Two years had passed since Nerya began learning the basics, her slow progress discouraging her at times.

  Wensworth had taught her all the foundations, yet he had at last to depart to resume his work.

  “Rhaaa, it vexes me, why can I not do it?

  Why is it so hard to move stupid water,” she snapped.

  For an hour she had sat before the basin, trying to cleanse her cup and glass.

  Thus far she had managed only to make the surface tremble, never to answer her as she wished.

  “Cease forcing it, Nerya.

  It does not answer merely because one desires it.

  You are as impatient as your father,” Zephyra sighed.

  “Mama, please.

  It has been two years and I cannot even wash a glass, it will not listen,” Nerya retorted.

  Zephyra set aside what she was doing and came to sit beside her, taking her daughter’s hands and looking at her firmly.

  “We shall try something else, very well.

  But we told you, it takes time and you shall fail often,” Zephyra explained calmly.

  She placed her hands above the water, glancing briefly at Nerya with a smile before focusing.

  “Aqua vilgua ileniem,” she said lightly.

  The water began to form small spirals, turning the glass as it sank beneath the surface.

  After a few seconds the water stilled again, and Zephyra drew the glass out and set it upon the counter.

  “Next time, try it thus, do you hear.

  It should aid you a little,” she added.

  Nerya looked at her with a dull stare, her shoulders drooping as she pressed her lips together.

  “Mama, truly?

  Why did you not tell me before?

  For two years you let me struggle when it could be done another way,” Nerya grumbled.

  “Cease your complaints.

  Your father manages to burn himself with a small flame.

  If you cannot do it, tell yourself you inherited his talent,” Zephyra replied with a laugh.

  Nerya rose and went to sit at the table, pouting in frustration.

  Zephyra joined her, wrapping a few biscuits in cloth and handing them to her.

  “Would you take this to Telyssia and your father, if you please.

  They train overmuch, if you ask me, to the point they no longer eat properly,” she went on.

  “Very well, but I shall take my sword.

  I shall train with them as well,” Nerya answered.

  Zephyra sighed but finally nodded, and Nerya went to her chamber where she took up the scabbard.

  She fastened it at her belt and slid the blade within, returning to the kitchen to take the small bundle before heading to the door.

  “I added something for you to eat as well.

  And do not return too late.

  It is your father’s birthday today, we must prepare all before he comes back,” Zephyra said, waving her off.

  “Yes mama, I shall tell him not to return so you may ready his surprise,” Nerya replied as she stepped out.

  “Little pest, at times you are truly your father’s daughter,” Zephyra muttered.

  Nerya made her way toward the training camp, paying little heed to what lay about her.

  I hope he returns soon.

  I feel as though I no longer progress of late.

  Everything grows so complicated, she thought as she passed the silent forge.

  She reached the refectory, opening the door upon a room as quiet, save for a few soldiers at rest speaking in low tones.

  She greeted those who turned at the sound of her steps, then made for the stairs that led to the training arena.

  When she came to the yard, she saw her father instructing a group of soldiers, new recruits who seemed somewhat terrified.

  “But… Sir…,” one of the soldiers began.

  “We are not in a tavern here.

  It is Captain and nothing else.

  If ranks are given, it is for good reason.

  By swearing your oath you pledged to honor them,” Eldran replied coldly.

  “F-forgive me, Captain.

  But… how can we transfer our mana into a simple wooden sword?

  Usually we require a transfer stone,” the young man went on.

  Eldran gave no answer and walked to the weapon rack, taking a wooden sword before turning back to them.

  He then saw Nerya waiting and beckoned her to come.

  Nerya sighed and went to him, feeling the gazes settle upon her.

  “You arrive at the right moment.

  You may aid me a little.

  Would you show them, if you please,” he asked, holding out the sword.

  “Papa, you know I still struggle.

  I cannot do it as you do,” Nerya murmured, embarrassed.

  “I do not ask you to succeed, only to show them what you can,” Eldran whispered with a smile.

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  Nerya sighed and took the sword, stepping into her father’s place and holding it before her.

  She closed her eyes and focused, seeking to guide her mana into her hands and pass it through the wood.

  Several seconds passed and nothing happened, some of the soldiers beginning to laugh.

  “I cannot do it.

  I already struggle to do the least thing.

  I am too useless, papa,” Nerya finally said.

  Eldran stepped toward her, taking her hands and pressing them lightly.

  “I know you can do it, my daughter.

  Remember what I taught you.

  Imagine it as an extension of yourself.

  Imagine the wood as one with your fingers,” Eldran explained as he released her hands.

  Nerya closed her eyes again and began anew, her thoughts shaping the wooden sword not as an object, but as her own hands.

  A faint warmth spread from her palms.

  She opened her eyes and saw the guard veil itself in a red-orange aura, like small flames that vanished as soon as they appeared.

  “You see, you have done it.

  Now draw your own sword and begin again with it,” Eldran said.

  Nerya returned the wooden sword to her father and drew her own blade, taking her stance once more without heeding the gazes lingering upon her.

  I only came to bring cakes and train, not to make a spectacle of myself, she thought, vexed within.

  She repeated the same process, closing her eyes as indistinct murmurs pressed against her mind.

  The Signiloth stone set in the pommel began to pulse with a red glow.

  A faint breeze stirred from it as the same aura spread along the length of the blade.

  Yet though the sword was wholly covered, the red light wavered with instability.

  Nerya’s strength ebbed swiftly, the aura thinning before the stone at last dimmed and went dark.

  “I cannot go on, forgive me papa,” Nerya said, breathless.

  “Do not trouble yourself, my dear, that is very well,” Eldran answered with a wink.

  He straightened before the soldiers.

  Those who had laughed at Nerya’s state fell silent at once beneath his firm gaze.

  Nerya herself felt no pride, counting it a failure that she had faltered so soon.

  “Does it amuse you?

  She is but seven years of age and has trained more than most of you.

  Were you half so determined at her years, you would fully cloak that wooden blade.

  Yet it seems none of you have managed it,” Eldran said sharply.

  He gripped the wooden sword in turn and took his stance, fixing the recruits with a cold stare.

  The wood was instantly wrapped in a thick golden radiance, its edges sharp and steady compared to Nerya’s wavering glow.

  “If you believe yourselves skilled because you require no artifact to infuse your mana, you are sorely mistaken.

  Your level stands scarcely above that of a child,” he went on, pointing the blade toward them.

  The golden light drifted away in swirling wisps.

  Silence reigned among the ranks, all eyes fixed upon Eldran.

  “You are here to train, is that understood?

  You may hold any diploma from any academy, your parchment is worth nothing before an enemy,” he growled, his gaze unyielding.

  But the glow about the wooden sword faded at once as Eldran’s attention shifted to Nerya tugging at his tunic.

  “May I go, papa?

  I would see Telyssia,” she said shyly.

  “Ah… yes, yes, you may go, forgive me,” Eldran stammered.

  Nerya did not wait and hurried away before her father might ask more of her.

  She retrieved the cloth that held the cakes, then made for the training dummies where Telyssia was resting.

  “Good day, you.

  What brings you here?” Telyssia asked, wiping sweat from her brow.

  “I bring cakes mama made.

  We may eat them together,” Nerya replied with a smile.

  “Oh, thank you.

  I must go and thank her, it has been some time since I saw her with all this,” Telyssia said.

  Nerya untied the cloth and handed one of the cakes to Telyssia, who looked troubled upon seeing three portions within.

  “You have not yet gone to your father?

  I see there are three pieces,” she remarked.

  “I did, but we shall eat them together.

  He is not kind with me.

  He uses me as an example before the others,” Nerya answered with a pout.

  “Oh, my poor little Gyvreline, he made you suffer again,” Telyssia laughed.

  She set her cake aside and drew Nerya into her arms, stroking her hair and cheek.

  Nerya wished to pull away, yet remained, savoring the moment.

  After a few seconds, Telyssia released her and they resumed eating together.

  “You still train much, yet your test is not soon,” Nerya observed at last.

  “Aye, but I failed the others by little.

  I took it too lightly.

  I wish to be accepted, to join them and at last see Arinya again.

  It has been four years since she passed her examination.

  I have not seen her since, and I miss her somewhat,” she explained, her gaze growing distant.

  “I did not know her long.

  She left not long after the attack.

  But I am certain you shall join her.

  You are truly strong,” Nerya replied with a smile.

  Telyssia returned the smile, though too forced, her eyes still wandering.

  Seeing the talk had saddened her, Nerya finished her cake and took up the last piece.

  She cut it in two and held one half out to Telyssia.

  “I… I do not know if that is wise.

  If your mother learns of it, we shall be scolded again,” Telyssia said hesitantly.

  “Nay, I shall tell her papa was unkind, and he shall be punished instead.

  I am a pretty little girl,” Nerya declared, making soft eyes.

  “I would not wish you as an enemy.

  Only seven years and you already know how to wield your maiden charms.

  I pity the boys who shall chase after you,” Telyssia said with a sincere laugh.

  She took the piece at last and ate it, the air easing somewhat between them.

  When they had finished, Nerya rolled the cloth into a bundle and rose.

  “I must go.

  We must prepare father’s feast tonight.

  You will come to dine, will you not?” she asked earnestly.

  Telyssia narrowed her eyes at the word feast, then remembered, her face shifting to annoyance.

  “I had quite forgotten.

  Of course I shall come.

  Tell your mother I shall help once I am done here,” she replied.

  Nerya nodded and waved as she departed.

  Telyssia returned to her training while Nerya left the yard to make her way home.

  I would have liked to train a little more.

  I wish he would not use me as an example.

  He knows it drains me too swiftly, she thought with a sigh.

  After crossing the village, she reached her home and entered at once.

  Zephyra, in the kitchen, looked surprised to see her so soon.

  “Already returned?

  It has not even been two hours.

  I thought you meant to train,” she asked.

  “I trained, but I have no strength left, so I came back,” Nerya answered.

  “Humm, your father pressed you again, did he not?

  I told you, my daughter, you lie poorly,” Zephyra said with exasperation.

  She sat at the table with a small basket of apples, Nerya joining her.

  “Wait until he returns.

  I know not how many times I have told him to be mindful,” she went on.

  “Do not say anything, mama.

  I ate his cake instead, with Telyssia,” Nerya said with a smile.

  Zephyra set down her knife and fixed her daughter with a stern look, and Nerya dared not speak further.

  Then Zephyra laughed.

  “That is well, my dear.

  Continue so.

  It is thus they must be taught,” she said at last.

  She took up her knife again and handed another to Nerya along with a few apples.

  Together they began preparing the evening meal before Eldran and Telyssia returned much later.