Nightblade (Darkest night)

Morgan's lessons with Emily began in earnest after that.

He decided to teach her everything he knew, consequences be damned.

" If we're to survive this, then I need her to be at her best, after all, I can't very well always look out for her when things go south," he thought to himself.

" My teacher is a maestro. His name is Luke." Morgan began.

" He taught me mostly everything, well, everything I know about blades, though I have adapted what I learned to suit my style. Later on, I expect you'll do the same."

The huge ancient temple was filled with silence.

The large inner chamber was mostly unchanged since the fight with the wraith had been restricted to the part of the temple that served as a bestiary.

" We'll do it from here".

Large, silent statues of hooded figures surrounded the inner sanctum of the temple.

The tenebrous figures resembled frozen guardians, like silent sentinels, eerily guarding the hallowed hall from some unknown terror.

Morgan thought otherwise. To him, the arrangement of the sentinels was particular, specific.

It was almost like they were in veneration of whatever entity inhabited the great temple.

Morgan slowly moved around the hall, gracefully twirling his blades in the air.

His mastery of the Blood Reaper blades had improved drastically since he'd awoken from his brief spell of unconsciousness.

A peculiar feeling flowed up from within every time he wielded them, subtle, elusive, but he could feel it.

" We'll start with blade combat, since I use blades, I'll teach you what I can about them. So listen carefully. It's also the most practical thing to start with because I don't expect you to throw fists at these creatures,' he said with a grin.

"Although that would make for one hell of a sight and you'd probably get obliterated in the very next second."

Morgan sat down in the middle of the hall, taking off his blade scabbard and laying it down.

" What do you think is the most important thing in a fight?"

Emily kept quiet for a while, then spoke.

" I think it's to survive. Defeat your opponent."

Morgan smiled devilishly, then shook his head.

" You're only partly right. The essence of combat is to outwit and outmaneuver your opponent. Basically, you kill before you're killed. Actually, the same thing applies to every form of fight."

Emily nodded slightly.

Morgan's eyes darkened.

" Just like you've noticed here, every fight, every encounter with an unknown creature carries with it the promise of death. Every fight could be your last.

Morgan swung his blades through the air with frenetic speed, each swing whistling through the air with a promise of death, whispering of the sharpness and lethality of BloodReaper.

So each time you decide to fight, it's your life on the line."

Morgan leaned back and sprawled on the ground, then sighed. His voice grew quieter.

" And who knows, it may not even be creatures like these you fight next time. You may have to kill human beings, living, breathing people like you."

Emily pierced him with a questioning look.

" Have you killed humans before?"

Morgan leapt off the ground with a stylish kip up, then sauntered forward until he was standing right in front of Emily. He leisurely took out one of the Blood Reaper blades, examining its dark, silvery edge.

He offered her a faint smile, then slowly shook his head.

" I've never killed another human being. But if it came to it, I don't think I'd hesitate. If it were a question of their life over mine, I'd choose mine in a heartbeat. The world we live in is cruel to the weak."

Morgan's eyes became cold, and his voice took on a darker, lifeless edge.

He was stating the brutal facts of the world.

"The strong take what they want because they can. And the weak suffer, simply because they are weak. So I refused to remain weak, and if it comes to it, if anyone decided to weigh their life over mine, I wouldn't hesitate to end them."

A chill ran down Emily's spine, her eyes widening slightly. She slowly realized something.

" I've never seen this side of him. What could have happened to him to make him this way?" Most of the time, the boy she saw was easy-going and very optimistic, even in the direst of odds

Morgan clapped his hands together.

" Enough chit chat. Let's begin."

Morgan offered her one of the blades, then took up a stance.

" Do as I do."

Morgan showed Emily how to hold the blades.

" Like this, you must be relaxed, ready to move at a moment's notice. If you want to stab, the blade must flow with your arm."

He slowly moved his arm forward, the wrists snapping forward elegantly.

"And when you've mastered that, you take it a step further."

Morgan's arms moved swiftly, the blades whipping through the air at frenetic speeds.

" Normally, I can stab five to six times a second, but with my awakened ability, that number explodes to probably nine or twelve times. But the key here is control and accuracy."

Emily followed his example, stabbing several times through the air.

" Stop," Morgan said, holding her fore arm.

" Remember, accuracy and control. If you use too much strength, you'll hurt yourself and you won't be able to react in time in an actual fight, but if you use too little, then you won't be able to deliver proper damage to your opponent."

"Her circled back and brandished his remaining blade.

" You must find a balance between strength and speed, accuracy and control. Think of it like a dance. Too much strength and you'll hurt yourself and your partner, too little and you won't execute the dance flawlessly."

Emily quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

" Aren't we the philosophical ones now, huh? Speaking of dancing, have you ever danced before?"

Morgan paused, his brown eyes staring into the distance.

He nodded somberly, then spoke in a quiet voice.

" Yes, I have danced before. My mother taught me how to dance. When I was little, we'd waltz through the house."

A faint smile curled his lips.

" You must really love her," Emily said quietly.

" Yeah. Very much." Morgan replied quietly.

Emily scoffed derisively.

"Who could have thought the fierce and proud Morgan Thane would be a mummy's boy? So, how is she? You left her home?" Emily asked playfully.

Morgan quietly shook his head.

" Nope, she died."

Emily stopped mid-stab, her eyes widening in shock.

" Oh, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up. I'm really sorry."

Morgan smiled.

"No, it's fine. I'm mostly over it. Where were we? Right, after learning how to stab, you need to know how to slash with the blade. Personally, I like a reverse grip, you know, it feels comfortable, but it's your choice."

Apart from Emily's blunder, the rest of the lesson continued without much incident.

Over the next couple of days, her form continued to improve.

" Slash, then stab, come on, faster!" Morgan yelled.

Emily's arms moved rhythmically through the air, endlessly stabbing and slashing.

She pumped her arms through the air until they were blurs, her muscles straining, her arms moving forward continuously in the same flawless motion.

" I must be perfect."

Morgan was patient. He gave her time to understand and ask questions where she did not understand.

He continued to demonstrate to her without growing weary of her questions.

" That's the first set, rest for one minute, then second set, let's go."

Emily had long since taken off her black blazer. It lay discarded on the ground.

She had rolled up her long sleeves to increase her speed and efficiency at wielding the blades.

Her muscles screamed and spasmed at the point of near exhaustion. Emily gritted her teeth, coldly bearing the agony.

If she was going to get stronger, if she was going to survive, then there was no room for weakness.

She remembered Asterix's cold crimson eyes all too vividly.

The memory of his unnatural beauty and the subtle wrongness of his existence echoed in her darkest nightmares with the promise of his return.

And she would be ready. She had to be.

And he would pay.

But first she had to get through the hellish training.

" You're almost there! Come on."

" Slash, then stab. Slash, then stab, slash then stab."

It had quickly become a mantra, echoing through her head so many times.

Morgan was a brutal teacher, according to Emily. He required her to do several thousand repetitions of slashes every day without rest.

When she approached him about it, he had blatantly laughed in her face.

" You think I'm brutal? If we ever get back to Earth, I'll introduce you to Luke and my cousin, Scott. I think you'll quickly redefine your definition of the word."

And so the rigorous training continued.

When their supply of meat ran out, Morgan would go out and hunt for Bretnar and other smaller creatures within the ancient city.

Sometimes, he'd draw the prey to the temple courtyard so that she could watch and learn from his battles from the safety of the ancient temple.

Emily quickly learned to spot the weaknesses of the creatures.

Witnessing Morgan's fights subconsciously improved her battle IQ, slowly honing her mind to the absurdities of battle and life-and-death fights.

One morning, Morgan had quietly approached her.

" I think you're ready now. We'll move on to movements and then...."

Emily looked at him curiously.

" And then?"

Morgan sighed, then a sinister smile appeared on his face.

" And then I'll be your opponent. You'll face me in combat."

Emily quickly learned to spot the weaknesses of the creatures.