The Asterian Dream

VIII: Cold

The next morning found Conrad and Fasela standing opposite one another, each holding long tree branches smoothed out with a blade. Fasela appeared to be fully healed and was as dextrous as she ever was.

"Take your right palm, and grip the stick close to the notch in the base. Make sure to envelop most of the base." She then stretched out her palm for Conrad to see, and slowly took a strong grip on the stick.

Conrad did the same, then nodded. "And what about the left?" he asked.

Fasela stretched out her left palm. "Place your left hand at about four centimeters above your right." She then performed the motion. "This is a strong two-handed grip," she said.

Conrad repeated her action. Fasela then took a defensive stance, with the stick angled to the left and her feet dug firmly into the dirt. She motioned for Conrad to follow. He copied the pose, although it took him a few tries.

Fasela smiled. "Good, you have your basic form down. Now, parry these strikes."

She then descended upon him with a flurry of blows. Conrad tried to parry them to the side but only managed to block three before she struck him hard in the side of his ribcage. He stumbled back wheezing from the blow.

Fasela helped him steady his stance again. "Your form is still weak. We still have a lot of training to go through," she said.

Conrad assumed the defensive stance again. "Don't we need to get moving as soon as possible?" he asked.

"What's more important is that you need to be able to defend yourself. Greydor demonstrated that I can't always win, and that move you pulled with the dragon form cannot be repeated. If you do it again, you might go insane."

Conrad nodded, and Fasela struck at him again, this time a bit slower. He managed to block five blows, and finally parried her stick to the side and struck at her chest. She lept backward then congratulated him. "Good, you're improving. Again." With that, they immediately went back to blows.

It had been several days. Conrad and Fasela were on the road, traveling as quickly as they could. They hadn't seen any signs of civilization in all these days and had been relying on whatever food they could find, whether it be berries or small animals they could catch. The sky was clouded, and in the distance, thunder could be heard rumbling. The dirt of the road was damp with recent rainfall, and Conrad was constantly dodging large puddles. Fasela kept trudging forward in a straight line looking forward, seemingly paying no heed to the water she was passing through.

Conrad seemed to be deep in thought about something. Finally, after much time had passed, he turned to Fasela.

"Hey, I've got a question," he said.

"Mhm?"

"Don't you think you should be carrying this magic amulet with you? You seem to be the expert on this kind of stuff."

She shook her head. "Nay, you're the one who discovered it. It has come to you for a reason. What that reason is, I have no idea." She turned and muttered to herself, "there's no chance it chose him. This mantle has never passed to one who isn't a Dragonborn before."

"What was that?" Conrad asked.

"Oh, nothing, just talking to myself," she replied.

Conrad huffed in annoyance but said nothing. To distract from it, Fasela asked him a question.

"I still don't know much about you," she said. "Mind telling me some about your life?"

Conrad stayed silent for a bit, thinking about something. He then spoke up.