The training ground was quiet now, save for the rhythmic swish of Aina's practice blade as she went through her forms. Lord Alaric and Elias stood in the centre of the field, the silence between them as thick as the morning mist that had yet to burn off. Alaric's usual lordly air had vanished, replaced by the solemn focus of a teacher about to impart a secret.
"The Still Sword," he began, his voice soft, almost a whisper.
"Is not just a style; it is the culmination of a decade of weakness and frustration. You see me as I am now, but it wasn't always like this. There was a time when I had no Trait. I was a young, a little older but no different from you. I was weak. Helpless. I couldn't feel the Flow like the others. I was overlooked, looked down on, and not allowed to train with the proper knights. It was a humiliating time. It made me feel… worthless."
Elias listened, unable to picture it. This man, his father, Lord of the lands, a man who felt like a mountain carved from marble and steel, had once been weak and helpless? He had heard it from his mother and Roric but still,the idea was impossible to grasp.
"Every day, I watched the other children, grow in their power," Alaric continued, his gaze distant.
"They had something I didn't. They had a pathto lead them to their goals.I had none. Only an idea of what I wanted to be and the reality of what I was, inferior. In my despair, in my hopelessness, I had a thought. A flash of insight. If the world didn't give me a path,I'd make my own,become stronger in my own way. A way that would ensure that I wouldn't be looked down on and above all,my friends and family wouldn't bear the brunt of my weakness. How did u achieve this? I learned the orthodox ways of power, then I would create my own from Flaws. Create a style that would not rely on a trait, but would take advantage of the inherent weaknesses of those very styles. That was the essence of being 'Still'."
It took him two years, he explained, to simply discover the basic philosophy of Stillness. Another ten years of trial and error followed, of countless failures, bruises, and broken blades, until he perfected the forms. He would share the core of that philosophy now.
"The Still Sword," he said, his voice now filled with a strange, fierce pride, "is a fighting style born from the weaknesses of others. I took the absolute defence of the Stellar Aegis Style. I took the misdirection and feints of the Phantom Blade,I took the relentless, overwhelming attack power of the Devouring Edge Style. And from the SunBreaker Style, I took its ruthless, calculated precision. I took all of these and made my own fighting Style based on the counteracting and compliments of their philosophies."
Elias listened.He thought of his science lessons, of the laws of nature and physics, and a simple principle came to mind.
'It's like… a stationary body.It reacts with a force equal in strength but opposite in direction to whatever is thrown at it. No,it's not quite the same but similar....' Elias thought as he tried to understand the concept behind this technique.
A broad, genuine smile broke across Alaric's face.
"It seems you've understood the key basis son. Let me build upon that." he said, nodding.
"The Still Sword is not about action, but about reacting to the threat faced. It's a bit similar to the Stellar Aegis' way of fighting. You wait for your opponent to attack first then you block before transitioning into a parry or straight into a counter attack. But unlike Stellar Aegis where your brain needs to give your body commands,your body is already in synergy with your brain,in a state where you don't need to think, just adapt and react to your opponent.It like facing an opponent with an impenetrable armor. You change your approach in reaction is the threat and the best way to counter. Now,what would be the best way to defeat such an opponent?" Alaric asked.
Elias thought for a moment.
" Shifting to tactics that would exploit the mobility of the armor as well as using weapons like a Warhammer or Mace that would send force through the armor to damage the person inside even if the armor still holds."
"Hmmm. I was going to say you should simply go for the eys but what you said is alright too." Alaric said with a shrug. Elias blinked.
'Go fur the eyes? Doesn't that go against some noble ideals or chivalry or something.' Elias thought not expecting his father to think that way.
Alaric meanwhile explained the style's structure.
"The Still Sword has six forms. The first five each have four unique variations, and the last form has only two. Each variation is a unique path, a way to handle a specific kind of opponent. Mastering one is a challenge; mastering all twenty-two, well... it is a challenge indeed."
Elias couldn't help but look away, feeling a weight settle on his shoulders. The task did indeed seem difficult.
Alaric chuckled, a low rumble.
"Don't worry, my boy. It took me over ten years to perfect. It's not supposed to be easy. If it was, everyone would do it."
Just then, Alaric glanced over to where Aina was practicing. She had stopped her movements and was staring at them, her blade hanging limply at her side. Her eyes held a mixture of curiosity and a strange emotion. As soon as she realised they had noticed her, she turned her head away and resumed her practice with renewed vigour, but Elias knew she was still listening.
Alaric turned back to Elias, his smile fading, and his expression becoming stern. He raised his practice sword, holding it with the effortless poise of a man who had made a weapon an extension of his own will. The silver light of the morning glinted off the steel.
"Today, we begin. With the first form."
Alaric took a deep breath, his grip on the practice sword tightening. He raised it slowly, almost lazily, then without a word, he lunged forward. His movements were precise and controlled, but to Elias's unpractised eyes, it was a blur. He stood there, frozen, his mind a whirlwind of confusion. He knew he was supposed to do something, but the 'what' and the 'how' escaped him. The flat of Alaric's blade connected with his arm with a dull thud. It didn't hurt,much, but the blow was a stark reminder of his helplessness.
"You're thinking," Alaric said, pulling back.
"And that, my son, is what will make this difficult. It is the greatest obstacle to mastering the Still Sword."
He looked directly at Elias, his gaze intense. "Instead of thinking about orders to give your body, you must let your body and mind work as one. The reaction must be instinctual, immediate, with no thought in between an instant counter to whatever you're facing. The stillness is in your mind, in your body, in your soul. You are not meant to act; you are meant to adapt and react accordingly."
Elias couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. 'That doesn't make any sense.'he thought. 'How can I adapt to something instantly without thinking it through ?'
As if reading his mind, Alaric gave a patient smile.
"Don't worry, my boy. This is your first try. It's an unnatural thing to ask of a person. It may not make much sense at first,but you'll come around."
He raised his sword again, but this time, the air around him seemed to hum with a silent, menacing energy. The playful light in his eyes was gone, replaced by a cold, sharp focus. He moved with the speed of a bullet, a sudden, blinding rush of motion that left Elias no time to even blink.