Weeks have gone since their coming to Lord Blue Beard's academy, and as the days went by, Ashviel was gradually getting back to full training. He was however not entirely idle during his convalescence, as he spent his time learning sword techniques with Kael and Kyra. He discovered that the Rek crystals helped in casting spells better, and directing it without making it flail.
By the end of the fourth week, his wounds had healed completely and he resumed full practice with the students.
Luckily, Lord Blue Beard had had Sir Ginx spending most of his time inside, allowing Sir Mat Helsing to take his place as the instructor. The other knight was friendlier, and the students seem to agree with him better than they do with his counterpart.
He once addressed them one fine morning. "Do any of you have any idea what Tsezgera is?
A blank stare from the students gave a reply to his questions and Sir Mat Helsing nodded in acknowledgement.
"Tsezgera," he said, taking off his heavy boots, "is a technique used to propel oneself using wind and force Rek."
Ashviel immediately thought of Master Vauxall's feat at Mount Hogan, where he propelled himself over the mountain in one act. He listened raptly with an eye to learning the secret to Master Vauxall's technique.
Sir Mat Helsing flexed his long bare toes and ordered the students to take off their boots, which they did, confused at the order. The instructor then told them to hop around the field for a while before returning to the starting point. "Some sort of body honing? Kael thought.
"That was to relax your feet," said Instructor Mat Helsing, "because Tsezgera has to do with the feet. Do you all have wind portals in your feet?"
The students replied in the affirmative, all except two young men in the midst. Master Vauxall had told them to form several portals on all parts of their body, but the master did not emphasize on it, so they had taken the advice for granted, since the palms, as even Master Vauxall had told them, are the main and most convenient parts of the body for the passage of Rek.
Quickly, they set out to make the portals, and spent some time away from the crew. They returned a moment later with new portals in their feet, booming readily with Rek.
When they returned, they met their colleagues walking on tiptoes and joined the movement. "Very good," said Sir Mat Helsing when they finished the exercise. "Now pass a sliver of Rek under your foot from the central part and form a circular torrent with it."
They tried to expel wind Rek from their feet but found out it was difficult to keep it under without spreading away, let alone maintain a circular torrent of it."
"It's okay if you can't do it just immediately, said Mat Helsing, "but when you do, try to balance the current and then you…" He did not finish his statement but the students were left utterly astonished by his subsequent display.
Sir Mat Helsing appeared to walk on air, moving so naturally it seemed his feet were in contact with the ground. He smiled, and then quickly straightened his face, before crouching for a moment. The next, he was up in the sky like a fired bullet. His elevation was only about a tenth of Master Vauxall's, but it was enough to qualify as extraordinary.
He landed with ease, his descent slower than his jump. "After you create the torrent, you push yourself up by pushing down the wind. The lift will only be small, and that is where you use force Rek as a lever. Instead of pushing off the ground, you push off the force springboard. Your speed and altitude will then depend on the power of your wind and force Rek. You can create Tsezgera midair, going higher and higher, but I need not tell you how difficult and tiring that will be."
The students commenced practice at once, and Mat Helsing was pleased to see them train. Ashviel was able to gather that he was always on expeditions and seldom visits Lord Blue Beard, and when he does, he scarcely pays attention to the students. It seemed he had finally come to stay, and as Ashviel hoped, replace Sir Ginx forever.
By evening, none of them was able to perform a Tsezgera, though it was evident that a few more weeks of practice is what they needed to be able to use the technique. A few of them however managed to get to the first step, and Kael and Ashviel were among this faction.
To close the lesson, Sir Mat Helsing told a story about how he killed six rogue mages using the Tsezgera to his advantage. Although the tale was probably fabricated for illustration alone, Ashviel could see sense in the man's words.
Apart from its apparent application in climbing over tall buildings, Tsezgera could be used to extricate oneself from a barrage of attacks, or suddenly disappear from an enemy if the fighting terrain provided it. A powerful leap could make a huge difference between life and death.
They concluded the training with buoyant minds and moved over to the living quarters. Ashviel, Kael, Kyra, Smythe, and Manfred had formed a coterie among themselves, moving and training together. They each departed to their rooms, biding each other farewell as they reached their doorsteps. Finally, Ashviel and Kael were left alone, as their rooms were the farthest. As they were about to enter, Sasha called them and told them Master Vauxall wants to see them.
The master hardly leaves the room, and only summons them for a few exercises and scrolls. They changed directions and headed for his quarters.
"Who is Archmage Kunbag again?" Ashviel asked as they ascended the stairs.
"Kunbag?" answered Kael. "Never heard of him."
"But you mentioned him against Manny," said Ashviel.
Kael stood still for a moment second, then threw his head back and cut loose with a laugh that only irritated Ashviel. "Gunparch, not Kumbag," he japed at Ashviel.
Ashviel frowned, "I said Kunbag not Kumbag. Anyways, who is he?"
"He's an archmage who lives around Capricorn, though he's not exactly a friend or an enemy to them. You can say he's neutral."
"I see."
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He sat there, rapping his long but neat nails on the table impatiently. He had sunken eyes, so deep-set they appear to be missing in his bony face. He was tall, thin, and with frail fingers that appear to snap every time he landed them on the table. For all his cadaver features, he was dressed elegantly in attires befitting a man of his status.
He wore a long black loose-fitting glazed robe and leather shoes. Three gold necklaces rested heavily from his neck to his chest, with small silver pendants hanging down from each. As he sat alone in the empty room, he kept looking edgily from the door and the papers in his hands.
Finally, the large door was flung open and Lord Commander Trost entered with General Okhotnik.
"You've waited for quite long, Duke Adnan," the Lord Commander addressed the man.
Duke Adnan pinned a disdainful gaze at the General. "I thought I came to see the Lord Commander, and not his chief advisor."
"You distress yourself when you think evil of me," retorted the General in a calm yet equally icy tone. Clearly, the two did not get along well.
"Relax you both," said the Lord Commander, taking a seat between them.
"Forgive me, my Lord," said General Okhotnik, "Duke Adnan has always been hostile to the Livasai Corps."
"And for good reasons," cried the Duke in his stiff voice.
Lord Commander Trost cleared his throat loudly and General Okhotnik took a seat beside him. "I believe you came to seek my help, Adnan?"
"Yes."
"And you know quite well that Okhotnik is the one who carries out the dirty jobs."
"I do."
"Then go straight to the point and stop your silly display."
The duke was slightly offended by his words, but decided it was to be tolerated, since he came to seek a huge favor. He heaved loudly though, then brought out a scroll which he handed to the Lord Commander.
"I see," said the Lord Commander after going through the paper. He gave it to his chief advisor who also perused the document.
"So you want us to clear the Tharis for you Azborgs, in return for what?" the Lord Commander asked.
"I believe we can discuss that some other time," replied Duke Adnan, eyeing the General as he spoke.
"The Tharis are a friendlier clan. Are you sure you want us to annihilate them for the Azborgs?" General Okhotnik cautioned.
"Perhaps we will, but I would listen to what the Duke has to offer."
"Splendid," said Duke Adnan with a dead smile.
"Even so," continued General Okhotnik, "such killings will be senseless. The Tharis have done nothing wrong, if we should wipe out anyone, it should be these Azborgs. You will only ruin Capricorn by doing away with the Thari clan and listening to an Azborg chief."
Lord Commander Trost slammed his hand heavily on the table, splitting the elm council board in one strike. "Need I remind you Okhotnik," he said firmly, "that I am the Lord Commander?"
"Again forgive me," said the General with a contemplative stare.
"And if you'll please, I have a discussion with the duke."
"Very well" said the chief advisor, "I'll have my men do as you please."
"Better," remarked Trost and General Okhotnik stepped out the room with a thoughtful face. He got out of the room and smiled gently, caressing his goatee.
'Unexpected developments at times create the best chances,' he said to himself.
Schemes are in motion, conspiracies are building up, and events are waiting to unfold.