Author's Note: Oh dear me, it's been too long since I've updated this. I hope you'll all forgive me, because I know Shynael never will I wish I could do some kind of Christmas-themed chapter or something, but it's not winter in the story, so oh well. It's interesting how differently one can come up with ideas. I had the main gist of this section in mind for a long time, got the idea for the sword reaction about a day before I wrote it, and then got the idea for the sheath out of the blue while I was writing.
When Shynael took off with Shard on his back, Shard noticed a subtle difference in the way the dragon flew. He couldn't quite pinpoint what it was, but he suspected it was because of Vesper's training. He was conscious of the changes in the way he sat as well, and he discovered it was much more comfortable to ride while wearing his new armor. They were following Legacy and Linygae, who soared smoothly away from the thicket that made up the Ambassadors' home. Legacy had been strangely silent about where they were going or what the next part of their training would be, even when Shynael had pressed her for answers. It was almost as though she was afraid they would desert once they found out what they would be asked to do.
That's ridiculous, Shard thought to himself.
We're in this no matter what; she should know that. He rather wished she would ask him not to desert; that way he could promise his loyalty, and he was sure she would look rather pretty with a pleading expression on her face. He grinned to himself, glad that Legacy was too far ahead to see, and that Shynael was facing the other way.
After a few minutes of silent flying, they came upon a tree whose leaves were all a rusty red color. It stood out from the rest of the green canopy, the only tree that looked in danger of losing its leaves. Linygae began to descend through the branches, and Shynael followed, both he and Shard wondering what they would find when they landed.
Shard slid off as soon as Shynael furled his wings, looking about him in amazement. They were in another large bowl only slightly smaller than the one in which the Ambassadors dwelt. The leaves overhead gave the light a slight reddish tint. There were no openings around the sides of the bowl; instead, swords, spears, and all manner of weapons hung in racks and on hooks along the walls. A long table sat out of the way, laden with water, bandages, and various medical supplies. This left a large space clear in the middle where Glaive and his gigantic purple dragon stood, apparently waiting for them.
"Try not to be too hard on them, Glaive," Legacy said, still sitting on Linygae's back. "This
is their first day, you know."
The purple dragon smiled slightly. "Remembering your first battle scars?"
Legacy returned the small smile. "Fondly." Linygae sprang into the air, and with a whoosh of wings they were gone.
Shard and Shynael approached Glaive rather nervously, but he looked more tired than fierce. "So," he rumbled. "We're to teach you combat."
"Wait," Shard interjected. "Why do we need to learn how to fight? Isn't peace our goal?"
Glaive gave him a strange look – almost pitying, Shard thought. "You'll see," he said after a moment.
"Come with me, Shynael," the purple dragon said. "We need to find an open space; this is too small for me to move freely."
Shynael hesitated, looking at Shard and obviously thinking of Legacy's parting words. Shard gave him a slight smile to reassure him, and Shynael reluctantly followed the ponderous dragon away.
"Now that Gyvael's gone to train her new student," Glaive said, leading Shard over to the wall, "we can get down to business." He cast his gaze over the long row of swords. They hung in order of their length, from hardly longer than a dagger to the height of a grown man. On every hilt was a miniature dragon, tail wrapped all the way to the pommel, wings outstretched to create the crossbar. The head of the dragon lay flat on the blade, its empty eye sockets seeming to follow Shard's every move.
Glaive reached out, his hand hovering above the hilts, examining the swords with an expert eye, till he finally seemed to decide on one. "Take that one," he grunted, pointing at it.
Shard reached for it, but as soon as his hand closed around the hilt, he saw dead bodies surrounding him. Dead knights, their thick armor rent like paper. Dead men, torn and bloody. Blood dripped down his blade, and when he looked at the palm of his left hand, it was covered in warm, sticky, red liquid. Blood seeped through the fingers that clutched the hilt of his sword. The stench of death was thick in his nostrils, making the air so heavy his lungs seemed to stick together. Death and blood surrounded him, neverending, threatening to blot out the sun itself....
Shard dropped the sword and backed away, staring at it in horror. The bodies were gone now, the stone floor of the bowl empty. The blade was clean again, but his hands...his hands were filthy.
"What is it?" Glaive asked in genuine concern.
Shard wrenched his eyes away from the innocent blade at his feet, looking up into the older man's weathered face. "I...I can't," he whispered.
"Can't what?"
"The sword...." A lump grew in Shard's throat, rendering him speechless, so he could only shake his head mutely.
Glaive looked at him shrewdly, then asked, "Have you ever killed before, boy?"
Shard drew back as though struck, seeing again those five knights he had killed. Tears rose in his eyes to blot them out as he murmured, "Yes. I have."
Glaive stood looking at Shard with an unreadable expression for a few moments, then he bent down and picked up the sword where it had fallen. "Do you know how I got this?" he asked, jabbing a finger at the scar that ran right next to his eye. "It was my first battle outside these walls. I wasn't much older than you at the time. The man I fought nearly killed me, but as you can see I was the victor. Sometimes killing is necessary to stay alive, Shard." He held the sword out to the boy.
Reluctantly, Shard grasped the hilt again. He gritted his teeth, but the bodies did not return this time. When Glaive let go, Shard's arm swung down; the sword was much heavier than he had thought at first. He could almost imagine that the deaths he had caused were weighing it down.
Glaive corrected his grip and went on to show Shard the basic sword movements, then had Shard repeat them over and over again. Shard concentrated on the blade in his hand, clumsily guiding his sword through the motions, trying not to dwell on how strange this was or wonder what Father Mark would say. So focused was he on his own sword that he almost didn't catch the sudden movement in the corner of his eye. Shard turned his head just in time to see Glaive's sword whistling through the air towards him. Letting out a yell of surprise, he spun on the spot, his sword darting to meet it. The two blades connected with a loud clash, and Shard's sword twisted out of his grip, skittering away on the ground. The next moment, Shard froze with the tip of Glaive's sword at his neck.
Glaive grinned wolfishly. "Lesson number one: When my sword is drawn, I am your enemy." He flipped Shard's sword into his hand with the tip of his sword, then handed it back, commenting, "You did better than most for your first day; usually they're so stunned I can knock the sword out of their hands with no resistance."
Shard accepted the sword in bewilderment, but Glaive gave him little time to dwell on his strange teaching techniques, for suddenly he attacked again. Shard swung wildly in his surprise, missing Glaive altogether. Glaive's sword knocked Shard's sword away easily, then pressed gently against his neck. This cycle repeated itself over and over, frustrating Shard more and more each time his sword flew from his hand.
This isn't teaching! he thought.
He's just toying with me. In his anger, he ignored Glaive's sword angling towards him, and jabbed at Glaive's chest instead.
Somehow, Glaive caught him in time, knocking Shard's sword away. When he had Shard at his mercy yet again, he said mildly, "You're getting angry. Anger can provide you with strength, but it prevents you from thinking clearly. Be careful around your own anger, Shard."