From the teachings of The Radiant Path, the Book of Hubris, written in the Pure Tongue
Arweniel, sí tanna i mornie, ar sí tanna i maitimo
My maiden, accept the darkness, and accept the forgiveness.
After the incident with the broken spell, Eira was banned from the palace library for a few weeks. The librarian had even made sure to go out of his way to include some choice words about how flammable books were.
As if she didn't already know that.
So, Eira found herself with plenty of free time the next day, which she planned to spend practicing her combat training with Freya and Fëandil after her courtly lessons. Her days began always early in the morning as a lady-in-waiting.
Today she rose before the sun had risen and began to prepare for the day ahead. Her embroidery or lace. She stood in front of her armoire, her eyes scanning through her collection of dresses. Her fingers ran over the different fabrics, considering the feel of each one against her skin. Finally, she settled on a deep red velvet gown with gold embroidery, loving the way the fabric of this particular dress flowed around her as she moved.
Slipping into it, she moved over to her vanity to begin the delicate task of styling her hair. She meticulously arranged the upper half of her white hair into a bun, her fingers deftly weaving the strands into a neat coil. Then she pulled out a few pieces of hair from the lower section and began braiding them.
She studied her reflection in the mirror, taking note of her translucent lashes and the crescent scar that intersected the arch of her pale left eyebrow. She considered her next move. Would a touch of kohl around her eyes be too much?
In the end, she opted for a light touch of blush on her cheeks, bringing a subtle flush to her otherwise pale complexion. Satisfied with her appearance, Eira grabbed her jewelry box and began to select a few delicate pieces to complete her ensemble.
After a final inspection in her full-length mirror, Eira allowed herself a sly smile. She looked stunning, though she supposed she always did. With a flick of her hair and a final adjustment of her jewelry, Eira strode out of her room and into the bustling halls of the palace.
Her dancing lessons were particularly rigorous. She had to master the delicate steps of the courtly dances. Her music lessons were equally demanding, and she had to spend hours practicing the violin, harpsichord, and singing in front of her instructor.
Though grueling, this was easily Eira's favorite part of her courtly responsibilities.
The most challenging part of her routine was the art of conversation. Snark and banter came to her as second nature but were unfortunately frowned upon in court. As a lady in such a powerful court, she was expected to be well-versed in a wide range of topics, from politics and philosophy to art and literature. She had to be able to engage in intrigue and hold her own in any conversation.
During her free time, Eira spent most of her time training with Freya and Fëandil. They focused on combat training, helping her to hone her skills with swords and bows. Eira was grateful for the distraction and the chance to blow off some steam.
She enjoyed the feeling of power and control that came with learning to fight and defend herself. She knew that, as a lady of the court, it was important for her to be able to protect herself and her honor, and she took her training very seriously.
Eira stood in front of Freya, gripping her sword tightly as she focused on her breathing. Freya watched her with a critical eye, scanning her stance and movements for any signs of weakness.
"Blazing hells, you're still not following through on your strikes," Freya cursed. "You need to commit more, Eira. Stop holding back. You're better than this."
Eira sighed with frustration, knowing that Freya was right. She had been holding back, afraid of causing any damage after yesterday.
"I know," Eira replied, lowering her sword and averting her eyes. "I just...I don't want to hurt anyone. Not again, not so soon."
"You will have to learn to control your strength, both as a warrior and a mage," Fëandil chimed in from the sidelines. He stepped forward, motioning for Freya to take a well-deserved break. She moved to take a seat near a training dummy and raised a canteen to her lips.
Fëandil's gaze was understanding when it returned to her. "But you also have to learn when to use it. I know that control has always been difficult for you, as it is for all fire mages. I suppose that is something I can't quite relate to," he finished, sending an icy wind around her as if to explain why.
Eira stood with her sword in hand, savoring the chill that kissed her skin and marked the contrast between the heat of her fire magic and Fëandil's ice magic. Their magics were so different, yet similar. That was the nature of elemental magic. For just as many differences there were similarities, and the weaknesses of one element could inform the strengths of another. As she spent more training her fire against Fëandil's ice, Eira found she had come to appreciate it more and more.
Eira nodded, feeling the weight of their words sink in. She took a deep breath and raised her sword once again in both hands, the blade glinting in the sunlight as she raised it high above her head. A fierce determination flickered in her eyes as she focused on a target ahead of her. With a sharp exhale, she swung the sword in a fluid motion, feeling the weight of it cut through the air. As the sword reached its apex, Eira called forth the flames within her, channeling her magic to ignite the blade in a fiery blaze.
Seeing this, Fëandil rose his own blade in challenge.
So Eira and Fëandil began sparring, swords clashing in the intense heat of the fire. She was not sure how his blade endured the heat of her flames, though she suspected that he was using ice magic to counteract her own. Eira moved with ease, her swordplay graceful and fluid as she focused on controlling the flames thanks to all her training with Freya.
"You become quite skilled in swordplay since we last practiced," Fëandil commented, parrying Eira's attack with a flick of his wrist. "Though I suppose that had been months ago."
"I learn from the best," Eira replied, a hint of a smile on her lips. The flames on her sword danced and crackled, licking the edges of the sword as Eira brought it down towards him once more. The heat was intense, and the air around her shimmered with the intensity of the flames.
Fëandil chuckled, "Ah yes, Freya. Of course, she's practically been training me since birth, though mostly through agitation."
Eira raised an eyebrow and muttered, "It hardly seems fair."
Freya crooned from the sidelines, "Don't forget who taught you how to defend against fire magic, brother."
Fëandil grinned back at her. "Yes, my dear sister. Your battle magic and my ice magic make quite the team, don't they?"
He took a step back and created a shield of ice around himself as Eira sent a blast of fire his way. "But I suppose I can't take all the credit. Eira, you've certainly helped me improve my defense as well."
"I have to say, it's miraculous how you can use ice and yet not have it melt in this heat," Eira said, impressed. Fëandil smiled in response and raised a hand, sending a gust of icy wind whistling through the air, extinguishing the flames on the sword in an instant. Eira looked up at Fëandil, a hint of disappointment in her eyes as she watched her sword go from a fiery blaze to a mere steel blade in a matter of seconds.
"It's all about balance and control," Fëandil replied, "Just like with fire. You have to learn how to harness it, control it, and use it to your advantage. Try and focus on the blue flame."
Eira took a deep breath, focusing on Fëandil's words as she lifted the sword once again. This time, as she swung, she called forth a different kind of flame, a cooler and more controlled blue flame. The sword glowed with a gentle blue light, and the flames flowed around it in a smooth, undulating motion.
She didn't miss the mischievous hint to his smile that stretched his lips. "Let's see what happens when we combine our powers."
With a flick of his wrist, Fëandil summoned a gust of icy wind towards Eira, intending to put her to the test. Thinking quickly, Eira murmured an incantation to intensify the heat of her flame and turned his ice into steam, sending it back towards Fëandil with the momentum of the temperature change.
Their sparring continued, each combatant using their powers to their fullest extent, always learning and always adapting. As the sun began to set and the sky turned a deep orange, they finally called a halt to their training, both feeling exhausted.
***
Hope you enjoyed this update, little mages! The rest of the book is really coming along, and I'm now at 27k words in the master document.
I love worldbuilding and magic systems. I'm trying out some ideas that I've had for a while here! What do you think?
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