Brian Anderson - The Sword of Truth

Gewey look at Kaylia. His face was stone with concentration. “I can see it now ,” he said. “Why can’t I see it while it’s happening?”

“You will in time,” Kaylia replied, then handed him a flask.

“Drink this.”

“What’s in it?” he asked, eying the flask suspiciously.

“Jawas tea,” she answered.

“Are you crazy?” Gewey asked sharply, handing it back.

Kaylia refused to take it, shaking her head. “Jawas tea has a strong effect on humans, but as you are not exactly human, you should be able to withstand its negative effects. If you can, you will find that it has amazing qualities.”

“But it put me out cold the last time,” Gewey protested.

“And you must prevent that,” she replied. “But this time I want you to feel it inside you and stop it from taking control. You are not to fail, understand?”

“I’ll try,” said Gewey said, warily opening the flask.

“No,” Kaylia said sternly. “I said you are not to fail.”

Gewey nodded and put the flask to his lips, and the cold liquid poured down his throat. He could feel the effects set in immediately, but this time he was ready for it. He fought to keep his eyes open and retain feeling in his limbs, but after a few seconds, he knew it was a losing the battle.

“Don’t think about the way you feel,” whispered Kaylia-or at least, it sounded like a whisper as his head swam. “Think about your body as a whole. Command it. You are in control. You will not allow it to win.”

For a moment, Gewey felt his strength return, but it was short lived. Eventually the jawas tea took over and he lost consciousness. He slumped down in his seat, and Kaylia reached over and slid his body into the corner.

When he woke, it was already dark, and the wagon had stopped. Gewey crawled out and knelt down, groggily. Millet, Kaylia, and Lee were already eating.

“I guess we’ll get a late start,” said Kaylia, setting down her bowl.

She had removed her pilgrim’s robes and donned her shirt and trousers. She pulled out a small knife and threw it with a flick of her wrist. The knife stuck in the ground less than an inch from Gewey’s foot. “You’ll need that,” she said.

Kaylia led Gewey into the forest. The moon was out, providing the only source of light. Gewey’s heartbeat quickened the further they walked. He began to wonder when the training would start, and then suddenly he noticed-he was alone.

“Kaylia,” he called nervously, but there was no answer.

Gewey strained his eyes, hoping to catch sight of some movement or shadow. But the night played tricks. He began to see things in the shadows that weren’t there; shapes he thought might be Kaylia turned out to be nothing more than a bush or a stump.

“The night can be a weapon, young one,” Kaylia’s voice whispered from the darkness, seemingly from everywhere. “It plants fear in the heart of your enemies. It is a cloak and a dagger. It can serve you well until you are ready to strike .”

In the blink of an eye, Kaylia was behind him, her knife at his throat. “You’re dead,” she said, then lowered the knife. “You must learn to see through the curtain of darkness and use your foe’s ignorance against him.”

“I don’t understand,” said Gewey.

“Of course you don’t. We elves spend our lives moving in the shadows. Not even your half-man friend can match me in the dark. An elf can put an arrow through the eye of a buck from two hundred paces in total darkness. Take out your knife. It’s time you learned to defend yourself.”

“I’ve never fought with a knife,” said Gewey.

“I guessed,” Kaylia replied sarcastically. Then, in the blink of an eye she was on him, her blade slashing through the air like lightning.

Gewey felt the cold blade across the back of his hand. He dropped his weapon, clutching his hand and cursing loudly.

“You are uninjured,” Kaylia said. Gewey looked at his hand. There was no blood.

“My blade is dull,” she explained. “For now. Were you an elf, you would not be so fortunate.”

“I don’t want special treatment,” he complained. “I can take it.”

“Just like you were able to take the jawas tea.” she scoffed. “No, I think you need to learn more before your real training begins.”

Gewey sulked as he bent down to pick up his knife, but he didn’t say a word.

For the rest of the lesson, Kaylia instructed Gewey in the basics of knife fighting. Gewey felt it was a bit too basic, but he did as he was told.

“You move like a drunken ox,” she observed when they were finished.

“It’s my first time,” said Gewey. “Besides, all I did was thrust and slash at nothing for close to an hour.”

“And when you do so with purpose, we’ll move on,” she answered.

“I hope you show more enthusiasm when the half-man trains you.” Gewey felt angry and embarrassed.

“Can you find your way back to camp?” asked Kaylia.

“Yes,” Gewey lied.

“Good,” she said, vanishing into the woods.

It took Gewey more than an hour to find his way back to camp.

Lee and Kaylia were talking quietly near the wagon, and Millet was sitting by the fire, poking it with a stick. Gewey walked over and sat across from Millet, his face twisted in anger.

“What’s wrong, young master?” asked Millet. “You look upset.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for this,” said Gewey. “I thought I’d do so much better, but so far, I’ve failed at everything.”

Millet chucked.

“What’s so funny?” barked Gewey.

“Nothing lad,” said Millet. “I just remember Lord Starfinder speaking similar words a long time ago.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” said Gewey. He tossed a twig into the fire.

“I’m doing no such thing. I’m telling you the truth. When Lord Starfinder came home after his first day of training, he was quite literally in tears. In fact, he didn’t go back for a week; I had to convince him.”

The thought of Lee pouting and crying made Gewey smile.

“Don’t take too much pleasure from that,” scolded Millet. “He wasn’t hardened by years of farm work, and he is only half of what you are, if you catch my meaning. Yet look at him now: hard, strong and skilled beyond anything you could imagine.”

Gewey glanced over at Lee and thought about the fight with the bandits. He had never seen anyone move so fast. ‘He must really be holding back with me,’ he thought.

“You’ve been with Lee for a long time, yet I notice you still call him ‘lord”,” Gewey observed.

“Of course I do,” said Millet, surprised. “He is my friend, yes; but he’s also my lord and master. My family has served the house Nal’Thain for generations, and I would not dishonor them by treating the master of the house with over-familiarity. We are friends, and my love for him goes beyond that of servant and lord, but I can never let that distract me from my duty.”

Gewey looked puzzled. “But he’s not really a Nal’Thain. He told me he started as Dauvis Nal’Thain’s servant.”

“He told you correctly,” said Millet. “I remember when he arrived. I was very jealous that he was picked to serve the master of the house and I was not. But after a time we became friends, and when he rose to be the master, I became his personal assistant.”

“What did you call him before he was made a lord?” asked Gewey.

“By his name, of course,” Millet answered. “But enough about that.” Millet got to his feet and went over to his blanket. “You need to eat and rest.”

“Thank you, Millet,” Gewey said gratefully. “Thank you for the talk. I feel better.”

“I’m happy to hear it,” said Millet as he lay down.