Chapter 4, Book 2: The Mirror Warrior

After eating and sleeping, Grathen looked even more alive, which had the benefit of calming Sal’s fears. The old Hatharen sat and watched as Linara ran the girl through a set of exercises, showing her techniques more suited to her heavy, curved blade. Partway through, he started looking around, frowning, before standing up and approaching the pair.

“May I?” He asked, extending his hand down towards Sal. The girl looked up at the towering figure in confusion. “Your sword. For a moment.”

Frowning, she looked to Linara, who shrugged. While she was curious as to what Grathen wanted, it would be wrong to tell Sal to give up her weapon. After some consideration, the girl did hand it over.

With speed belying his size, he surged towards Linara, chopping horizontally. She scrambled backwards, barely blocking the attack with her spear, the weight of the blade slamming into the shaft. She felt like it might have been wrenched out of her grip if not for all her experience.

Spinning back, he held the sword in front of him, then spun his wrist while moving his arm, weaving the sword around his body. Twirling forward, he looked to aim a feint at Linara’s shoulder. She made a slight move to parry, but he suddenly increased the speed of his movement, striking her blindingly fast with a commitment she was unprepared to react to.

The edge of the blade skittered along the surface of her armor despite the force behind the blow. Recovering from the attack, Grathen walked back to Sal and returned the sword to her. “No good against armor.” He said, before collapsing heavily into a sitting position. He panted, heavily, sweat covering his shirtless torso. “And I don’t have the stamina to fight yet.”

Linara looked to Sal, finding the girl staring at him. “Do you think you can replicate what he did?” She asked.

After a heartbeat, the girl looked back to Linara, her face flushed. “I, um, might.” She said, bringing up her weapon. She held it in front of her, then flexed her wrist, slowly rotating the sword, then added in an arm movement. The motion was slower and simpler than what Grathen had done, but from just a single look, the girl was able to copy the basis of the movement.

“That’s very impressive.” He said, smiling from his sitting position. Sal immediately fumbled her motion, dropping the sword, her face growing even redder under his praise.

“Let’s stop for today. We should find a town, and hopefully they will have clothes that fit you. Sal, come with me.”

She lead the girl down the hill, around the bushes that hid the statue and their campsite. “Yesterday you were terrified of him.”

“He doesn’t look like a corpse any more.”

Linara frowned. “Weren’t you cozying up to one of the recruits back in Bavmont?”

Sal responded by shrugging. “He was nice to me, but we hardly knew each other. I’m not going to be cozying up to Grathen, if you really must know. He’s old. Really old. Older than history. He just looks good for his age. Now that he doesn’t look like a corpse.”

“Do you want to look at shirtless men or do you want to learn how to fight?” Linara snapped, louder than she intended. Sal shrunk back, becoming even smaller. Linara felt a pang of guilt, but didn’t relent. She held her gaze on the girl.

“Learning is my first priority.” She said after taking some time. Standing up straight, she met Linara’s gaze. “When I learn how to fight, I’ll be able to look at all the men I want.”

“You’re an idiot.” Linara said, turning to walk back to camp. “Lesson ten is that when you find the right person, you won’t need anyone else. You don’t see me rubbing my eyes all over everyone we meet.”

Whatever expression Sal made at that, Linara didn’t see it, but the girl did not say anything in response.

As they traveled, Linara continued to instruct Sal, with the occasional input from Grathen. He seemed mildly familiar with the type of sword she had, and corrected some of Linara’s suggestions.

On a whim, Linara led Sal to a clearing with a tree, and with one smooth motion, turned and threw her knife at the tree. After retrieving it, she handed it to the girl. “Can you replicate that?” She asked. Knife throwing was more than just forms and motions. It would be extremely impressive if she could copy it successfully.

Sal held the blade in her hand, staring at her target. After a moment, she changed her grip, holding the knife by her leg, as if it were in an invisible sheath, before copying Linara’s movement and throwing it.

It bounced off the tree, landing in the dirt. “I had to guess what your hand was doing.” Sal said, picking up the knife and handing it back to Linara. “Minor details are hard to see.”

Linara nodded. The girl didn’t have any special combat ability, but a combination of a very good memory and awareness of where her body was, allowing her to see and copy motions easily. “You’re going at things the wrong way, then.”

“What do you mean?”

Linara smiled. “You’re trying to copy people who you see as strong, because you think that will allow you to be strong. It’s a waste of your talents.”

Her smile was met with a frown from Sal. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Don’t copy.” She said, unslinging her spear from her back. “Instead, exploit. Memorize the details of an attack, and counter it. You can do this faster than most. If you are watching the body properly, you can react to a strike you’ve seen before, before it actually happens.” Assuming a fighting stance with her weapon backwards, Linara swung her spear, replicating one of the attacks she had used during the tournament. “If I do that against you, can you beat it?”

Sal’s eyes widened, and then narrowed. Setting her jaw, she nodded, and drew her sword, assuming a basic stance. Linara struck, with the exact same form as before. Sal moved the instant she committed to the motion, swaying out of the path of the attack and slapping Linara on the shoulder with the flat of her blade. Her own strike was a perfect copy of Grathen’s attack.

There was a perfect moment there, as the girl’s mouth pulled into a wide smile, her eyes almost glowing with joy. Then, almost immediately, she was serious again, falling back into her fighting stance. “Do another.” She demanded, meeting Linara’s eyes.

“Soldiers perform hundreds, if not thousands of drills, practicing to perfection. You can use that to your advantage, but you have to counter them hard. If an opponent realizes what you can do, they will never use the same attack twice, or start adding small variations to throw you off.” Linara performed a simple thrust, one she hadn’t used in Bavmont at all. Sal easily blocked it, and nodded at her. Linara repeated the attack, and Sal stepped inwards, pushing the blow to the side while extending her foot in a kick to Linara’s stomach, pulling back at the last moment to dampen the blow. Smiling, Linara did the attack a third time, but moved slower at first, not quite a feint, but just different enough to throw off Sal’s timing, putting power into the thrust late, pushing the dull butt of the weapon into Sal’s side.

“I get it.” She said, smiling despite her apparent defeat. “You’re right, I was only thinking about copying, not reacting.”

Linara nodded, and they started on the next part of her training.

The next day, they arrived at a small village. After a bit of asking, Linara led the group to the local seamstress, presenting Grathen. After a bit of measuring and waiting for her to make adjustments to accommodate his frame, they had two sets of basic clothes for him, replacing the half-disintegrated leggings as well. The shoemaker required additional time, so the three of them left him to his work, instead stopping at the tavern. It was barely populated, and the lone person working there told them to sit down and wait for him.

“Tell me about the coins you are using.” Grathen said as the three sat down. Linara raised an eyebrow. “They are different from what was used in my time.”

Reaching into her pouch, Linara set four coins on the table. A copper triangle, a bronze circle, a silver hexagon, and a gold square. Sal’s eyes lingered on the last piece. Linara pushed the triangle and the hexagon forward. “These two are the most commonly used pieces. Triangles for small purchases, hexagons for larger ones. Lodging for the night will probably be a hex or two. If you want some alcohol to drink you’ll be looking at a few triangles. Other food will be part of our lodging fee.”

Nodding, Grathen pointed to the other two. “And those?”

Flipping the circle onto its edge, Linara let it roll across the table until it tipped back onto its face. “These are more commonly used outside the independent lands. The kingdoms use them interchangeably with the hex piece. You can usually give people either one, but they will drastically prefer city coins. The square, however.” She picked up the final piece, holding it between her fingers. “Too large for most casual purchases. We could have food and rooms here for a month with just this one, and change to spare.” Seeing Sal’s eyes following it, Linara flicked it in her direction, the girl grabbing it and staring at it, eyes widening.

“Really?”

“Call it an allowance.” Linara said, shrugging. “You want some gear or supplies, you have the ability to get them on your own.”

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Sal blushed, but pocketed the coin. “Thank you.”

“Do I get an allowance, mother?” Grathen asked.

Linara coughed, but recovered quickly. “You can work for money.”

Frowning, he gestured towards Sal. “I helped you with her training.”

“And we shared our supplies on the road, then bought you clothes and shoes.”

“That you did.” He said with a sigh. “So, what kind of work is in my future?”

Shrugging, Linara gave him a smile. “You don’t have to follow us, and in fact I’d prefer you didn’t. Not because I want you gone,” She quickly added, seeing his concerned expression, “But because there is something else you need to do, and I’m going in the wrong direction.”

“You have a task for me.”

“Hatharen do their best to keep track of each other in the human lands, for communication. There aren’t that many of us, and a whole lot of space for us to get lost in. There’s someone who keeps track of us, to a loose degree, and so you should go to her. I can write you a letter of introduction to take with you, since you don’t have a knife.”

“Is there something special about your knife?” He asked, curious.

Pausing for a moment, Linara eventually drew the weapon and handed it to him. “We all have one. They identify us, showing proof of who we are. If you ever see a human with one, you should find out where they got it from. Go far enough back and you’ll find a Hatharen.”

Taking the knife from her, he didn’t look at it, instead meeting her eyes. “And you have the habit of throwing this unique and valuable thing around?”

“I’m very good at throwing it, and even better at getting it back.” She smiled at him.

“Huh.” He replied, looking at it, his eyes immediately focusing harder as he saw the inscription on the blade. “I see, very interesting. I guess I’ll be needing one as well, won’t I?”

“Eventually. You’ll have to head to a stronghold for that, and it’ll be interesting getting you back. Taradira - the one you need to meet - can help you with that, probably.”

“You two have fought monsters, right? Real monsters?” Sal suddenly asked, cutting into the conversation. The other two looked at her. “Linara mentioned it before. Having fought them. I was curious about that. Is that what your people do?”

“We don’t give humans the details. I shouldn’t have said anything. Please forget about it.” Linara responded, giving Grathen a sharp look. Things were different in his time, it seemed.

“Please? I won’t tell anyone.”

“I’m curious as to why.” Grathen said.

Linara sighed. “Humans are curious. Say ‘Don’t go here, monsters will kill you and you won’t be able to fight back.’ And humans will rush over to see if it’s really true or not. Let them think, on their own, that there is nothing there, at all, and they’ll ignore it. ‘What’s beyond the mountains?’ Nothing is beyond the mountains.”

“What do you mean I won’t be able to fight back?” Sal asked, predictably.

“There’s nothing beyond the mountains, Sal.”

“You just said there are monsters there.”

“I lied.” Linara responded, as Grathen smiled at the exchange.

“Linara…” Sal groaned, giving her a pleading look. “Won’t you please tell me? I promise I won’t go there, I just want to know.”

“Have you ever seen an animal freeze when they spot you?” Grathen asked.

Sal nodded. “Yeah. Sometimes when they think you haven’t noticed, they go completely still. Others will do the same thing when they know they can’t get away.”

“They know you are a predator they can’t fight back against. Even if they’ve never seen a human before, they know the magnitude of the threat. Imagine there is a predator out there that is like that to humans. You see it and your mind goes blank, your muscles become tense, your joints lock up. You can’t think, you can’t move. You are rooted on the spot.” He dropped his voice as he spoke, leaning forward. “A creature, as big as me, walks forward. You see pale skin, stretched tightly over bones that seem too large. The thing opens its mouth, showing you two rows of sharp, pointed teeth. You want to scream, want to run, but you can’t. Something inside you knows you’d never outrun it, never overpower it. It bites into you, tearing your flesh. You become the thing’s next meal, just as the squirrels you hunted for us on the road were our dinner.”

At the end of his speech, Sal swallowed, looking from Grathen to Linara. “Is that true?” She whispered.

“Resh wanted to see them.” Grathen said. “I advised him against it, over and over, but in the end I could not say no to him. We found one. He told me, afterward, how it felt. To stand there, unable to do anything, simply watching me fight. He was lucky that there weren’t very many of them.”

“Surely not everyone is like that. If someone was-“

“You’re doing the human thing where you want to go and see for yourself, to prove us wrong.” Linara said, frowning. “This is why we keep it a secret. You tell humans that something will kill them, and they want to prove that they are special.”

Grathen grinned at her. “Why don’t you share how it affects you?”

Linara glared at him. “What does he mean?” Sal asked.

“A half-human like her can’t fight those monsters at full strength. They suffer for their blood.”

Sal looked to Linara, her eyes wide. “We get sick. Vomiting, headaches, feeling weak. It’s hard to fight for very long, since the closer I get, the worse it is. More than a few minutes and it becomes unbearable.”

“But you fought them anyway?”

She nodded. “It’s rare for them to appear in large numbers, luckily. Most fights are short. Now, promise me you won’t go there, and you won’t tell anyone else about it.”

Sal nodded vigorously, and Grathen laughed. “We scared some sense into her, it seems.”

“You did that.” Linara said, glaring at him again. It would have been easier if he had just followed her lead. “I think we were forgotten about. I’ll go see about getting us rooms and food.” She stood up and went to check the back of the tavern.

The next day, they found a local blacksmith, and while he didn’t have any weapons, he did have some crude iron bars. Finding one of a decent length, Linara tried to pay him money to borrow it, but he didn’t care, as long as they brought it back. Finding an empty space nearby, she squared up against Sal and went at the girl, showing her a number of standard longsword swings, then changing her grip and using it like a rapier. At first, Linara would do the same attack twice, giving Sal a chance to block and then counter the repeated attempt, but later on would go from one attack to the next, showing her several different strikes in a row before repeating any of them. Even then, Sal’s memory came through, and she repeatedly slapped Linara with her blade, or used her legs to kick. Despite having one hand free in most of her movements, Sal never tried punching.

Despite playing deliberately into Sal’s strengths, Linara got tired of losing. Rather than trick the girl, she changed her style once more, switching to a reverse grip and lashing out in a quick strike. Sal cried out in pain as she was struck on the upper arm, staggering backwards. “That’s enough for now.” Linara said, noticing the reaction. That was the first time she had truly hit Sal. Up until now, she had never tried to actually fight the girl seriously, instead demonstrating techniques or challenging her to guard. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

Her strike had not been overly strong, and the girl was wearing her chainmail over her shirt, so Linara figured her reaction was more to the shock of it than any real damage. “Let me see your arm.” Linara said. Shedding her mail, the girl rolled up her sleeve, presenting her arm to Linara. A light bruise was already forming, but nothing more. “Learning how to take blows is important, but that was the first time you’ve been struck that hard, wasn’t it?”

“My parents hit me before.”

Linara opened her mouth to specify in combat, but closed it. “I see.” She said. Linara had heard of some humans doing that. It was an oddity among them; a core part of their culture, both accepted but looked down upon. “I’m going to return this to smith.” She said, holding up her iron stick. “Can you find Grathen and bring him there?”

Silently, Sal nodded, turning and walking off. Linara let out a breath as she walked away. Sal was not the same as Senral. She had been very hard on the prince, but the girl did not have the same kind of training. She needed to be slower with this one.

Grathen, now with both clothes and shoes, arrived at the blacksmith’s workshop. In a very short amount of time he was exchanging information with the human worker, giving accurate details of ancient techniques while marveling at modern advancements. “It was common for me.” Was his explanation to the question of how he knew such things, and the man was readily accepting of the idea that Hatharen were just strange. Linara didn’t feel that Grathen’s hibernation was a secret, but she didn’t feel like explaining the multitude of things for it to make sense to humans.

“The pay he was offering is very good. You can get yourself started here, and eventually head south.” Linara said once they were back at their table in the tavern.

Running a hand over his face, Grathen pushed his lips together. He showed almost no signs of going without food or water for thousands of years at this point, likely fully restored to his condition before entering the coffin. “I’ll take the job. With access to the equipment in the workshop, I can even make my own weapon with the tools in the shop. Hopefully I won’t be here too long.”

“Are you sure you can’t just give him the money to get to this person?” Sal asked, frowning.

Shaking her head, Linara answered the question. “I have enough to get the two of us to Olentor, and a bit more beyond that. Can’t pay for a third person to go all the way to Ettsgras on top of that. Also, I’m sure he doesn’t want to rely on me for everything.”

“You really are like a mother.” Grathen said, smiling.

“I will never be a parent!” Linara snapped at him. His eyes went wide at the response, then his face fell, and he nodded.

“Sorry.”

Letting out a breath, Linara tried to calm herself down. It was an uncharacteristic outburst. Grathen didn’t deserve to suffer for Linara’s regrets. As she looked away from him, she saw Sal, the girl’s face twisted, her gaze on the table before her.

Right.

Standing up, Linara patted her on the back. “Come on, Sal, let’s get to sleep early.”

“What?”

“Lesson…thirteen. Rest when you can, because you never know when the next opportunity will be.”

Looking skeptical, Sal gave a hesitant nod. “Alright.”

Once they were in their shared room, Linara sat down on one of the two beds, looking at Sal. “We need to talk about today, Sal.”

Reaching up, Sal ran her hands through her hair, before sitting down on her own bed. “What about?”

“If you are going to fight, you need to be able to get hit. You will spar with me, and I will hit you. You will fight others, and they will hit you.”

“I’ve been sparring before. I can be hit. Today was different.”

Linara nodded, showing the girl a smile. “Can you tell me what was different?”

For a moment, Sal’s eyes went wide, before she swallowed, setting her shoulders. “I guess…I started thinking about you as, kind of a parent. I wasn’t thinking about it properly. It won’t happen again.”

Standing up, Linara reached out, rubbing Sal’s head, her fingers threading through her black hair. “Remind me how old you are.”

“Eighteen.”

Linara laughed. “I’m not old enough to be your mother.” She whispered. “It’s very, very rare for Hatharen to have siblings, but you can think of me as an older sister, if you want.”

Sal’s eyes went wide again, looking up at Linara, her mouth agape. “R-really? I thought you were, like, seventy. Or more.”

Dramatically gasping, Linara stepped back, bringing her hands to her face. “How could you?” Her overacted reaction got a laugh out of Sal, and Linara smiled down at her again.