Page 4

Chapter four

T he sword slipped from Antony’s grasp, falling to the packed dirt ground of the training ring with a dull clang. He focused on bending to retrieve the weapon, avoiding the gazes of all the other Eteria trainees. Before his fingers could close around the hilt, a large, meaty hand yanked it away. Antony threw his hands up instinctively in anticipation of the smack with the flat side of the blade. This time, it hit him across his upper back, barely hard enough to sting his bare shoulders, but still causing him to stumble forward, almost losing his balance.

“The discipline is supposed to make you fight back, not turn you into a coward,” huffed Bakhos the training master, shoving the sword back into Antony’s sweaty hands, “Again. And remember that you’re not trying to throw your sword at your opponent.”

A few snickers echoed in the training yard, and Antony’s cheeks burned from more than just the scorching sun on his pale skin. He lifted the sword against his sparring partner, a girl many years his junior, barely even past childhood, who already had more muscles to her name than him. She swung her sword, beginning the drill again. Even as Antony met her strikes with the appropriate parries, he was driven backwards by her superior strength and fierce determination. As he stepped back, narrowly missing the swing of the practice sword that whistled past his ear, his too-large foot caught on a dip in the packed dirt. He tried to arrest his momentum, but it was too late. He tumbled to the ground, the impact raising a cloud of dust that permeated his eyes and mouth, making him blink furiously.

Before he had regained his sight, a strong grip hauled him up by the front of his undyed gray tunic. All the new Eteria trainees wore gray, but many quickly earned the red of Warriors and the navy blue of Defenders. Antony had worn gray far longer than most, watching other trainees come and go and he suffered through endless combat drills. At this rate, he would never earn a colored tunic at all.

“Get out of here,” Bakhos demanded, pushing Antony towards the edge of the training ring. It was all Antony could do to keep his feet as he stumbled away in compliance. “I don’t have any more time to waste on you today.”

Antony hung his head, avoiding eye contact with the other trainees as he slunk back to the shared barracks in the Sanctuary. Just before he made it to the archway, a hand landed on his shoulder.

Glancing up, he met Elias’s gaze. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture made Antony’s heart hurt a little less as he went in search of water to clean up with. Elias may not be as uncoordinated as Antony or have earned the ire of the training master, but he didn’t feel the most confident with a weapon in hand, either. Even though Elias was likely to pass his basic combat training far before Antony, at least he never teased him, or volunteered to be his training partner simply for the pleasure of repetitively knocking him on his ass.

Antony located one of the numerous fountains in the Sanctuary courtyards. He cupped his hands, catching the cool water splashing down from the tip of a marble Warrior’s spear and splashing it over his face. He did the same with his shoulders, wincing as he brushed his hands over his sunburned skin. Everybody else seemed to turn bronze during the long days of outdoor training, but Antony was left with painful blisters and more freckles every day. Just another reason he didn’t belong.

Looking up from splashing his face, Antony sputtered at the sight of the Commander standing just across the fountain from him. He hastily scrubbed his hands on his tunic, making them filthy all over again as he snapped to attention.

“Commander.” Antony bowed his head and placed his fist over his heart. He didn’t know how he hadn’t heard her enter when footsteps tended to echo in the bare marble of the Sanctuary. Looking down, he took in his disheveled appearance and winced.

The dirt-crusted tunic he wore looked even more dingy in comparison to the glowing white peplos worn by the Commander. Still, she didn’t seem to notice his apparel as she tilted her head, taking him in with a pensive expression.

“Bakhos thinks I made a mistake when I brought you into the Eteria,” she said by way of greeting.

Antony opened then shut his mouth. Even though he wanted to defend himself, he was low on ammunition. She didn’t seem to be expecting an answer though, as she continued.

“I know I didn’t though. Do you know why?”

Antony expected her to barrel on. When she didn’t, he hastily shook his head, wincing when the action caused sweat to spray from his curls.

“Because you are the second most intense beacon for Light that I’ve ever encountered.”

Antony blinked, and then snapped his jaw shut when he realized his mouth was hanging open.

“Commander…I can’t…” he stammered.

“Part of my gifts include being able to sense the Light in others,” the Commander explained, nonplussed. “It’s part of why I lead the Eteria. I can locate those who would make valuable members, and sense those who are losing their Light to the Shadow. When I met you, I was nearly blinded by your Light, even though you were but a child.

After bringing you to the Sanctuary, though, I decided to let you be. To let the will of the Light take its course. Now, I think it might be time to intervene.”

“Intervene?” Antony echoed.

“It has become clear that any greatness in your future will not be in combat.”

The sentiment made Antony want to look down at his feet, but the way she said it was so empty of judgement. Not at all what he was used to from Bakhos and the other trainees. He held her gaze as she continued.

“I’ve come to see that keeping you from fulfilling your potential in the Light simply because you haven’t taken to swinging a sword is a waste. I am excusing you from completing basic combat training, and you will instead become a full-fledged member of the Eteria and begin apprenticeship with the Smiths.”

Antony’s heart hammered, and he felt as if he was floating. Finally, he would be free of Bakhos and the endless pummeling, both physically and mentally.

“Thank you, Commander,” Antony said emphatically, bowing his head once more.

“Go gather your things,” she ordered. “You are to move to new quarters in the main Sanctuary immediately.”

Antony barely knew how to breathe as she turned away and drifted from the courtyard, a cloud of blinding white grace. He found his voice right before she stepped through the marble archway.

“Commander?”

She paused, turning back to look at him.

“You said I was the second most intense channel for the Light you’ve ever seen. Who was the first?” Antony snapped his mouth shut, realizing it was a bold question to ask, but his natural curiosity could not be contained.

The Commander didn’t seem bothered though, a rare smile appearing on her usually serene face.

“Why, myself of course,” she said before gliding around the corner and out of sight.

At that, Antony’s face split into a grin, and a laugh escaped him. If the Commander believed in him, then maybe he was destined for some great things after all .