Paragon - Book I

A Proposition

"Sorry?" Allayria says, staring down at the bag and then back up at him.

"Let's spar," he clarifies, setting his knife and coat on top of the bag. "Just for a couple of minutes."

Meg, catching what Ben is doing, tosses her bag to the ground and sits on it.

"Just do it," she says. "We'll never hear the end of it if you don't."

Iaves plops down on the ground too and pulls out an apple.

Allayria looks at the three of them.

"Alright," she says, and she lets her pack slide off her shoulder and just stands there, feeling like an idiot.

"The objective is to make the other person fall without directly hitting them," Ben says, rolling his sleeves up. "You can call, but don't shoot that fire at me directly. Got it?"

"Got it," she says and then, feeling like she ought to be doing something, she turns slightly to the side and curls her hands into fists.

Meg counts down, and then he's running straight at her, head tucked down. She jumps to the side and shoots a burst of fire past his right ear but he ducks and swings a fist across the front of her face.

She stumbles back and pulls the metal clasps off his belt, tearing them up and then fanning them out into a large, shining plate. He jerks back, tripping, but catches himself and swings a foot around, kicking a spray of orange dirt into Allayria's eyes.

She staggers, coughing, and when she has wiped the earth from her eyes she sees a fist coming straight for her face and falls promptly on her butt.

Someone claps and she winces, rubbing off more of the dirt while she broods.

I nearly had him with that damn shield.

Ben extends a hand to her, and she allows him to pull her up.

"That was good," he beams. "That trick with the metal... You Skill extraordinarily fast."

"Not fast enough, it seems," she mumbles, shaking her head so an orange cloud puffs out around her. "I still lost."

"Of course you lost," he says nonchalantly. "I've played the game before."

She's still sulking when they pack up and continue down the road, but then Iaves slips her another cheese cube, and she brightens considerably.

"I know you're thinking to heading off soon," Ben says suddenly, and the other two look around. "But I have a proposition."

"Yeah?" she says, taking a swig of water.

"Come with us to Roften," he says. "In return, we'll teach you how to fight. You're fast and intuitive, which puts you ahead of most assailants, but you lack formal training. I'm no Smith-caller, but I know their style and we," he gestures to the other two, "know the other Skills' styles too. We can show you what to look out for, how to anticipate what your enemy will do."

She stares at them a long moment. While she's uncertain about lingering with these strangers on their strange route and with their finely-made weapons, the offer to teach her how to fight is a valuable one.

And I can perhaps pick up some tricks for Nature and Beast-calling by watching the other two.

She looks out at the mountains and shrugs.

"Sure, why not," she answers. "Roften's nice this time of year."

Allayria finds with some surprise that she travels faster with the trio, and when they pass through villages, their yield is greater.