stepped through the doorway and then out of the way to allow Ezra to enter. He walked past her, and in the center of the room stood Dominick.

“You're a little late, son. Make sure you're on time,” Dominick said. “It's your first day. I know there's a dozen reasons why you could've been late today. It's no problem. Don't do it again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thank you for bringing him, Chloe. You won't be needed,” Dominick waved off the Pseudo-Knight as he pulled a small stool into his reach. Then he sat on the stool in the center of the room, his halberd laying across his thighs.

Chloe didn't speak as she bowed and made her way out of the room, and then Ezra was alone with the old Knight. Just like the night before, he was wearing a simple breastplate and armor, his shiny bald head reflecting the light of the late morning sun that began to peek over the walls of the Garrison. It felt weird to know that he was going to fight the old man, seeing that Ezra was fully equipped, and Dominick seemed mostly like he would be standing by a door with his joints creaking.

“Pull over a stool,” Dominick commanded as Ezra looked at him. “Before we get started on anything, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Yes, sir.”

Just as Dominick had mentioned, there were a half dozen stools in the room, so Ezra turned, grabbed one, and carried it over to set a couple meters in front of the old man. Fortunately, it was a sturdy seat, and though it groaned in protest as Ezra settled himself on it, it didn't break.

“You know that this assignment is an extension of immense trust, right?” Dominick asked, his gaze locking on Ezra's face.

“Yes, sir.”

“While Adonis isn't the heir apparent of the duchy, the Duke loves his children,” Dominick continued. “I'm sure that Chloe has mentioned that one of the biggest reasons that you were chosen is that you're very likely to become a Pseudo-Knight. There's politics around why that is, but suffice to say, your natural talent with aura has put you ahead of other candidates for the position. However, the Duke would rather have a handful of guards who don't have a lick of talent for sensing aura protecting his children than even a Knight he can't fully trust.”

“And I appreciate that trust,” Ezra answered.

“If that's true, you're gonna need to continue to prove yourself worthy of it. This isn't going to be a vacation, and it certainly isn't a cushy assignment like many bodyguarding jobs are,” Dominick's eyes seemed to burn as they stared at Ezra. “The Duke is going to give you an education like you wouldn't believe, and you better keep up. I'm sure you can keep from embarrassing yourself in the fighting, but you need to do a whole lot more than just be in good shape and know how to use aura.”

“Yes, sir.”

“At least you know how to give an answer,” Dominick grunted.

Then, without any further conversation, he stood up. The movement was careful, with the grace of a life spent exercising but now nearing its end. Then, as soon as Dominick was standing, Ezra felt the older man's aura burst, and he went from gingerly standing to the same intimidating man that he had seen the night before.

“Now, let's put you through your paces.”