Sword and a Test

"Again."

"Graaaagh!" Lucius swung at his father. A year ago, he would attack wildly and recklessly. However, nowadays, he learned to conserve his energy between attacks, so he always had stamina left to block, parry, or…run.

In fact, that is most of what his father has been teaching him and training him with. Every single day he was tasked with starting training by running ten miles and then another ten miles after training.

Most of the time, Lucius passed out or vomited from the effort before being able to finish after training. When that happened, Wayne would simply carry him back home and put him to bed to recover before dinner.

However, after a year, Lucius started to be able to finish the running portion of his training. He was in his second week of completing the run after training without issue, in fact.

Due to the training style's focus on running, dodging, and parrying attacks, Lucius started to develop light musculature at a young age.

At this point, his body was not too different from that of some athletes who competed in the games at the capital. Lucius was worried that his frame did not resemble a warrior like his father's and felt concerned that this would hinder his future ability with the sword.

"Do not worry about it, son. You have no Compatibility with the sword. I am teaching you enough to survive and flee. Not survive and fight. If I teach you too much now, it might ruin the training you need with any weapons you might have Compatibility for in the future."

"Yes, Father…"

He knew that his father was right. He only needed the basics of the sword to run away. Even if he were a master, an entry-level Novice Sword Arts user would be able to kill him easily in a full-on fight. 

Unfortunately, Lucius could not find out if he had any Weapon Arts Compatibilities since none of his father's men had been willing to train with him.

Lucius could not figure out on his own without someone to guide him, and there were so many different kinds of Weapon Arts that it would be impossible to simply discover them. You typically found out such things with weapons through training or a life-or-death scenario.

Sometimes, these Compatibilities and knowledge of them are gifted by the many gods that govern in the heavenly realm above, Celestia. However, that does not happen frequently.

Lucius also knew that if he claimed any sudden 'revelations from the gods' came to him, then he would be executed on the spot. Marked Ones were not allowed to hear the 'blessed word' of the gods, so the only other alternative was the whisper of the devils of the Abyss.

"Father…" Lucius began with a measured tone. "Do you think I actually have a chance?"

Wayne paused momentarily. "As you are now? Maybe."

"And if I keep working at my current pace?"

"Then most likely."

"But it isn't certain?"

"Nothing is ever certain. Other than the fact that one day we all die. We will never know when or how until the time itself comes."

"Never? But what about the Oracle? Doesn't she know?" Lucius had heard of this person the other day while gathering supplies in town with his mother. Apparently, there was a Marked One in the kingdom that was somewhat respected.

She was the Oracle and possessed the Mark of Prophecy. When Lucius heard that because her mark was so necessary to the kingdom, she was treated well, he felt envious. His own mark was unknown. His father and mother tried asking some of the scholars who visited the Lord's manor, but none had seen it before.

Lucius had these thoughts while his father processed his question. "I would say that no, the Oracle doesn't really know for sure either. After all, the reason she exists is so she can prevent tragedy. To change the future she saw. So in that respect, she won't know the alternative until we make it happen for her."

Lucius thought for a moment as his father's words seemed to make sense in a way.

"That's enough chatter. Training is done. Run fifteen miles."

"What?! Fifteen?"

"You've adapted finally to the ten. So we are increasing it. Fifteen before training, fifteen after. Go. You might be done by dinner."

Lucius groaned and sheathed his sword. His father made him run with his equipment so he could be used to the load when he was in the forest. 'Dammit…I shouldn't have been so proud of being able to do the two sets of ten…' He thought to himself.

****

A young girl, no more than eight or nine years old, was doubled over from exhaustion in a large square room. There was only one entrance, with a staircase heading upwards. The walls of the room were lined with padding, and the floor was made of stone.

This was the basement training room within the Petra Manor. It was specifically designed for use by the Petra family members and their personal guards.

Standing in front of her diminutive frame was one of the lord's guards. Different guards had come in to train her in various different weapon arts in the hopes she had a Compatibility, but after today, they had exhausted all of their options.

There were a handful of other Arts that she could have been Compatible with; however, she and her father would rather consider her incapable of Weapon Arts than use those.

One such family of Arts was the Forsaken Arts, a series of skills that specialized in using weapons deemed dishonorable for use by a true warrior. Only vagabonds used those, and even then, many of the skills were too much for them to use.

"Lady Petra…I think we should consider training complete for the day. I am sorry. I heard your last chance was my Spear Arts…" The man apologized and bowed deeply in front of the girl.

"It…is…no…matter…" She answered between ragged breaths.

Another figure approached them from the stairway on the opposite side of the room. It was another of the Petra family, a young boy with red-orange hair and green eyes. He was a year or two older than the young lady.

Beside him was his father, the young lady's uncle. He shared the family traits of the Petra family, but unlike her own father, her uncle was much skinnier and leaner.

"Lady Rena von Petra, I, Simon von Petra, greet you." The boy grinned. "I see you have been unable to find your Art. That is unfortunate. Maybe you instead possess skills in magic."

"Maybe so, Simon," Rena said coldly. "Where is your brother Thomas?"

"Training, of course. He cannot very well fail to pass his trial next year after I passed mine." Simon laughed.

Rena scowled. It was no secret among the family that some members of their branches had secretly taught their children magic before partaking in the trial. Rena viewed this behavior as cowardly.

It was a long tradition that even those who only possessed Compatibility for magic had to survive without it during the trial. As such, Rena's father forbade her from learning magic so that they may follow tradition.

"Coward…" Rena mumbled.

Simon, who did not hear her, continued to chuckle as he turned to leave. "I apologize, but we must take our leave. I simply wanted to take the time to see if you had any luck with your last chance…but alas, it seems not. I do hope that the main branch does not lose its only heir in next year's trial."

Rena's grip tightened to the point her nails began to draw blood. Her cousins infuriated her. They picked on her her entire childhood simply because she was smaller than them and a girl.

Many branch families believed that because Rena was a girl, she would make a poor heir to the Petra domain. It was difficult to convince reputable noble families to allow their sons to marry into a family and take their name after the woman's side.

As such, they believed that this weakened the family's position in the kingdom's political future. Rena's father held no such opinion. For him, the strong led the family, and there was no exception to that.

Rena had no doubt that he would require some great task outside of surviving the trial for her cousins to inherit the domain since he also knew they were cheating in the trials. Her father had no time to give those who were weak.

This was why Rena was so adamant about trying every possible Weapon Art, at least among the accepted ones. She set her training schedule and ordered various guards to assist in her training.

All of the guards were happy to comply, hoping that their Arts would match Rena's. If they were to become her personal tutor, then they would be set for life both in money and honor. One guard, however, declined her invitation.

This was none other than their strongest warrior, Wayne. He was a Master Rank Swordsman with Sword Arts and Shield Arts for weapon and defensive skills. He declined saying he was busy teaching his own son how to survive. Rena thought about asking her father to force Wayne's compliance, but he would never have listened to her because Rena was being tested long before the actual trial began.