Mythshaper

The legatus left with a characteristically stoic expression. The only thing he had accomplished on this visit was to deliver the award for defeating the daemon. As for his other task, that was completely thwarted by the timely intervention of Knight Captain Gaius and the Spell's message on behalf of the Oracle herself.

Wait, could that be surmised as a divine decree?

My parents acted as though it was nothing out of the ordinary. As far as my memories went, the only occasion I had encountered when the Spell acted uncharacteristically was when it wished me a happy birthday. Well, then there was that instance when I was losing myself to a corpse fly; its voice had brought me a flash of vigilance. Yes, the words were true to its devised protocol, but if not for that prompt interference, I could only imagine the state I would have been in.

I bet the knights in the Order of Emberleaf received more of these mediations from the Spell. But that should not be a reason to join the order.

"Well, it's about time we make our way as well," said Sir Gaius, finishing his coffee. He stood up with his squire in tow, who had not said a word coming into our house.

"Already?" Mum asked. "I thought we hadn't yet finished our business."

"We have not," the elderly knight agreed. "And we might have another task for you." His eyes darted to Father. "For both of you. We will discuss it once I have seen how you've handled the other task. But before that, I must investigate the situation with the rift. Karmel is too destitute, too remote from the empire's reach for them to concern themselves overmuch. The Guilds here are no better either, at least not at what the Spell told me. It made sense now why the empire was ecstatic to leave this territory to us."

"And your new task," Mum cut in. "It wouldn't have something to do with it as well, would it?"

The knight captain smiled crookedly. "Still sharp as a tack, eh?" His palm moved to stroke her head, but then seemed to recognise she was far off the age. So that awkward palm descended upon my head to tousle my hair. But only I was not enough to outweigh the awkwardness, thus the Titan Blade turned to his squire, the hand still raised. Decius withdrew a couple of steps, making his stance known.

"The task," he continued, "it might not be what you are imagining, but it is something adjacent. We'll discuss it... tomorrow? After we take a look at how far the seed has grown."

With the agreement, they scurried off to the more immediate task.

"Well," Mum muttered, "that wasn't completely unsettling." She turned to me. "Come now, it is time to get on with your lessons."

I said nothing, only stared at her, making a face.

"What is it?"

"I'm not telling you," I grumbled. "Since when don't you tell me anything?"

She cocked an eyebrow. "Is it about the message from the Spell?"

"And you never mentioned you knew Sir Emil or even the Titan Blade Gaius Talemans."

"I only know Sir Emil by reputation, and his connection to Master Gaius, who had more familiarity with our house. Well, my father was a squire under him, and he also helped me train for a good bit."

My eyes could not have been wider. "He trained you?"

"Only a little," Mum said. She tilted her head, considering. "For about... half a season before I left, finding I was not suited for a religious order. As for the matter of the task from the Oracle. The Spell gave me a quest, and I have given my word to keep it a secret. And you know how much I like to keep my word. Even your father has no idea what it is."

I turned to Father, who shrugged in agreement. "Do you still have to keep it a secret?"

Mum thought for a moment. "Probably not," she mumbled. I looked at her eagerly, but that only caused the corner of her lips to curve upwards. "But it is better to let you see with your own eyes than to hear about it."

I clicked my tongue.

"Well then, if your grievance is quelled, shall we get on with the lessons? I think we have covered much of the etiquette and how to carry yourself at aristocratic circles. Shall we move into more practical tests?" --I stood straightened at her words-- "like how to react when a petty nobleman challenges you to a duel? Or when a pretty girl asks you for a dance? Hmm, how about dance lessons for today?"

Immediately, my shoulders slumped with disinterest. Unfortunately, this had been the type of lesson I was receiving these days. Since the trouble with the demon incursion, I thought my parents would be teaching me more earnestly how to face the demons without any fear in my heart. Yet in reality, my father had been neglecting my training for a while, leaving it to Uncle Dalin for the most part. While Mum, though she had taught me a bit about how to utilise the new addition to my gift, most of her other lessons revolved around etiquette and how to navigate noble society.

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True, the few wounds I had gotten, especially the one in my chest from where the corpse fly had sucked on my life essence, had left me ill at ease for a time, but that was still a week ago. I was adapting surprisingly well to the Noble Class physicality.

"That look again," Mum said with a considerably arresting tone. "I suppose you will only come to your understanding when you stutter before the pretty girl, having nothing to say to her proposal. Ask your father. He knows all about it."

"I don't stutter," Father added.

"No," Mum shot him a look. "And you don't dance either."

"What do you mean?" I said. "You've seen Father's sword dance? He's like an incarnation of the wind itself."

"That's not the type of dance I am talking about, pumpkin." She sighed deeply, even though she did not even need to breathe. "I thought you had an affinity for fine arts, but it seems you still have the bull-headed characteristics of your father."

Well, swordsmanship felt like a marvellous fine art, better than the eloquence she failed to drill in the past few days. But I did not tell her that.

"Can we please practise something useful?" I asked pleadingly. "Something like aura resonance or advanced shaping that will at least help me during the provincial tournament."

"I think we have already talked about this." Mum frowned. "There isn't enough time for you to master either of the two to be prepared for the tournament. That's why we moved on to getting you started with the rune imprint, didn't we?"

Yes, I had heard it more than twice already. Advanced shaping might be something I fumbled into after countless hours of experimentation, like I had mixing water and reverse fire weave to shape ice, but that took half a day, and all I had to show for it was some snowflakes. Not to mention that ice was among the easier elements to shape. Plant was something a shaper could hardly ever work up to if they did not have an affinity for it. Lightning could be devastating to an err, and do not get me started on Light and Illusion.

Mum knew all about their theories, but by her own admission, she would be a poor teacher of it.

"Maybe I can ask Aunt Emi or Rose to come and teach me a lesson or two," I mumbled. My eyes lit up, but soon I had to dissuade myself, thinking they were busy with their own lives. Aunt Emi already had her hands full teaching at the Academy, and as for Rose, last I heard, she had graduated from the Academy in flying colours and undertaken some arbitrary job.

"As for your aura training," Father said, "the swordsmanship I taught you already covers more shapes than you ever need."

"But you haven't taught me anything about how to manipulate my aura with it," I argued. "I know I am not faintly close to attempting the elemental resonances, but you could start with the basic aura sword."

"I suppose you are about ready to try it," Father mumbled. "Aura sword, I meant. The elemental resonances take ages to master. Even still, aura is a fundamental aspect to master for an awakened if they ever want to go beyond Prestigious Class."

Father summoned me into the yard, and I followed with a smile on my lips. Finally, we were getting somewhere. Mum joined us as well, having nothing else to do.

"Would you like to do the explanation?" he asked her.

"You are stronger in this field than I am," she said, shaking her head. "It is only right that you teach him. And Ari already has the elementary knowledge, so you do not have to begin from scratch."

Father nodded and turned to me. I was already prepared with a long sabre in my hand. He looked at me and laughed.

"Before we begin," he said, "you should have some idea about what aura is, right?"

I nodded. "Isn't it an extension of our soul?" I said. "Once our soul becomes powerful enough, bits of it, like how vapour evaporates from water, leak into physical reality. If it's strong enough, it can be used to manipulate the primal nature of things."

"Well, that was a more eloquent expression than I have heard in my time." Father mulled over how to go about the teaching. "There are multitudes of ways to cultivate your aura. Some prefer weaponising it, moulding it into swords, spears or other weapons of carnage. Some, for example, a farmer can shape it into something like a spiritual fertiliser that flourishes his crops, an alchemist into something that assists their concoction.

"Unfortunately, once you pick a path, it is nigh impossible to reverse and choose another path. What I am going to teach you is how to weaponise your aura, sharpen it into a blade. It's called sword forging, and like the name suggests, it forges your aura into a sword. I'll give you a few minutes to make up your mind."

I did not need much thinking. Considering how deeply I felt about swordsmanship, I had practically made up my mind since the first day I took up a sword. And the fight with the demons, the powerlessness of seeing my parents fight against impossible odds, only strengthened my resolve.

We began with aura swords, and by we, I meant Father. For a demonstration, he shaped his aura into a blade. Instead of infusing the aura into his weapon, he made it appear in its bare form, invisible to the naked eye. My aura sense picked up an invisible blade in his palm in the identical shape of Ourborus, solid in a way that aura could ever be.

Without thinking, I tried to imitate it, pushing all my aura into my hand in the shape of a blade. I would have succeeded better if I had to work with essence, but aura was another beast altogether. It was like catching wind with a bare palm. As much as I condensed it on one side, the other side disintegrated into its whitish halo.

"Aura does not have the same range as your essence does, but there is something in common when manipulating them both," Father said. "Both respond to your emotions, and both require to be wielded by your Will."

I believed all my experience with shaping and engraving, which had allowed me to impose my Will, should have made it easier to do the same with my aura. But it certainly did not feel like that. I tried dozens of times, imposing my Will to shape the aura into a blade. Most times, the result was even worse than the first blade I had forged.

"You are doing better than most," Father praised. "Pick a target. It helps in moulding your intent."

With that, he cast a look towards the Elder Oak tree, and from its balding canopy, a yellowed leaf flew down. Father's aura sword moved and cut it in half. The bisection was so clean that I would believe someone had cut it using a scale.

"In my early days," he explained, "I used to train by either cutting leaves or sheets of paper. It helps with the precision, instead of bludgeoning things with brutal force."

I did not require any more encouragement. Even though no leaf fell from the tree in time, I lunged up to find a target of my own, setting all my Will upon it to swing my aura blade. The leaf fell from the tree. The leaf was cut, though not as well as I had hoped. It was as if someone with a big stick had battered it in the wind, instead of the clean stroke Father had demonstrated.

Father caught it, inspecting. "Not bad for your first try," he said. "You'll get there."

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