Black Magus

Toril O'Connell.

***

After our hour of solitary training, Lord Amun guided Jaimess, Jonet, and I through the formal wings of the estate to pass through the same set of great blackwood doors that we entered the week before we came here. As I’d noticed and grown extremely uncomfortable with on our way in, the external yards of the Cole Estate held within it, a piercing silence that hung in the air, like the strings of a spider web pulled tautly. Creating a tension in the air that made one feel as if the trees themselves had eyes and were waiting to attack at any moment. The land itself was a frigid ring of abundant snow, rock outcroppings, massive, meters-wide trees, and ice-attributed flora arranged in an almost random fashion for a kilometer past the estate's walls. And I was certain of not a single living animal existing within its borders.

Excepting us, of course.

In silence, we followed Lord Amun through the forest until we came to a stop before the strangest sight. A withered stump and a tree that’d been felled in an odd manner, for there was not a single clean cut on the trunk. Only curved cuts and grooves impossible to make with an axe. Next to those strange things, he turned to face us with his arms proudly spread to his sides. “This will be our training grounds from now on!” He excitedly proclaimed before dropping his arms to his sides to begin pacing. “Now tell me, what weapons have you been trained in?”

I stepped forward at once, bowing at the neck. “I have experience fighting with my hands and have studied combat theory with the sword, My Lord. But have otherwise received no practical weapons training.”

He silently nodded before turning to Jaimess and his meek expression.

“I have not studied or been trained in any weapons, My Lord.” Jaimess bowed somewhat apologetically. “Only in academics.”

“Neither have I, My Lord.” Jonet quickly added. “I only know recovery magic.”

“No matter.” Amun waved their apologetic auras aside. “I’ll have you two train with short blades for now until you decide what you want to use for yourselves. And, Toril.” He turned to me with a stern gaze. “You will no longer be learning to use a sword.”

“B- But why, Your Grace?” I stammered, forcing my shaking head still.

“Swords are more than useless against armored or tough-skinned opponents.” Lord Amun curtly explained. “Which, according to what I’ve read, comprises most of the civilized species' enemies; be them orcs or trolls or demons or dragons. Even other humans are commonly armored. Daggers are at least able to exploit the natural gaps or weaknesses in such armor using finesse; be those gaps natural or otherwise in nature. Swords, not so much.” He meekly shrugged. “So, choose something that has either great piercing power, something that deals blunt damage in addition to cutting damage, or something with more mass like a mace or flail.”

“I- I understand.” I bowed. “Then…” I hesitated as I struggled to think of what best to use. Other than reading about and sometimes carrying swords. The only thing I had any notable experience with was a bit of hand-to-hand fighting and chopping fire- ‘Oh.’

It was so obvious. So much so that I felt a bit of shame as I resolutely met the Lord's gaze. “I shall use an axe, My Lord.”

“Good. As for me.” He nodded, then walked over to a tree whilst conjuring a holed plate of what appeared to be a more sinister concentration of shadow magic.

After conjuring the abyssal disk, it began floating out and upwards towards the crest of a young tree, where it hovered in place for a moment before descending upon the trunk. Me, Jaimess, and even the placid Jonet became visibly horrified at seeing the snow, branches and most of the trunk itself simply disappear from existence. Like snowfall, snow-capped twigs fell helplessly to the ground as the branches they were attached to were consumed by the spell. All that remained was a long staff gaping through the center of the disk; a hole that Lord Amun collapsed once a long and thick stick had been formed. Leaving it to haphazardly fall before him and awaken the forest with the echoes of knocked wood.

He then spent the next few moments carving a blade out of the end piece using a bit of the same magic formed to resemble a long claw before finally finishing the product and holding it overhead. “The spear will be my primary weapon of choice!”

He then turned back to the felled tree that served as a landmark and began the same process three more times. Carving out a pair of daggers for Jaimess and Jonet in addition to a flared one-handed axe for myself. And for the next hour or so, the Lord had us conducting basic drills. Continuously, monotonously, we slashed, stabbed, and swung our weapons at the umbral the clones he summoned from our shadows; our Doppelgangers, only stopping to hear the ghostly wail of our clones criticize and correct our forms every so often.

A strange experience, to say the least.

Everything we did was closely analyzed by the Lord and immediately rectified on the spot through our Doppelgangers. Even I, who’d been trained since I could stand, received many pointers from the Lord that not even His Imperial Highnesses' best instructors failed to notice. Concepts like ‘leverage’ and ‘momentum’ and 'force' and ‘rotation’ and 'mass' and more, how they applied to something as chaotic as fighting. Ideas that even made Jaimess’ little frame gain slightly more power. With the passing of the hour, we cast the weapons aside at Lord Amun’s order and moved on to a short demonstration in unarmed combat. In that, I quickly grew fascinated. Particularly in the art the Lord referred to as ‘grappling.’ Wherein he’d wrestle us to the ground and either choke us out with our collars and his limbs or place tension on our joints with the leverage of his body. A style he highly recommended Jaimess to use along with himself and Jonet, as it favored someone with a smaller, more agile frame and allowed them to easily break someone's joints or limbs in ways that ignored brute strength.

After that brief, but knowledgeable demonstration, we took a short break just after nine in the evening and ventured back into the service wing for a late-night snack. A lapse in training that I was certainly grateful for. As Mr. Flay’s meals were undoubtedly one of the greatest benefits of living in the Cole Estate. Not only did he cook us whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted. But his meals were always just enough to leave me fully satiated, though not so much as to make me sleepy. On the contrary, the meals seemed to significantly boost my energy and made me think of the long days I was now subjected to, as an afterthought.

Under any other circumstances, I’d have been burnt out. Of that, I was certain.

While Lord Amun would be just heading to bed, Jonet, Jaimess, and I would awake at seven in the morning and head to our classes after breakfast. While I was unsure of what the others were up to during that time, I would spend the next five hours studying combat theories, learning the laws of chivalry; or the knight's code of conduct, cleaning equipment, and conducting endurance training before going to lunch just after 1 o’clock. Then, the next four hours would be spent in my formal classes; learning about literature, arithmetic, courtly manners, and musical studies before finishing the day with an hour of chess.

With the passing of dinner and around an hour of downtime, the Lord would emerge from the shadows at around 7 in the evening; just as the sun was setting. In the beginning, that would be when the Lord would slip through dimensions and reappear in the library, wherein he’d then spend the entirety of the night reading and writing. Leaving us to resume our rest period until we retired for the night. After this night, however, those long hours of rest and relaxation would instead be spent conducting additional training until the Lord Amun found himself satisfied.

Whenever that may have been.

Our return to the exterior yards at ten came the moment Jaimess and I were either dreading or looking forward to the most. Elemental Manipulation. Personally, I had been looking forward to seeing His Grace’s prowess ever since His Imperial Highness first mentioned his need for two vassals back at the academy. If His Grace was truly the grandson of the High Necro King, then his potential for magic and manipulation had to be nothing short of legendary.

He sat in his 'lotus position' before the rotted stump and asked us to sit before him. Jaimess must have noticed the sudden class-like atmosphere, as he eagerly lowered himself into the same position and gave Lord Amun his undivided attention. I instead, sat on my legs with my knees out in front of me; as sitting that way caused too much pain to my hips. Though I began to reconsider my actions once Jonet sat in much the same position.

“I need you all to learn my theories on elemental manipulation.” Lord Amun began. “Now, it's agreed that humans use mana to bend or manipulate the elements at will. And that is what we call Elemental Manipulation. Correct?”

“That is correct, Lord Amun.” Jaimess quickly nodded.

“My theory is that such avenues of thinking are wrong.” He countered with a curious grin worn on his face, unsurprisingly causing Jaimess to recoil in surprise. “Instead of using mana like a glove or a second hand that takes hold of the elements.” Lord Amun went on to say. “We’re instead supposed to use mana to create an environment that will allow the element in question to behave as it would in nature.”

“I… don’t understand, My Lord.” I shook my head in confusion.

“Fire a gust of air at that tree.” He ordered, pointing to one of the massive trees to my left.

Without a word, I rose to my feet and turned my attention to the designated target. With only a bit of focus, I pulled a constant stream of mana over my hand, dragging the air along with it at a faster and faster rate before extending my hand outward. As my arm fully extended, a small vortex of air billowed over my hand and smacked into the tree with a dull thud and small plops of loosed snow. In turn, causing a frigid gust to wash over my body.

“Nice.” Lord Amun nodded after I turned back to face him and bowed. Then, he stood and took up my earlier position before the tree.

If he focused then, I failed to notice. I only felt a surge of mana cascading toward his hand before he outstretched his palm in much the same manner as I had. Instead of a billowing vortex, however, a near-visible pillar of air burst forth from his hand, impacting the tree with such force that the bark splintered and a raging tempest uplifted the snow around the trunk.

“W- what.” I gasped lungfuls of the fine white dust uncaringly, for my eyes were in disbelief at the shredded bark that came from a mere gust of wind. “What… what was that?” I turned to Lord Amun, mouth agape.

“Compressed air.” He casually explained as he held out his hand once again. Just as before; albeit far slower, a field of mana surged from beyond the treetops towards the center of his palm, concentrating the air itself into the center of his hand. Where he held it and said. “Imagine that everything; air, water, and even the ground itself; are all made of tiny particles far too small for us to see by normal means. Just like the energy in our mana wells.” He gestured to his chest with his free hand. “The amount of particles in any given area is what’s called, density. By increasing the density of air, pressure is simultaneously increased. And pressure is the key to manipulating air.”

He charmingly grinned at us before extending his palm towards the tree once again. Focusing this time, I saw the sphere of mana he created to condense the air change shape into that of a pipe that of a short pipe, crimped at the middle to allow only a bit of air to pass through. Though I still had yet to see how that resulted in such a scene of destruction unfolding before our awed eyes.

“Pressure.” He repeated as he turned to face us once more. “That is the secret behind air manipulation.”

After a few moments of silent contemplation, Jaimess looked up to the Lord with practically glistening eyes “Incredible.” He nearly cried. “And what of fire, My Lord?”

“Fire is different.” He quickly explained with a dismissive wave. “You can think of it as something that requires a specific formula to create: air, fuel, and heat.” Demonstrating, the Lord held out his hand and began concentrating a significant amount of mana in a coin-sized region of his palm. “The fuel, in this case, is provided by mana. As is the initial heat source.” With that said, he flicked his thumb casually, yet I sensed the mana around that 'coin' sort of grind against itself to generate something not quite like a spark. Yet it ignited the concentrated energy into a fist-sized bonfire all the same.

While small, its heat licked at our exposed skin as we watched in amazement from over a meter away.

“Once it’s ignited,” Lord Amun said. “The surrounding air will keep the flame lit, so long as there’s a fuel source; or a stream of mana keeping it alive. Earth and water, however, are both as straightforward as they were before. For now at least.” The Lord sighed, then swiftly rose his fist as if he were cursing someone; causing the sitting snow next to him to suddenly explode upwards and reveal a small lump of stone.

‘For now, at least.’ I wondered about the meaning of his words before he spread his arms out once again, halting my thoughts almost immediately.

“This is the standard for all who follow me.” He coldly declared over the small flame still cackling away in his hand. “We’ll practice this for two hours before retiring for the night. And this schedule will continue until you master my manipulation theories.

“After that.” He wickedly grinned. “We’ll move on to the next stage.”

‘The next stage.’ I despairingly chuckled to myself while nodding my affirmations. ‘This stage is already unreal.’