Training

He was woken up by knock on his door.

"The cantine will only have breakfast for another half an hour. Hurry up!"

The was voice rough and had a strange accent.

Vincent hurried and changed his dirty and long worn out fur clothes to a fresh loincloth, pants and tunic made out of line.

A simple belt fastened it. The outfit hung loose around his spindel body, it was a lot more open in comparison to the northern clothes. A change he appreciated, as he was sick of the itchy wool.

He would be even more happy about modern plain trousers and shirt. But when in Rome do as the Roman do.

~

He was lucky that he made it for breakfast.

Gray porridge was served in wooden bowls. They even had some topping to give the bland mixture a somehow good taste.

When compared to other things he had eaten in the army, he would give it four stars. Vincent searched himself an empty table and started feasting. The journey had given him a ravenous hunger.

He wondered, when would he find real comrades. People he could share his thoughts with wholeheartedly. People like the one he had known back in collage. Two friends he had not seen for more than twenty years, one had died in south Africa, the other in iraque.

He wolfed down the rest of his food while playing with svend's coin absend minded. He needed something to study, something to put his mind into, so he could forget all of the problems.

Vincnet needed to ask a lot of questions until he arrived at the small underground room. Flickle light from a lone oil lantern shone on the plain stone floor and walls. Not a single window or opening was present.

His brother stood still, waiting deep in thought. "It took you to come here. I expect you arrive tomorrow the moment the sun even so much as touches the horizon."

"Today I will give you a quick overview of what is considered conmen knowledge. We divide magic talent into three categories. First the capacity dictates how fast your maximum volume growths. Second your purity allows you to do more with the same amount of Mana as others. Last your control makes it easier to do more complex actions with your mana. It does not help you in learning spells.

A mage gains one spell every element every tier. More elements means you generate more mana, and have more spells, jet you need to study longer to grow to a high level."

It made sense. Vincent's capacity was somehow offset by his double element, jet he needed to use it first.

"My second element, do you think I will be able to find a suitable spell in the grand library. Or is it so special that even they do not have any." He sounded slightly arrogant.

Arminius smiled slightly, expecting the question.

"Are you not tired of following the steps those old man set out for us?"

He waved his hand around the room.

"Everything you see in this city, the architecture, politics and the magic – It was made by those before us. Sure they were brilliant. But they were not perfect. We can learn from them."

His blue eyes were cold but focused.

"A friend of mine told me, even if we are small men standing on the shoulders of giants, should we still see farther then they ever did."

His mouth curled up in mischievous grin.

"And even if you would not want to follow my method, you would have little choice. I already searched for reference material and found none, nothing at all."

He stared at the thin frame of Vincent as well as the absence of all and any fighting related training in the report of his subordinates.

"You could go down the path of a magic worrier… I a couple of hundred years you would not lose against even a slightly larger rabbit."

Vincent threw the coin in his hand at his damn brother who, cough it effortless.

"Ah I always dreamed of having a small brother I could poke fun of." Arminius opened his hand, in his palm lying the small piece of metal Vincent always had with him. It had the shape of a perfect sphere.

"You have an interesting magic, care to explain."

He paused.

"Never mind just show it to me."

Arminius threw the former coin back to Vincent. Once it touched his spread hand, it halted in mid-air. Frozen.

Then it came alive, lengthening and slithering up his ring finger. The movement was fluid and fast, like a small silver snake.

Once it coiled around the spot fitting perfectly, it stopped.

The ring looked like it had always been there.

A slow clapping resounded through the room. "Although useless, a good demonstration of your skill."

He crooked his head slightly.

"Try to form something more useful, like a needle. Shoot it with all you got."

Vincent once again grasped for his mana, he had about a quarter left.

The metal in his hand deformed. After a few moments a long silver needle rested in his palm. He used some of his mana to spin it, then pushed it forward.

A small silver light flashed through the room, it took only a moment to reach the other end.

Then it stopped, centimetres next to Arminius's face. He looked at the still spinning projectile with interest.

"It is fast enough to make it hard for a trained fighter to doge. If it manages to hit the right spot, it could also cause serous damage. "

He threw victor a questioning look. "You could have made it faster, jet why did you spin it?"

Vincent shrugged his shoulders. "Makes it more accurate, and the extra speed would not have made a sizeable difference.

His brother regarded the little smiling prick with doubt.

"Right now you are in a tricky situation. If you play your cards right, your opponent will die. In all other situations you will."

He slightly moved his finger and a something grazed Vincent's cheek. A small bloody cut opened up.

"Even a normal human would beat you."

A shiver ran down his spine, he could do nothing, he would have died just there. In this moment his body understood what he knew long ago. If he crossed the wrong people, even if he was just unlucky. He would die. Before he knew why.

"Tell me, what can I do to protect myself." His tone was dead serous.

Arminius smiled slightly. "For now, forget about making a metal shield or something similar. It would drain you unnecessary."

He raised his index and middle finger. Both had scars on their base, they had once been cut of.

"We will work on your damage, so that you can kill warriors before they can close in. Then we work on your perception and ability to doge. Assassins and archers are the death of young mages."

As if planned, a solider brought a fresh deer into the room. With two large iron hooks, he hung it on the celling.

"Let us see how much we can optimise that trick of yours. Let us start with a low cost version."

After two hours, the corpse was mangled and blood was dripping from the many small holes in his body. Both eyes were only hollow sockets.

Vincent was leaning against the wall, everything before him spinning. He felt like shit.

"Mana over draft, you get used to it."

He had reached the limit of his mana around half an hour ago. Yet his brother demanded to keep going, drain more than he thought possible.

"Get some rest, I will send the books to you later. We will skip the second part of the training for today."

'What books?'