Now that it was clear to Kael that these two weeks were going to be the worst of his life, he made a comment, looking half-resigned:

  "Well… so what are we eating tonight?"

  He rubbed his stomach to illustrate his point, then added:

  "I mean, I haven’t eaten all day."

  Velara snorted.

  "If you want to eat, go get yourself some food.

  You’ve got a weapon, don’t you? Then use it."

  She began gathering a small pile of wood and a few leaves, without even looking up at him.

  Kael, dumbfounded, spread his arms:

  "But… I don’t know how to hunt, just so you know!"

  Velara, bent over her pile of wood, simply replied:

  "Then it’s time to learn, don’t you think?

  You’d better hurry, before it gets completely dark."

  She rubbed her hands together in a sharp motion.

  Sparks flew, fell onto the wood, then she made a simple gesture with her hand.

  The fire suddenly ignited, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  Kael blinked several times.

  He didn’t ask any further questions.

  It was Velara, after all.

  "Well… that’s convenient."

  He wrapped himself in the dark fabric he had picked up from the Overdrawn’s corpse earlier, and headed into the woods beside the clearing, grumbling to himself.

  Kael returned a few hours later, his hair disheveled, full of leaves tangled in it.

  He was holding a rabbit in his hand, looking triumphant.

  He approached Velara, dragged a tree stump close to the fire, sat down on it, and sighed.

  Velara was seated opposite him, leaning against the large stone at the center of the clearing.

  Without wasting any time, Kael set about skinning the rabbit.

  He did it quickly, cleanly, with surprising precision.

  Velara straightened up and remarked:

  "You don’t know how to hunt, but you know how to skin a rabbit?

  You’re a paradoxical being, Kael."

  Already cooking his catch, Kael replied:

  "Yeah, I know.

  And don’t even bother asking if you can have some. You should’ve hunted it yourself."

  Velara snorted and jerked her thumb toward a half-cleaned pile of bones a little farther away.

  They were the remains of a massive animal, some kind of huge boar.

  Kael grumbled.

  "You couldn’t share, seriously?"

  "I have a very big appetite," she replied simply.

  Kael ate his rabbit in silence.

  Once he finished his meal, he sighed in satisfaction, stretched at length, and nestled into his black cloth coat.

  But Velara stood up.

  "It’s time for your first lesson.

  Get up."

  Kael straightened without arguing.

  "Hand me your Needle-Blade, please."

  He tossed it to her.

  Velara caught the weapon smoothly, weighed it with her gaze, then made a few fluid, precise movements.

  "This is indeed a Relic. How did you get your hands on it?"

  Kael raised an eyebrow, a little surprised.

  "Seriously? I thought it was just a basic weapon…

  But I admit it caught my eye the moment I saw it.

  As for how I acquired it… let’s just say an old merchant who was a bit too arrogant lost at the wrong game. I think he learned his lesson."

  Velara spun the Needle-Blade in her hand.

  "I don’t know what a Relic was doing in the Broken Crown, but this one is peculiar.

  Judging by the Elan it carries."

  Kael stepped closer, curious.

  "And does it have something special? Tell me."

  Velara studied the blade through the firelight, frowned slightly.

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  "Yes."

  Kael, excited, burst out:

  "What is it? Does it shoot fireballs? Does it move on its own? Does it have a blade that cuts through anything? Tell me!"

  His eyes were shining with excitement.

  "I always knew it was special.

  Maybe I’ve got a gift for recognizing a good weapon, don’t you think?"

  He paused, looking rather proud of himself.

  Velara, still focused on the weapon, finally replied:

  "Apparently, it can blend into the light. In broad daylight, it becomes invisible… or refracts light, making its trajectory hard to follow.

  We’re a long way from fireballs and all that."

  Kael instantly lost all interest.

  "Not very impressive, in the end."

  But Velara added:

  "It has a second ability. That one is… special.

  It almost looks like a flaw."

  "Go on, tell me.

  It can’t be worse than the first one anyway."

  "The Needle-Blade breaks easily."

  Kael threw his arms up in the air.

  "Great. Even better!"

  "…Except that if it’s supplied with Elan, it can reappear continuously, even after being broken.

  Basically, it’s immortal."

  Velara tossed the Needle-Blade to him.

  Kael caught it awkwardly.

  "Avoid using it," she said.

  "Since you don’t wield Elan, and it isn’t linked to your subconscious, you risk breaking it over and over.

  And who knows what would happen if that occurred right now."

  Kael looked at his weapon with new eyes, tinged with regret.

  "So what am I supposed to do, then?

  You’re supposed to train me, aren’t you?"

  "I wasn’t planning on training you with that weapon anyway," Velara replied.

  "It’s too… limited.

  Too light, too thin.

  You need to learn with a more standard weapon."

  She raised her hand.

  A shower of sparks appeared in the air.

  A long, single-edged saber slowly materialized.

  It had a fine golden guard, a dull, discreet gold.

  The hilt was made of wood, carefully wrapped in braided brown cloth.

  A scabbard of the same color accompanied it.

  Velara made a few fluid movements with the weapon.

  "This weapon should suit you.

  It comes from the Eastern realms. It’s a saber.

  Close to your Needle-Blade in handling, but heavier, a bit longer.

  You’ll work your posture and distance management better with it."

  She handed him the weapon.

  Kael took it with respect.

  He assessed it as best he could, with the little knowledge he had in the matter.

  The feeling was different: the weight in his hand gave him a sense of lethality greater than the Needle-Blade’s.

  The hilt was long enough for a two-handed grip.

  He slowly drew it.

  The blade, damascened, had a brilliant whiteness.

  Kael couldn’t hold back a murmur of rapture.

  "Wow…"

  He immediately added, eyes shining:

  "And this saber… does it have an ability?"

  Velara simply nodded.

  "It can store physical damage… and return it."

  Kael opened his mouth to say something, but she raised a hand.

  "Before you get carried away:

  You have to parry the damage with the weapon, then resheath it, and draw it again to release it.

  And anyway, for now, you can’t use the weapon’s abilities."

  She looked at him, more serious.

  "I want you to focus on handling first. The rest will come later."

  She summoned another weapon:

  A long sword, elegant, without ornamentation.

  "Now, let’s move on to practice.

  Take your stance."

  Kael positioned himself at once.

  He took the guard Althéa had taught him.

  Velara slowly circled him in silence.

  Then she spoke:

  "Your footing is solid… but flexible enough to change direction and angle quickly."

  She lightly touched his shoulders and elbows.

  "Your shoulders are relaxed. Your elbows bent at the right angle.

  Your grip is firm."

  She smiled faintly.

  "I see the princess didn’t spend all her time slapping you.

  She did teach you the basics, at least."

  Velara repositioned herself three meters from Kael.

  She didn’t take a guard.

  Her arms hung loosely at her sides, relaxed.

  "Now, attack me."

  Kael blinked.

  "You haven’t taken a guard…"

  She snorted.

  "As if I needed one."

  He frowned.

  "Suit yourself…"

  He charged.

  Weapon raised above his shoulder, he committed to a direct strike, aiming for Velara’s right flank.

  She parried with disconcerting ease.

  The impact rippled through Kael’s entire body.

  The vibration ran up his arms, jolted his shoulders.

  "Too wide. Too slow," she said calmly. "And you leave yourself open with every step."

  Kael backed off, grimacing, then tried a second attack.

  Velara merely turned her sword slightly.

  A clean, sharp deflection. Kael lost his balance.

  "Center yourself. Breathe. Don’t attack to hit. Attack to reach."

  He growled and came at her again.

  Fast strikes. Too fast.

  He tried varying his blows—a wrist rotation, a change of rhythm.

  "Panicking already? Bad sign"

  He attempted a low, dirty strike, a petty thrust toward her knee.

  She raised an eyebrow.

  Perfect counter-block. She hadn’t even changed expression.

  Kael was panting.

  Velara, on the other hand, hadn’t moved an inch.

  He searched for a new angle.

  A beat. A feint toward her flank. She was no longer holding her sword with both hands.

  He went for it.

  Fast. Precise this time.

  The blade was about to slip through.

  But Velara pivoted slightly, and without warning, slammed the back of her fist straight into his jaw.

  Kael felt his head spin.

  He collapsed into the grass, breath knocked out of him.

  A thin line of blood escaped his mouth.

  Velara remained motionless, weapon still low.

  "Fists are weapons too.

  Remember that."

  She stepped closer, her gaze hard.

  "Everyone dreams of beating the shit out of a little bastard like you. And they won’t hesitate."

  She stared him straight in the eyes.

  "Get up."