The next few days passed in a blur of rigorous training and slow sweet moments with Mother and Elara. Between sessions, Gunnar arrived with news: the knights had received the latest batch of armor, while the damaged pieces that had returned were already being processed for repairs by House Blackwood. I sent Lucian with him to oversee the progress. When he returned, he reported that the repairs had only just begun, with everything still in the preliminary stages.
I found myself in the training room soon after. The vast, grand space stretched out before me, its white walls adorned with intricate swirling patterns that pulsed faintly with life. A gentle hum resonated through the air, the essence woven into the very fabric of the room, an ever-present energy that seemed to breathe with me. Standing in the center of this enigmatic place, I let out a slow breath, allowing my posture to loosen.
"Come out," I said, my voice steady, cutting through the silence like a blade.
For a moment, nothing stirred—then I felt it. Essence began to converge behind me, a palpable shift in the air, like a storm gathering just out of sight.
"Greetings, your Highness," a voice replied at last, its tone void of warmth or humanity. It was a stoic, monotone sound, neither masculine nor feminine—an echo of something both ancient and alien.
I turned slowly, and my eyes fell upon the figure emerging from the swirling essence. A metallic blend of dark silver and shimmering steel, its presence was hauntingly still, its features obscured by the smooth, mask-like visage it wore.
"Why don't we train today?" I asked, tilting my head, my tone carrying a playful challenge.
"I wouldn't dare," came the response, unflinching, emotionless.
"And why wouldn't you?" I pressed, taking a step forward, my lips curving into a faint smirk. "I think it's time I found out just how powerful my protector really is."
I didn't give him the chance to reply. In a flash, my figure blurred, essence crackling in the air as I disappeared. The moment hung suspended in time, and then I reappeared behind him, my silver sword already materialized and slashing downward, a streak of luminous energy cleaving toward his head.
He didn't move, didn't flinch, the darkness behind him looked at my blade as it sliced cleanly through him, as though he were made of smoke. His body dispersed, shimmering particles dissolving into nothingness. I felt the essence behind me shift again. Whirling around, I found him standing where I had been moments earlier, his form reconstituting with effortless precision.
"Interesting," I murmured, my smirk widening into a grin. The thrill of the challenge coursed through me.
New powers. New fights. This would be fun.
I slashed through the air once more, the silver streak of my blade flashing like a comet toward him. He dodged to the side with uncanny speed, and as I pivoted to follow, the sword in my hand morphed seamlessly into a crossbow. I fired a single silver bolt, its gleaming trajectory aimed directly at his evasive figure. The bolt collided with the scabbard at his side, dispersing into glittering specks of essence as he drew his weapon in one fluid motion.
A sudden flare of instinct burned through me like a warning. I leapt to the side just as his blade came slashing down where I had been standing, his previous form dissipating into smoke. He had moved faster than I anticipated, his new position above me revealed in the instant his dark blade crashed down.
"Very interesting," I said, grinning as I straightened. The rush of adrenaline was intoxicating. White horns protruded from my head, curling slightly as my fangs extended, sharp and predatory. My claws followed, gleaming as they caught the ambient glow of the room.
The essence coursing through my body doubled, a wild, untamed surge that made every nerve hum with power. My silver eyes gleamed with anticipation.
In the next heartbeat, our swords collided. The clang of metal on metal rang out as my movements blurred, leaving behind shimmering silver afterimages. His dark sword pulsed with strange, ember-like glows, the patterns etched along its length now radiating faint silver hues where it absorbed the energy of my strikes. Each time our weapons met, I could feel my essence draining.
Then, without warning, my sword shifted again, its blade unraveling into a silver whip. The shimmering coils lashed out, twisting around his hands and sword, binding them both in place. He jerked back with a sharp motion, his free hand darting forward to deliver a punch. I raised my hand just in time, a silver shield materialising before me. His fist struck the barrier with enough force to crack it, but I retaliated with a swift kick that sent him staggering back.
I yanked the whip hard, the sudden motion wrenching his sword from his grasp. The weapon flew through the air, humming with raw essence, before it dissolved into light. Yet in the blink of an eye, it reappeared in his scabbard as if it had never left.
He lunged at me again, his movements growing sharper, more aggressive. I summoned a shield to block his strikes, but each strike of his sword sent a jarring vibration through the silver shield. The shield was weakening under the relentless assault. At close range now, I shifted tactics—a silver dagger formed in my hand, and I slashed at his throat. He deflected the blade with a dark silver shield that was bound around his wrist, its surface shimmering like liquid metal.
Then, without hesitation, he released his sword entirely. It vanished as his hands moved with blinding speed. We fought hand-to-hand, my claws meeting his bare fists, though I conjured shields to block his heavier strikes. Our figures blurred, essence crackling as we flashed from one spot to another across the vast training room.
His next attack came suddenly, claws arcing toward my chest. I dodged at the last second, but his other hand raked across my neck, leaving streaks of burning silver-red marks in its wake. The pain flared hot as a dark smoke lingered over the marks, but I didn't falter. Instead, I caught his wrist, gripping it tightly as a silver spear materialized behind him.
The weapon struck true, plunging through his chest with a burst of light. His form shuddered, essence rippling outward as he dispersed once more. Yet this time, the silver current lingered, threading through the fog of his dissipating figure. When he reappeared at a distance, his form was hazier, less solid, as though the toll of each reformation was wearing him down.
"So, what is your power, really?" I asked, laughter bubbling in my throat as I allowed the essence within me to flow unchecked. The smoke around my wound slowly dispersed into nothing as my wound closed with silver essence. My horns pulsed with light, my silver eyes gleaming as dozens of spears formed behind me, each one aimed at him like the teeth of an impending storm.
"You disperse and reform each time you're fatally injured," I said, studying him. "But it's not limitless. The higher the damage you take, the more essence you burn. Eventually, you'll run out."
One spear launched forward, tearing through the space between us with a flash of light. He raised his sword, the blade absorbing the blow as the silver energy flowed into its patterns, illuminating them with renewed brightness. His figure seemed to stabilize slightly, as though the sword had restored some of his strength.
"Then there's your sword," I added. "It drains essence from anything it touches, doesn't it? Reinforcing your reserves while weakening your opponent. A dangerous advantage in a drawn-out fight."
"I am humbled," he replied, bowing his head slightly.
"No need to be modest," I said, dispersing the spears with a flick of my wrist. In a flash, I was in front of him, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"I didn't even come close to beating you," I admitted with a smirk. "But it looks like I've found myself a new training partner."
As I turned and walked toward the door, I cast one last glance over my shoulder.
"Next time, let's have fun, Arion Hawthorne," I said.
The door closed behind me with a low thud, leaving the training room empty once more, its swirling essence patterns pulsing faintly in the silence.