the one who remembers

Since dawn, Cale had been standing on the training ground with his group members, taking turns in duels. At the moment, Jarle was facing Cedrik - and Cedrik was clearly losing. Other groups, a short distance away, were doing the same, while their instructor moved from unit to unit, observe each person in turn.

A few weeks earlier, they had abandoned the monotonous endurance drills and were now focusing more on swordsmanship itself. Cale noted with some admiration that a surprising number of the newcomers could handle their weapons well and hold their ground. No surprise there - many of them were nobles or had otherwise received prior training.

Still, something felt different today, though Cale couldn't yet put his finger on what it was. Their teacher was unusually quiet, and even Sir Meyrl - who had originally planned to join them today - was absent. No one said anything outright, but Cale was certain something had happened in the last few days.

"You're not standing firm enough", Jarle called out loudly, prompting Cale to turn his attention to his younger colleague.

Jarle struck Cedrik with full force, and Cedrik, unable to withstand the blow, stumbled backward. He managed not to fall, but if Jarle kept pressing, he'd soon be eating dust.

"You're shifting your weight in a strange way, Cedrik. When Jarle attacks you, lean forward to get a stronger stance", Cale explained, gesturing with one hand as he continued. "And try to keep moving. Push back with your own strength, and if he still gains the upper hand, redirect his attack to the side."

"Easier said than done", Cedrik muttered, a faint whine in his voice, before returning to his starting position.

He struggled greatly with blocking attacks that targeted his balance. The next strike was even worse and within seconds, Cedrik was thrown to the ground, gasping for breath. With a quiet sigh, Cale walked over and offered him a hand, which Cedrik accepted with a grim expression. It clearly bothered him to be the weakest in the group, likely because he felt he was holding them back.

"Leave it for now. Take a break and watch how I handle those attacks. It's easier to see it in action than to follow instructions alone."

With a reluctant nod, Cedrik agreed and stepped aside. A few meters away, he dropped to the ground with a tired sound and watched as Cale and Jarle took their positions.

"What should I do?", Jarle asked, raising his sword in front of him and planting one foot firmly beside the other, his eyes fixed on his opponent.

"Attack me the same way you keep going after Cedrik. You can use your full strength - I'll be able to block it", Cale said, shifting one foot behind the other and gripping his weapon with both hands.

The tension between the two men had eased in recent weeks, and they had started to speak more openly with each other. Cale, too, lowered his own guard the more he saw of Jarle's swordsmanship. It was sloppy and riddled with mistakes - things only someone truly skilled with a sword would notice. And his style was nothing like what Cale had learned from Miguel or Master Paseru, which slowly but surely eased his earlier concerns. Even if Jarle knew the swordmaster from Frignez, Cale suspected he had never actually seen the man fight. Otherwise, he wouldn't be making so many mistakes.

With a powerful - though relatively slow - swing, Jarle lunged at Cale. From his movement and speed, Cale could gauge the force behind the blow and raised his sword to block. The clang of metal rang across the yard as Jarle's strike drove heavily into Cale, forcing him to bend his front knee slightly and push his whole body against Jarle's.

For a moment, it looked as though Jarle might overpower him - he kept driving Cale downward - but Cale's stance kept him from advancing any further. Then Cale straightened slightly until they were face-to-face, Jarle straining with all his might. The moment Cale realized how far Jarle had leaned forward to apply pressure, he stepped back and turned his body sideways. As a result, Jarle pitched forward, sword-first, hitting the ground beside Cale. Startled, Jarle released his grip to catch himself with one hand. Half-kneeling, he found himself on the ground, while Cale's gaze shifted toward Cedrik, who was watching intently.

Cale was just about to explain what had happened when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Jarle move. Instinctively, he drove his sword into the ground at a vertical angle, intercepting the nobleman's attack.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"You'd better drop that habit - especially if you don't have a plan", Cale warned sharply, shoving his foot into Jarle's torso. Jarle completely lost his balance and landed on his backside, his sword clattering to the ground as Cale looked down at him, mildly disappointed. "Attacking from below is generally a bad idea for the simple reason that it puts you in a disadvantaged position."

"You're damn fast."

"Fast? That's what you think fast....?", Cale began, sounding almost offended, but stopped abruptly. Maybe Jarle thought so because he wasn't used to fighting strong opponents. Cale hadn't even shown a quarter of his real speed. "Forget it. Compared to you all, I suppose I am fast."

"Impressive display", an unfamiliar voice remarked suddenly, prompting Cedrik, Jarle, and Cale to turn. Their sword instructor was approaching, slowly clapping, and giving Cale an approving look. "Excellent posture throughout. You used your back leg to prevent being driven back and sacrificed your other leg to keep your force controlled. When you noticed how poorly your opponent's weight was balanced, you completely threw him off with one small move and put him on the ground. A soldier on the ground is as good as dead."

He stopped a meter in front of Cale and ceased clapping, while Jarle retrieved his weapon and stood up again. Cedrik, already on his feet, joined Cale a moment later.

"Good that you didn't simply accept your defeat", the officer added, glancing at Jarle, who stood stiff as a board. "Though I would have advised you to retreat and regroup. Resourcefulness and experience are things we can't teach you here."

Both Cale and Jarle thanked him politely for the compliment, though Cale felt a shiver run down his spine. He hadn't expected to have been watched - or for his movements to be so easily read. Admittedly, there had been no special tricks involved, only fundamentals they all needed to learn.

"Show me more", the man said at last, calling on Cedrik and Jarle to face each other.

Cale returned to his original position, sword in hand, and watched from a distance as the two began trading blows. Their teacher stood calmly at the edge, his keen gaze catching every mistake.

<Sharp man - that much is obvious. Not a swordmaster, but he definitely knows his craft. About on par with An, the last time I fought her.>

When Cale sensed a familiar mana signature approaching, he slid his sword back into its sheath and turned toward Mamoru Meyrl. The red-haired man walked straight down the path to his protégés, stopping wordlessly beside Cale to watch Cedrik and Jarle's duel.

"You're late", Cale was the first to speak.

"A man's got to do what a man's got to do."

"Did something happen?"

"You could say that", the soldier replied vaguely, his eyes still fixed on the match. "How are things going here?"

"As always. We train, we learn, and things are slowly improving. I think we're getting better - especially compared to some other groups."

"Your learning curve is certainly steep - I'll give you that", Sir Meyrl said with a satisfied look as he continued to watch. For a moment, he was silent, before getting to the real reason he'd come. "The matter with your sword is moving forward."

"Already?", Cale asked, surprised.

In their last conversation, he'd been told they wouldn't open an investigation until he began his official duties as a soldier. He had expected this at the earliest in autumn - not today. Even with his colleagues improving daily and his own skills gradually revealed, he hadn't thought it would happen so soon.

"Some people in the palace have taken an interest in you - though I can't say whether in a good way or a bad one. Your request reached the top yesterday, and they want to see for themselves."

"They?"

"Duke Loys of Freigoud, to be exact. The name rings a bell, doesn't it?"

"The king's right hand, yes. I know the name. His wife, Duchess Gloria of Freigoud, is the headmistress at the school my daughter Ahri attends. But how did it reached that high? Does the Duke usually deal with matters like this?"

"Not that I'm aware of. All I was told is that they want to test both you and your sword."

"Test? In what way?"

"Good question", Sir Meyrl replied dismissively with a shrug.

At that moment, Cedrik fell to the ground, Jarle's blade at his throat. Though Cedrik had lasted longer this round since he was allowed to fight back, Jarle still claimed the win - though Cale wouldn't say it was earned. He'd simply been lucky that Cedrik was still inexperienced.

"When?", Cale asked quietly.

Meeting Ben's father would be a huge gain for him, but what exactly was the purpose of this test? Did the duke merely want to see the sword with his own eyes? Ensure that the Kama sword was in safe hands? Or gauge Cale's skill?

Though Cale was glad to have caught someone's attention, it puzzled him. Even during the examination and Ahri's enrollment, it had been clear that Sir Freigoud had an eye on him. But why? He hadn't yet had the chance to showcase his abilities - so how had the man already taken notice?

"Tomorrow morning. You're excused from class", Sir Meyrl announced. "Don't worry - I'll be accompanying you."

Cale shot the tall man a skeptical glance. Why would Mamoru accompany him? Because Cale was his protégé? As moral support for meeting someone so important? Would he stay for the entire meeting?

He exhaled softly, crossing his arms as he watched Jarle help Cedrik up before the two began speaking with their sword instructor. Should he try to befriend Sir Freigoud? If he missed this opportunity, how long would he have to wait for another? Was it even wise to take such a big step now? He had been in Sylve for barely a quarter of a year and hadn't even made his first move against the Thormods. Yes, infiltrating the heart of Sylve was essential - but would its people even welcome him? Or would it be better to wait?

<I should talk to Damian about it before I act rashly.>