Origin (Land of the Elementals Book 3), page 10
Prudence waited until the last second, then neatly stepped forward. Her knee flexed outward, and Arbor’s staff cracked into her leg at full force. However, her movement had shifted his aim. Now, he’d hit the mass of bunched muscle above her knee, and her forward movement had assured that the ‘blade,’ marked by a red line on the staff, sailed neatly past her.
Before Arbor could do anything, Prudence’s staff slammed into his ribs, right over his heart, and sent him staggering back. Arbor winced, clutching at the area. He knew that if that had been a real fight, he’d be dead right now. His pride smarted at being bested so easily, but he knew that when it came to technical skill, he was very lacking. Instead of following up, Prudence grounded her staff and began to explain.
“Your opening move, while bold, leaves you too open to a counterattack from a more experienced opponent. Your aim was also a bit off,” she continued, demonstrating the swing he’d just taken in slow motion. “When using a sweeping attack with a long-shafted weapon, it is also always better to have your lead hand closer to the blade for guidance, while having your hips and other hand behind the strength.”
She demonstrated the same attack, only this time, she put the emphasis on the movement of her arms and hips.
“The idea of swinging for my knees was a smart one, as I am taller and it would have required a longer reach to go for my neck or another vulnerable area. But, when using something like a glaive, you’ll want your opening attack to be swift and unexpected.”
Her hand moved to one end of her staff, and she pivoted forward. Arbor watched in fascination as the staff flickered forward and back in an instant, appearing to blur in the air as it moved.
“Was that the counter you used on me?” he asked, still rubbing at the sore spot on his chest.
“Yes, it was. While most glaive users tend to treat it as a sword on a stick, you should really be treating it as the weapon it is.”
“Like a spear?” Arbor asked, wondering if he’d have to re-learn everything from the beginning.
“No, not like a spear either,” Prudence replied. “A glaive is a combination of three weapons. It’s a sword, a spear, and a staff. If you are not using all parts of the weapon, then you are doing it a disservice.”
Arbor nodded, finally understanding what she was getting at.
“Good. Now, I want you to come at me again with the same opening attack, and this time, try and predict the counter.”
Arbor nodded, then took the staff up once again. The area where he’d been struck throbbed, reminding him to be just a bit more cautious in his next charge. Still, old habits were hard to break, and Arbor charged in once again just a couple of seconds later, swinging for her knee.
He was prepared for her to step in and take the blow, and was already formulating a counter when he struck. That was why, when she did something else, he was taken completely off-guard.
Prudence stepped to the side, leaned back, and then pivoted neatly around the staff, avoiding being hit by a matter of a few hairs. Then, her own staff blurred out, her grip sliding all the way to the other end and smacking lightly into the side of Arbor’s neck. It didn’t hurt, not like the strike to his ribs. This hurt his pride, more than anything.
“Never assume someone is going to take the same stance as they did before, even in training,” Prudence said. “Your strike was on target, but you anticipated the same block and strike, instead of leaving yourself open to the possibility of a different counter.”
As much as Arbor hated to admit it, Prudence was right. While she had told him to attack her using the same strike, she’d never said that she’d be using the same block.
“Let’s try that again, shall we?”
An hour later, and Arbor was sporting several painful welts along his ribs and stomach. Each and every blow had been lethal, without fail. Prudence was very much unlike Silver in that way. The odd hermit had battered and bruised every part of his body until he was black and blue. Prudence, on the other hand, simply struck where she found an opening that would end the fight in a single attack.
Not so much as a scratch marred his arms, legs, or face, though the area between his neck and shoulder stung from a particularly hard blow he’d received when he’d missed his mark.
“Precision is key in any fighting style,” she said, taking the staff from him and going to lay it down on the ground. “If you can always make your strikes land where you want them to, you can end a fight in an instant.”
Arbor nodded, fighting down his frustration and anger. He knew that she was only training him, but it was hard to accept defeat and learn from that experience when he was so used to winning all the time.
“How will precision help me?” Arbor asked, crossing his arms. “My style involves large-scale destruction.”
“Which is all well and good in an extended battle with multiple opponents,” Prudence said. “But if you were fighting a single opponent in the confines of a closed corridor, precision will help you prevent bringing the building down on yourself.”
Arbor wanted to argue back, but he knew there was little point. He just nodded and accepted the lesson for what it was.
“Would you like to break now for lunch, my lord, or would you like to continue?”
Arbor looked up at the sun, noting that it was already around noon. Though he was tempted to tell her that he was done for the day, he fought down against his own wounded pride and shook his head.
“We can keep going. I’m fine.”
“Very well, my lord. For this portion of your training, I would like to focus on hand to hand combat, the area in which you seem to be lacking the most.”
Arbor nodded, accepting the fact for what it was. He knew next to nothing about fighting bare-handed, yet had ended up in more than a few fights where he’d had no weapon.
“Sparring will have to wait until you’re a bit more advanced, as you will not learn anything from me repeatedly hitting you. Instead, we will focus on instruction and technique.”
Arbor nodded once again, not trusting himself to say anything. While he rationally knew that without his magic, and perhaps even with, Prudence could pound him into the ground, his wounded pride continued to stand out at the forefront of his mind.
“The fighting style which I believe will suit you best is called ‘Gaile Verde,’ which in old elven, roughly translates to ‘Flowing Force Fist.’”
“Wait, this is an elven fighting style?” Arbor asked, immediately on guard.
He had a serious dislike for elves as a whole, due to all the times he’d been attacked by them.
“Yes, though it has long since been adapted by humans for use in combat,” Prudence said, missing his momentary flash of anger.
“Is there no other style more suited to how I fight?” Arbor asked.
“This is the best,” Prudence said. “We can try something else, but the results will not be the same, and might interfere with the way you move while fighting with the glaive.”
Despite wanting to ask about a different fighting style, Arbor once again forced down his instincts and nodded.
“Very well, I will do it your way.”
Prudence nodded, then fell into a stance. Her legs were spread wide, with her right placed slightly back. However, most of her weight was sitting on her front leg. Both hands came up, the back one clenched into a tight fist and covering the side of her face, and the other, like the left leg, leading forward, with the wrist curled forward and fingers extended.
“The Gaile Verde focuses on hard swift strikes to vulnerable areas,” Prudence began, moving slowly as she spoke. “In my mind, this will work perfectly in conjunction with your Origin magic, as you can eject precise blasts upon striking.”
Her leading hand flashed forward in the likeness to a striking snake, before snapping back to the guard position. The entire way she was moving, in fact, seemed very serpentine. Her legs slid from side to side as she advanced, always keeping her balance perfect and her weight forward-leaning.
“This stance, while seemingly unbalanced to most, is what favors this style of fighting best. The Gaile Verde doesn’t really have any blocks, so speed, flexibility and durability will be your allies. From what I’ve seen, your pain tolerance is quite high, and your speed is remarkable, but you lack flexibility. This results in linear and easy-to-predict attacks, which, in turn, can lead to your downfall.”
Prudence straightened then and turned to him.
“I would rather you not ask any questions now, my lord, although I’m sure you have many. Most will be answered as we train. For now, I will ask that you trust my judgment and simply follow my instructions.”
“You’re the expert. Just show me what to do, and I’ll follow.”
Prudence flashed him a quick grin, revealing her over-enlarged canines in the process.
“Thank you for your trust, my lord. I will not let you down. Now, assume the fighting stance I demonstrated.”
Arbor did as she said, sliding his legs apart and leaning forward. Prudence walked up next to him as he did and adjusted his stance, by pushing his arm down, up, straightening his back, and finally by pushing him forward.
“I feel extremely off-balance,” Arbor said when she stepped back.
Almost all of his weight was concentrated on his front leg, and even standing still, he felt as though he could topple over at any minute.
“The stance is not very well balanced, but I assure you, you will grow used to it in time. This is why the first exercise will be to move around the perimeter of the training grounds. I will follow alongside and keep pace, should you have trouble.”
Arbor nodded and watched her demonstrate the walk. It was the same shuffling steps she’d used before, though she made the movement look smooth and seamless. When Arbor tried it, he felt more like a chicken than a snake, moving along jerkily and nearly tripping with each step. Prudence walked beside him, just as she’d said, offering a steadying hand whenever he stumbled and correcting his stance each time he fell out of it.
It was only when Grak came jogging over some two hours later that he finally stopped to take a break.
“Arbor, you have to…Wow, you have an amazing body! How can I look like that?!”
The question that had been directed at Arbor changed mid-sentence when Grak got a good look at Prudence without her butler uniform.
“A lot of exercise, the right type of magic, and a steady diet of lean meat and vegetables,” Prudence replied.
“You’re definitely going to have to tell me more about that,” Grak said, eyeing the woman’s defined musculature with something approaching worship. “But for now, we need you, Arbor.”
“What’s the problem?” he asked, expecting to have to deal with some annoying ‘noble’ task.
“It’s about the furthest village from here, Nibia. Apparently, some sort of creature has taken up residence inside the inactive volcano and has started to stir things up in there. The village leader, Maki, is still here and wants to ask for your help in stopping it before the creature triggers an eruption.”
Arbor was overjoyed to the point of almost wanting to kiss her. He didn’t, even though he could have. This particular piece of information made him so happy because he’d been feeling as though he was just wasting time since the competition ended. He’d been only doing boring, menial tasks, as there was not much to do.
“I will fetch you a proper outfit and meet you by the veranda near the front entrance,” Prudence said.
She then gave him a polite bow before jogging off toward the manor.
“Great! I guess we’re heading around the front, then,” Arbor said.
“Aren’t you going to at least put on a shirt?” Grak asked as he started walking.
“No point,” he called back with a barely suppressed grin. “Prudence is bringing me a new one.”
Grak shrugged, then jogged up to walk beside him.
“Won’t hear me complaining. It gives me a chance to look at all those muscles.”
Arbor wondered about that comment, but only for a moment. It was quickly driven from his mind by the exciting thought of fighting some unknown creature, and wondering what it might be.
12
Prudence met them by the small covered veranda just to the side of the front entrance. She was once again dressed in her butler’s uniform and looked pristine as always. A bundle of clothes was neatly folded over one arm, while in the other, she carried two towels – one wet and one dry – as well as a tray containing a glass of water and a small loaf of bread.
“Would you like me to wipe you down, my lord?” she asked as he stepped into the veranda.
“If you wouldn’t mind getting my back, I would appreciate it,” Arbor said, looking at Grak out of the corner of his eye to see if she’d say anything.
There wasn’t really much he could do about the coating of sand and grit, and he didn’t want to accidentally miss anything and end up with an uncomfortable rash.
“Of course, my lord. I will be happy to help.”
Grak didn’t say anything as Prudence followed him into the closed-off area, but judging by the look she was giving him, it was clear that he’d be hearing about it later. Not that he was really sure why that would even matter to her, or to anyone for that matter. The door closed as Prudence entered, and Arbor looked around the small area curiously.
A few wicker chairs stood against one wall, and a screen ran across the length of the room. It was clearly placed there for changing.
Prudence hung the underclothes, shirt, and pants separately, making sure to get Arbor’s approving nod at their simplistic design. They still looked pretty over-the-top for his tastes, but he guessed that this was the best he could expect when out of his armor. Seeing as it was only a single layer and not the choking monstrosity, he’d had to wear this morning, Arbor was more than happy with it.
“Turn around please,” Prudence said, unrolling the damp towel.
Dealing with her felt a bit strange to Arbor. She was his servant, but also his trainer now. He wasn’t really sure what to make of Prudence just yet, but from what he’d seen so far, she was meticulous, polite, and, most of all, dedicated to her job.
“If you don’t mind my asking, Lord,” Prudence said as she began running the damp towel down his back in gentle strokes. “Is there anything going on between you and the gremlin woman, Grak?”
Arbor was slightly taken aback by this question, though if he were to look at it from Prudence’s perspective, he could understand the curiosity. She had only been with him about half a day, so she hadn’t yet become accustomed to their group.
“There might have been, once,” Arbor admitted. “But as I explained to you earlier, I just don’t feel ready to have another relationship. Besides, Grak is a good friend now, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin that, least of all with a relationship that’s doomed to fail.”
“That is very wise of you, my lord,” Prudence said as she finished wiping down his back.
“You agree with my decision?” Arbor asked, turning to face her.
“Of course,” she said, starting to wipe down his chest without being asked.
Arbor had been planning on doing that bit himself. He wasn’t a child, after all, but for some reason, Prudence saw the need to.
“Would you care to elaborate as to why?”
“Because you are a noble,” Prudence said simply. “And only a noble may marry another noble.”
Arbor suppressed the urge to sigh, if only barely. He’d been hoping to hear some profound bit of wisdom. Perhaps a bit of sense or assurance that it had been the right thing to do. He shouldn’t have expected differently from someone who’d been trained to think of nobility a certain way.
“Would you sit so that I might clean your feet as well?” Prudence asked, gesturing to one of the chairs.
“I think I can do my feet on my own,” Arbor said, holding his hand out for the towel. “But thank you for the offer,” he added quickly as she did as she was asked.
“I live to serve,” she said. “Do you require assistance dressing?”
“I think I can manage this time,” Arbor said, giving her a wry smile.
“Very well, then I shall await your presence outside. Please do try and take a drink before you leave. You have been training for over four hours, and have not hydrated at all. I realize I should have come prepared, but I made a mistake and forgot to bring a pitcher along with me in my haste to be on time.”
It was only once she mentioned it that Arbor realized how thirsty he really was. He hadn’t had a drink since this morning, and with all that exercise, he was pretty parched.
“Thank you for bringing water now, and reminding me to drink,” Arbor said as she bowed her way out.
He let out a long breath, then went to sit and clean his feet, slowly sipping from the glass she’d set down as he did. He was starting to get sick and tired of people calling him a ‘Lord’ all the time. He wasn’t a lord, just a carpenter’s son from Woods’ Clearing who’d just happened to stumble into a whole bunch of unlikely situations and had somehow ended up here.
In that moment, when Arbor was changing alone in the small but lavishly decorated outside room, he missed his sister dearly. Karria always knew how to cheer him up, even if she didn’t know it. She was the only family he had left, and he hadn’t seen her in over a year, not since the horrible incident in which the entire population of Woods’ Clearing had been killed. All he wanted was to be able to see her again. He yearned to hug his little sister and talk to her.
Though Grak and Hord were great friends, they didn’t really know what his life had been like before they’d met, before he’d had magic or even known how to fight. Back then, his biggest aspirations were to get married and provide a stable and happy home for his family. Now he was somehow responsible for tens of thousands of people, all of whom would be looking to him for guidance.
His mood now tempered, Arbor quickly pulled on the clothes, making sure they were smoothed before he left, just in case Prudence saw the need to do so herself. Both Grak and Prudence were waiting for him, the former impatiently tapping her foot, and the latter standing with hands folded and a calm demeanor.
