Book 6 Chapter 9

Joan had to give it to Zorn. He knew his way through a crowd. Pulling her behind him he managed to navigate the pair of them through the crowd, seemingly finding every nook and cranny to get a few steps closer to the front. They got a few annoyed grunts and glares, but nobody seemed very keen on starting a fight with the pair of them. Before long Zorn managed to pull her to the front and she could see what it was they were all watching so intently.

Performers, of a sort. An elf in long flowing garments was dancing, a ‘blade’ held in his right hand. Except this wasn’t just any blade. It was almost like liquid metal, the blade swirling around him, altering its shape with the beat of the music, flowing around him like water.

“Wow,” Zorn said, his eyes going wide. “A mindblade. I’ve never seen anyone actually use one before.”

“Mmmm hm,” Joan said, cocking an eye and glancing between the dancer and another elf nearby, playing a gentle, rhythmic beat on her drum. “They’re pretty rare.”

“I’ve heard that the blade moves at the whims of its wielder and can cut a dozen times in an instant,” Zorn said.

“Well, that’s half true,” Joan said, though she tried to stop herself from laughing at the mental image of trying to actually use one of those in battle.

“Oh? Which half?” Zorn asked. “You don’t seem very interested.”

“Eh, they’re impressive enough for displays,” Joan said. “But they’re not that hard to use, except in actual combat.”

Zorn gave a soft sigh, though she could see a small flicker of a smirk on his lips. “You’re not very easily impressed then, are you Joan?”

“What?” Joan asked. “Oh, no, it’s impressive. I mean, he’s perfectly fine. Just—” The words locked in her throat when suddenly a blade came flying at her face. She quickly stepped to the right, though the blade stopped inches from her.

“You don’t find my dancing very impressive, dwarf?” the dancer asked.

“Err, not a dwarf,” Joan said. “Just short. Err, young.” She eyed the blade. Well, at least the elf had just been trying to startle her, not actually stab her. But considering how those blades worked, she wasn’t sure she trusted him to not accidentally stab her. Maybe she shouldn’t have been talking so loud.

“Well then, child,” the man said before he pulled the blade back. It swirled around him for a moment before forming into a small metal rod. “I’ve trained under the Sage of Spring himself, a--”

“Oh, the Olive Hermit,” Joan said.

“What?” the man asked.

“Err, because he kind of smells like olives,” Joan said sheepishly.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Joan said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean any disrespect! Really, you’re pretty good, honest!” Behind her she could hear snickering and laughter, though she didn’t know if they were laughing at her or him now. Either way, her platitudes only seemed to be making him angrier judging by the scowl he was giving her.

The drummer had stopped and was now moving towards him. Joan’s focus was primarily on the metal rod, though. It kept twitching and she knew enough about those blades to know how dangerous they could be if the man lost his focus. After a few moments, however, it stopped and the man let out a soft sigh before whispering something to his comrade. Finally, he turned to her and gave a small smile. “Okay then, child. Perhaps you’re correct. Maybe it’s not that impressive. Here, why don’t you try?” He asked before holding it out to her.

“Yeah, sure, why not?” Joan asked before taking a step forward. She’d tried to deescalate the situation, if he was going to push it further and make an idiot of himself, she was more than happy to help him. She took a step forward, but was stopped by a hand on her shoulder.

“Joan?” Zorn asked. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“It’s fine,” Joan said. “It’s not like I’ll be actually fighting with it or anything.”

“But—”

“Relax,” Joan said with a small smile. “I know what I’m doing.” She held out her hand to the man and he dropped the rod into her hand.

She felt a light shock go through her fingers for a moment, but it quickly faded. She then pulled the rod to her chest and held it with both hands. She took slow, deep breaths.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

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“Hero, it’s a weapon unlike any other,” the Sage of Spring said. “It can take decades to master it for even the most skilled of practitioners. But for the Hero? They say you can master it in weeks.”

“Uh huh,” the Hero said, though he couldn’t help but feel annoyed that he was being put through this stupid challenge. He was the Hero. He didn’t have time to waste on this stupid weird liquid blade thing. It wasn’t like it could compare to the Star. “And I need to master this thing why?”

“The Hero must be the master of all things, including himself,” the sage said. “This will teach you control.”

“Control,” the Hero said, unable to keep the distaste out of his tone.

“Indeed. This weapon is incredibly dangerous, both to your enemies, your friends and even yourself if used improperly,” the sage said. “You must have perfect focus in order to control it. A single toe out of line can cause disaster.”

“I think I’m fi--”

“NO!” the sage yelled, making him jump. “You are the Hero, are you not? You must strive for perfection in everything you do. Are you truly so selfish that you dismiss even this? Fine then! If you do not require or desire my aid, then leave.”

“No, wait,” the Hero said, sheepishly. “My apologies, please. I’ll focus.”

“Good,” the Sage of Spring said before getting up once more and patting him on the shoulders. “Focus, now. Train your mind. Your body. Train your whole essence.”

The Hero nodded, though he had to hold his breath. Why did the sage smell so strongly of olives?

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Joan focused and cleared her mind, just as the Hero had so long ago. There was no drum beat for her to listen to, so instead she focused on her breathing. In. Out. In. Out. She did have to give the sage credit, though. While the blade was useless, the methods he had taught her to train had proved useful in future spells she had learned. Her control over magic in this life was likely directly related to what she’d learned there.

It took only a few moments for her to gain control of the blade and then she imagined it moving up.

All of the laughter stopped.

“Joan?” Zorn said.

The rod grew multiple blades out from it, the metal melting into the new forms and then moving out, wrapping slowly around her at her direction. Not touching, but coming close. Joan kept breathing, slow and steady.

“Joan,” Zorn said again. “You can stop.”

Joan ignored him and focused on the blades, making them retract and then swirl around each other, before suddenly striking up and out, like the stinger of a scorpion. There were a few startled shrieks and gasps of awe.

“JOAN!” Zorn yelled.

“Wha—” Joan started, but it was too late. The blades suddenly lanced out at Zorn the moment she thought about him. She only barely managed to stop them in time, pulling them back and then dropping the weapon on the ground. Without her control to give it shape, it quickly collapsed into a metallic puddle. “Zorn, what are you doing? That’s dangerous, don’t distract me like that!”

“We’re going,” Zorn said before grabbing her hand and tugging her away.

“Wait!” the dancer called after her, but Zorn didn’t seem to have any intention of listening. In fact, he all but ran through the crowd, shoving through them with expert precision. Joan didn’t know what had him so freaked out, but she decided to trust his judgment for the moment and move with him. She glanced back once they were out of the crowd, but while they were getting some strange looks, nobody was following them. None the less, he kept tugging her along, before finally glancing back at her.

“Are you okay?” Zorn asked.

“What? Yes? Why?” Joan asked. “Was someone following us? Why were you panicking?”

Zorn stared at her for a moment before sighing. “You don’t really know how to not make a scene, do you?”

Joan stared at him for a few moments before sighing. “What? What’d I do wrong now?”

“Didn’t you see the way everyone was staring? Especially when you started doing that… thing.”

“Of course not. You have any idea how dangerous those things are if you don’t focus?” Joan asked. “They go where you think. That means if you think about someone, then suddenly you’re STABBING that person.”

Zorn stared at her for a few moments, his mouth hanging open. “Wait, what? I thought they--”

“Require special training? They do,” Joan said. “And if you let your mind wander at all you end up killing people. It was just their little dance, though. That was easy enough. Why did you drag me off like that? Who cares if people were staring?”

Zorn stared at her for a moment before glancing away. “I might have over reacted a little bit.”

“Over reacted?” Joan asked.

“Yeah,” Zorn said. “Everyone went quiet and was staring at you. I’ve never really seen those weapons before so I assumed it was kind of a big deal. I thought I was putting you at risk so…”

Joan couldn’t help it. She grinned. “Are you trying to say you’re sorry?”

“A little bit,” Zorn said softly. “I shouldn’t have--”

“I forgive you,” Joan said. “We all make mistakes. Just remember this when I make a mistake or over react, now you owe me.”

Zorn froze, the smile falling from his face. “I’ve made a terrible mistake, haven’t I?”

“Oh, definitely,” Joan said happily. “Come on, let’s go get your magic ring.”