Narcissa awoke to find a hand shaking her shoulder. She pulled herself to one side, shielding herself with the covers. Her hair falls over her shoulders. She must have looked ravishing in the morning light coming from the sun sphere on her wall. She saw Alkela looking down at her through bleary eyes, dressed for battle and travel. Narcissa sighed.
"Give me five more minutes, Alkela."
Alkela shook her again. Narcissa threw the covers at her and stood up. Alkela had never been one to let someone sleep in or rest easy; she'd always slept first watch on the streets.
"Fine, fine. I'm up already." She opened the window and peered out into the morning light. The black stone sundial said that mass would be in two hours.
With a sigh, Narcissa began to dress appropriately. First, she chose some of the more modest garments available. A pair of black pants that clung to her lower legs and a tight shirt that bared her midriff. She supposed she should wear something skimpier when going to mass but screw it.
They eat breakfast in silence. From there, Narcissa made her way to the armory. She drew the giant axe off the wall and entered the courtyard to train. Alkela did the same with her spiked gauntlets.
"Why do you like those gauntlets so much?" asked Narcissa, spinning the axe and practicing her stance. "It isn't as though they have any reach."
Alkela said nothing, of course.
The training they had gone through over the past two years had seemed easy, even when worked to the bone. However, Narcissa was already moving up to greater levels of proficiency. She remembered techniques she had already learned rather than learning them from scratch. Everything clicked into place quickly.
Illaryus said that they must have been warriors in another life. Narcissa wondered about that. Was it another life? Supposedly, the memories of previous lives helped you later on. Affected you from beyond your grave.
Today, Narcissa swung her blade quickly, trying the more progressive stances. And then she accidentally swung near a wall. The axe's edge crashed against the wall and was jarred from her hands. A giant crack appeared in the wall, and some stones fell.
Narcissa flinched and quickly picked up the axe. She was afraid the wall would fall in entirely like last time. Fortunately, she's managed to pull back at the last minute. Unfortunately, Illaryus entered the courtyard, clapping.
"Well, that will have the stonemasons working tonight," said Illaryus. "I have told you to be careful when wielding those."
"I'm sorry, Master Illaryus," said Narcissa. "I'm just... distracted, is all."
"About what?" asked Illaryus.
"These powers..." said Narcissa, feeling a bit awkward. How did someone as ugly as Ilaryus survive in Zigilus anyway? He didn't seem like anyone's type. It was pure combat skill. "I've sparred against many of the other Bloodlusters and beaten them. I'm killed raishans by the dozens, and it all comes so quickly.
"But I've only been doing this for six months. This seems like something more than just a memory from a past life. I remember the lessons on anatomy. My muscles shouldn't have adapted so quickly."
"It probably is something more," admitted Illaryus. "There is a demonic will working through you both. Ensuring your body and spirit become what you need to be far more quickly than is typical.
"When a power, demonic or otherwise, puts that kind of effort in, it is for a purpose."
"What kind of purpose?" asked Narcissa.
"Perhaps they wish you to be in a state where you are ready for some great task," said Illaryus. "Or perhaps you are acting as a vessel."
"A vessel?" asked Narcissa. "What do you mean?"
YOU ARE READING
The Spirit of Wrath
AksiAbdul Sahshir is a boy of contradictions. He is more skilled with the sword than any other his age, and yet he goes everyone with his entire body hidden. Sahshir is a Prince of Western Kalthak, yet he must flee his domain for fear of his uncle. Sahs...
