Chapter: 137 – Humanity

Tala let her mind expand, her focus broaden, and her body react on instinct. She forcibly pushed all thoughts of the tree’s god-king from her mind. Not helpful…

Flow’s hilt was at once perfectly smooth and easy to grip securely. It was cool, helping keep her hand from sweating, while not sucking the heat from her hand. In short, it was perfect for her, contouring to her palm and fingers beyond the ability of any craftsman to replicate.

As she’d used the weapon more and more, Tala had noticed that as her grip shifted, gaining better form for sword work, the hilt had seamlessly shifted, maintaining perfect shape for how she was holding it, in that moment.

The grain of the wood beneath her feet was tight and smooth, polished to an almost mirror finish, yet somehow still allowing for firm purchase.

Her stance was relaxed, her muscles loose and ready to react at a moment’s notice.

Rane lunged, driving Force towards her heart in a powerful thrust.

A flick of Flow knocked the point aside without conscious thought on Tala’s part. She slid down the length of his blade, sending out ripples of power as the magic of the two swords conflicted.

She leapt forward with a quick step, maintaining the bind of their blades, the contact letting her know where his weapon was without having to see it, directly.

Even as she closed and lashed out with a back-fist, leaving Flow in her off hand, Rane spun around the strike, bringing his sword in an almost impossibly tight twist, cutting towards her back.

The next moments were a blur of attack and counter, rolling one upon another.

Force and Flow clashed in a staccato series of magical concussions that resonated in Tala’s very bones.

It was a pleasant thrum that pulled a smile from her lips.

As the exchange continued, it became clear that Rane was more tentative than he had been in their previous fights. This allowed Tala to stand on an almost even footing with the big man.

Tala moved Flow through its three shapes with almost no effort, each blow seeming to reverberate through Force and into Rane’s hands and arms.

Force was soul-bound to Rane, now, but Flow had a greater magical weight to it. Its bond to Tala was more deeply ingrained in the weapon than Force’s was with Rane. Each merging Flow had gone through had bound it tighter with her. Those features both gave Flow’s strikes extra oomph.

She didn’t resort to any tricks, not for this first bout, instead relying on her skill, such as it was, along with her enhancements.

Rane wielded his massive blade with the dexterity of a calligrapher using their favorite brush and fine ink.

Even so, despite his skill and competence, Tala was becoming able to see more and more openings. Though, she was unable to take full advantage of any. However, she was able to alter her engagement in order to press him more closely around those openings.

As was usual for them, Rane’s base skill slowly tipped the balance of the exchange, forcing her to extend herself ever more, until at long last, she couldn’t recover quickly enough to stop his riposte.

She did have an instant to react, however, and she used it to great effect.

Force caught her ribs, lifting her free of the ground and tossing her into the nearest wall.

She groaned as she slid to the floor.

Rane grinned over at her. “You had me there for a minute.”

She sighed. “You just had a moment of doubt in your abilities.”

He cocked his head. “So, why not capitalize on that? You have a deep bag of tricks. You didn’t use any.”

She kicked back up to her feet. “Crushing your confidence wouldn’t do anything good in the long run. I need my sparring partner in top form if I am to improve.”

He gave her a long, contemplative look. Finally, he nodded. “Alright, then.” Rane frowned. “Wait…where’s Flow?”

Tala grinned, pulling Flow from the floor at Rane’s back. As Rane’s inscriptions activated, throwing him into a forward flip to avoid the sword coming at his back, Tala stepped forward, reaching for his head.

As his head whipped towards her, she pulled her hand back, so that she was moving away from him, while he caught up with her palm.

Rane’s scripts threw him forward regardless, slamming his forehead into her retreating palm.

The impact reversed the direction of his movement, even though she moved with him, to soften the blow.

Once she had contact, she was able to twist around, taking him to the ground and pressing Flow, now in the shape of a knife, against his throat.

He groaned. “Ow.”

“You ok?”

“Yeah…Thank you for the soft landing.”

She grinned down at him. “Happy to assist.” She stepped back, offering him a hand up.

He took it, standing and stretching. “Again?”

She considered. Still feeling the tingles of existential dread, she nodded. “Again.”

* * *

Tala had fully calmed and cleared her head after a few more bouts. After she thanked him for the training, Rane bid her goodnight and headed back to his inn.

Alone, she was able to dive back into her fusing with a renewed gusto.

She was going to be facing a god the next day, and she wanted as much strength as she could muster.

Yes, I need as many snowflakes as possible before I visit the forge. Who knows? I might just cool it off. She did not let her focus fracture.

When she absolutely had to take a break, her magesight aching from straining inward, she switched to practice with the iron spheres.

Since she couldn’t easily turn off her magesight, only suppress it, Tala decided that forcefully turning it outward would help. Blessedly, it did seem to.

As she worked on her mental construct for marking her target, the paintbrush she imagined shrunk, as did the amount of magic she left on the target, allowing her to progress to the next balls up through the difficulties.

She marked and released the targets dozens of times per break.

As soon as she felt able, she would move back inside herself and crochet another step towards fusing. At most, she could do two stitches between periods of respite.

It was exhausting, deeply taxing work.

Ironically, the crocheting became a mental break as much as anything. Maybe, this is why some people stitch as a hobby.

Finally, hours after midnight, she found herself in need of a break from her internal magesight, but mentally not up for painting targets with her power. She’d been struggling to form the image of a paintbrush delicate enough to pierce the mesh of this second to last ball for the past few breaks.

Why can’t it just be marked? I have a near perfect mental picture of the rusting target. She pictured the infuriating wooden ball in all its inglorious roundness.

The wooden ball within the iron-mesh ball took on a slight glow to her magesight.

Tala blinked, glancing down at her left hand where her middle finger and thumb were pressed together.

But…I didn’t reach out to mark it…

It was true, there was no ‘mark’ of her magic on the small ball, the ball was simply targeted, no mark required.

I didn’t grab it. I couldn’t have, the mesh is too fine.

She picked up the iron ball with her right hand, the mesh so fine it could have served as bug-netting.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

And now, it’s just targeted.

She thought through the process. I indicate my target by pointing, grabbing it with magic, or marking it with a mental paintbrush.

Then what?

Then, I have to have an understanding of what I’m targeting. I connect that understanding to what I’ve indicated, and the target is locked on.

Why?

Why…what?

Why did she have to mark the target, or grab it, or indicate it, to target it?

If I don’t, how will the target lock?

She cocked her head to the side. No. I have an understanding of what I’m targeting. Why would I need anything else?

The click of a mentality change rushed through her mind, shifting her understanding yet again.

Blessedly, her mental ruts were not nearly as set as they had been surrounding other recent revelations, so she was only left with a mildly splitting headache.

“Ow…” She glared around at the empty training room, Terry sleeping in his corner. “Fine… I’ll sleep.”

As she moved over to where she wanted to open Kit for the night, she hesitated.

A small smile tugged at her lips. Might as well test.

She pulled out the last ball, a complete, hollow sphere of iron. She swirled the ball, feeling the wood move around inside.

A wooden sphere, the same as all the others.

“Mine.”

She felt her lock take hold, even though she couldn’t see it, even with her magesight, and no evidence of the power leaked out.

She laughed, spinning in a circle. “I did it. I did it! I DID IT!” She laughed again.

Terry lifted his head for a moment, gave a half-hearted congratulatory trill and laid back down.

Tala continued to laugh. A wide grin painted her face until a thought intruded into her mind like a shard of ice.

Her smile fell away, and her eyes widened, color draining from her face.