Heir of Dust and Wind

Chapter 11 - Ghost from the Past

Sweat trickled down her brows and stung in her eyes. Everything hurt and she was out of breath. Her mind reeled as she tried to keep her senses sharp and focussed on the practice target. 

Yet, even sweaty, sore, and exhausted, this was still not the worst part of her new daily routine, for nothing could beat the dreadfulness and terror that filled her when she thought of her magic lessons with Alderman Frode himself.

"Pay attention to your stance," Trygve instructed calmly from her right. "If you don't, your opponent will throw you off balance."

Ava corrected the position of her feet as told, thighs screaming in painful protest. She gritted her teeth but kept going, repeating the movements that Trygve had shown her over and over again. She had to get better at fighting, even though she knew from the experience of the last couple of weeks that even wriggling her toes would be painful by the end of the day.

Since she had passed all three of the trials and was therefore not considered a novice anymore, the other sorcerers would be able to challenge her to a duel at the next council meeting, which would be held three months from now.

The challengers could choose one of three weapons: dragons, magic, and swords. This was why Trygve had insisted on their daily training sessions in the afternoon. Although he technically could not order her to do anything, she hadn't felt that she had a choice. Even if she hadn't liked the idea, it certainly made sense. Plus, it seemed stupid to ignore the advice of the one person who seemed to have her back in all of this. After all, Trygve had saved her life before. Ava could only hope he wouldn't stop now.

Most novices received excessive training before they succeeded in all three trials. As the third trial was usually part of a Council meeting, they even had until the following one before they could officially be challenged. Because of her so rapidly and unexpectedly passing all three of them, she now had very little time to prepare.

As if that wasn't bad enough, Ava also still had to complete the High King's Quest. It was a mission given to any novice who had proven worthy in all three trials. Its outcome then determined the rank of a sorcerer. She would have to face both the challenges and the quest at the same meeting.

Trygve was a skilled warrior in both of his forms, so there were no worries if her opponent would choose dragon as his weapon, as she could then do the same. She had seen as much when meeting him in Frode's gym for the first of their sessions. He had already been there, sparring with the only Dracaeni even taller than himself. 

Both her shyness and the awe that she felt when observing their powerful, yet graceful movements had kept her from announcing her presence to them. Despite the fighting being hard work - all the muscles in her body could attest to that - neither of them broke a sweat.

Both men had been shirtless, a rule Frode insisted on. He claimed that only the visibility of muscle movement during fighting practice made sure that all mistakes could be seen and corrected.

On the one hand, he had a point, but on the other hand, his reasoning technically meant that the men couldn't wear pants either. The remark had danced on the tip of her tongue, but a warning glance from Trygve had made her keep the thought to herself. It had once again made her wonder if her thoughts and feelings seemed to travel to him sometimes as his seemed to her.

Ava had stayed in the gym's door, mesmerized by their powerful dance in the practice rink and had continued to watch the muscles below the skin of their arms, chests and stomachs move.

Trygve's opponent had the darkest skin she had ever seen in any human or Dracaeni. It stood in stark contrast to his pale silvery eyes, which shone like sparkling stars in his ruggedly handsome face.