Heir Of The Fallen Flame

Chapter 27: First Practice

The air smelled of wet earth, chopped herbs, and smoke from the cooking fire outside Liam’s small home.

And Kael was still cutting vegetables. Again.

The knife struck the wooden board repeatedly, sounding like the beating of a drum with one stick.

Carrots. Turnips. Onions. By the light, always onions. He’s been at it for days now! He might as well open his own shade in the market!

Kael sat cross-legged beneath the shaded awning beside Liam’s hut, surrounded by baskets overflowing with vegetables. A mountain of chopped pieces already filled three wooden bowls near his knees.

Sweat clung to the back of his neck and his fingers smelled permanently of onions now. Across the field, Lyra moved through combat drills with Liam. Or rather…she survived them.

The old man stood barefoot in the grass holding nothing but his wooden plank while Lyra attacked him relentlessly with her sword.

And somehow… He kept winning.

“Too slow,” Liam barked.

Lyra swung again. The plank cracked sharply against her wrist before she could complete the strike.

She hissed through her teeth.

“Your anger moves before your blade,” Liam said calmly.

Lyra reset her stance and Kael’s eye twitched as he applied even more pressure to the vegetables he was cutting.

Tak. Tak. Tak. Another onion. Another damned onion.

Five days.

Five entire days since arriving at Liam’s hilltop home and Kael had done nothing except cut vegetables, wash rice, carry water, peel roots, sort beans, and count grains like some cursed kitchen servant.

Meanwhile Lyra was actually training. Steel rang across the field again. Kael glanced over just in time to watch Liam sweep Lyra’s feet from beneath her with the plank.

She crashed hard into the dirt. Liam pointed at her without sympathy.

“You looked at my hands,” he said. “A fool watches the weapon. Keep your eyes on the feet.”

Lyra groaned and pushed herself back up. Kael slammed the knife down harder than necessary.

“Wonderful,” he muttered bitterly. “Everyone learns except me.”

TAK. TAK. TAK. He slammed the blade even harder on the chopping board.

Liam sidestepped another attack from Lyra and struck her shoulder lightly with the plank.

“You hesitate before killing blows,” the old man observed.

She glanced at him, stunned, “I was not trying to kill you.”

“That is why you would die.” the old man said.

He wasn't taking this as pratice as she had. Goodness, maybe she made a mistake asking for a duel partner?

Kael finally snapped. The knife slammed into the chopping board hard enough to split the wood.

“WHEN DOES THE TRAINING START?”

The shout echoed across the hillside and Silence followed immediately. Even the birds seemed offended by it.

Lyra froze mid-step. Liam slowly turned his head toward Kael. The old man stared at him for several long seconds without speaking.

Kael stood abruptly, chest rising and falling hard.

“I am serious,” he said. “I did not come all this way to chop vegetables until I rot.”

By heavens, he reeked of them now!

Liam blinked once. Then he looked genuinely confused.

“Did you not?”

Kael stared at him. “What?”

Liam rested the plank across one shoulder lazily. “Did you not come here to cut vegetables?”

Kael’s mouth fell open. “No!”

The old man frowned thoughtfully. “Strange.”

Kael stepped forward angrily. “How is that strange?”

Liam scratched his beard. “Well,” he said, “you never once asked me to teach you.”

Kael stopped moving. The words hit him harder than expected.

Liam continued calmly. “You arrived at my home carrying sacks like a frightened goat and when I handed you vegetables, you cut them.” He shrugged. “So I gave you more.”

Kael blinked slowly. “That...” he started weakly, “that should have been obvious.”

“Should it?”

“Yes!”

Liam pointed at him with the plank. “There.”

Kael frowned. What is he talking about again?

“For the first time since you arrived,” Liam said, “you spoke plainly.”

The wind moved softly through the grass between them. Kael’s anger faltered. Wait, what?! He's been suffering because he wasn't direct? Didn't this man seem to understand why they were here?

Kael's mouth hung open, having no clue how to respond to this. Liam stepped closer now, old eyes sharp despite his relaxed posture.

“You mumble around what you want,” he said. “And circle it like prey too dangerous to touch.” His expression hardened faintly. “That is why people make choices for you.”

Kael went still. Liam tapped the broken chopping board with the plank.

“You wished to train.” Tap. “But you assumed I knew what you wanted.” Tap. “So I watched.”

Kael looked away, goodness gracious! The old man was right. He hated that he was right.

Liam snorted softly. “A fighter who cannot speak plainly dies before he gets to live.”

Kael folded his arms tightly. “So what?” he muttered. “Now suddenly you’ll train me?”

Liam raised a brow. “Did I say that?”

Kael nearly lost his mind. Lyra, watching nearby, covered her mouth slightly to hide what suspiciously looked like amusement.

Kael pointed accusingly. “You’ve been training her!”

“Aye.”

“And not me!”

“Aye.”

“Why?!”

“Because she asked.”

Kael stared at him in disbelief. “Will you train me then?”

The man stared at him long and hard and nodded. “Aye.” Liam turned away, “Come.”

Kael stood still in shock. That was it? Just like that?!

He followed reluctantly while muttering several things beneath his breath that probably offended at least three gods.

The training grounds stretched wide behind the house; open grass bordered by stone markers and old trees scarred with sword cuts from years past.

At the center sat two large wooden buckets filled to the brim with water.

Kael eyed them suspiciously.

Liam pointed. “Pick them up.”

Kael did, groaning slightly as he straightened up.

“Now,” Liam said, “run.”

Kael blinked. “Run where?”

The old man pointed toward a narrow dirt trail circling the entire hillside.

“Round.” Liam said. “Without spilling a drop.”

Kael stared down at the water and then back at Liam.

“You are joking.”

Liam’s face remained completely serious. Kael laughed once but no one joined him.

“…You are not joking.”

“Uhm.”

Kael looked at Lyra desperately like she might rescue him from this madness. She folded her arms.

“Do not look at me,” she said. “I warned you.”

Liam smacked the back of Kael’s leg lightly with the plank.

“Move.”

Kael stumbled forward with the buckets swinging wildly. Water splashed immediately onto his boots.

Liam sighed dramatically behind him.

“Hopeless.”

Kael gritted his teeth and continued down the trail.

The buckets pulled hard against his shoulders almost immediately. Water sloshed dangerously close to the rims with every uneven step.

“How,” Kael panted, “is this combat training?”

Liam walked beside him effortlessly.

“It is not.”

Kael glared at him. “Eh?!”

“You cannot throw a fist if you cannot control water.”

“That makes no sense.”

Liam shrugged. “Most truths do not.”

Kael hated this man already. Well, he hated him before this moment. The trail curved sharply uphill.

By the light!

His arms burned within minutes. Every movement became torture. The buckets dragged downward harder with each step while water splashed against his hands relentlessly.

Behind him, Liam spoke calmly. “Too tense.”

Kael nearly snarled. “I am carrying two lakes!”

“And spilling both.”

Kael looked down. The buckets were already half-empty.

Liam sighed in disappointment. “Again.”

Kael froze. “What?”

“Again.”

“I just started!”

“And failed already.”

Kael stared at him in horror. Liam pointed back toward the starting point.

“Return.”

Kael wanted to throw the buckets directly at his face. Instead, he turned around. Mostly because Lyra was watching. And he refused to embarrass himself further.

Unfortunately, the return trip was worse. His legs shook halfway down the slope and water splashed repeatedly.

Liam criticized every mistake. “Your shoulders are stiff.”

“You breathe like a dying mule.”

“Stop stomping.”

“Mind the rhythm.”

“Use your hips.” Liam snapped. “Why type of man doesn’t know how to use his hips?!”

“What hips?” Kael snapped. “I am suffering!”

Lyra’s laughter followed faintly from the field behind them.

Traitor.

By the fifth attempt, Kael’s entire body ached. His palms burned red from gripping the bucket handles. Sweat soaked through his borrowed shirt and still Liam refused to let him stop.

Every spill meant restarting and every stumble earned criticism. Kael wanted to scream. At one point he nearly collapsed beside the trail entirely.

Liam crouched beside him calmly. “Tired?”

Kael glared upward. “No,” he lied weakly.

“Good.” Liam stood. “Again.”

Kael groaned into the dirt. Somewhere nearby, Lyra sat beneath a tree sharpening her sword while openly enjoying his misery now.

“I hate both of you,” Kael muttered.

Lyra smiled faintly without looking up. “Your form is improving.”

“That sounds like something demons say before suffering increases.”

Liam barked a laugh. “There may yet be hope for you.”

Kael pushed himself upright slowly, his muscles trembled violently now. Still, he picked up the buckets again.

This time more carefully. He adjusted his footing before moving, one slow step after another.

The water rippled but did not spill. Liam watched silently beside him now.

Kael focused harder. The buckets moved with his breathing instead of against it. He started a slight jog, minding the water as he did.

Liam’s eyes narrowed slightly with approval. Maybe the foolish boy wasn't beyond helping after all.