Arc 8-05 (Alana)
Block. Chop. Thrust.
Alana’s movents were sharp and direct. There was nothing elegant about northern swordsmanship. Their soldiers didn’t train to fight against n. Monsters didn’t care about feints and fancy footwork. They didn’t yield at first blood or understand any rules of engagent. Only one thing could stop titans: strength. One mighty blow that could surpass their prodigious size and magic. That was how the knights of the north were trained, to put everything they had into every blow.
Magic was more flexible, the light affinity more than most. The blistering heat of the sun wasn’t just the natural bane of the creatures that thrived in perpetual winter, it was one of the strongest combat magics known to the kingdom. While its defensive applications were limited, its speed was unrivaled, negating one of magic’s biggest weaknesses, accuracy.
Combat wasn’t static. A caster could decimate a target that was standing still easily but hitting sothing running at speed was a challenge. Most relied on bombardnt, unable to develop the battle sense that would allow them to predict the movents of their opponents.
Light casters didn’t need to do either. The mont they activated a spell, it would shoot forward, reaching its destination quicker than the blink of an eye, searing through anything in its path. After the Great War, dozens of warriors stepped forward to carve a way forward for humanity. There was a reason that the First Saint, the standard used to define heroism, was a light caster. There was nothing quite as awe-inspiring as a mortal star striking down fearso monsters in a single blow.
That was the visage Alana had chased for years, fully believing her claim to Jas’ blood depended on her future as a titan slayer. But her goals were shifting. With the help of her lovers, her clan as the elves preferred, she didn’t lack in power. She wasn’t close to Kierra or Lou, but she was well beyond most warriors. It wouldn’t be long before she surpassed what most human lders were capable of. In a few years, it wasn’t hard to imagine herself wrestling titans. She also preferred personal combat, the feel of her sword cutting down the enemy.
As such, using her magic as a weapon was redundant, simply coating her blade in brilliance a waste of its potential. Her focus shifted to the utility of light magic, supporting her growing martial prowess.
As she thoughtlessly went through the basic drills with her weapon, her mind was focused on manipulating three balls of light that orbited her body on different trajectories. The spell was useless, the lights manifested with only a single unit of mana completely harmless. It was ant to train her control and, more importantly, sothing her teacher called mana sense.
Creating spells was a logical process but using them always required a hint of intuition. The less precise a spell was, the more mana it used and the more the caster had to rely on intuition to utilize it. All her life, she’d been taught that was a bad thing, that every drop of mana was crucial, but, supposedly, there was a benefit to using vague variables.
It trained that intuition, strengthening the connection between a caster and their affinity. That connection could beco so strong that it developed a sixth sense, the caster being able to feel their affinity, both naturally and magically.
At the highest level, a being perfectly bonded with their affinity could manipulate it without a spell, in a limited capacity, while drastically reducing the cost of any spell. Essentially, a lesser pure affinity, accessible to all with enough ti and effort.
Supposedly.
Alana didn’t know if she truly believed the outrageous claim, but one thing was undeniable; Rolly had a mastery of the light affinity that Sir Pullock, a fad titan slayer that had been ant to be her tutor, would weep in envy of if he knew its depths. The elental’s stories sounded too outrageous to be true, but Alana trusted the creature’s skill.
If only the flying nace wasn’t so aggravating.
“—believe it? I an, I understand the appeal of a good pair of wings but to go after a sablefly of all things? Let tell you, the myth that opposites attract is not true most of the ti. We use light to communicate with each other more than anything else and sableflies are all black. Worse, they distort light around them. So, not only is he going to be effectively blind and mute trying to talk to the thing, she’s going to distort anything he’s trying to say. Can you imagine him bringing her to dinner with the family? Everyone’s trying to be polite and say hello, but because of her they’re saying nonsense and cursing each other, haha! Oh, that actually sounds amazing. And number three is drifting.”
It took a few minutes for Alana to parse the words and recognize the instruction. She looked over her shoulder and noticed that the third ball of light, ant to move horizontally behind her back, was dipping and falling. When she noticed her failure, her concentration lapsed further, causing it to move erratically. With a frustrated groan, Alana dismissed the spell, the balls dropping to the ground before disappearing.
“Ah, ah. You’re really bad at this.”
“It would be easier if I didn’t have you chattering at nonstop,” the blond grumbled, taking a seat on the ground.
Rolly popped into sight above her head, zipping around her head like an overly excited fly before settling on her knee. “It’s all a part of the training. How do you expect to use a more complicated spell in the middle of a fight if you can’t focus through a bunch of nothing?”
Alana grunted in response, the best acknowledgent she could manage through her frustration. She had been at the training for days now and didn’t feel like she was making progress. It was a long road until she could use her magic to create complicated illusions that would mask her movents. Even further until her ultimate goal, embodying the concept of light like Sir Pullock, but being able to maintain it for at least several minutes.
“We try sothing else. Work on sothing more fun!”
“Training isn’t supposed to be fun.”
“That ans you’re doing wrong. You’re not going to make it long as an immortal if you don’t learn to take your fun when you can.”
“I’m not an immortal.”
“Yeah, but I bet you don’t stay mortal for long. At the very least, you’ve got a dozen centuries in you. Which ans you need to change the way you asure your goals. So what if it takes you a while? Who cares if it takes ten or twenty or even thirty years before you get it? That’s nothing. You’ve got ti.”
“Problems aren’t going to obediently wait for to finish having fun.”
“What problems? Nothing can touch you.”
Alana snorted. Tragedy and catastrophe had always been a part of her life. Life was about bouncing between problems and hoping you survived. She knew what Rolly ant by her comnt, suggesting that nothing could touch her with her clan around. Lou had certainly increased her chances of survival. Before she ca to the Hall, she always thought she would be lucky to see thirty.
Now, the elental was right that she should plan her goals around several centuries at the least. Sparing so dramatic falling out, Lou wouldn’t let her live any less. Saints, even if they did split up, she could imagine her devoted lover keeping her alive anyway so she could have a chance of working it out.
But Alana wasn’t training because she was worried about her well-being. Lou wasn’t taking what happened to the city well. She tried her best to hide it, but she hadn’t been well since the battle. No, it’d started before then. She hadn’t been well since she learned of her father’s death.
Lou didn’t have the sa familiarity with death as Alana, who’d been attending Last Rites since she was old enough to walk. She didn’t know how to handle the grief and refused to acknowledge it. On top of that, she wasn’t ant to be a fighter. She could wade into battle with a grim heart, but it wore on her, beating her down with every life she took.
It was no wonder she walked around with a lifeless gaze, her body present but her mind far away. Seeing it only stoked Alana’s desire to fulfill her promise; one day, she would be the one to fight Lou’s battles. As Kierra had put it, she ant to make a flower of her. Lou would be happiest with nothing more to do than dote on them and be doted on in turn, while occasionally practicing summoning. By the saints, with all she’d given those around her, she deserved it.
But for it to happen, Alana couldn’t take her ti. The gap between them was as vast as gulf between the ground she sat on and the stars. If she wanted to catch up, and stay ahead, she had to sprint with everything she had, utilizing every second of her generous life expectancy.
“Oh! Here cos the perfect distraction.”
Alana opened one eye to see the subject of her thoughts coming toward her. Lou seed to be in one of her better moods, wearing a small smile as she approached. Alana wondered if it was arrogant to think it was because of her. She decided it was and that she should think so anyway; Lou had a thing for arrogance.
Besides, it was true. To think any less would be an insult to her lover’s devoted affections.
“I’ll leave you two alone~”
Alana fought the urge to roll her eyes, both at the teasing tone and the obvious lie. Rolly never passed up an opportunity for entertainnt and romance was her favorite. Still, Alana had gotten used to having an audience and put the thought out of her mind as she stood, ntally adding another hour to her usual training ti to accommodate the break that was going to last longer than usual.
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