Chapter Forty-One

That night Cierra went to bed thinking of Fer Benn and his world. She wanted the training he offered more now than anything else. Exercising in the real world and training in the dream realms were the only things that offered her peace of mind.

Ever since she was little, running had cleared her mind, something she had always appreciated. She wanted that now more than ever.

"Ya made id," Fer Benn's voice called out to her, "I was dinkin' ya mighta run off."

She had brought herself to the castle, the large tree carving etched into the stone in front of her. She made a mental note to ask why that symbol was on everything. Fer Benn stood in his younger form, body wrapped in muscles, club held at his side.

Cierra forced a greeting that suggested she was happier than she truly was. A crow nearby cawed as if mocking her.

"I'm here for that weapons training you promised," To her left a crow flew out from a tree. Cierra looked at it puzzled. There had been a crow when she first arrived here as well. "Is the crow yours?"

"We'll start wid da sword since ya already ha' one," He started walking, leading her out to an even plot of land next to the castle, ignoring her question about the crow, "Go 'head an' summon id."

Cierra concentrated on the Damascus steel and called it to her. It was quick today, all she had to do was think of the sword and it appeared.

"Good, yer fast," He said, acknowledging her achievement, "Keep practicin' between spars."

"Spars?" Cierra looked around for a barrel or something that she could practice strikes on, "I thought it was practice?"

"Id is," He smiled and pulled a sword Ciera hadn't noticed from his belt, "Id's practice fer battle."

He lunged at her, sword raised. It was all she could do to step back in time and hold her blade up to stop his.

"Hold on tah yer sword wit' both hands," Fer Benn said stepping back as Cierra's sword fell from her hands, "Da moment id's gone, yer dead."

Blood rushed to Cierra's cheeks; it seemed so basic to know that she had to keep a firm grip on the sword.

Summoning the sword back to her, she fixed her grip so both hands were on the hilt.

The second she was in position, Fer Benn attacked.

When they finally stopped, Cierra collapsed onto the ground, panting. All of her muscled burned in protest. She was shocked; she exercised every day and still combat training in a dream could wear her out. Still, she liked the feeling of her muscles being overworked.

"Les go in," Fer Benn said, already walking towards the castle.

Cierra looked after him, "You could at least help me up," She mumbled to herself, using the last of her energy to try and pick herself up off the ground.

Behind her, the crow cawed and beats its wings. Cierra shot the crow a dirty look. It felt more and more like the bird was simply there to mock her. For some time, it had been walking around them, as if observing their training from different angles. Whenever Cierra clearly lost, sword thrown from her hands, or her opponent's knife was pressed to her throat, the crow would make a sound as if cackling.

By the time Cierra caught up with Fer Benn, he was sitting at the table, the rejuvenating amber liquid from before in front of him.

"Drink," He said, gesturing at the seat opposite him, "We ha' a lot more tah get done today."

Cierra was more than happy to take a seat opposite her mentor. Despite the hard blows he had dealt her just a few moments ago, she felt grateful for his tutelage. Every strike meant learning something new that would one day save her or her comrades. She nursed the drink, trying to enjoy the warmth it brought her while restoring her strength.

"I dink ya need an arsenal," Fer Benn said, eyeing her, "We need tah ge' ya a shield an' a few other weapons. Some armor too. Keep ya from bein' too squishy on da battlefield."

She looked up at him, surprised. Her power did lend itself well to holding weapons, and she liked the idea of getting some protective gear. There was just one obvious problem.

"But," She started, "I can only summon weapons from this world, and it's not like I have a weapon's pile I can sort through to start collecting."

"Yer gonna hafta get 'em yerself," Fer Benn said, nodding, "The golden one, yer lot call Goldie," He put emphasis on the name, as if he too found it funny, "Came by an' 'ave ya leave to go weapon hunting."

Cierra raised an eyebrow, surprised, "You mean we'll be like treasure hunters, searching for weapons across the dream realms together?"

Fer Benn looked at her in disbelief before laughing, hands on his belly.

"Oh Gods no," He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye, "I can' leave here. I'm a shadow of wha' I used tah be. I couldn't help ya even if I wanted tah. I don't know wha' Goldie told ya, bu' a god as old as me is barely a god at all anymore. People read my stories an' talk abou' me sometimes, bu' my glory days are ova. I may no' even be here in a few more centuries."

"You lose power over time?," Cierra asked, confused.

"Some o' us. Most o' us, most likely," He paused, "Unless o' course they fin' a way to preserve deir power."

"Bu—" Cierra started to ask, only to be cut off.

"Now, I can' answer yer questions all day," Fer Benn said sternly, "Let's finish up and ge' back to it. I'll sen' ya off for weapons a bi' lader."

She gulped nervously. She wasn't sure she wanted to go out weapons hunting on her own yet.

He looked over her worried expression. "Don't ya worry, yer gonna finish sword trainin' first."

"I thought," She started, remembering something Goldie had said, "That Goldie said we couldn't go anywhere else while training?"

Fer Benn sat back, thinking for a bit. "Could be dat she wanted tah keep ya from takin' risks. Safest to train an' go."

Cierra rolled the thought over in her mind. Was that really all there was to it?