Henry. Just. Henry.

Chapter 17|A Confused Truth

Henry was never a fighter. He could have been in his high school days, but was smart enough to choose his battles. None of them being physical.

Yet here he was a week later, learning how to use a sword, of all things. No basic boxing training? Who was he preparing for, a king from the 17th century?

He trained in the citadel, the forest, and even the castle. They prepared him for a fight anywhere and taught how he should use his surroundings to his advantage.

"Don't think of objects around you as an obstacle." Desman said, clashing his sword with Henry's.

He pushed him further through the palace court room rowed with pews, two grand chandeliers, wall lamps and a podium.

"Think of them as an extra weapon. You can pull the rug from under me, swing from the lamps or use the pews as shields."

Sword combat exhausted Henry, but it was political classes lulling him to sleep every time. He needed a distracting way to pay attention and bought a fidget toy, but even that hypnotic plastic cube put him to sleep.

Zaire and Favian taught him within the hour they got every day. Though they struggled, he learned some things, like what a Regent was: the stand-in ruler until the King and Queen took the throne.

"Or King and King." Henry said.

"Pardon?" Zaire said, facing Henry and the garden behind him.

"I have a choice to marry either the princess or the prince, right?"

"Ah, correct!"

The one topic fascinating him was the history of Rion. The several late rulers, the stone beneath the palace and its history, and Rion's role in the country of Uldine: The strength.

Training and supplying the country with the best warriors there are.

Chakram training was the most fascinating Henry endured. His interest in magic even persuaded him to enjoy it.

He committed to memory the names of the four: the ice charkam, Wivoza. The lightning chakram, Hima. Lava, Portami and Floral, Atielle. He took for granted how gentle nature was, and didn't take his training with Atielle seriously. But, on the contray, Atielle was the most difficult to control and use.

Hima produced sparks of lightning. Portami, he thought, was the most dangerous, conjured viscous red and black lava from the Earth. Henry had played with Wivoza, creating ice sculptures in his training, and ice men in his... free time.

But all Henry got to do with Atielle was grow a flower.

"Oh come on! Not even a plant or a tree? A fucking flower?"

"Calm down." Abayomi said, sitting on a rock in the forest.

"I've been at this for days now! The rest of 'em did wonders, so I don't get what's wrong with Atielle."

"That is true." Abayomi stroked his beard. "The floral Chakram can do much more than just produce a flower. Maybe you're approaching it wrong." He stood. "Change of plan."

Absence made the heart grow fonder as they say, and the harder he trained, the more he was away from his bed. It was as if he was in the sky, resting on a cloud of comfort.

Cedric often materialized to listen to him ramble about his day. He laughed at most of the comments Henry made about his political classes and they shared some of the same views on certain systems.

Almost every time their conversations were cut short when Ezra knocked and entered the room. He visited Henry a lot after that day of breakfast in bed and his room became their hang out spot.