Cause and effect.
He’d been thinking too often about the concept lately. Everywhere he looked, he saw a vast web of interdependence.
He blamed Alena.
They might be separated by distance, but she had figured out a way to connect with him. They met in her mental world every week, comparing their learnings. They met in a construct of her mother’s kitchen, the place she felt most comfortable.
Together they advanced faster than Brandt believed possible.
But it wasn’t enough.
Even Highkeep served as evidence of Brandt’s concern. When Brandt had first come here the monastery had been a hive of activity. It always appeared quiet from outside the walls, but inside, dozens of monks threw themselves into daily training.
Today a bare handful remained. Brandt and Ana lived here, as did Kyla, the abbot. Kurl and six others rounded out the monastery’s current inhabitants. The rest were scattered throughout the empire, teaching their skills to the army and to city watches. Though the citizens of the empire weren’t aware of it, they were preparing for a war they had little chance of winning.
In another two weeks a group of monks were scheduled to return. Then Brandt and Ana would leave and continue the instruction while the others continued developing their own skills.
Train yourself. Then train others.
That had been the emperor’s last command to the monasteries after Landow.
So Brandt trained. More than most monks, he was given the time and space to learn more about the powers that infused their world. Though Kyla would never order him to do so, Brandt still volunteered to train nearby city watches. He didn’t believe it was right for the other monks to bear the burden of preparing the people without him.
Besides, sometimes teaching led him to new discoveries.
Brandt finished crossing the empty courtyard, coming to the abbot’s study. He knocked and was welcomed in.
Kyla had served as the abbot of Highkeep since before Brandt’s arrival. She kept her hair cut short, betraying her own distant past in the military. Brandt gave her a short bow as he entered.
She wasted no time in pleasantries. “Ready?”
“I am.”
Kyla put her hand on her desk. Brandt heard the sounds of stone shifting within, unlocking a hidden compartment.
She pulled an uncut diamond out of the desk, clutching it tightly in her hand. “Which element shall we begin with?”
“Water.”
Without a word, she pulled some water from a nearby cup, letting it gather in the air between them. Then she pushed it at him.
Brandt heard the song of Kyla’s power and felt the water rushing toward his face. Pushing directly against the water would only cause it to disperse, soaking him.
Like a grappler, Brandt elected to use Kyla’s strength against her. Instead of fighting against her, he let his own strength redirect the water. The small sphere of water distorted as it whipped around his head and back at Kyla.
They could redirect the water back and forth for days with no winner. The task wasn’t particularly difficult for either of them. As Kyla mimicked Brandt’s redirection, sending the water back his way, she split it, not into two parts, but four.
A hint of a grin broke out on Brandt’s face. He redirected all four smaller spheres, splitting one into two. He sent three straight at her while allowing two to orbit around his head one more time.
It was training, but it was also playful, at least with water. Failure cost no more than a wet face most days. Other elements were less forgiving.
The water danced between them. Pushed, pulled, and redirected, at least one attack was always headed his way.
Stone followed water, and fire after that. In each element the pattern repeated. By the time the last flickering ball of flame was extinguished, both Brandt and Kyla were short of breath, sweat beading down their foreheads.
Kyla placed the stone back in her desk, straining against the effort of locking the hidden compartment after her exertions. She held Brandt’s gaze.
“I don’t know what more you hope to accomplish here,” she admitted.
Brandt wiped the sweat from his eyes. “I don’t know what else to do.”
“You’re as strong as any unaided warrior the empire has ever seen. Only the emperor is stronger, but without his gates, I suspect even you could challenge him.”
Brandt stood, pacing Kyla’s small room. He wanted to argue with the abbot, but to what end? They’d explored the problem from every direction. They had no answers, and his frustration had no outlet.
He rested his forehead against a cool stone wall, imagining the solid peace of the stone seeping into his bones. “It’s not enough.”
“I still think you should leave to study with the other abbots. Even a change of scenery may lead to the breakthrough you seek.”
Brandt thought of his last encounter with the queen of the Lolani. Two years had passed since that moment, and every day he felt her strength, imprinted somewhere deep in his heart. He might be one of the strongest in the empire, but whatever light he displayed was a dying candle against the roaring bonfire of the Lolani queen’s ability.
He could wander the empire for an age, meeting new teachers in every corner. It still wouldn’t be enough.
Now that he knew what was possible, nothing less was acceptable.
Given the futility of his efforts, why not stay where he was comfortable and welcome? In Highkeep he could put away daily concerns and focus on developing his skill.
“I’ll consider your wisdom.” They both knew it was a lie, but neither would point it out. “Thank you for your time, as always.”
Kyla nodded and Brandt took his leave. Kyla, aided by Highkeep’s gatestone, could barely keep up with him. As he continued to get stronger, that would become untrue. Then he would have no one to train with, no one to push him.
Perhaps Alena could construct some sort of mental training ground where he could further hone his skills. She claimed she had done something
