Chapter 11: The Price of Mastery
The sky is darker than usual, the clouds hanging low and heavy, a sign that rain's just around the corner. But I'm not focused on that. I'm focused on the feeling of the sword in my hand. The cold steel, slick with sweat, the weight of it settling into my grip as I move into position.
Rune's standing across from me, his usual expression of unreadable calm on his face. If I didn't know better, I'd say he's got a hint of amusement in his eyes. But I don't have time to worry about that now. I'm too busy trying to get this martial art down.
It's harder than I expected. Way harder.
I've spent the past few days training with Rune, every move a struggle to control. His martial art is like lightning—unpredictable, yet precise. I have the speed and strength, sure, but what he's trying to teach me goes beyond that. It's about flow, control, and an almost unnatural awareness of the space around you.
But it doesn't come easily.
"Again," Rune says, his voice cutting through the air, sharper than the gusts of wind starting to pick up. "Don't think, just move."
Right. Don't think. Just move. Easier said than done.
I take a breath, tightening my grip on the sword. I don't need to look at him to know he's waiting for me to make a move. His stance is relaxed, yet there's tension in the air around him, like a storm just before it breaks. I try not to overthink it.
I rush forward, sword raised, aiming for his left side. It's a simple strike, but the moment I make contact, he sidesteps, the movement fluid like water, and my blade meets nothing but air.
Shit.
He's too fast. Too fluid. And I'm still trying to catch up.
"You're stiff," Rune says, his voice so casual it's almost maddening. "You're trying to force the movement. Stop. Let the sword move with you."
I grit my teeth and try again. I'm not going to give up, not when I'm this close. But again, I miss. My sword slams into the dirt beside him as he dodges effortlessly.
"Focus, Damian," Rune presses, his tone no longer just a lesson but something sharper. "Stop trying to beat me. Try to read me."
I pause, the words sinking in. Read him. That's what this is about. It's not just about strength or speed; it's about anticipating the move before it happens.
It's about controlling yourself.
"Try again," Rune says, the command simple but unyielding. "If you can't control yourself, you won't control the fight."
I don't know how long we've been at it, but my body's starting to feel the strain. The rain has started to fall, but it's not enough to slow us down. My arms burn with every swing, and my legs feel like they might buckle at any second, but I refuse to stop.
This is the price of mastery. The price of becoming something more than I am.
I take another deep breath, my mind clearing. I don't need to think about the next move. I just need to feel it. I move, stepping closer, keeping my eyes locked on Rune's every shift, every movement. His foot shifts slightly, and that's all I need.
I strike, faster this time, with more purpose. I feel the shift of the wind as my sword slices through it, and this time, when I swing, I don't miss. Rune's body jerks back just as my blade grazes his shoulder, and for the first time, I don't feel like I've failed.
I smile.
"I didn't miss," I say, barely able to contain the pride in my voice.
Rune raises an eyebrow, but there's no smile. He's studying me, weighing my performance.
"Not bad," he says, his tone neutral. "But you're still rushing. You're too eager. The sword should be an extension of you, not an object you're swinging around."
I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. It's progress, even if it's small.
"Right," I mutter. "I get it."
He doesn't say anything else at first. I think I've lost his attention, but then he steps forward, closing the distance between us. For a moment, I think he's going to strike, but instead, he places a hand on my shoulder. It's firm, but there's something almost reassuring about the gesture.
"You're not there yet," Rune says, his voice low. "But you're getting closer."
I nod, feeling a sense of determination build inside me. "I'll get there."
Rune doesn't respond right away. Instead, he watches me for a long moment, his gaze sharp, assessing. "You've got more potential than I gave you credit for. Just remember—this isn't about strength. It's about control. You need to control your mind before you can control your body."
It's the same thing he's been saying over and over again. Control.
I clench my fists, resolve hardening inside me. I won't let this beat me. No matter how hard it gets, I'm going to learn. I'm going to master this. I'll make Rune proud.
"Alright," I say, wiping the rain from my brow. "I'm ready for round two."
Rune looks at me one last time, and for the first time since we started training, I see the faintest trace of approval in his eyes.
"Let's go," he says.
And I step forward.