Chapter 50: Everything I Had, Part One

I stopped in the doorway. The room had seemed large when Ezkyrath made me practice walking across it. With Raven standing in the center, it did not seem large at all.

He wore the same armor he had arrived in, dark plates edged by old, worn metal. Nothing about it appeared decorative. He stood nearly twice my height. His shoulders were wide enough that I could easily hide behind him. His gauntlets closed around the hilt of his sword.

He lowered his head in a slight bow. I could see into his visor: the dark within that wasn’t really dark, the absence. He didn’t look like the demons from the stories. I didn’t get the same sense of fear when I see him compared to the behemoth or even the imp.

My own sword and shield rested on the floor between us. Raven had no shield. He did not appear to need one.

I crossed the room and picked up my equipment. The shield felt lighter after the rest, though my shoulder still ached from the stance sequence. The sword settled into my hand. The hidden utensils shifted around my waist.

I strapped the shield into place and followed him into the adjoining meditation room, which had become the room where we practiced our stances.

The chamber was dimmer than the Lord’s study. It was carved entirely from stone and barren except for a low basin of polished stone at its center. The basin was small enough for us to move around easily and filled nearly to the rim with water. A soft blue light glowed from beneath it, shining upward through the water. It was certainly not fire.

I had spent hours sitting there, meditating or practicing stances. No demons were allowed inside except those I summoned, so it was one of the few places in the manor where I could close my eyes and feel completely alone.

The bare stone should have made the room feel cold and enclosed. Instead, the darkness around its edges reminded me of the deeper parts of the forest, where the trees grew so close together that their branches blocked most of the sunlight. Even the blue glow beneath the water reminded me of moontouched mushrooms.

This room had become my place of peace. Today, however, the open floor looked different.

The room where I normally sat without moving, and where I had learned how to stand, was now where I would learn how to fight. There was nothing between us to hide behind. Nothing I could use to keep Raven away from me. Even the blue glow seemed insufficient, leaving the edges of the room in darkness.

Raven walked to the basin and stopped over it, planting one armored foot on either side. The blue light shone up between his legs and caught against the underside of his armor as he turned to face me.

I swallowed.

Raven drew his sword without a word. The sound of metal leaving the sheath scraped through the room.

The blade was longer than my entire arm. It did not shine brightly in the dim light. It seemed to take what little light reached it and hold it along the edge.

Raven lowered the point.

“Fight with everything you have.”

I reached for Olive. She was lying safely in the attic. The bed pressed against her back. Warm sunlight rested across her legs. The young Guttervine was curled around her wrist.

I let it all go. The attic faded. The warmth disappeared. The pressure of the bed vanished. Olive’s breathing became distant, then silent.

Both parts of my awareness narrowed through Lucarion.

Focused Thoughts.

The room opened around me. I could see Raven’s sword, the angle of his helmet, the exact position of his feet. I could hear the faint drag of my own breath. I could feel every point where the shield touched my arm and every place the stolen utensils pressed against my body.

Raven had not moved.

I moved into the first stance slowly: sword ready, shield raised, knees bent, weight centered. Raven remained still.

Good.

I slowly slid two fingers beneath the shield and found the smaller fork. The shield was strapped against my arm. My hand still held the inner grip, but I could loosen two fingers without releasing it completely.

Slowly, I drew the fork free. Raven’s helmet did not move.

I shifted forward. My shield hid my hand. One step. Then another.

Raven waited.

I snapped my arm upward. The fork spun into the air. It caught the room’s faint light as it climbed above us.

Raven’s helmet tilted. Barely. The darkness behind the visor shifted upward.

I rushed him.

My body felt horribly slow. Focused Thoughts gave me enough time to notice every problem with the movement. My first step was too long. My weight tipped forward. My sword arm began rising before my shield had protected it.

I corrected as much as I could.

Raven was twice my height. Most of him was beyond my reach, but his ankle wasn’t. I lowered myself further, then lunged. My sword swept toward the seam above his armored foot.

Raven moved. His foot turned sideways. I knew the blade was going to miss before it did, but I couldn’t correct it in time.

The sword struck the polished rim of the basin. The impact jarred my wrist. Water jumped beneath Raven, breaking the blue light into ripples across his armor.

Raven swung his sword downward, the flat aiming for my blade. I jerked my wrist, then threw myself backward.

The fork struck the floor behind Raven. He did not look at it.

I regained my original stance: legs wide, knees bent, ready to swap positions. Raven remained where he was. He looked down at the sword mark I had left near his foot. Then his helmet turned toward me.

I couldn’t help but smile. I had almost hit him. My very first attempt at a real duel, and I almost hit him!

Raven stepped forward.

His sword came toward my left side. Focused Thoughts stretched the movement apart. I saw his gauntlet turn around the hilt. His elbow moved only slightly. His shoulders remained level. The blade traveled in a short, controlled path.

Shield.

I needed to raise the shield and turn it outward, to deflect the blow. Not too far. If I extended it, he would pull it aside. My left foot needed to move back. My knees needed to stay bent.

I knew everything I needed to do. My body began doing it.

Too slowly.

Raven’s blade struck the shield before my foot had finished moving. The sound cracked through the room. My arm folded against my chest. The force drove me sideways. I stumbled, caught myself, and dragged the shield back into place.

Raven had already changed direction. His sword came from above.

I stepped aside. My foot landed correctly. I pivoted, dodging his swing and allowing my momentum to lead to my own.

He caught my sword against his own. For a moment, the blades touched. Nothing happened.

Raven did not shift. His sword did not move. I might as well have been trying to push against a wall. Focused Thoughts gave me plenty of time to understand that. I dropped my weight and pulled my sword away before he could trap it.

Raven allowed me. Then he attacked again. The next strike came toward my shield.

I raised it again, this time angling it correctly for the deflect, but Raven changed the angle before contact and struck my sword instead. The blade jumped in my hand.

My fingers opened. I saw the sword moving towards the ground. I moved my knee, bouncing the hilt back up towards my hand. I felt tears forming in my eyes from the pain.

Raven’s foot moved forward.

I retreated into the next stance. Back foot first. Weight between both legs. Shield close. Sword across my body.

The sequence Raven taught me was there, but the fight refused to wait for me to complete each part. Every position lasted only until Raven changed the problem.

His sword came low. I turned aside and brought mine down to redirect it. The blades met. My arms strained.

Raven’s sword continued moving anyway, dragging mine with it. I managed to turn the point away from my leg, but the force twisted my shoulders. I spun farther than I meant to.

My back faced him.

I ducked. Raven’s blade passed above my head. I looked up and saw he had aimed over my head; it wouldn’t have landed anyway.

He must be avoiding hurting me!

I turned and raised the shield. Raven’s gauntlet struck it.

The blow shoved me three steps backward. My boots scraped against the floor as I tried to stop. My shoulders burned. My shield arm had gone numb from the elbow down.

Raven advanced slowly, even for Focused Thoughts.

He wanted me to see him coming.

I moved into another stance. My sword point shook. The spoon pressed against my side. I reached beneath the shield.

Raven’s helmet shifted toward the movement.

He knew.

I pulled the spoon free and threw it directly at his visor. Raven lifted his sword. The spoon struck the flat of the blade with a tiny ringing sound and flew toward the wall. He had moved so little that it almost looked as though I had thrown it at his sword on purpose.

I attacked while his blade was raised.

Raven lowered it. Our swords met again. He turned his wrist, and my blade slid along his. The movement pulled my arm away from my body.

An opening.

Raven attacked. I saw every strike. Fear jumped through me as the sword kept swinging. I could see it in detail.

I saw the sword approaching my shoulder and knew I had enough time to turn.

I saw his next strike coming toward my leg. I lifted the sword as if to intercept it, then dodged out of the way instead. I retreated.

He followed.

I shifted into a stance that allowed greater movement. Sword forward. Shield near my body. Weight ready to move in any direction. For one moment, everything aligned.

Raven struck high. I caught it with the shield and turned the force aside. The blow still shook my arm, but it did not fold me backward.

His sword moved low. I stepped away and redirected it with mine.

Raven advanced. I retreated without crossing my feet.

High. Shield. Low. Sword. Forward. Step aside.

For several breaths, I moved through the sequence without stopping. The stances were no longer something I was showing Raven. They were answers. Each one became the next because it had to.

Raven’s sword scraped along the edge of my shield. I turned with it and swung toward his side.

He blocked.

I pulled the sword back instead of pushing uselessly against him. His helmet tilted.

That small movement nearly distracted me enough to get hit. Raven’s blade came toward my chest.

I dropped low. The sword passed above me. I rolled beneath his arm and came up behind him. I swung at the back of his leg.

Raven’s sword appeared between us. I did not see how he moved it there. One moment, it had been in front of him. The next, its edge blocked mine behind his back.

He turned. I jumped away. My legs almost failed when I landed.

My arms felt filled with hot sand. I had one fork and one knife left. The larger fork pressed against my stomach.

I shifted the shield closer, hiding my hand again. Raven stepped forward.

I drew the fork. He saw the movement.

This time, I did not throw it. I waited.

Raven’s sword moved toward the shield. I shoved the fork between two plates near his wrist. It did not penetrate anything. The prongs scraped harmlessly against the armor.

But Raven paused only for an instant before he opened his hand. His sword dropped.

I stared at it. The weapon fell toward the floor.

Focused Thoughts gave me time to understand.

He had let go because I had stabbed his wrist, he was pretending it actually did damage.

He’s humoring me.

His empty hand closed around my forearm. I pulled back. Nothing happened.

Raven lifted me. My boots left the floor. I kicked at his chest. One of my boots hit his head.

He threw me aside. Threw!

I was able to shift myself in the air and landed rolling before jumping to my feet and rushing around the edge of the room.

I turned my head just in time to see Raven’s sword come straight toward the center of my shield. Even as I braced, I realized he could have aimed anywhere, yet he went for my shield.

The impact drove the shield into my chest. My breath left me. I stumbled backward.

Raven continued. He did not give me time to recover now.

One strike hit the shield. Another drove my sword aside. A third stopped near my shoulder.

I twisted away. His foot moved into my path. I nearly tripped over it. I jumped instead.

I could see the sword swinging for me. I lifted my shield along with my knees, curling behind it. Raven struck the shield while I was still in the air.

I flew through the air and landed on my side. Pain spread through my hip.

His sword lowered toward me.

I rolled. The blade touched the floor where my shoulder had been. Raven had slowed it enough that I could escape.

I pushed myself up. My sword had fallen beside me. Raven stood between us.

I stared at the weapon. He waited.

I rushed left. His helmet turned with me.

I changed direction. My legs protested. Raven moved to block me.

I raised the shield as though I intended to strike him with it, then dropped low and reached beneath his arm. My fingers closed around the sword’s grip.

Raven’s gauntlet descended.

I pulled the sword free and rolled away before he could catch me. My shoulder struck the floor. I came up onto one knee.

Raven’s blade stopped against the top of my shield. The weight pressed me downward.

I pushed back. It did nothing. My knee slid across the stone. Focused Thoughts made me feel every uneven point of the floor pressing into it as Raven slowly forced me lower.

Raven could have crushed me into the floor. Instead, he held the pressure steady. He wanted me to solve it.

I knew I could not overpower him. I did not need to.

I released the inner grip and yanked my arm free of the straps, leaving the shield between us as I rolled away.

Raven’s blade drove it to the floor.

I came up without it. The loss made my left side feel horribly exposed.

Raven lifted his sword. I held mine with both hands.

He approached. I retreated.

Without the shield, I couldn’t do most of the stances, limiting my options.

Raven swung. I met the blade with mine. The impact nearly tore the sword from both hands. I stepped aside before the force could drive me backward.

Raven struck again. I redirected the blade instead of blocking it. The motion pulled me around. I used the turn to swing at his side.

Raven leaned away. My sword passed in front of his armor without touching it.

I recovered faster this time.

He struck from the other direction. I ducked. My legs screamed as I lowered myself.

The knife pressed against my waist. I still had it.

Raven’s sword passed overhead. His arm extended. The visor turned slightly away from me as his body followed the strike.

An opening.

I took one step back. Raven began bringing the sword around. His helmet had not yet turned fully toward me. The darkness behind the visor shifted.

I could throw the knife.

The edge was blunt. It could not pierce the armor. Raven had no ordinary eyes that I could see, but if I could block the visor, even for an instant... I didn’t have time to consider what came next.

I shifted the sword into one hand. My other hand found the knife.

Raven’s helmet turned.

I threw. The knife spun through the air.

Focused Thoughts let me watch every rotation.

Handle. Blade. Handle. Blade.

It was too high.

I had aimed for the narrow darkness of the visor. The knife struck his forehead instead. It bounced away with a pathetic clink.

Raven moved. His sword withdrew. His body turned. His armored foot rose from the floor.

Focused Thoughts stretched the kick across an eternity.

I saw the angle.

Chest.

I needed the shield. It was behind Raven.

Sword.

I could bring the sword across my body and catch his leg against the flat. My arms began moving.

Too slow.

I could step backward. My rear foot lifted.

Too late.

I could turn. My body had no strength left.

Raven’s boot reached my chest.

For the first time since the fight began, I did not see the exact instant of impact.

The room vanished. Air burst from my lungs. The floor struck my back.

Focused Thoughts shattered.

The attic rushed into me.

Sunlight against Olive’s legs. Blanket beneath her fingers. The Guttervine around her wrist.

Then Lucarion again.

Pain spread through his chest. My breath refused to return. The ceiling swam above me.

I blinked.

Raven stood over me. The tip of his sword rested against my throat.

I stared up at the dark visor.

Raven withdrew the blade.

“That... was excellent.”

I remained on the floor.

“Really?” I gasped.

“Yes.”

I tried to sit up. My chest hurt, but nothing felt broken. Raven had chosen exactly how hard to strike me. Enough to put me down. Not enough to injure me.

That somehow made the kick more insulting.

Raven sheathed his sword.

I looked around the room. My shield lay near the center. The fork I had thrown first rested behind Raven. The spoon had reached the wall. The second fork was farther away. The knife had landed beside the table.

I had scattered an entire place setting across the room.

Raven extended one hand. I took it.

He lifted me to my feet so easily that my boots nearly left the floor again. My legs shook. I tried to stand straight.

Raven released me once he was certain I would remain upright.

“You did well.”

I looked up at him. “What?”

“You did well.”

“I lost,” I said dejectedly.

“You were always going to lose.”

His helmet turned toward the knife.

“You prepared before entering.”

I said nothing. I was not sure whether he was praising me or preparing to explain everything I had done wrong.

“You concealed your tools. You used your shield to hide your intentions. I didn’t teach you any of that.”

“Yes, well, you said to bring everything I had.” I glanced at the utensils scattered across the room. “I would have done better, but I just couldn’t move fast enough.”

“Speed was not always the problem. Your body does not yet know how to obey the decisions you make. That comes through repetition.”

Raven walked toward my shield and lifted it.

“Your preparation was good. Surprise and preparation are among a survivor’s greatest allies.”

He brought the shield back to me. I accepted it, unable to stop a little warmth from spreading through my chest.

“And yet, you held yourself back.”

The warmth disappeared.

I did?

“I used everything.”

Raven’s visor remained fixed on me. Not for the first time, I wished he had a face. It would have been much easier to know what he meant.

“I did. I used everything I could.”

“You did not.”

“Yes, I did!”

“You didn’t summon a single wroughtborn.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

I had not thought about them once. Not while preparing. Not during the fight. Not even when Raven had me pinned beneath his sword.

“I thought you meant weapons,” I said softly, knowing it wasn’t true.

“I said everything.”

Heat crept into my face.

“I know you have trained. You had time to summon allies before starting the battle. You could have placed them around me. Used them to divide my attention. Sent one after your shield when you lost it. Ordered one to attack from behind while you remained beyond my reach.”

I looked down at the shield in my hands. The forks had seemed clever before.

“I forgot.”

Raven went still.

“You forgot?”

“I saw this as sword training.”

His helmet tilted slightly.

“Then why the utensils?”

I looked toward the spoon by the wall.

“You prepared according to what a swordsman might carry,” Raven continued. “You considered what you could conceal, but not what you could command.”

He placed one gauntlet against the center of my shield.

“You are not only a swordsman.”

The metal tapped once against it.

“You are a summoner. You are the Demon Lord. What answers your call is much more a part of what you possess than the weapon in your hand.”

I stared at the darkness behind his visor, where his eyes should have been.

“If this had been a real fight, forgetting them might have killed you.”

My grip tightened around the shield.

“I’ll remember next time.”

“Yes, you will.”