On the Nightshatter's flight deck, the air was still and tense. Three standard Presidroids stood impassive, their polished forms a stark contrast to the nervous energy of the three young adventurers facing them. From an observation platform above, Roy stood with his arms crossed, flanked by Takara and a silent, assessing Warrex.
"Begin," Roy's voice echoed through the vast space.
The test began with immediate action. Orin moved swiftly, his feet carrying him in swift, evasive maneuvers across the deck. He moved with a speed surprising for his size, but his large sword stayed sheathed. Meanwhile, Rava retreated to a safe distance and Andri positioned herself defensively in front of him. Orin had a dozen clear chances to strike, but he ignored them all.
Seven luminous orbs, each a swirling vortex of white and blue light, were conjured by Rava, his frustration a palpable aura. Two of them swelled and settled like vigilant guardians at his flanks, while the remaining five shot forward, only to be effortlessly sidestepped by the agile Presidroids. With a frustrated growl, Rava reasserted control of the orbs, redirecting them. But the Presidroids, with cold efficiency, battered the magical projectiles into a drizzle of dissipating mana.
"Spine of the Ice Drake" Rava yelled as he raised his staff.
A phosphorescent azure ice spear, articulated like a spinal column and incorporating water discs between its vertebrae, coalesced with an audible discharge. An instantaneous decrease in ambient temperature followed. Rava thrust his staff forward, sending the spear darting erratically through the air. A Presidroid countered with grace, a defensive rune flickered before it. The ice spear bent then curved around the rune, but the Presidroid, agile and precise, easily dodged the attack.
The spear sailed over the edge of the Nightshatter and harmlessly shattered against a suddenly formed wall of Navi'N dust.
"That was… my best move," Rava said, awestruck by the Presidroid's speed and the black swarm's defense.
Seeing the futility of using his magic, Rava made a tactical decision. He thrust his staff forward, and a shimmering line of energy shot out, connecting him first to Andri, then to Orin. The two previously conjured defensive magic orbs sputtered and died. In their place, a surge of physical power flowed into his limbs, and he drew the straight sword from his back. Andri, too, felt the boost, her stance solidifying as she gripped her spear with newfound strength. Together, they charged, their combined assault managing to put two of the Presidroids on the defensive, but the cost was too high.
Across the deck, Orin crumpled. The link, siphoning his immense physical prowess to empower his two weaker teammates, had left him crippled. He strained, his muscles bulging, but he could not even lift his sword. A frustrated cry escaped his lips. "Rava! I was just about to attack, I swear!"
With its target now immobilized, the third Presidroid simply sidestepped the chaotic assault from Rava and Andri. It walked calmly across the deck, approached the immobilized Orin, and delivered a gentle but decisive tap to his chest with the edge of its hand. A soft chime rang out, signaling a simulated kill.
"End test," Roy called out, his voice flat.
The link dissolved. Orin immediately sprang to his feet, flexing his hands as strength flooded back into his body.
Roy descended from the platform, his expression one of weary frustration. "That was a mess. You have power, all of you, but you fight like three different storms occupying the same teacup. You need to work together, not against each other." He looked at his own crew, a question in his eyes.
Before anyone else could speak, Takara stepped forward, her usual hesitation gone, replaced by a focused resolve. "They have the raw talent, Roy. They just need the right guidance. Warrex and I can get them ready."
"What about Evarran?" Roy suggested. "He's the 'teacher of heroes', isn't he?"
Takara's head snapped toward him, her eyes wide with horror. "Absolutely not," she said, her voice a fierce, protective hiss. "Evarran is a monster, you know this! He would eat these kids alive… every day…for weeks."
Over the next several days, the flight deck became a crucible. The trio was split, their flaws addressed by specialized mentors.
Across the deck, the resounding clang of bone on steel echoed as Warrex sparred with Orin. The half-bearfolk moved with his usual, yet brutal, fluidity. Knocking a barely defending Orin around by punching his sword. "You wait for the perfect shot," he growled, forcing Orin to backpedal from a flurry of strikes. "There is no such thing. A glancing hit is fine, as long as you can dodge the counter. Wound, don't kill. Bleed, don't break. Now, attack!"
The philosophy began to take root. Orin's movements became less about pure evasion and more about creating opportunities. He started swinging his massive sword, not with the intent to finish, but simply to connect. During one exchange, he managed to score a shallow cut along Warrex's forearm.
Takara, observing from the side, chimed in. "Warrex, you should fight with actual weapons to be able to block."
"Both of the axes you made me are destroyed. I won't fight without my axes," Warrex groaned, parrying another of Orin's swings with his hands. "It isn't right."
From behind him, a small voice full of solidarity yelled, "You understand me!" Orin had latched onto the back of Warrex's leg, squeezing it in a gesture of profound understanding.
"Why not buy another set?" Takara asked, mildly annoyed.
"Because," Warrex replied, his tone unusually soft, "you forge the best of the best. And I will wield nothing less."
A flicker of surprise, then a slow smirk spread across Takara's face. "Fine, fine. Prepare yourself, Warrex. I shall craft the finest axes this world has ever witnessed!"
-
One afternoon, Lutrian came to watch the training. His eyes fell upon Orin's sword, a thoughtful frown on his face. "That sword…" Warrex commented, noticing the prince's interest. "It looks familiar, but I can't quite place it." Lutrian stepped forward and, with Orin's permission, took the hilt in both hands. With a grunt of effort after a brief moment of shock at the weight, he lifted it and swung a few times in rapid succession. Orin looked delighted at the sight of his blade moving so fast. The sheer weight caused a visible strain to appear on Lutrian's face, but he managed it.
"Incredible, this sword is easily hundreds of pounds," Lutrian panted, setting it down. "This boy would be an absolute freak of nature if he just used a normal weapon."
"Trust me!" Orin's proud voice boomed, "I'm plenty tall enough to wield this sword!"
"It's almost twice as tall as you, and just as wide…" Lutrian countered, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"Yup!" Orin responded, his smile so genuine and infectious that Lutrian couldn't bear to debate any further.
Meanwhile, Takara had a different challenge. She had created a swarm of small, floating runic shields that darted around Rava in erratic patterns. "Forget the link for now," she commanded. "Forget the straight sword. You're a mage. Prove it." Rava, his face a mask of concentration, fired bolts of energy from his staff, trying to anticipate the shields' chaotic movements. Slowly, his aim improved, his confidence growing with every successful hit.
Lutrian, his lesson with Orin concluded, found Takara struggling to teach Andri. The girl's form was stiff, her movements born of panic. "Perhaps she needs a touch more… finesse and elegance," Lutrian teased gently.
Takara beamed at him, a wide, genuine smile. "That is the first time you have ever done anything like that to me, Lute. I like it! I must be strong enough to mock now!"
With a courtly bow, Lutrian took over. He summoned a blade of light with a complimentary spear of light and began to spar with Andri, alternating between the sweeping arcs of a sword and the quick thrusts of a spear. He pressed her relentlessly, forcing her to adapt, to stop panicking and start reacting.
After days of grueling physical and magical training, Roy called a halt. They moved to a wide, dirt field just beyond the ship. "Andri," Roy asked, "Rava has his stat link. Orin is a genuine freak of freaks with his strength and speed. Do you have anything like that?"
She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I do," she admitted quietly. "But… I can't use it on the ship."
Warrex stepped forward, cracking his knuckles. "Show us."
A short trek to a nearby stretch of beach next to the harbor followed. Warrex raised his arms and awaited her attack. Andri nodded, her expression grim. She placed both hands flat on the earth. The ground beneath Warrex's feet swelled upwards, then collapsed inwards, pulling him down into a rapidly forming cocoon of stone. A moment later, he was gone, entombed in an earthen egg that pulsed with a faint, green light visible through the sand.
After a few seconds, the egg cracked open and Warrex burst out, dusting himself off. "That was… refreshing," he admitted, surprise in his voice. "And surprisingly hard to escape. I doubt most A-ranks could break out of that without a real fight." He rolled his shoulder. "Hmmm, it seems to have cured a small amount of the aches I gained from parrying that beast of a sword."
Andri finally looked up. "It's called Womb Tomb, a healing ability," she explained. "If you had stayed in longer, it would have healed you completely." To demonstrate, she slapped her hands on the ground again, casually re-entombing the unprotesting Warrex. "The problem," she said, looking at Roy with a shameful expression, "is that it takes people out of the fight. For minutes if the injuries are bad enough. Hours if near death. No one wants a healer who sidelines their own allies in a hard to escape tomb."
A minute later, Warrex burst from the earth, his skin flawless and his muscles bulging. "Wow, I feel…perfect. Even the snagging sensation in my right knee I've had for years is gone. You are truly talented," he exclaimed, flexing his arms.
Andri smiled and bowed, blushing at the praise.