Before revealing himself to Florence, he hadn’t exactly been taking it easy. Training had already occupied most of his day. It was just that Valerie had generally been content to—or, perhaps, resigned to—leave him to his own devices until Claire returned from her mission. With no particular schedule to keep him on course, the temptation to follow whatever whim arose had, admittedly, been difficult to resist. He hadn’t strayed completely off track. The time had been far from wasted. But he couldn’t deny that it hadn’t been utilised with total efficiency.
That changed with the recruitment of Florence, but she wasn’t necessarily the catalyst herself. He and Valerie had already discussed properly handing over control of his training to her, and Florence finally spurred them to make that leap.
Lucas quickly discovered that both women had strong opinions on what a training regime should look like. He’d never worked so hard in his life.
The first day had been the hardest. They’d decided to test just how far they could push him, and had him running up and down the grand staircase until he literally couldn’t go on. After, he’d rested and recovered remarkably quickly. Without the Great Star doing whatever it did, he was sure he would’ve been sore for weeks.
If the day had ended there, it would’ve been bad enough, but it seemed Valerie and Florence had taken the request to beat him up rather literally. He wasn’t convinced the ensuing few hours could be called sparring, since they insisted on him using every ability in his repertoire, magical or otherwise, and handily trounced him still. There was no denying its utility, letting him practise using his magic in combat situations. That one training session grew his strength and confidence unlike anything he’d ever seen. It still hurt, though.
And that still wasn’t all they’d done. After a large dinner of meat and eggs with a surprisingly-pleasant-tasting salty gruel thing, they’d had him work on his magic until long after the sun had gone down, and the tower had to be lit by magic crystals ensconced in the floor. They went through all the magic he currently had, and catalogued how he used it. Florence met Jamie, and was deeply unimpressed with one (at minimum) of Lucas’ magics being linked to another being—and that wasn’t even getting into the soulbond. To be fair, Lucas wasn’t happy about the heart’s flame situation either, but it was the best compromise he’d been able to come up with at the time.
A legendary lecture had ensued. While Valerie was only able to use basic magic with great difficulty due to her condition, and Florence was also a Swordmaiden and thus not specialised in the art, they were still both skilled and knowledgeable in their own way. In just a few hours of dedicated tutoring, they had him opening new pathways far more efficiently, and cut down on the lag time with Jamie and his pyromancy until it felt almost manageable in combat, if he was really prepared. There wasn’t much they could tell him about floramancy and lunamancy, since they were taboo and rare respectively, but many of the principles they taught him carried over.
They even made him practice his necromancy, when he reluctantly told them about it. It wasn’t so much necromancy as osseomancy at that point, letting him shove his ‘neutral’ mana into bones and manipulate them in subtle ways. A single bone on its own wasn’t so useful, little better than using floramancy on a stick. It was only when they brought him entire skeletons that he found more utility, letting him animate them like puppets. He was surprised how unbothered by it they were, since he’d assumed necromancy or osseomancy or whatever would be considered evil magic of some description.
Florence had simply told him: “There’s only one true evil on this world. Humans get the benefit of the doubt, no matter how distasteful their abilities may initially seem.”
He was bothered enough for all three of them, at least.
Their mentorship wasn’t limited to combat and magic, either, though it was definitely the majority of their focus. He needed to know a lot more about the world to be able to navigate it safely, and so they agreed to set aside a few hours before bedtime to drill a bunch of general knowledge into his head. Locations, history, politics, flora and fauna, and more. He was shocked at how easily it all sunk in. He never needed to be told a fact twice.
They also ran him through hypothetical scenarios. Conversations he might have, negotiations with potential hostiles, battles he might take part in. Florence most took over from Valerie here, since the latter spent much more of her time fighting demons at the edge of the Blighted Lands. Florence had swathes of experience with running more mundane ‘missions’ all over Mornlunn, and thus her knowledge of such things was second to none.
Not to be outdone, though, Valerie took control of any lesson about beasts or demons or blight. Few people knew that subject better, and most of those were still on the Front Lines, hardly in a position to teach him anything. She’d already been giving him the basics on their travels, but now she went in depth, and he couldn’t help thinking she’d held most of this stuff back on their journey in order to keep his morale high.
That first day set the tone. He went to sleep close to midnight, and was expecting to be woken up early the next day. Instead, they insisted he get a full eight hours rest. That wouldn’t always be possible in the field, they told him, but while training it was best to ensure his body recovered every night as best it could.
Every day after that, they trained at every waking moment. Valerie taught him (and beat him up with) the sword. Florence taught him (and beat him up with) the glaive. They went through dozens of other weapons, too. Though they insisted their skills with other disciplines were rudimentary, they seemed incredible to him. They built up his current magics, rather than overwhelming him with more. His unique blessing to be able to follow multiple disciplines of magic was useful, but for now his mentors agreed it was better to grow in depth rather than breadth.
In a matter of days, he felt like he was improving in leaps and bounds. After a week, he wasn’t completely helpless in a fight against either of the skycloaks, though they were still handily beating him, and he was starting to believe he’d be able to bumble his way through a conversation with a local without drawing suspicion to himself or looking like an uneducated moron.
His magic advanced rapidly, too. Especially floramancy. It wasn’t long before he managed to change his whole arm into a plant, and customise it. Taking the traits of multiple different plants and combining them to suit his needs was a difficult skill to master, but just taking the first steps gave him a feeling of triumph that very little else could match.
It wasn’t just in training that Florence’s assistance was vital. She knew the people stationed at the Moontower far better than Valerie, who was somewhat famous in a way that perhaps wasn’t exactly positive, and she was able to work up a plan to subtly probe who might be trustworthy with the secret of his identity. Whenever Valerie was tutoring him in the lore of demons and whatnot, Florence would head out to investigate the current state of affairs. She never outright told anyone about him, but she was rapidly gathering a list of names she thought could potentially be trusted.
Eventually, an idea occurred to him, and he tasked Florence with tracking down Wick. It took her a few days, but eventually the giant of a man strolled into their training room just as Lucas was getting his legs swept out from under him by Valerie, sending him crashing to the floor. Lucas had the wind knocked out of him, so it took a little while for him to form a greeting.
“Hey, Wick,” he wheezed. “I’m sorry it took so long to check in on you.”
“You’ve nothing to apologise for,” Wick said, eyeing Valerie for a moment, then Florence, before turning back to him. “Everyone from Taunton is settled in. Aly has officially registered herself as the guardian of the farmer’s two children.”
Lucas had almost forgotten about them. Or, perhaps, deliberately put them out of his mind lest the unfairness of it all get to him. He smiled shakily. “That’s great to hear. Is she staying in the city, then? She didn’t seem the type.”
“That’s uncertain for now,” Wick said. He’d moved to stand by the doorway of their training room, while Florence watched him from the other side. “Aly is someone used to living in the wild, but it seems she recognises that isn’t a life she should drag the two little ones into. I’m sure it will be an adjustment for her.”
“Yeah,” Lucas said with a sigh as pushed himself to his feet. Valerie waited nearby, and he held up a hand for her to give him a moment. “She’s a Raelar, right? Some kind of hunter nomad culture?”
“They weren’t all nomadic. I wouldn’t take the way she lived as representative of their entire culture,” Valerie said. “Sadly, they have been greatly diminished by the Blight. From what I understand, many of them felt compelled to take back the lands that had been stolen from them, and they inevitably failed.”
“That’s awful,” Lucas said, frowning. “I remember she was alone out there, and Elwyn said something about her being a princess?”
“I haven’t been able to get much about her life out of her,” Wick said, sadness written over his face. “She’s very focused on the two children. I believe she may be distracting herself from her distress.”
“That’s not uncommon, in my experience,” Florence said.
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“It's unhealthy,” Wick said. “But if she isn’t prepared to face her emotions yet, maybe it’s best not to force it.”
A solemn silence fell over the room at that.
Wick ended up sticking around for most of the rest of the day, giving Lucas a new sparring partner. Or, perhaps more accurately, giving another person to beat him up. Wick’s defence was impenetrable, as far as Lucas was concerned, and his strength was absolute monstrous when he went on the offence. Not as strong as the two skycloaks, and certainly not as fast, but a different kind of challenge.
When they were done, Lucas and Wick ended up sat at the side of the room, leaning against the wall and sharing a skin of icy cold water with a hint of something tangy in it—apparently, it was the local equivalent of an energy drink. Across from them, Valerie and Florence had huddled together to speak in hushed voices, debating over a piece of parchment Florence had fetched a few minutes ago.
“I informed Jyn Sakhelyan’s family about his death,” Wick said abruptly.
Lucas almost choked on the water he’d been drinking.
“I didn’t tell them about you, Lord Lucas,” Wick hastened to add, stiffening under Valerie’s sudden attention. “I merely gave them a vague summary of what happened to him. Why a skycloak felt the need to lure him out there and dispose of him. It was not a pleasant conversation.”
Lucas took that in for a moment. “Yeah, I can imagine.” He grimaced. “Were they, uh, sympathetic to his cause?”
“They didn’t appear to know about it. However, this kind of situation is exactly what groups like Jyn’s keep an eye out for, in my estimation. If they weren’t on board with anti-Order schools of thought before, they’ll be ripe for being convinced now.”
“Sounds about right,” Lucas said. “They’ll be angry, devastated. If someone comes along and whispers in their ear, manipulates them to point that anger in a certain direction…”
“None of Jyn Sakhelyan’s family pose any threat,” Valerie said. Her and Florence’s conversation had come to an abrupt end as both of them picked up on Wick’s words.
Wick shrugged his massive shoulders. He’d dispelled his bulky armour, leaving him in a black gambeson and rough trousers that looked like bark. “It’s a shame to lose anyone to that kind of group. Even if all they can do is pass on word of things they see, they’re still a thorn in our side, no?”
“Our?” Florence repeated, one eyebrow raised.
“I swore to protect Lord Lucas,” Wick said simply. “If he wishes for my presence in his party, I shall be there.”
“Thanks, Wick,” Lucas said with a smile.
“Think nothing of it,” Wick said, giving a brief, brittle smile of his own before wiping it away as quickly as it’d come. “I also visited the residence of Rena Luos. She had no living kin, and thus no one to pass her belongings on to.” He frowned. “She had a lot of dogs, though. I’ve been looking after them, as best I can.”
“How many dogs?”
“A dozen or so.”
“That sounds expensive…”
“Sparing a bit of coin for her beloved companions is the least I can do to make up for failing her so completely.”
“You didn’t—”
Wick held up a hand, cutting him off. His eyes strayed to Valerie and seemed to darken, before he took a deep breath and turning back to Lucas. “For the sake of maintaining the peace, let us not talk of such things, my friend.”
Lucas nodded slowly. “Just let me know if I can help you out with the dogs at all. Regardless of what went down or who’s to blame, I’d feel like shit if I let a bunch of puppies go hungry when I’ve got the power to do something about it.”
“Puppies,” Wick said with a snort. “Far from it. You should come meet them some time. From what her neighbour told me, the dogs are some kind of breed that was unique to the region around Duskpoole. They’re rather large.”
Lucas promised to do so, and Wick left soon after, leaving them to the evening lecture part of Lucas’ training.
Wick ended up joining them on a daily basis after that, becoming part of Lucas’ training and adding an extra voice to his education. It turned out that, while Florence and Valerie were very well-informed on the intricacies of their society on a theoretical level, Wick had plenty to offer in a more practical sense. There were nuances to life that the members of a quasi-religious warrior sect could never be privy to, and Wick ended up filling in a lot of gaps.
One could debate whether knowing things like how to recognise a vendor who was more likely to bargain at a market and how to get a free room at a guild would be all that useful to Lucas in his current situation, but he appreciated the tips all the same.
The rhythm of his days settled. The schedule was somewhat rigid, but he found he appreciated that. Removing as many decisions as possible from his life took a lot of weight off his shoulders, allowing him to focus entirely on the lessons his comrades were working so hard to drill into him. His improvement was rapid, and it only accelerated as the days went by. He still had a long way to go, but it still frightened him a little, just how quickly he picked things up and improved.
In what felt like no time, he was jogging up to the 224th floor where he and Valerie still stayed without having to stop once. Then, not long after, he felt only a little winded by the time it was done. Eventually, a day came when he reached the top before he even realised it, and almost ran right past the door, Valerie having to call him back; he’d run the entire 200+ floors without breaking a sweat.
It felt almost wrong to end the day without the familiar ache of fatigue, and he forced himself to keep going all the way up to Claire’s office. That gave him the exhaustion he was looking for, and he trudged down to his bed with an equal mixture of satisfaction and trepidation in his heart.
For all he wanted to make himself strong as fast as possible, now that it seemed more within reach, he found himself experiencing something akin to stage fright. His time at the Moontower hadn’t exactly been comfortable, per se, but it felt like an interlude. A respite. Once he was capable enough in Valerie and Florence’s estimation to run missions, he was going to be out there again, fighting, facing the grim reality of being the Chosen Hero who was supposed to bring hope and salvation to a world standing on the brink of destruction.
It was a daunting prospect. He dreamed that night of an army of demons rushing towards his position on an open field, and he had no choice but to face them all alone. As far as nightmares went, it wasn’t the most terrifying or disturbing his subconscious had dredged up, but he woke up in a cold sweat all the same, heart beating like a jackhammer. Trying to get back to sleep ended up being a futile endeavour. Though it was still pitch black outside, he pulled on some clothes—always the blue shirt and trousers the Order provided their people, which made him feel like a nurse—and trudged out into the main room of Valerie’s spartan quarters. As he eyed the near-empty space, it occurred to him that he’d never got around to decorating his temporary room.
He was unsurprised to find Valerie at her desk, chin propped up by laced fingers. Dim light from the crystals in the floor threw shadows over her face, but her icy eyes were sharp as steel in that darkness. She didn’t acknowledge him until he was right next to her, placing his hand on her shoulder, and even then she spared him only a glance. Her mana wasn’t as bad as he’d seen it, but it was bad enough to tell she’d been in a dark mood.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he muttered, watching her.
“It’s my birthday today,” she said simply.
“I see.” Lucas didn’t know what to make of that. It wasn’t uncommon for people to resent their birthdays, he supposed. There could be any number of reasons for it.
In that consideration, though, he realised he didn’t know much about Valerie at all. He’d asked little questions here and there on their travels from Pentaburgh, but she’d been rather tightlipped. Here, he was sure she’d be more willing—well, willing was the wrong word. The point was, she’d explain anything he asked, he was pretty sure. He was under the impression that she didn’t want to be a hypocrite, and she pretty much expected members of the Order to follow the commands of the Great Heroes without question.
He was also very much under the impression she didn’t want to talk about herself, so he left it be.
He pulled up a chair and sat next to her, pushing lunar mana into her channels and forcing away those little dark points of corruption, wondering where they actually came from. He said nothing.
They sat together like that as the darkness started to burn away, the sun rising from the east. It was nice that that was the same here. For some reason, he thought it would have really bothered him if something so fundamental about life had been different. The place felt less alien.
Eventually, all the dark spots in Valerie’s mana were gone, and she let out a long breath. She hadn’t moved a muscle since the moment he’d entered the room. Hadn’t even twitched.
“I’m twenty-five, if you were wondering,” Valerie said. Her voice was uncharacteristically quiet, subdued. It wasn’t that she was usually loud, but he’d become so used to her even tone that any deviation from that norm tended to catch him off guard. She hadn’t strayed in all the time they’d been in Dawnguard.
“Eleven years on the Front Lines, then,” Lucas said, then winced. He didn’t know why that was the first thing that came to mind, nor why he’d blurted it out like a moron.
“And many years of hell before that,” Valerie said, still quiet.
Silence reigned for a long moment. Lucas didn’t know what to say, and in the end he said nothing at all, which he wasn’t sure was any better.
“My ninth birthday was the last time I remember being happy,” she told him. “My mother baked sweet buns for me. Friends came over and helped me eat them. There were presents. My father got me a little bow that let me tie my hair up. I can’t picture any of their faces. Not from that day.” She paused, then spoke even quieter, “Did I really have a sister, or is that the demon tormenting me?”
Again, Lucas didn’t know what to say. This was so far outside his wheelhouse.
But he was the Great Star. The power of thousands of souls guided his skills, growth, instincts, and so much more, and some part of him, when he searched for it, knew that she didn’t want to hear pity or platitudes or hollow encouragements.
“Did you ever get the demon that did this to you?”
Valerie shook her head. Her chin still rested on her laced fingers, and it made for a jerky, awkward movement, so unlike her.
“We’ll find it, some day. Think of it as a commission, if you like. Eventually, when I’m able to kick around demons like rats, I’ll pin the one that did this to you by the tail, and you’ll deal the final blow.”
Valerie nodded. Neither of them spoke until the sun had fully risen, and they got back to work.
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