For three days, Kelton stayed in the cave absorbing the new that lay around. It was apparent that lands outside of Aragonia knew metal working well and art thrived. Kelton had seen some talented wood carvings in the past, but most things beautiful were left to nature in Aragonia. Colors, once thought the prevue of flowers and birds, were reproduced in cloth and on wooden tablets with a skill Kelton would have never thought possible. Ignorance was an ugly weakness, and the Brethren kept it so.
Kelton talked Rolic into another round with swords. He was sure he had been easily beaten due to the after-effects of the mead. He was somewhat correct. This time he was able to hold on to his sword for a few more heartbeats before it went flying from his grasp. Rolic was less cruel and only tapped his shoulder once with the flat of his blade.
"You must stop watching my sword," Rolic said. "I steer your eyes with it, and thus your own blade. I know your intent because I control it." Kelton, shame overshadowing the desire to learn, retrieved his sword from the bush it flew under and returned ready for more.
"I should not watch the sharp thing before me?"
"Not with your main eye," Rolic replied.
"My eyes move as one. I have no favorite, nor the ability to allow one to look away from the other."
"That's not what I meant." Rolic chuckled. "Though I did meet a woman once who could do just that. It was very disconcerting to speak with her when one eye would travel opposite of the other."
Kelton smiled at Rolic's story, trying to imagine a woman moving her eyes about independently. Losing one's sword was less oppressive when blanketed with humor. "Then what do you mean?"
"Look at my chest," Rolic said, slapping his blade across it. "All movement is centered here. Your main eye should focus on it, and your secondary will see the rest."
"Secondary?"
"Are you looking at my chest?" Rolic asked. Kelton nodded. "Don't look away and tell me where my sword is." Rolic moved his sword out to his right. Kelton pointed to it without moving his eyes. It seemed a silly game.
"What you see that surrounds where your eyes are looking is your secondary sight. You must learn to use it, to trust it. My chest, my shoulders, and most importantly, my head will dictate most actions. You secondary eye will identify the rest." Rolic swung his sword across his body. Kelton smiled. He saw Rolic's shoulder shifting before the blade began to move. Ignorance was a weakness that can be overcome with knowledge.
The sparring continued. Kelton was elated that he no longer lost his grip on his sword. Not losing would take many more lessons. Years of it if he considered how easily Rolic's blade found unprotected portions of his body. Kelton made it a mission to lengthen the time it took Rolic to find those exposed parts.
"You are a fast study," Rolic complimented. Kelton noticed a drop of sweat forming on Rolic's temple. It didn't matter that Kelton was drenched in his own. He was thrilled to see a sign of Rolic's effort.
"You teach well," Kelton returned. "I fear it will take years of practice to be your equal."
"And many more to equal one of the Brethren," Rolic said as he sheathed his sword. "They are not idle in their temples. They have been masters of the art for more years than you know."
"How do you know this?" Kelton asked. He said it casually as if the answer meant nothing. Rolic started laughing.
"No, my boy, you are no fool," Rolic said. He placed his arm around Kelton's shoulders, and they began walking back to the cave. "You pick up on tidbits and throw them back at me quickly. If I were full of mead, you'd know everything."
