Two Masters (epic progression fantasy)

Chapter 11: The Great Sea

Revin lost his meal over the side of the boat for what must have been the seventh time. The broad ocean, which had once been so alluring, just made him sick. He was often cold, wet, and due to his constantly emptying bowels, hungry.

Revin caught Ismander up on the last fifteen years on the Hiriv island. Revin was barely three when Ismander and some other monks had left. She'd been friends with Revin's father and refused to talk about what had happened or why they had left.

"At least tell me what happened to the other monks, the ones my father mentioned?"

Ismander frowned, "We went our separate ways. Once we thought Narazoth was dealt with. Beadoróf went north, as you heard. The others went south and west."

South? What's to the south? "Will we find Beadoróf in Ateya?"

Ismander shrugged. "Perhaps. Last we spoke, he was planning on allying with General Omrai Speartip of Ateya. But that was before the Volisnans fell."

Her gaze was pulled to the ocean, Revin couldn't look at it for long without getting sick.

"Have you tried contacting the others?" Revin said.

Ismander laughed. "You really have no idea how large the world is, do you?"

It was Revin's turn to shrug. "Honestly, not a lot of monks go out to find Lords anymore."

"That tradition was decreasing even when I was on the Hiriv," Ismander said.

"Why don't more monks go out?" Revin said. "Why wouldn't they? Especially when they could control more beasts?"

Ismander narrowed her eyes in thought, steadying the rudder. "Comfort. The Hiriv island has everything they need. If they've never known greater, why seek it?"

Revin cocked his head. "It doesn't make sense."

Ismander laughed. "That's because you have drive, Revin. That's too tiring for most folks."

They were quiet for a time, Ismander watching the sky, eyes narrowed.

"You're new to the wide world, like I once was," Ismander said. "If you are going to survive, you must learn two things. First, is how to master the saurians, your little wolf won't be enough. Second, you must learn to use a sword."

Ismander jumped forward and before Revin could react, she had a sword pointed at Revin's face. "Whoa!" Revin said, scooting back. His body still ached and begged for sleep. Blackfire sensed Revin's fear and growled at Ismander.

"Tell your wolf to back off. Get up," Ismander said firmly, her lips set in a thin line.

Revin complied, telling Blackfire to stand down. He stumbled to his feet. The cold had already drawn away so much of his energy. He wanted to do nothing more than sleep.

Ismander held a second sword toward Revin, still sheathed. It was the sword he'd taken from his father. He gave her a look that he hoped communicated how exhausted he felt.

"We're practicing now," she said.

"Can't we do this when we get to land?" Revin begged.

Ismander leaped toward him. Revin didn't have time to do more than flinch. Ismander touched the back of Revin's neck with the flat of her blade, his own sword, still sheathed, was pressed against his stomach. Blackfire sensed his panic and had stepped forward, growling at Ismander.

"Narazoth won't wait," Ismander said. She stepped back a few paces. Flipping Revin's father's sword to extend the handle to Revin.

Revin tried the most forlorn face he could muster, but Ismander tossed him the sword anyway. Revin fumbled at it, almost dropping it. He removed the sheath. Looking at the dark gray blade. "I don't have a clue what I'm doing."