Freya's release

The apprentices were gathering, some casting sour glances at the unusually early sun overhead. The temple roof was completely exposed to the elements, but no matter how hot, sweaty and miserable the students got, they knew the drills and challenges would not be cancelled. "A little rain and sunshine is nothing to a Warrior," Lord Luschek was fond of saying.

Tyson found his place amid the throng in preparation for the group drills.

As the drills dragged on, perspiration poured freely from Tyson's forehead as he put his body through its paces. It was a week before he planned to challenge Shotan but he still felt that he wasn't yet ready. An adrenaline surge caused a burst of energy that he used to complete another drill as Maester Ben-Gessirit watched but it was short-lived.

He performed his drills again and again until his muscles began to groan.

After only an hour he was breathing hard and the adrenaline that pushed him forward had run out. The strain of training in the morning and sparring with Lord Luschek at night had begun to take its toll. He decided to cut training short and get some much-needed rest.

Tyson felt completely exhausted as he descended the stairs of the temple. All he wanted was to get back to his bunk in the dormitories and sleep. The adrenaline had drained out of him, leaving him hyperaware of the stiffness and soreness of his body. He slumped down in his seat and gazed around the interior of his room. Normally there would've been almost a dozen other people crammed into the room or his dormitory but they were all still on the temple roof perfecting their form.

Tyson figured that he could be alone here for a few hours. No noise. No distractions. Fully dressed, he collapsed into a heap.

A few moments later, he stood. Fully awake. He hardly slept at all. It seemed his body no longer needed sleep; it fed on his growing command of magic. His body energized and his mind invigorated.

He ran back to the roof to rejoin the rest of the apprentices.

***

At night on the temple roof, Tyson broke off from his attack and spun away to regroup. He had sensed his attacks slipping into an unconscious pattern, and predictability was death against an opponent as skilled as Lord Luschek. He had fallen into that trap once the previous week. He wasn't about to make the mistake twice.

The two combatants faced each other once again, motionless save for their eyes, which flicked and darted in search of any sign they could use to gain some slight advantage.

Over the past month, their training sessions had become less frequent but far more intense. Part of Tyson believed Lord Luschek actually found value in sparring against him: the Blademaester had to grow bored after the war ended and his work at the academy precluded him from really going toe to toe with anyone while placing his life on the line. The other Maesters refused to spar with him for fear of losing. He resented their ego and thought that it held them back from true greatness in the sword arts.

Of course, Tyson had yet to land a telling blow against his Master. But each time they sparred he felt as if he was getting closer and closer to a victory. Lord Luschek's form and technique were flawless, but Tyson was aware that the slightest miscue was all the opening he needed.

Both fighters were breathing hard; the session had gone far longer than any before it. Their battles typically ended when the Blademaester landed a scoring blow, disabling one of his student's limbs with the burning kissing bug venom. On this night, however, Lord Luschek had yet to land such a blow.

The Blademaester charged forward, and the clang and clash of their weapons rang out over the rooftop in a sharp staccato rhythm. They stood toe-to-toe, hammering away at each other, neither giving ground or quarter. Ultimately, it was Lord Luschek that ended the exchange which was unusual for him.

"You have learned well, my young apprentice. You are ready to face Shotan. You will challenge him after the group session tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, master... for everything."

Tyson bowed with his right hand cupping his left knuckle. A sign of respect.

"Thank me by seeking justice for your friend and administering justice on that cocky Orc. There's nothing purer or more noble than a victory in a clash of blades especially if it's done for a righteous cause."

***

Trevor was floating... weightless... with only darkness and silence as his companions. He felt like he was adrift in a black void between life and death.

He could feel the loving presence of his mother at his side. She died when he was younger but he could feel her watching over him like she was in the room with him.

He replayed the events that had nearly destroyed him and he realized that he had been manipulated by Tyson. His arrogance left him vulnerable to his influence but if the gods saved him from death he swore that he would have his revenge on Tyson and that damned Orc; Shotan.

Consciousness began to return to his body... he was forcefully jerked away from blissful unawareness to reality...

His eyes opened and the first thing he saw was a woman with piercing blue eyes and golden bangs. She gently held his hands and urged him to return to her. He knew it was his mother's spirit.

Hie heart began to pound and he could hear the blood rushing inside his ears but when his eyes popped open, only Clarissa was there. He was disappointed not to see his dead mother but relieved that he himself had not died. Somehow he just knew that she had been by his side throughout. Her presence kept him from giving up. He felt guilty because he had never said anything nice to her. In fact, the last thing he remembered saying to her was that her hair was the colour of mud and that she would die alone.

Memories of motion and pain flickered across his mind. The last thing he remembered was the sight, smell and sound of combat. Since coming to the Academy, he had only one goal; to become a great swordsman but he was quickly met with the reality of his life. Long before his duel with Shotan, he had been painfully aware of the gulf of ability between himself and the top of the class. He could not hold a candle to them in terms of ability. In the end, his defeat at the hands of Shotan may prove to be a welcome respite. Now he could withdraw from learning sword art without the pain of disappointing his father once again. He would find something else to be great at.