Page 23 of The Song of Sunrise (The Prentice Teller #1)

A Weapon for a Tale

F or the next two weeks, Leaf, myself, and only a handful of other cadets and professors will occupy the Academy while others visit home.

I am grateful for the space, because I have a plan.

A plan that involves somehow channeling my Sun’cher magic into something useful beyond a painfully small flicker of light, training my ass off, and investigating more about these magical creatures I overheard from Markus.

Something seemed off about the way he was interacting with Elder Hightail, not that he was rude to the spindly Elder woman, but that he seemed…

desperate. What was this about losing control of the human territories?

Surely the Watch was still maintaining enough power to keep our lands safe from raiders from the Southern Continent.

Then a vision of the abandoned WatchTower near the Dead Twins flashes across my mind and my thoughts begin to swirl.

Perhaps the threats aren’t as far as I had previously thought.

I had always been told to be wary of the Southern Continent’s thirst for power, but between the nomads, abandoned Watch posts, and Underling attacks—perhaps our greatest threat doesn’t lie below to the South, but within our own lands.

“You need a long distance weapon, Kem. Otherwise, you’ll be stardust before you see the whites of your opponents’ eyes,” Leaf says as we walk down the wooded trail to Olwythion, the small town closest to the Academy that cadets may or may not find themselves frequenting quite often.

It is a win-win situation for the cadets able to sneak away for a late night brew at Anita’s and for the small community that welcomes the visitors.

The late afternoon sun gleams through the thinning trees, shedding their leaves, preparing for the incoming winter.

“Don’t get me wrong, you were impressive with your staff this morning during training. Borderline formidable,” he adds like an afterthought, “but you’ll want something that has a farther reach. Especially for someone so small as you.”

“I might be small, but I’m fast,” I counter and pull my gray cloak snug around me. The wind is crisp and pure, carrying the lightest scent of pine from the heavy woods around us.

“Terribly fast, I’ll admit, but your balance needs work. One push and you’re down.”

My sore ass would agree with that statement, but luckily, that part doesn’t talk. “Wow Leaf, you really know how to compliment a lady.”

“Oh, we are far beyond niceties and fully into the shit-talking part of our friendship now,” he says in a sing-song manner.

Our conversation flows effortlessly until we reach the cobblestone roads of Olwythion.

Leaf had insisted on taking me to the town blacksmith after I’d thoroughly failed at each long distance weapon in the Lower Fields.

The spears were too heavy, bows too tight to pull back, and while dagger throwing turned out to be okay, I only had about a fifty percent success rate.

The other daggers ended up dangerously close to Leaf’s feet.

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get used to pushing my body to these new physical limits.

My legs ache each morning as I wake. Muscles are forming in places where I was once soft.

Training is the only place that seems to quell my inner storm of hurt and hatred I keep festering there since leaving Goldenpine.

Olwythion is similar to Goldenpine in many ways, just a more mountainous, more populated, more wealthy version.

Okay, so they are nothing alike , but I can feel an essence of “home” in the sloping shingled roofs and ancient trees surrounding the village. The same comforting feeling I had when I first moved to Goldenpine.

Olwythion is a small community crested between two larger mountains near the Academy.

The Roxnold River flows straight through, cleaving the town into two different sides.

Various stone bridges cross and arch over the rushing waters, some small and narrow for pedestrians, and others much larger for traveling caravans.

Sunshine glints off the water as the birds chirp in formations high above, traveling south before the impending winter. Drafts of cinnamon, bread, and roasted meat fill the air as we walk across one of the bridges toward the eastern half of town.

“Hi Leaf!” a woman says suggestively, eyes only looking at him as she passes, hips swaying so ridiculously I wonder if she will topple right off the bridge.

“Visha,” is all Leaf says back, voice low and lilting with promise.

I raise one eyebrow.

“What?” he says with a mockingly innocent shoulder shrug, “We are just friends.”

“Mmm hmm.”

Leaf must be blessed by the Sun Goddess herself, because we approach the large stone smithery at that very moment. The building is rather simple in design, with a wooden porch wrapped around large stone pillars. A small iron sign of two crossed axes creaks gently on its hinges.

Leaf guides me inside, and I gasp.

The walls around us are lined from floor to ceiling with a disturbing amount of sharp objects.

Weapons upon weapons cover every inch of the walls, making me feel like we are in the belly of some iron beast. The air has a smoky quality to it, like burning metal and leather.

A rhythmic clanking echoes from the back of the space.

A large figure stands bent over before the fire. Their muscled arm swings a hammer with incredible force and precision, molding a longsword.

With each strike, a note sings through the air. I didn’t realize I was humming to create my own complementary melody until they stop, the smith setting the sword aside to cool. They stand tall and flick aside a heavy blonde braid.

“Torvi. It’s always a pleasure to witness you at work,” Leaf says with reverence.

“Leaf, my friend.” Torvi swings Leaf into a friendly embrace, bumping shoulders and patting his back with force. Torvi extends a hand to me. “And who might this lovely human be?”

My eyes widen for a moment at the sheer size of the blacksmith. Torvi’s cream shirt is rolled up at the elbows, exposing thick bands of muscle. Dirt smudges their face and leather apron. Their eyes and cheeks crinkle with lines only years of smiling or laughing could craft.

I take their warm and calloused hands, enveloping my own in size.

“Akemi Nox,” I say looking up at Torvi. Leaf is a tall man, but Torvi makes him look like an adolescent. “Nice to meet you.”

“You as well,” Torvi says pleasantly to me before looking back at Leaf. “What brings you to my shop? Is your curved sword serving you well?”

“The sword is perfect,” Leaf assures. “We are here to seek your counsel for Akemi. She is preparing for the Summit Presentation and needs a weapon. Something she could master based on your assessment.”

Torvi begins to circle around me pensively, undoubtedly taking in my height, weight, arm length, and overall strength.

I had heard about the legendary half-giant blacksmith before but almost didn’t believe the stories until seeing them myself.

Torvi looks as hard as the steel glinting from the light of the forge.

Though something tells me that they aren’t as sharp on the inside.

“Short. Slim. Not much weight on her bones…” Torvi assesses. They lift my arm and roll my wrists, flexing them in various directions before testing and prodding other parts of my arm and shoulder.

“Flexible ligaments, small hands, but good shoulder dexterity and leg strength. Hmm...” Torvi continues to circle me.

“I’m faster than I look. Proficient at the staff and working on throwing daggers,” I say, sounding more defensively than I intended.

“She’s a smart fighter too, but realistically, we need to get her as many weapons in her arsenal before she’s forced into hand-to-hand combat.”

Ouch. As much as I hate to admit it, Leaf is right. I need as many defenses as possible before fighting hand to hand.

The past few weeks of Battlefield, we have been paired up for one-on-one combat battles in the Pitts. The circular craters in the ground were already uneven enough for me to struggle to keep my footing in, let alone fight another person.

I have yet to win a duel.

Everyone else seemed to be bred for fighting or at least had more experience going into the Academy than a Prentice Teller from a small Midlander village.

“I see, I see,” Torvi contemplates until they disappear for a few minutes behind a large leather curtain. Leaf and I exchange quiet looks before they return with a deerskin pouch in hand.

“Try these,” Torvi says, handing me the pouch. “Tie the leather straps around your waist on your left hip.”

I do as they say and tie the heavy leather pouch around my waist. Torvi adjusts it slightly before grabbing my shoulders and pivoting me until I’m facing a wooden wall laden with holes. Likely from testing the various weapons surrounding us.

“Go on. Give them a try,” Torvi encourages.

I carefully open the pouch and look inside.

“Throwing stars!” I gasp and carefully grab one, practically giddy at how light yet sturdy its weight feels in my hand. The star has four blades that curve to a point. I can’t explain it, but the star feels… right.

“Hels! Torvi, those are illegal ever since the accident with Elder Markus!” Leaf takes two steps back then hesitates and steps forward again with a twisted grin.

“Well, technically, they were only banned from the Watch, and since we are in Olywithion…” He trails off, mentally calculating if this is a good or bad idea. “Let’s see them.”

A weapon can be banned from the Watch? This is the first I’m hearing about it. “What happened?”

Leaf shrugs. “Just that they were used during an assasination attempt on the Elder Superior after he was appointed. Left a nasty scar on his chest, I guess. Hasn’t allowed them since.”

Is it terrible that this makes me want to use them more?

“Stars are a formidable weapon,” Torvi explains while walking behind me and places the cool metal star into my palm. “Stagger your feet for support. Thumb here. Elbow in—that’s it—and throw overhand like this.”

Torvi demonstrates a throw, their elbow staying inward while their arm pulls back by the ear and straight toward the target.

I mimic the movement and smile while I practice it a few times. This is the perfect weapon for me. I can feel it in my bones.

“Good. Keep your line vertical and release right at your target, careful not to release too early or late, which could land your star too high or low. Let your wrist flow through.”

I nod, staring at the target ahead, and pull my hand backward then fling the star across the room.

The star lodges into the target, perfectly in the middle of a small circle outlined on the wall.

“Burning Hels!” Leaf says.

Warmth floods my chest. I throw another star.

And another. And another in quick succession.

Ending my show with a small bow. Elation, power, and hope tingle through my body in waves.

I haven’t felt this good in a while. Like I found something that was mine .

Something that comes to me as easy as singing or memorizing Tellings.

“You are a natural!” Leaf exclaims and swings me into a hug.

“I don’t know how to explain it, but it just makes sense to me.”

Leaf kisses my forehead before setting me down.

“I’m so proud of you, Kem. I knew Torvi would find you something. I’m only jealous that I didn’t think of it first. Throwing stars haven’t been used for years by Watchers.”

“They are dangerous weapons, Akemi. You will be a formidable opponent to anyone on the other side of that ring. A forceful throw can pierce through metal sheets,” Torvi explains. “Be careful.”

My bubble of elation begins to burst thinking about how I’m going to afford taking these back with me. What was I thinking? What if I’m caught using them on Watch grounds? And how am I to pay for them? I only have a few coins rubbing together in my pockets and nothing substantial enough to trade.

“Thank you so much for the stars, Torvi, but I’m afraid I’m going to pass.” I try not to let the disappointment flood my voice.

“But you have to get them, Kem! If it’s a matter of coin…” Leaf begins patting his body, searching.

“Hmm. Hold on,” Torvi pauses and looks at me, tilting their head slightly. “You are a Teller, yes?”

“Prentice Teller,” I correct, though not sure how much that really matters anymore. “How did you know that?”

Torvi smiles but doesn’t answer my question. “I’ll trade the stars for a Telling. Preferably one of the ancient Giants of Westland?”

For the third time since joining the Watch, I find my skills as a Teller coming in handy. First, finding patterns with the obstacle course. Second, memorizing Elder Markus’s conversation about the Summit, and now this, trading a weapon for a tale.

“I know just the Tale.”