“That was Envy?” My father remarked, shaking away the heavy emotions that clouded his mind, “I expected him to be more… well… more.”
I stifled a laugh as I patted my dad’s back. “I wish you had said that when he was here. It would have sent him in a frenzy.”
“Your father is right. If not for his red eyes, I would have thought he was human,” my mother said, still looking at where the rift once stood.
“The stronger a demon becomes, the more human they appear,” I replied. “Even the red eyes can be hidden if they want. More than a few realms have fallen from a demon disguising themselves as a human before slaughtering everyone.”
I could see my mother shiver in the moonlight. “Tell me truthfully. What are our chances of winning?”
I lowered my gaze, unable to look at her directly. “Not great. even at my full power, when I ruled the continent and had massive armies at my command, I would have still had to ask for reinforcements to take on an invasion like this. That is why I closed all the doors to our realm last time he tried. I did not think I could win a direct confrontation by myself so I did what I had to.”
“Are reinforcements really impossible? Are you not an important member of the Thirteen Divisions? How can they abandon you like this?” Charly exclaimed, raising his voice.
“And how do you expect them to get here?” I replied with a shrug. “Opening a doorway capable of sending reinforcements is an extremely expensive and time-consuming affair. It takes years, sometimes decades, and doing so would only speed up the creation of Envy’s doorway. By the time they got here, everything would already be over.”
“Is there really nothing they can do?” Charly mumbled.
“I never said they are doing nothing. Do you really think a realm I ruled for nearly four hundred years is completely defenseless? That I allowed the Church of the Myriad Realms to collect resources for the Fourth Division for centuries without expecting anything in return?
“What do you mean? Do you have a secret army somewhere or something?” My father asked.
I shook my head. “No armies, but plenty of ways to fight back. Enough that the army of Demonkin is not the threat I am worried about. Numbers are pointless. The true threat is Envy himself. I still have not figured out a way to defeat him in a direct confrontation. So long as he survives, we will not win.”
“A being that copies the skills and abilities of those he sees. I have been thinking about this for a while, but I have not been able to think of a guaranteed solution either. Not if he is as powerful as you say,” My father said, shaking his head.
The sun rose with the sounds of clashing wood. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I watched Donte and my father spar. High-speed clashes of wooden swords, as they stuck at one another with all their might.
The match ended when Donte lost his footing on loose gravel. My father took advantage of his momentary lack of balance to strike him once in the arm, disarming his sword, then again in the chest. Donte collapsed to the ground panting heavily.
“You are getting better,” my father said, offering Donte a hand, “Just remember to watch your footing. You will not always be fighting in ideal places like the yard back in Aktaio. You have to adjust and use your surroundings to your advantage.”
Donte nodded, picking up the wooden blade. “Again!”
As the two resumed their sparring, my mother handed me a cup of tea, still hot off the little stove. I thanked her and sat on a nearby rock to continue watching the sparring. Watching Donte get beat up over and over again was the closest thing to entertainment we had on this trip and I had no intention of missing it.
While I watched another round of Donte getting knocked to the ground, Charly Stumbled out of the wagon. Dark bags under his eyes, as he grumbled sleepily.
“How can you be that energetic this early in the morning?”
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“How can you not?” Donte replied, picking himself up, “After everything Wren has told us, and even seeing the great demon Envy, doesn’t it make your blood boil? They are legends straight out of our bedtime stories, and they are all real!”
“And all coming to kill us,” Charly mumbled.
“That is why we have to get stronger. Just like the heroes of the Thirteen Divisions, we will stand up and face the demons head-on. We will force them back through the hole they crawled out of and make sure they never return.”
“I have a feeling you will be the first one they kill,” Charly replied.
“None of us are going to die,” my mother said sternly, handing Charly a cup of tea.
“You don’t know that,” Charly said, “You saw that army. We struggled taking down a single Demonkin the other day. How are we supposed to fight that?”
My dad placed a hand on Charly’s shoulder, forcing him to sit down on a nearby boulder. “By only taking fights that are in our favor. That is the nature of war. We use tactics and guile to force the enemy into a disadvantage before the battle even begins while the enemy attempts to do the same to us. We have more of an advantage than you might think. We know our enemy, but he does not know us. He thinks the only threat is Aurielle, but that is not true. The empires and kingdoms of this world will rise up against him. The great heroes like King Sebastion, Chancellor Otto, and even Svend the Bear will all band together, creating a force unlike anything this land has ever seen.”
I nodded. “King Sebastien especially should not be underestimated. Do not forget, he was able to kill me fifty years ago. While it is true, I did not have my army with me at the time, my death was no fluke or stroke of luck. I fought him with everything I had, and I have no doubt that after all these years he has only grown stronger. So long as he does not kill me on sight, he will be our greatest ally in the war to come.”
“If you despair before the battle even begins, then you have already lost,” my father continued, “Now, come train with us. We need to make sure next time you shoot at a Demonkin; you do not miss and catch everything on fire.”
“That was one time!” Charly protested, “And I was the one that killed it in the end.”
“Your second shot was good, but we need to make every shot good,” My father replied, handing Charly his crossbow, “We are adding daily target practice to our morning training.”
Charly grimaced, but knowing better than to argue, he took the crossbow.
“Wren, take over for me with Donte’s training,” My father commanded.
“Me?” I asked, looking at Donte.
“Yes, you. He needs to learn how to incorporate his innate talent into his fighting style, and no one here knows more about innate talents than you.”
I grimaced, knowing my morning entertainment just transformed into work. I may have seen many innate talents over the years, but I had very little experience training others. My own teacher’s idea of training had been dropping me in a ravine full of enemies and seeing if I survived. That method was useless here. I had only ever tried training someone once, and it did not end well for me or them.
Donte looked at me, practically bouncing in excitement. Even my mother was nearby, watching intently and hoping to pick something up that might be useful.
“I guess the first thing we need to work on is timing your attacks,” I said hesitantly, “Every time you use your innate talent it uses energy that takes time to recover. As such, you should only use your talent when it brings you an advantage. Do not just fire off blasts of wind randomly. My dad has been teaching you the importance of keeping your balance, and how stable footing can make the difference in a fight so let us start there. Every time an enemy moves to attack or defend, they will take a step or shuffle to adjust their distance. What I want you to do is time your ability to match those steps. Use a small burst when one foot leaves the ground. That is when their balance is the worst.”
I made a few exaggerated motions while swinging the wooden sword to show him the moments he should look for.
“Now, I am going to attack you three times. On the third strike use your talent then counterattack. Make sure you use the absolute minimum amount of power when you use your innate talent. I do not want to be covered in cuts just because you did not hold back.”
Donte nodded, and I moved to attack. On the third strike, a gust of wind rushed out of Donte, forcing me to take a step back.
“Good,” I said with a smile, “But a little early. Keep trying. We will repeat this exercise for the rest of the morning until it is ingrained in your movements.”
Donte and I continued the exercise late into the morning when my dad decided it was time to get moving. We loaded up the wagon and continued our trek north one creaky wheel at a time.