Non-Heir - Black Mage 0.5 by Rachel E Carter

Author:Rachel E Carter [Carter, Rachel E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Young Adult Fiction, Fantasy, Epic, Romance, Paranormal, Coming of Age
Publisher: Rachel E. Carter
Published: 2017-07-24T22:00:00+00:00

4

When the boy turned twelve, Sir Audric introduced a new weapon to their daily rotation: the battle axe.

It required more precision and skill than the sword, but Darren immediately felt a connection he had previously lacked. There was something primal about hefting an axe in each hand, and though his shoulders burned like nothing else after each session, he never wanted it to end.

All of the knights fought with swords or arrows from afar, and some soldiers used polearms. But as far as the boy could see, no one used the axe, and he wanted to be different. If he was going to stand out from the masses, he wanted to do it with the weapon everyone else was afraid to use.

Fear was a powerful thing. It was also a motivator to push on long past the point of exhaustion. Sir Audric and Eve were first to remark that he pushed himself too hard, but Darren didn’t care.

It felt good to be the best, and with the axe, he finally was. Eve still beat him in archery, and they were evenly matched with the sword, but the axe required a strength she didn’t have. Darren pressed that advantage, lifting special weights at every opportunity.

Eve teased him—Darren had shot up six inches in the course of a year, adding muscle to his frame so that he now towered over her by a whole head and outweighed her by half. But Eve had the agility he would always lack. The girl was fast and she was smart. Any victory over his slim opponent was hard earned, and he had a sense it would never, ever, come easy.

On their fifth month using the axe, Sir Audric finally permitted the two to intermix their weapons in a freestanding duel. Previously, they had only taken turns with patterns, trading off the sword for the axe.

Hook in then out, slash and cut. It was a dance, a heavy pattern that took more strength and dexterity to parry. The swift movements of Eve’s sword and shield were a challenge for two hefty blades, but Darren was getting better. Every day he was getting used to the weight.

And today he was determined to win.

He might have, too…

But as he swung with what should have been the winning blow, an overpowering gust sent him sprawling against the wall instead.

For a moment, he just lay there, stunned.

What in the gods’ blasted names just happened?

He should have won. Darren hadn’t tripped. His form had been perfect. He had spent far too many hours making sure he cut with just the right amount of weight, and that he had full control of his swing—

And then, as the boy was pushing himself up off the dirt, dust coating his arms, he saw Eve.

Her weapons were on the ground in a heap. Normally Sir Audric would chide them for such careless regard, but both he and his daughter were too busy staring at her hands. She held her fingertips close to her face as she studied them with wide, unblinking eyes.

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