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Chapter Twelve: Reia
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2024-10-29 19:42:56Instructor Irvina taught them of reiaology and always had a way of making the class interesting simply with the sound of her voice. It was something the poets from the books Kilvic had read growing up would have describe as a subtle caress of an unexpected drop of rain under a blazing sun on a hot summer afternoon. A soothing reprise from the pain of everything else. Students were known to have said listening to her made them forget the ache in the muscles from the evenings of sword practice under Grunald and the morning’s unarmed training under instructor Haru.
Today, she taught on the second stage of reia evolution. A stage referred to as the condensation stage.
The first stage was the willed stage. It was the point when reia began reacting to a mage’s will. Most mages manifest reia by their eight year of age, at that point all it did was learn to react to the reia in everything else and, in time, to the emotions of the mage. However, an externally reacti
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“…You were the one that chose him, remember?” one of the men with a scattered mop of hair on his head was saying. “We watched them, paid attention, and when you saw him play at the bar you chose him. ‘a boy that plays like that wouldn’t have much love for combat’ you said. Remember?” The man was frantic but the one that had led Kilvic’s quarry into the alley calmed him, then turned to the man in the jacket. “Were you followed?” “No,” Kilvic’s quarry answered. “How can you be sure?” “Because I used that running away technique you showed me,” he answered. “The one where I use the alleys and cross the roads. I don’t know why I had to do all that, I could’ve been here long sooner.” Then he turned to one of the other men, satisfied with his own answer, and asked, “What happened to your face?” The man questioned put a hand to his face then turned and drove a vicious kick into the side of one of the students lying on the floor, inciting a pained groa
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Kilvic staggered backwards, his body held incline into a fall. His feet were the only things that kept him up. Counting away in multiple minute steps, they kept him up, kept him from the fall as he pushed away, increasing the distance. The deadman’s walk came easier to him now. Of all the moves they were taught, it came the easiest, the simplest. Perhaps it was his favorite now. Perhaps not. It definitely kept him away from the pain. After three breaths he staggered into position, returned into a defensive form.Naralayn had done much to remain his sparring partner, but ever since Stratin had proved more sufficient it had become harder for the young noble to choose him for a partner. Naralayn did not cease in his attempts though, until their instructor determined having Naralayn as a sparring partner was not good for the young noble’s development. So, today, Kilvic found Sharmin as his sparring partner. And Sharmin was an easier opponent to survive agains
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“Same as last year.” Lacra made a grunting sound like gravels scraping. She coughed, turned her head to the side, and spat out a blob of blood stained spittle. “Same as last fucking year.”She was seated on the sand. Her tattered clothes did not leave much for imaginations, but the necessary parts were covered and she cast the perfect look of a warrior from battle. Gyra and Kilvic stood in front of her. Around them the others were beginning to rise groggily. It had been roughly fifteen minutes since Lacra had surrendered and Kilvic noted her injuries were gone, completely healed. He turned his head to Fyodan where he stood, the first to come to his feet. Behind him the crack in the arena wall was also gone. Healing or reconstructive, he wondered. They did not have an arena like this in castle Grey. They did not have an arena that fixed itself… or those within it.Its effects were slow, but each of the students were comin
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