Training

The next day after his lunch, Eres made his way through the house towards the training hall. He rarely came this way, so Freya was leading him through the winding halls, away from the wing he slept and studied in, through the central house where most of the rooms were and out across the gardens towards the Guards Barracks. There was a separate training hall used by the Baron and the Heir, Illyon, of course, but Eres knew that was an area he wasn't welcome, and had asked the servants to lead his teacher to the guardsmans grounds instead.

The so-called training hall was more of an open-air courtyard, surrounded by resting areas, racks of training weapons and sparring targets. The Hytheiem Barony housed some 200 soldiers, and many of them would come here to train. Only 40 of the soldiers were employed as guards in the household and surrounding estate, but each and every member was allowed to train here if they wished and even required to do so in some cases. Today however, only a pair of older soldiers were sparring on the far side of the courtyard, coats and shirts thrown down near the rest area as toughened oak longswords clashed against each other, the sound of wood on wood reverberating around the walls.

As Eres and Freya entered through the thin wooden doors, the sounds of clashing wood paused for a moment as each veteran cast their eyes over the new arrivals, sizing them up. Freya was glancing around taking everything in, but Eres fixed his eyes on the training men. He made eye contact with them one after the other and gave a small nod and a smile before going back to looking at the courtyard, and both of the men's eyes widened in shock. Looking at this young whelp coming in with a maid, they assumed he was perhaps a visiting lord's son taking a tour, but the deep blue eyes of the Baron stared back at them.

Was this young man the Baron's second son? the men thought, This young boy who could meet our eyes with respect and humility in his greeting, but not an ounce of fear? How could a useless child never trained as an heir manage such a feat? 

Continuing across the courtyard, unaware of the confusion he had inflicted on the sparring warriors, Eres settled down on the far side of the dirt-covered ground, keeping an eye out for this teacher who was supposed to be arriving soon. He knew that the teacher had to greet the head of the house on this occasion, so decided to start stretching his muscles once again while waiting.

He had worn simple clothes today, soft grey woollen trousers and comfortable outdoor slippers with a loose-fitted white shirt. It wasn't as comfortable as some of the clothing he remembered from Adrien's world, but there was no issue with his mobility, and as he struggled to touch his toes and drop into lunges, he never felt that the clothes were restraining him.

Once he had moved through his routine he bobbed up to his feet and looked around for Freya, only to be shocked by the presence of an older man standing off to his left. The man was tall, nearly six feet by Eres' reckoning. He had short-cropped white hair and piercing green eyes so pale they reminded him of the underside of a leaf. He was broad across the shoulders, and the simple dark shirt he wore didn't hide the cording muscles in his forearms. A wide leather belt wrapped around his waist, and hanging from it were two blades, one long and curved and the other shorter, but straight. The dark trousers tucked into worn travelling boots and everything about the man looked just like someone who fought for a living.

Eres was startled by the man's presence, and even more startled by the sudden harshness of the voice that dragged its way out of the man's mouth as if dragging across gravel.

"Now just what is it that you think you are doing, Boy?" the man spat. His voice was slow and precise, and he drew out his vowels in a way that Eres was unfamiliar with.

"You must be my new teacher. My apologies, I was just stretching before our lesson," Eres did his best to speak loud and clear, but his voice still shook at the man's sudden hostility.

"I see that. Who did you learn to do it from?"

"I think I saw some of the men doing it, Sir. Was I doing it wrong?"

Well, it isn't like I can tell him I remember it from a previous life, so let's hope this lie covers it, Eres thought, as the man stared at him for nearly a minute.

"No, you were doing it right. I was hired to train a newbie, and I just needed to make sure you didn't have someone else training you on the side. I need to know if I am going to have to train out bad habits," the older man said, his voice still low and gruff, but no longer quite so harsh, "You can call me Brom. Master Brom if you are fancy, but I prefer the former. So, no one else is training you, right kid?"

"No Master Brom, no other training. I have been studying magic on my own, but nothing physical at least."

Brom narrowed his eyes and looked at Eres before letting out a short bark of laughter.

"I thought you only recently turned 10, but you already have a Magic Core? Guess that removes one hurdle at least..." Brom let out a sigh as he took a pace towards the edge of the courtyard, pulled a pipe from a small pouch at his waist and began packing it with tobacco.

"Don't worry about your young maid, I sent her back to the house. Can't have her complaining if I push you too hard or speak to you wrong," Brom spoke slowly as he clamped his teeth around the pipe stem and began lighting it with a small metal lighter, "I am going to come right out and say it, but I'm not great and being polite and I will train you hard. I heard from your mother that shouldn't be a problem, but if it is tell me now and we can save both of us some trouble."

"I asked for someone proficient in magic and combat because I wanted to train, Master Brom, not because I wanted to pander to some idea of what I should be doing," Eres struggled to keep his voice level once again, but now instead of the shake of surprise, it held an icy touch of anger, "not to mention if you met with my Father before you came here you know my station in this household. You need not be polite to me and I would prefer it if we spoke plainly. So, does that satisfy your requirements?"

Brom stared at the young boy's face as he puffed on the pipe. Not the arrogance of born nobility, but anger at being underestimated perhaps? he thought This might just be fun after all. 

"Alright, consider me satisfied. Let's get on with the proper introductions," Brom barked, "I'm your new teacher, a member of the Adventurers Guild and a Battle Mage. You know what that means?"

"It means you are either possessing the Battle Mage blessing or that you are as talented in combat as you are magic," Eres spoke slowly as if struggling to recall the information, "However I expect it is the latter. An adventurer would be unlikely to reveal their blessing, as that information contains their strengths and weaknesses, and no matter how lacking the opponent you face, your Blessing is information to keep close."

"Ha, good. At least you have a head on your soldiers. My Blessing is my own business, you just need to know I can teach you magic and combat to a level beyond your average teacher."

"Then I will be looking forward to your teachings," Eres grinned as he gave a small but exaggerated bow, "As you know I am your new pupil, Eres von Hytheiem, the unwanted third child of the Hytheiem barony. My blessing is also my own business, but it is of the Mind category, if that helps you in teaching me."

Brom chuckled at the audacity of the announcement that he was unwanted.

What unwanted child has a high-ranking adventurer hired as their teacher? Bah, the secrecy that witch wanted isn't my style, but she's the customer.

"Alright, I can see you have a Magic Core which means you can manipulate mana, so we will leave magic for later. You can keep studying on your own, but for the first few months, your lessons with me will focus on physical combat. Do you have any experience with weapons?"

"Only in watching the Guards." Eres answered honestly, eyes darting to the pair of blades on the older man's belt.

"Oh, these?" chuckled Brom, catching the glance, "A duelling pair from my home country, down south. Lots of sailors down that way so lighter blades are prioritised. The long curved blade is used for slashing and slicing, and the shorter dagger for parrying and stabbing. A hard weapon to learn, but all the more versatile for it.

That is putting the cart before the horse though. We will see how your style shapes up first, and then decide what weapon will fit you. For now, we are going to see how your body holds up."

With that simple statement, Eres' two hours of hell began. He ran laps around the courtyard until his lungs burned, leapt from one point to another at Brom's direction, and did push-ups and squats until his limbs felt like jelly. He needed frequent breaks due to his body's weakness, but he never stopped pushing himself. He may have been a noble who spent most of his life inside, but ten-year-old boys are want to explore and he had spent his fair share of time running from room to room in his wing of the manor, imagining he was playing with his older brother, and sometimes truly playing with his sister.

While it had been some months since he had engaged in these games, they left him in surprisingly good stead for Brom's gruelling tests. He recovered quickly with the breaks he took and dived right back into the task at hand or the next exercise, and after two hours of broken-up exercise, he led on the hard-packed dirt, staring into the clear blue sky and panting as he tried to remind his lungs how to breathe.

"Well, that will do for now kid," Brom spoke from his perch next to the wall, glancing at the spread-eagled boy on the floor, "Make sure you bathe that sweat off and eat some meat tonight. No healing magic until tomorrow's lesson though, if your muscles hurt then just bear with it."

Eres couldn't muster a reply and instead staggered to his feet and with a wave of his hand wandered off towards the house, searching for food and water to replenish his body.

Brom watched him go with a smirk. The kid was good. His fitness was impressive for his age, but it was his fortitude that Brom had been testing. Nearly two hours of harsh training that would have made a young man grind his teeth in frustration. And yet the young boy had not only attempted every task until his body failed him, he had not complained even once.

Oh, he had complained and swore when his arms failed him mid-pushup and his face had struck the dirt, or when he tripped over running tired, but never once had he asked to give up or stop. He had asked for short breaks and then continued on with a fiery determination that Brom wasn't sure most soldiers had in them.

He tapped his pipe out into the dirt and stepped on the ashes as he began to slowly fade from visibility. This damn brat... looks like I am going to have to put some effort into making him stronger, he thought as he coated his body in a thin layer of Mana, I reckon this one won't disappoint me.