Chapter 55: My Second Duel

The sword was too heavy. That had been my first thought as I gathered my gear inside one of the Grovekeepers' sheds. Instead of the wooden ones I had been practicing with, Dad had gotten Jorren and me dulled metal swords, stating, “Grovekeepers don't use sticks! Bahahaha!” I loosened my right hand and tried holding the sword the way Lucarion did. The point immediately dipped, and I caught it with my other hand before anyone could notice.

There wasn't much to the shed, just shelves, hooks, and racks holding spare equipment. While putting on my armor, simple padded armor with long sleeves I could hide Corsie beneath, I noticed a leather harness with lots of straps, perfect for carrying supplies or... knives. Being able to carry the throwing knives Dain had made in the harness would be a lot better than having them in my pants. I had already asked the weird tailor demon to make Lucarion some clothing to carry knives with, but I'd forgotten to ask Mira for the same. This would work, though.

I kept calm as I put on my boots. Jorren was finishing getting ready as well. Dad had accepted my desire to become a Grovekeeper and arranged a duel for me to prove my point. Mom had pointed out that a battle between siblings wouldn't result in much, since neither Olivander nor I would be willing to hurt the other, which I guessed was true.

Ezkyrath had taught me that what you said mattered as much as what you didn't say. That was why, once my boots were on, I got to my feet and let out an exaggerated squeal.

“Eeeeeh!” I jumped up and down in place. “That's so cool!” I ran to the harness and grabbed it in my arms. “This will absolutely complete my look!” I said with a massive smile on my face.

Jorren watched me, sword resting against his shoulder, and one corner of his mouth twitched. I frowned at him until his smile disappeared. Okay, I was probably putting it on a little strong.

“I know just what to adorn this with!” I yelled before running out of the shed. “I'll be right back!”

A little while later, I was standing with Jorren in the middle of the training ground. I started my stretches. It wasn't a good idea to fight while stiff, though it was a little embarrassing since there were far too many people here. This had been a much better idea when it was just going to be me, Jorren, and maybe the other kids. Dad stood near the front with Mom beside him. Several other Grovekeepers had gathered around them, some still carrying whatever they had been doing before someone told them there was going to be a fight. Olivander was with Talla, Reed, Dain, and Mira.

Then there were the knights. Apparently, crown knights had nothing better to do than watch two children hit each other with swords. Princess Lirael had come too, with Sir Loren standing beside her. And Eloise. The pervert. She averted her gaze when I looked at her. I needed Ezkyrath to teach me what shame and other similar faces looked like.

Then I found Emma. She stood beside Mira with her hands clasped in front of her. When our eyes met, she smiled and lifted one hand in a tiny wave. I waved back and nearly lost my balance. Jorren snorted. I pretended not to hear him. Maybe I should stop looking at Emma until after the fight. Probably.

I looked at Dad instead. He had agreed to let me do this. That didn't mean he expected me to win. None of them did. For Dad, this was just a test to see how well I could do. He'd told me to try my hardest. As far as they knew, I had spent the last few days learning how to swing a sword properly.

Which I had.

They just didn't know I had also been fighting Raven. Technically, Lucarion had been fighting Raven, but I remembered every strike, every mistake, every time Raven's sword had hit my shield hard enough to fold Lucarion's arm against his chest. I knew what it felt like to watch someone's shoulders and feet instead of their blade. I knew how quickly a fight changed when someone stopped waiting for you to finish moving.

I decided not to use Focused Thoughts for this and simply had Lucarion practice concentric summoning instead. If I was going to be a Grovekeeper out in the forest, I couldn't rely on being able to fully focus whenever something happened. Of course, that didn't limit me to just my sword.

Dad stepped between us as I adjusted the leather harness over my armor. It wasn't a perfect fit and sat a little loose, so I would need to ask Mira to help me make something more permanent for my clothing. Dain's knives sat in little sheaths along my waist, ribs, and thighs. I even had one tucked into my boot.

“This is a practice spar,” Dad said, looking first at Jorren and then at me. “You stop when I tell you to stop.”

We both nodded. His eyes lingered on the knives, and I tried to look appropriately responsible.

He stepped backward. Jorren lowered his sword, and I raised mine with both hands. For now.

Dad lifted his hand. “Begin.”

Jorren moved fast. Not Raven fast, but without Focused Thoughts he felt faster. Of course, I was still more than capable of taking him on.

That thought lasted until his sword hit mine.

Clang!

My hands jolted, and I stumbled backward. Jorren came with me, his sword pulling away and immediately coming from my left. I saw it. Not the blade. His arms. His shoulders had already turned before the sword changed direction. I stepped back and brought my sword across. Metal slammed against metal, and my wrists hurt. Jorren pushed.

I pushed back.

That was stupid. He was stronger, much stronger. I realized in that quick exchange just how much Raven had been holding back at almost exactly the same time Jorren shoved my sword aside. I stumbled, and his blade came toward my ribs. I twisted away, the tip brushing my armor instead of hitting me properly. Someone behind me made a noise, but I didn't have time to check who. Jorren was already coming again.

I raised my sword. His blade struck near the middle of mine, my elbows bent, and I stepped sideways instead of backward. That surprised him, only for a breath, but it was enough. I swung toward his side. Jorren jerked away, and my sword passed in front of him. Missed, but close.

He attacked again. I watched him. He was swinging wide, with a lot of force. I stepped outside the swing, and the dulled blade cut through empty air beside me.

There.

I switched to one hand and tried to move as Lucarion would. I lost my balance, the sword dragged at my wrist, and the point fell. I grabbed the hilt with both hands to finish the strike.

Too late.

Jorren recovered and knocked my sword aside. I jumped backward. Lucarion's sword wasn't this big, and as much as I felt the shield was uncomfortable, it actually worked to balance the weight of his sword. Either way, every opening Raven had taught me to recognize expected my other arm to be doing the blocking. Now attacks could come from anywhere, and I could only dodge.

Jorren stepped forward. I retreated. He swung, and I blocked. Pain jumped through both hands. A shield would have been really useful. Not even a big one. Just something between me and that stupid sword so I didn't have to catch every hit with mine.

Jorren swung again. I moved instead, the blade missing my shoulder, and cut toward his arm. He pulled away. Another almost-hit. A murmur ran through the crowd. I heard Reed say something, then Olivander answered him. I couldn't make out the words.

Jorren could. His eyes flicked toward them for half a second.

Weakness!

I attacked. He barely caught my sword. The clang echoed across the training ground, and I smiled. Jorren shoved me back, and I landed on my butt.

The knights started laughing as my smile disappeared.

“Loren couldn't beat her?”

I got back to my feet. Jorren came forward, his shoulder turning, and I knew where the strike was going. My body moved too slowly. His sword clipped my upper arm.

“Ow,” I groaned.

“Sorry,” he said, jumping back, but I was already rushing forward before he could stabilize from the jump.

My swings were easily blocked by his sword, and people laughed at my failed attempt. Fighting in front of an audience was different from fighting alone. An empty room didn't mock you.

Jorren circled, and so did I. My arms were already getting tired. The sword had never felt this heavy while I was swinging it at empty air. I flexed my fingers around the grip. I could keep going, but I hadn't come here to find out whether Jorren's arms got tired before mine. I doubted anyone had thought I could last this long. I needed to prove I could compare to him, not beat him, and I thought I'd done that.

Or at least I was certainly done being a punching bag.

I reached for my magic, using my first cast of the day to enhance myself. Warmth spread through my body, rushing down my arms and legs, into my hands, through every muscle that had already started complaining. The sword lightened. Not enough. I wasn't particularly experienced with this spell yet, but it was better. I was sure I could hold the sword with one hand now.

I put myself into the first stance so I could flow through my movements, then showed off my new strength by swinging the sword one-handed. A few voices rose from the crowd. Jorren saw it too. Of course he did. I was being very obvious about my strength increase.

This time I attacked first, rushing forward. Jorren blocked, but the impact didn't drive me backward. I struck again. He caught it, but was forced one step back.

It felt wonderful.

I pressed harder. Jorren's expression changed, and he started looking toward the audience between strikes.

“Girly is putting you on the ropes, boy!” one of the knights mocked.

Good. I needed him to react. I needed him to use his cast.

I swung high. He blocked. I changed direction, and he caught that too, but I made him move. Again and again, I kept up the one-handed stance, my left hand only useful for balance. I needed him to ignore it. To only see my sword.

I stepped toward his left side. Jorren turned with me. I struck, he blocked, and I pushed. He seemed hesitant to use his own cast. He must still think he could win.

I swung my blade in a large sweep, a heavily choreographed power swing. From everything I had seen, Jorren should have easily dodged or blocked it, as he had been doing the entire fight. With my left hand, I tossed a still-sheathed knife at his center.

It hit him directly in the stomach. Jorren gritted his teeth and blocked my swing. To his credit, he rolled backward, stealing the momentum of my attack to get away.

It would have been impressive if my second knife hadn't flown straight through his defenses and hit him squarely in the forehead, knocking him onto his back.

I jumped after him and brought the sword down in the strongest overhead strike I could manage. Jorren caught it from the ground, our dulled blades crashing together hard enough for a chip of metal to break free and slice across his cheek.

Before I could pull back, still flat on his back, he kicked me hard in the stomach.

I flew backward.

Much harder than he should have been able to kick me.

I tucked into the momentum and rolled, copying what he'd just done. By the time I was back on my feet, he was already up and had taken two large steps toward me. Jorren's next strike hit my sword. My arms folded, and the blade slammed toward my chest. I barely twisted it aside before his sword drove mine into me, sending me staggering three steps backward.

The crowd reacted all at once.

I couldn't help smiling.

Jorren frowned. “What?”

I didn't answer. I didn't have much breath left to do so.

He had cast.

That was all I needed. Now he thought we were even. One spell each. Nothing left.

Unfortunately, after that one exchange, it was clear that the gap in strength that existed when we first started was only wider now that we had both enhanced ourselves.

He rushed me. His sword came down, and I blocked. The impact hurt all the way to my shoulders. I moved before he could push, but his next strike came from the side. I saw it. I knew exactly what I should do, how to pivot my feet, where to place my wrist, how much force to apply.

But I had no shield.

I caught his sword with mine instead. I screamed as my wrist burned and stumbled away. He came again, hitting harder. I moved, then blocked again. My fingers were starting to go numb.

This was ridiculous.

With a shield, I could have won. Even without Focused Thoughts, I could tell how sloppy his form was compared to Raven. Compared to Raven, Jorren was nothing. It was so obvious now just how much Raven had held back in our duel.

I thought...

I thought I was strong.

My grip slipped. Jorren's sword struck mine near the end, and the hilt twisted between my palms. For one horrible instant, I had it by two fingers.

Then I didn't.

My sword spun away, struck the dirt, bounced once, and slid to a stop several paces behind Jorren. He looked at the sword, then at me, his own weapon lowering slightly. Around us, people started murmuring. I heard Mira say my name. Dad took half a step forward.

I moved first. Both hands dropped to my belt, and I drew a knife in each hand.

To his credit, Jorren didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, and I moved back as the sword swept toward me. I slipped away, and the blade passed in front of me. Jorren recovered before I could get close. I started toward his side, but he turned, his point following me.

The knives were so light. My arms didn't have to fight them. My wrists didn't sag. I could move one hand without the other. I turned my right wrist, and the knife went exactly where I wanted while my left stayed close to my body. I still couldn't reach him without getting past the sword.

But moving felt... good.

I took a step and changed direction. Jorren adjusted. I changed again, both hands moving separately, one high and one low. His eyes kept jumping between them, probably scared I would throw one. He thrust the sword forward. I twisted aside, and my right-hand knife snapped toward his forearm. He jerked back before I could touch him.

I moved near my sword. I could have picked it up.

I didn't.

Moving without its weight felt... well, it felt really good.

Jorren swung wider this time, keeping me away. I retreated, and he followed. His strength mattered less if I didn't let him hit anything. I wasn't worried about attacking now, simply dodging and occasionally feigning a throw or swing. It felt amazing to just move. My superior footwork, which wasn't saying much, let me run circles around him.

Jorren pressed forward, and I circled away. My breathing was getting harder. The enhancement did not make me tireless, and eventually he was going to corner me or catch me.

It was time to end this.

Corsie shifted around my wrist as I pulled up my sleeve. Jorren lunged. I hopped backward, aiming Corsie at him as its flower bud lifted.

I backed away again, and Jorren came after me. My wrist turned. The folds parted, and little seeds started shooting out. They bounced off his armor. I doubted they would have done much without it either, but that wasn't important.

Seeds were scattering across the ground beneath him.

I flicked my gaze toward his legs and threw another sheathed knife low. Jorren jerked his leg away before he could step toward me.

I extended my hand.

“Growth!”

The earth burst open.

Jorren barely had time to look down as vines erupted around him. He jumped, but couldn't get away as the vines wrapped around him, lifting him a meter off the ground.

“Firm, not tight,” I told Corsie as I walked toward Jorren and, ever so calmly, pressed the knife beneath his jaw.

Jorren stopped.

So did I.

My lungs dragged in air. His did too. The vines continued twisting around him until he could barely move his legs. For several breaths, nobody said anything. Jorren's eyes moved down to the knife, then back to me.

Crack!

Dad gave a single loud clap. “Enough. The winner is Olive.”

I pulled the knife away immediately, and the entire training ground seemed to start breathing again. Everyone talked at once.

“What was that?” Reed exclaimed.

“She cast twice!” Mira cheered.

“Did you see the knives? Those were mine!” Dain said proudly.

“You did excellent!”

That last one sounded like Olivander.

I ignored him. My hands had started shaking. Not badly, but enough that I sheathed the knife before anyone noticed. Corsie loosened around my wrist as I crouched beside Jorren and started pulling the vines away from him.

“Sorry.”

His face was red with anger as he looked away from me. “Good match,” he grumbled.

Once Jorren could stand, I straightened and looked at Dad. He was staring at me. Mom was too. Several of the Grovekeepers were arguing with knights. Dad's eyes went from me to the sword lying in the dirt, then to Jorren, the vines, the Guttervine around my wrist, and finally back to me.

Dad was a large mountain of a man, but in that moment, as I saw the pride in his face, I felt like a giant.

I lifted my chin, adjusted my expression, and shifted my stance, all to give my best pose of Calm Inevitability.

Dad opened his mouth.

Someone slammed into me from the side.

I squeaked.

Emma wrapped both arms around me. “You won!”

Every serious thought disappeared. “I did!”

“That was amazing!” She pulled back enough to look at me, still holding my arms. Her face was bright with excitement. “I know you said Corsie was your secret weapon, but wow!” She pulled me back into a hug, and I almost fell into her as my muscles relaxed. “When you lost your sword, I thought it was over, but you just kept dodging!”

From over her shoulder, I saw Jorren pick up his sword, his eyes dark as they met mine. But I couldn't worry about that now. Emma's cheek was pressed against mine, and heat climbed up my neck.

Emma's eyes dropped to the knives at my belt. “And your knives were so cool!”

My face got hotter. “Really?”

She nodded quickly just as Dain ran over, yelling about how they were his and he had made them. Mira was with him, babbling about the fight, including sound effects. Emma and I finally stopped embracing, and I immediately felt my legs wobble from the effort.

Dad tried to approach again, this time with Mom and Olivander in tow, all three of them beaming. Dad spoke first.

“Our new trainee better not get a big head out of this,” he said proudly.