When he’d stood before endless weapons, not a single one had called out to him until he’d come across the katar. His gaze had lingered over the weapon, as if sucked toward it. The moment he touched the dagger, he felt a connection to the weapon, though Vir was sure he’d never held one before.
It had been the right decision. There was an instant familiarity with the katar during the duel. His movements flowed better than they should’ve, his thrusts quicker and more natural. It was satisfying.
Vir idly wondered if this was how it felt to possess an elemental affinity.
Riyan leaned against a weapon rack, and thanks to the rays of the setting sun filtered through the skylights high above, he looked like he was glowing. “To answer your earlier question, you are like a blank slate. Untrained and ready to be imprinted with my teachings.”
The Ghost of Godshollow gave Vir one of his penetrating gazes. “You will specialize in stealth. Subterfuge and infiltration. Learning how to conceal your identity will benefit you greatly as an Ashborn.”
“I don’t think a hood’s gonna cover up his eyes and skin,” Maiya said. “Vir always wore a hood in the village, but everyone still knew who he was.”
“When I speak of stealth, what comes to your mind?” Riyan said.
Vir thought for a moment before replying. “I mean, hiding, right? Someone who wears a hood and skulks around at night so no one can see them?”
“Girl. What say you?”
“That’s what I thought of as well,” Maiya replied.
“Wrong. If such a person were spotted, would it not be immediately obvious that they were up to no good? Wouldn’t you be on guard against such a suspicious person?”
Neither Vir nor Maiya could argue with that.
“So what is stealth, then?” Vir asked.
“The art of being present, yet invisible. The ability to walk up to your worst adversaries and walk right past them without arousing suspicion. It is the ability to stride into King Rayid’s palace, steal as you wish, and leave with an invitation to return again tomorrow.”
“I don’t understand,” Vir said. “That’s impossible.”
“Not impossible. Through makeup, one can change their appearance. Proper clothing can turn a commoner into a nobleman’s son. By changing the way you carry yourself, by altering your mannerisms and the way you speak, you could even change your gender. A true master of subterfuge does not merely imitate an appearance. They become the person they wish to be.”
Vir’s jaw was agape. If that was true, it’d fundamentally change the way he lived his life. He’d be treated like everyone else. Respected. Loved by all.
“And why would you want someone who specializes in stealth?” Maiya asked, hoping to probe his intentions.
“The uses are many. In the boy’s case, he can pass off as a normal human. Need I even mention how useful it would be to hide his status as an Ashborn? Besides, mastering this skill would allow you access to normally restricted places. It would allow you to perform all manner of deeds without anyone being the wiser.”
Like a thief, thought Vir. And when he glanced at his friend, he swore he could hear her thoughts:
Like an assassin.
Vir agreed this was a brilliant solution for him. Not only would he be able to hide that he was an Ashborn, if he pulled this off well, he could even avoid combat entirely. His stamina was his greatest weakness, and he doubted that would change much, even with Riyan’s training.
He’d always be at a disadvantage, but if there were other ways of protecting oneself and those dear to him? He’d be a fool not to learn it. If he passed off as a Sawai—as aristocracy—nobody would dare harm anyone close to him.
“Of course, there are times that call for invisibility. Times where none must ever notice you. There are Talents that support such actions as well.”
“I thought you said Talents were rare in warriors?” Vir asked.
“Only uncommon, not rare. Though, no one can know whether they will manifest a Talent. Talents do not use magic, and thus they cannot be tested for aptitude. They can, however, be used anywhere in the world without issue. Even a prana scorned Ashborn might have a chance,” Riyan said.
Until now, Vir never really believed he might be able to wield Talents. The mere possibility made him swoon with excitement.
“Hmm,” said Maiya. “What about my magic training? When do I get to start that?”
“Patience, girl. I have located someone suitable, but it will take some time to convince her. Tanya can be somewhat stubborn.”
“Could I learn magic with Maiya, too?” Vir asked. “Even if I can’t use magic, it’d still be useful to know how it works, right?”
Riyan crossed his arms and shook his head. “No. Time wasted learning magic could be spent developing your Kalari arts. I will not squander resources teaching someone something they can never use.”
“But—”
“This is my final say on the matter.”
Vir ground his teeth. You think that’s gonna stop me?
He briefly considered divulging Prana Vision to Riyan before rejecting it. He’d have to prove to the man that he wasn’t lying, and even if he did, there were no guarantees Riyan would acquiesce—Vir still couldn’t use orbs, after all. Plus, there was a benefit to hiding his abilities. If he and Maiya greatly exceeded their instructor’s expectations, there was a possibility the man would ask for an even larger favor when the time arrived.
Vir’s eyes blazed with unquenchable determination. This would be a setback, nothing more. It wasn’t like Riyan could stop him from sneaking up on Maiya while she trained. Especially if he mastered the art of stealth like Riyan wanted.
A taut smile crept upon Vir’s face.
Nothing in this realm or the next could prevent him from learning the secrets of magic. Not Riyan. Not the Fates. Nothing.
18KALARIPAYATTU
“No!” Riyan scolded, grasping Vir’s arm and fixing his form. “Not like that. Like this!”
The fresh rays of the morning sun filtered through the skylights in the training dome’s ceiling high above as Vir worked through his moves on the sand far below.
He threw another uppercut, for what must have been the millionth time. Any more, and he felt like his arms would fall off. To make matters worse, his feet were red from spending hours on the sand.
For the past two weeks, Vir and Maiya had risen at dawn every day. For the subsequent five hours, they would train without a single break. Riyan would then dismiss them for lunch, after which they would reconvene for afternoon sessions. Unlike the morning round, which had a fixed duration, their second daily session lasted until they collapsed from exhaustion. They lived and breathed training.
The moment Vir recovered from his duel with Riyan, both he and Maiya had been subjected to this endless training.
Vir found it a little surprising that Riyan didn’t have them do pushups or any other strength building exercise. They focused only on either stretching exercises or combat practice. Their instructor said that alone would give them all the strength training they’d ever need.
The worst part was, as their endurance grew from their training, the days only grew longer and longer. Vir still keeled over every few minutes from the exertion, but he could now rest for a few minutes and go again. And he could keep up the exertion for a few more seconds before reaching his limits now.
Of course, that was still nowhere even close to Maiya’s development. Her stamina had improved much quicker than his had, which widened her lead over him.
“To the posts!” Riyan shouted.
They both ceased their punching practice and sprinted to the wooden log posts that had been erected in the center of the training dome. The balancing posts were two or three paces tall and were just barely wide enough to stand on with one foot.