Meetle, with a giant grin, walks over to Garrick, who is sitting bored.
"Hey Garrick, look at this!" Meetle focuses on his arm as the blue apparition limb slowly forms over his stump, replacing his missing arm.
Garrick, impressed, quickly walks over to Meetle and tries to swipe his hand through the magic arm but surprisingly feels a solid limb, not flesh but a solid, almost cold-like surface.
"How long have you been practising that for?" Garrick asks with intrigue.
"Oh, about an hour or so. It's pretty tricky to maintain; it makes my head hurt having to focus so much." Meetle laughs as he rubs his head.
"I've been reading this book for a while, and it is mind-numbing. I need a break. Kyra's at the training ground ahead; want to come?" Garrick proposes.
"Sure! I'll grab a few books first; all this magic is really quite interesting." Meetle grabs a few random books from the shelf and quickly shuffles after Garrick.
"Metal to metal, the up close and personal is where the real action is. Follow me." Garrick boasts.
Walking toward the training area, Kyra is in the corner inspecting a bow and some arrows; her face obscured from their view. Garrick grabs a one-handed sword from the wall and walks to the training dummy in the centre of the sandy area. It is clad head to toe in military armour, with padded leather in the gaps between. It holds a wooden sword and shield, and the helmet is empty. Garrick pulls his sword back behind his body.
"Watch this, Meetle." Garrick says, invigorated.
"I wonder why it has a sword and shield if it's just a target dummy." Meetle ponders.
Garrick swings forward in a sweeping motion to the right side of the dummy with ferocity, but in an instant, the dark, lifeless helmet spawns two glowing green eyes as it effortlessly deflects Garrick's attack and slashes upward, smashing into Garrick's jaw, causing his vision to go hazy. Concussed, he barely keeps a hold of the blade as the dummy walks forward and shoulder barges Garrick, who is launched backwards, clattering to the ground, dusty sand covering his body and dropping the sword in the process. The dummy returns to his starting position again as the eyes go dark again.
Kyra turns around, showing a bruise on her cheek.
"I didn't realise it was alive either." She quietly and shamefully admits.
Garrick coughs as he stands up shakily, wiping the sand off his body.
"It's alive? There's nothing in there, though, just some armour and padding." Garrick spits out some sand as he shakes his once black, now yellow hair as sand and dust fly everywhere.
"Magic can animate lifeless objects. I'd wager a spell like that is used." Meetle guesses but isn't entirely sure.
Garrick bends over to pick up his sword again, and as he grasps the hilt, the dummy leaps forward, standing on the blade and punching Garrick back, who now clatters into the wall.
"Maybe you should focus on magic for now. You're already good with a blade." Meetle suggests.
"I ain't good with a blade, and I'll read another book when I manage to smash this thing to pieces." Garrick annoyingly says, his voice gaining volume with his frustration.
"Yeah, Meetle, let him just get beat up by a suit of armour; it's making me laugh." Kyra giggles at the side.
"You're more than welcome to try yourself, or is your cheek too sore to move?" Garrick mocks Kyra.
"Big talk from a guy who has a crazy healing factor. Even with those fuzzball things help, I've got wounds still." Kyra snaps back. "You got some dust on you still, idiot."
"It's okay, I understand...you're too weak to train. You sit and relax, princess." Garrick smirks as he gets ready to battle the animated armour again.
"I know you're trying to goad me...and it's working, asshole!!" Kyra annoyingly shouts as she stands up with her bow and arrow, moves to the other end of the sandy arena and nocks an arrow.
"Okay, I'll leave you both to this...training. I'll be in the main chamber reading up spells. As Meetle takes his leave, Kyra steps onto the sand as the animated armour sparks up, the lower half spinning around and chasing her, then the upper turning afterwards.
"Fuck, you're fast!" Kyra is taken aback at the sheer quickness as she draws her bow back taut. She Releases an arrow towards the animated armour, but it dodges easily as Garrick is hit by the blunt arrow in the side of his stomach as he reaches for his weapon.
"Watch it, idiot!" Garrick shouts.
"That's my line, idiot!" Kyra shouts back.
The armour swings at Kyra, who bends backwards on her tiptoes to dodge the swing and fores an arrow upwards toward the helmet, but the armour pulls its sword arm back and blocks the arrow with its forearm and finishes the fight with an elbow into her gut as she thuds against the ground leaving her winded and gasping for breath. The brief skirmish was too quick for Garrick even to get involved as by the time he picked up the sword and was ready, the armour had already won and was turned around, charging Garrick with unrelenting zeal.
"Shit." Is all Garrick can say.
Garrick swings from the right as the armour thrusts his sword in retaliation, but Garrick stops mid-swing and spins in the opposite direction, barely dodging the thrust as he rotates left, swinging towards the opposite side now. The armour quickly and efficiently ducks down just enough to avoid the strike as it brings its elbow upwards, slamming into Garrick's elbow causing it to get jarred, making him release his grip.
"Argh! What the fuck" Garrick painfully says through clenched teeth.
The armour stands facing Garrick, staring for a few seconds before dropping down and sweeping Garrick's legs from under him, causing him to slam into the ground, forcing sand to scatter everywhere as the armour takes its place in the centre again and deactivates.
Garrick and Kyra struggle to their feet in pain.
"This thing is fucking impossible." Garrick defeatedly utters, lying on the ground.
"If you moved instead of watching me, then we'd have a chance." Kyra barks at Garrick.
"I was busy rubbing my arrow wound from a dumbass amateur archer." Garrick quickly fires a verbal arrow at Kyra.
"Kyra and Garrick squabble for some time before trying again to land a single strike against the armour but fail every time. Hours pass for them.
Thirty-five attempts, thirty-five failures.
Kyra and Garrick are covered in bruises, scratches, and sand as they pant in exhaustion from what they believe is a wasted day. They Walk back towards the main chamber where Meetle sits with a stack of books beside him, partially hiding him except for his legs as they kick in joy from reading. Meetle pokes his head out from behind the books and, seeing his friends, jumps off the seat.
"You two look exhausted; how about some dinner?! I had a chance to look around here, and it's like a house. Everything we could want is in here!" Meetle excitedly voices.
Kyra and Garrick ignore Meetle and slowly sulk toward the centre of the room before turning in opposite directions towards their bedrooms.
"Oh...or sleep is good." Meetle quietly utters. "Must've been quite the challenge for them. It's not like them to be so quiet." He adds.
Meetle walks toward the training arena and stands in front of the sand as he stares at the armour.
Meetle gulps as he shakily summons his apparition limb and steps forward onto the sand, activating the armour as it lunges toward Meetle.
"AAAHHH!!" Meetle screams in shock before hastily chanting as a ball of fire is expelled from the magic hand toward the armour. It raises its shield, but the impact is too significant as it blows a hole through the wooden shield and fires into the void of the helmet. It stops as it collapses backwards in a heap, presumably dead, before quickly standing back up as it retakes its place at the centre. The armour speaks to Meetle.
"Lalrin Meetlemire, level one is complete, and level two is activating."
The shield reforges, with added metal as supports, as the armour lunges again.
"Wait, level two?! AHHH!!!" MEETLE SHRIEKS.
After some time, Meetle, too, walks into the centre chamber, bruised and dishevelled, before slumping away into his sleeping chambers.
End chapter