The Elder Lands

Lucan lay in bed, scrutinizing his Blessing’s manifestation. There was much to decide, and even more to contemplate before that.

Race: Human

Level: 9

Vital Orbs: 24

Mind and Body

Physique: Iron I 0/15

Spirit: Basic 0/1

Skills (0) 0/100

(Passive) Swordsmanship lv26: Journeyman

(Hybrid) 7-Point Star Dance lv12: Apprentice (0/2)

(Active) Wraith Strike lv8: Novice (0/1)

His Star Dance had gotten past the novice stage, and that marked a significant change. He’d still have only ten uses of the Skill, but every level after ten provided noticeable enhancement to the Skill itself. He’d tried using the Skill once in Lord Arden’s castle and there had been a real if slight increase in the distance between the Star’s points. But while such an improvement was acceptable, it wasn’t worth two Vital Orbs yet, not until he’d made certain that the rest of his humble abilities were at as favorable a stage as it.

Raising Wraith Strike to level ten was a foregone decision. Two more uses of the Skill a day would provide a considerable edge.

That still left him with twenty-two Orbs. Too many to throw into his Skills and leave his Body stagnating. The journey of his Physique would be a long one from here on out, and today he would take the first steps on his path to Steel. Fortunately, he was already in bed, so he went ahead and poured fifteen Orbs into it.

A tingling sensation took his body, along with a spreading heat that began at his heart and rippled all the way to his limbs. The mixture of sensations lingered for a short time and then began to recede into a faint tension which soon disappeared into a memory.

Lucan let out a sigh of relief, eying the now-improved Iron II Physique. Its effects wouldn’t be too significant, but it was a step forward.

He still had seven Orbs to expend, and only two Skills waiting for them. Again, his eyes returned to the Star. It had saved his life more than once, giving him an edge that his enemies hadn’t expected. Yet…the Star had an advantage that Wraith Strike didn’t. Its level could improve through his use of it. And as Lucan worked more and more on his Blessing, he grew an appreciation for each Vital Orb, an appreciation that he hadn’t had before, even if he earned more of them with each level he gained. As long as he could improve the Star with skill, it would be a waste to spend Orbs on it.

With his mind made up, his eyes settled on the level ten Wrath Strike which now required two Vital Orbs to push into the first level of Apprentice. The Skill was useful, but it had proven limited in his last battle, mostly because it was still too weak, which going into the Apprentice stage would hopefully remedy, at least to a certain extent. It was a gradual improvement, after all. He couldn’t expect his Skill to be as potent as his father’s overnight.

He sank six of the Vital Orbs into the Skill, augmenting it with three more levels and into the Apprentice stage. He smiled at his blessing. It was a considerable improvement that he gained tonight.

Race: Human

Level: 9

Vital Orbs: 1

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Mind and Body

Physique: Iron II 0/20

Spirit: Basic 0/1

Skills (0) 0/100

(Passive) Swordsmanship lv26: Journeyman

(Hybrid) 7-Point Star Dance lv12: Apprentice (0/2)

(Active) Wraith Strike lv13: Apprentice (0/2)

An enhancement to his body and his Skill made him a more capable fighter, no doubt. With both his Skills usable ten times every day, he was more capable of prolonged combat, and by the time he got his Physique to Steel, they would hopefully have become powerful enough to make him a lethal combatant.

Once he dismissed his Blessing, the smile slowly slipped off his face. For while the Blessing’s enhancement was cause for joy, it also brought with it memories of the battle from which it had come. The fear he’d seen in the eyes of the first man he’d killed. The fear he’d felt himself once he recognized that desperate need that every man had…to live, to be something more than another loss among thousands of thousands before them, to be as every single one of them felt, different. That need, that fiction had been torn away from him on that day. Because no man was different when it came to untimely death. Even Emperors had been slain before.

But…perhaps some men were harder to kill than others. Perhaps he would find out if that was true.

As one memory receded, another took its place unabated. His near death at the hands of the Bear. The overwhelming power of the giant of a man. Power that didn’t only come from his opponent’s size, but from his Blessing too, from his capability and experience. Power that made Lucan aware of his true place on that ethereal ladder of competence. Somewhere that wasn’t good enough.

But sooner or later, he would find a proper place.

With that thought on the edge of his mind, sleep stealthily and slowly claimed him with its soft embrace.

“I warned you.”

“I know.”

His father sighed, rays of the morning sun penetrating his study’s window and casting him in its shadow. “Entanglements with people like the princess are not so easily unentangled, Son. If you thought being away from the capital has spared you from that, then there’s your proof that it hasn’t.” He gestured at the letter in Lucan’s hands.

“I know,” Lucan ground the words out again. That the princess was approaching him for more ‘favors’ was concerning. Perhaps he should refuse her, in order to draw a line.

His father’s next words surprised him. “She’s testing you.”

“She is?” Lucan asked, perplexed.

“Yes,” his father said. “She’s much like her father in that.”

Lucan chuckled. “I don’t believe she would take well to hearing that.”

His father raised a brow. “Why?”

“She dislikes the King more than any ordinary daughter might dislike a father.”

His father shook his head. “Regardless of her feelings, she is like him. She’s asking you for a service she can get easily from others, or even without asking. It’s a test to see whether you’d respond, ignore her, or outright refuse.”

“Then I should refuse,” Lucan said. “It may discourage her from bothering with us again.”

His father shook his head again, ruefully this time, as though having expected his response. “That’s not the whole extent of her test. If you refuse, she will take away any resources she can from you to see whether you’d respond well then. I believe she’s already pointed at that in her letter, hasn’t she?”

Lucan frowned and nodded. She’d mentioned all those things she could influence, like Lilian and Sawyer whom she could possibly call back. “Then what should we do?”

“Write her back with what she wants to hear,” his father said. “Lord Arden’s health is no secret, and we don’t know much about his grandson’s temperament, or rather, you don’t.”

“And what do we do when she asks for real favors later?”

“I suppose we’ll have to reckon with that when we come to it,” his father said

Lucan nodded slowly.

“I’d counsel even more caution with the princess,” his father said. “But I would think you’re already as guarded as one can be, yes?”

Lucan couldn’t help but huff in amusement. “Yes, I’ve learned much from this visit to the capital.”

“And still learning, apparently,” his father said with an even chuckle.

“Yes.”

That afternoon, Lucan did as advised by his father, writing to the princess about Lord Arden; how frail he’d looked, and how he’d had to stay far from the fighting. He also mentioned Lord Arden’s grandson, Ren, in passing while lamenting that he didn’t know much about the boy to tell her, since he’d only seen him once and they hadn’t spoken.

With that done, he had Thomas handle the matter of a courier for the letter and committed his focus to the betterment of their fief.

Thankfully, something good managed to take his mind entirely off the matter. Thomas brought word that the widower who owned the drinking corner had agreed to their offer to assist in building a proper inn in the soon-to-be expanded bailey. In exchange, they would lay claim to half of the inn’s profits and ownership.