Chapter 2: Discipline

Sairek let out an exhausted sigh, grabbing the tail end of his red cape to wipe the sweat off of his eyebrows and forehead that was quickly accumulating from him being battered by the sun’s rays. Laure had not been exaggerating about the heat today, and it wasn’t helping that part of the sweat was due to the gnawing paranoia that was growing with every step he took down, with an entourage of soldiers following him down the massive spiraling pillar of a cliff of which the castle rested on top of. It spiraled down and down, around and around, until eventually reaching the foot which led directly into the village of Marid. Really, it wasn’t that high up; but the cliff face was steep enough to be pretty difficult to scale without the stairs. It was made this way as a form of defense long ago, back in a time when wars were every other decade or so.

Now it was just kind of inconvenient.

Usually where a castle rested would be named the capital and as a result, would be in a metropolis of a city. Marid was indeed the capital, but it was just a simple town, almost a village. The actual city was out a little further to the northeast called Lamen. Still, Marid was reinforced by a heavy set of walls and the village was even further reinforced by being at the edge of the continent, the castle constructed right by the southern ocean which the castle itself overwatched, limiting advancement options against the town by foot and magical defenses could be used to sink down any ship that tried to get close. The small compactness of the town made it easy to defend and Sairek could see the entirety of the town every morning just from his bedroom window, which was on the northern side of the castle. He could also see almost all of it even now as they approached the foot of spiraling steps, and he could see the crowd of people waiting—for him.

Paranoia turned into a wave of helplessness and his mind started racing in a cold panic. He only now realized how badly he truly did not want to do this little… ‘performance’ as his father put it. His foot bonked against a loose stone the size of his fist and he buckled in his step, nearly toppling over. One of the soldiers sent him a sideways glance but he managed to catch himself with the use of his staff and kept walking like he didn't nearly trip.

He wanted to back out, but even that was impossible now. People could see him approaching. The act of him leaving abruptly in front of them all would probably be even worse than what he may have to put up with if he just grit his teeth and stood his ground. The large amount of soldiers behind him were probably there not to just protect him, but to also stop him from running away anyway. Sairek moved his staff to grip it in both of his hands tightly. He felt like such a shy little child in the moment. If it wasn’t for the fact he was walking, he was sure the shaking he was doing right now would probably be visible as if he was freezing to death, despite the hot summer day. Some of the shaking wasn’t just fear though, but anger. Anger at his father.

When they finally approached, all of the villagers knelt down before him in a show of respect. He loathed when people did that. He didn’t want to be treated above anyone; he just wanted to be treated as an equal. Sure, he was currently the second most important individual in the country with only his father above him, but he didn’t care for any of that.
Sairek gripped the staff with both of his hands even tighter, the people raised their heads back at him as he dawdled and delayed, saying nothing, not speaking to them. Sairek’s emerald eyes swept from left to right across the crowds of people, expecting him to do things, to say something…

Sairek gulped. This was such a sham. And he was going to take the fallout for it.

He inhaled deeply, then exhaled through his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, his expression changed from nervous to stone faced, he willed the shaking and fear in his body to hold still, to force the absence of his anger to his father out of him, to empty and blank his mind to only addressing the people in front of him, just like he was always taught to do. Taught to hide himself away, to not be the person he was, but a lie of a persona the people of his country apparently wanted and needed. He moved his staff to his right hand in a firm grip and planted it up on the ground, holding it just like he had in his bedroom mirror only an hour ago.

“...Please, all rise.” He commanded them, speaking slightly slowly, but clearly, the tone a demand, sounding confident despite his emptiness of it. All at once, the villagers rose from the kneeling positions back onto their feet. Sairek quickly was racing in his mind trying to conjure what he should say next. He could tell the truth about this whole thing, how it only happened because his father was being petty, but if he did such a thing, well… he didn’t even want to think about the consequences of that. His father would never let him live it down, that’s for sure. He gently bit the inside of his cheek. He hated lying like this, especially for his father, but the man had tied his hands pretty tightly this time. Still, he was going to wiggle out of his bonds as much as he could muster.

“I thank you for all coming here today despite the heat, before we begin though, this heat wasn’t in our plans today. If any of you wish to be absent today because of it, I’ll understand. You are free to do so if you wish.”

Some of the people looked at each other in a bit of confusion. “We can just go?” He heard one of them speak over a soft murmur of voices.

“It’s not my or my father’s intention to put any of your health at risk. After all, this is more for entertainment.” Sairek claimed and glanced his eyes to the side without turning his head, some of the soldiers were eyeing him, obviously knowing that this wasn’t exactly true, but it’s not like they could say anything in the moment. He turned his eyes to look back at the crowd. “So if any of you feel uncomfortable or ill in this heat, then please go now and take shelter from it instead.”

It was with relief to him that a moderate number of the large crowd just turned around and began to leave, mostly the more elderly. Sairek waited for them to leave. It was still a lot of people but at least he would only embarrass himself directly in front of half the town’s population rather than the vast majority of it.

With no more people leaving, he took a slow deep breath. “As for the rest of you… my father has wanted to come and reveal how my studies are going as a magician and while I disagree that my magic that I can cast is really useful in combat as of yet, nor do I wish to practice the art to be used to harm any individual, this is more of an open test to figure out how creative I am using my novice abilities to aid me in combat. Please try not to pass judgment too harshly, I’ve never done anything like this before and it will be a large learning experience for me. Just think of this as watching a friendly duel.”

“Or… at least, a friendly duel is how it is supposed to go...” He finished in thought to himself bitterly.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply through his nose, turning his head to the left to look at the men behind himself, watching. “Let’s just get this over with.” He whispered to them under his breath. “Which one of you has my father's gifted the privilege of ‘punishing’ me?”

He noted that while most of the men and women behind him that were sent to babysit him were wearing the usual sandy brown robes and cloaks, one man stood out from the usual attire, wearing a dark brown vest with a sandy brown cape instead of a robe, having red hair and had stepped up to the front of the pack. “That would be me, Prince. Greetings. My name is Samuel, though I'm sure you recognize me.”

Sairek’s mind went into a bit of a panic mode. He knew who the man was, there was no need for him to introduce himself. There were the usual Ceareste guards and then there were the elites who were above the rest of the pack. Veterans who either had been serving with the castle for an extremely long time, or people with exceptional skill. Samuel did not look old, seeming to be maybe in his late twenties, a young veteran, which meant he was no doubt just latently skilled at magic. Basically everything Sairek was not.

He didn’t need the evidence to guess it, but yes, his father was most definitely pissed off with his apparent antics of late. He must have let the concern show on his face, because Samuel smirked at him and the glint in the man’s brown eyes expressed a certain satisfaction.

Well, not everyone liked him at the castle, he supposed. Some people were just dead-set loyal to his father, no matter what, and whenever Sairek inconvenienced his father, it also inconvenienced them. Sairek had inconvenienced his father a lot. He supposed the hate he garnered was only natural and perhaps at times even well-deserved. At the same time though, Sairek despised his father wanting him to become obedient, doing anything and whatever he said without question. 'Just because I said so' was not good enough, and to often be disciplined or punished for that? Was that just abusing power, or just simply cruel parenting? Sairek still wasn't sure.

He collected himself and steeled his expression once more. “Well, come on. If you want to give everyone a 'show', come over here.”

“With pleasure, Sir.” Samuel smirked, though it faded more into a neutral expression as he stepped up beside Sairek, who turned back around to face the crowd of people again.

“This here is Samuel, a veteran soldier at the castle and will be my opponent for this. Of course, I do not expect to win such a duel against someone so capable as he is, but the point isn’t for me to win, it is for me to learn and further my experience and from some of the best at the castle, I hope to do so.” Sairek said to the audience watching him, then eyed the man.

“Do not worry, you need not hold back with me, Prince.” He heard Samuel murmur to him, barely moving his mouth so the crowd wouldn’t notice him speaking. Sairek hadn’t planned to hold back at all. He’d need anything he could grasp his hands on to stand a chance. Samuel, unlike the rest of the soldiers, wasn’t even holding a staff or a wand. That wasn’t him just putting himself at an intentional handicap, either. The man just outright didn’t need one, unlike Sairek. He was just that good. Besides, while such magical weapons did have their own advantages, the over-reliance on one was usually a weakness. Not having one made you much more flexible in many other ways.

“Yes, at least try to make this entertaining for them and make it last. If you end this in under a minute, they’re going to be very confused. Wouldn’t want to expose the sham this is too quickly, right?” Sairek chided back to him in the same murmuring while he turned towards Samuel, who turned around to face him as well. They both held their left hands out. Sairek’s palm up, with Samuel’s palm down over top of Sairek's.

They stayed like that for five seconds, enough time for Samuel to say in response to Sairek's comment: “That is your responsibility to amend unfortunately, Prince. It is not mine.”

That made Sairek gulp.

After five seconds, they moved their hands away, each turned with their backs facing each other and walked fifteen paces away. Sairek knew with his shorter height, that they wouldn’t actually be thirty paces even from each other, which would put him a bit closer than intended to the man, so he sped up his walking a little, taking two steps more than he was supposed to. He doubted anyone was actually counting to notice and Samuel wouldn’t look back to see him. It was a bit of cheat for a duel, but he didn't care.

The guards that had been behind Sairek now moved towards the crowd, ushering them back a little and moved to stand by them. After Sairek took his paces, he turned back around to meet Samuel who turned to do the same.

“You can make the first move, Sir.” Samuel called back to him from the distance, making sure the audience could hear him as well. Sairek gritted his teeth at that. He repositioned his right hand along the staff, until he was clutching it in the center rather than near the head where he usually gripped it and he pulled it a little closer to his chest.

The problem with him making the first move is that Sairek only knew four spells. None of them were good options. None of them even worked well at this range, but since he was allowed to make the first move, he took a moment to plan a defense instead. The biggest problem he had currently is that he had no idea what Samuel was actually capable of or how the man used magic, meanwhile, Samuel probably knew everything about him... not that there was very much to know.
If Samuel wanted to neuter him completely though, all he had to do was go for the staff and take it from him. After that, Sairek knew he would be about as capable as a defenseless animal and if the goal was to embarrass him as much as possible that would most likely be the sort of action he’d take.
So this was probably going to be less a traditional duel and more like a sadistic game of ‘keep away’ with him needing to keep his staff safe. At least, that’s what he’d do in Samuel’s position.

Sairek’s mind expanded outwards to his staff, his thought conjured outward into a commandment of will; absorbing the ether in the air around him down into the staff, in which with that still conscious thought, the energy began to convert and shift into the a specific shape of a spell. It took him about four seconds in total before he moved his staff outward to his left with both hands then in a swinging motion, he yelled out the enchanted word: “Balinzer!”

A jet of flame emerged from the head of his staff, spewing forth a few feet. He swung it low to the ground into the grass from left to right, alighting the grass ablaze in a short wall of fire in a half dome shape in front of him. The flames only went about two feet high, though despite the flames, the grass did not become damaged by the fire. He was in control of them and he could make them burn whatever he wished, though that did make the spell moderately harder to control. Fire was pretty wild and liked to go off and do its own thing unlike the other three elements. The flames however were currently fueled solely by the ethereal he drew in rather than the material they were set on though, so as long as he kept that steady, he could control what they burned. Air was usually the second hardest to control, which is what he was preparing next.

Samuel, seeing him make his move gave a bit of a questioning look, but regardless, he simply just began to walk towards the Prince casually. He wasn't looking impressed at all.

Sairek readying the energy for his next spell, swung it back from right to left, this time yelling out “Wuaie!”

Unlike the inability to hiss out the candle without his staff from the night before in the library, this time a strong gust that made both his and Samuel’s capes flap wildly rushed outward and in the direction of the man. The flames on the ground too pushed by the wind, rolled and crawled forwards, fueled by the air, they moved towards Samuel, managing to climb a foot taller than before.

“Seriously, these are the most basic rudimentary spells, boy. Let me show you how it’s done.” Samuel lifted both his hands and clapped them together once. “Wuaie.”

At that clap, Sairek staggered back as a giant rush of wind dwarfing his own dragged him along the ground and the pressure on his clothes on his front felt like he was being pulled backwards through almost every article of his clothing. The man literally just clapped and ushered such force so calmly without even pointing it, his skill was just that good!

Covering his face with his arms, Sairek peeked out from the cover of his limbs to see the fire he had just sent towards Samuel was coming back to him much faster than earlier. Through the gusts of wind, Sairek clenched his teeth as he channeled energy once more into his staff, then bowing his head so the wind didn’t feel like it was peeling his face off, he pointed the staff forwards with both hands gripping the weapon and yelled “Waert–!!”

A large jet of water streamed ahead of him at Samuel, though the closer the water got, the slower it became before it simply began to move backwards towards Sairek in giant large, spread-out droplets, completely thrown back by the gust of the wind.
That… wasn’t quite what Sairek had in mind, though it did have the benefit he supposed of raining on the fire and dosing it out as well as creating a large fog of steam as Samuel's wind spell ended, having them both be shrouded in a fair bit of a foggy-like substance.

Which was also why Sairek didn’t see Samuel outright sprinting at him until it was almost too late.

“Ethirul!” Sairek shouted quickly, thrusting his staff downwards with the butt of the staff into the ground. A large chunk of dirt abruptly emerged a few feet in front of him and Samuel in the formation of a wall about ten feet wide.

Unfortunately for Sairek, the man just outright punched right through it like it was nothing with his own chant of “Waert.” Sairek only got to step a couple of feet back before a sudden wall of water, rock and mud splattered all over him and his clothes, shortly followed by a knee into his gut which exploded into him and he crumpled and bent forward, clutching the area instinctively. It didn’t hurt that much thanks to his clothes, but the force of the blow sure knocked the wind out of him and staggered him into helplessness. Samuel watched him, stepping back as he slowly began to recover, only to clap his hands once again. “Ethirul.”

Sairek flinched in reaction to the word, then yelped as he suddenly felt himself lifted up a few feet from behind, by his cape. He glanced back as a spire of dirt and rock had just conjured behind him into a point, pinching right where his cape and hood connected to him from behind, raising him up, and past the cloud of steam and fog he had raised.

He glanced around, panicked as the people were looking at his currently muddy and soaked form, though they only got a few seconds to stare at him in bewilderment before he suddenly cried out as the pillar that had grabbed him suddenly yanked and dragged him back downwards, causing him to collide painfully into the ground onto the flat of his back with a hard and pained grunt.

Sairek panted hard through the pain, opening his eyes, feeling dizzy and woozy. He saw Samuel looking down at him with a smirk. “Y-You’ve made your point…” Sairek began to plead.

“Maybe, but with you, I think we need to be perfectly clear.” Samuel frowned. “So let’s be clear, shall we?”

“S-Stop…!” Sairek began in protest, seeing the man raising his hands again, but it was no use. Another clap, and again he said “Ethirul”

Sairek yelped as the ground under him churned, and then abruptly rose up with such speed, that he was quite literally tossed up into the air, yelled as he spun in the air out of the cloud only to once again fall back into it, this time landing messily into a softer patch of sand that hadn't been there before which for the most part cushioned his fall—somewhat. It still hurt though. At least the man wasn’t trying to kill him…

He slowly looked up through wobbly vision, just in time to see Samuel reach down, for his staff. Sairek moved to grip it as tight as he could with both hands while Samuel only grabbed it with one, tugging, and just from that, Sairek had only barely managed to keep his grip.

“Well, I shouldn’t be surprised. You are prideful after all.” Samuel sighed, planting a foot on top of Sairek’s head and pulled with his hand and pushed with his foot. Sairek cried out weakly, his hands being pried off his staff, where Samuel planted it hard into the sand like it was a stake, then he grabbed the back of Sairek’s cape and pulled him up with ease, hanging the wriggling and writhing Prince onto his staff like he was just some kind of ornament. The cloud and fog settled more than enough by now for the audience to see Sairek, muddied, soaked, and hanging just inches off the ground, struggling to try and pull himself off of his staff uselessly.

“It would seem you have somehow got yourself tangled up, Prince. I think that makes me the victor since you seem to be... unable to continue.” Samuel said loud enough for everyone to hear with an amused smile and the rising laughter of some people in the crowd. “Better luck next time, I guess.”

Sairek glared at him, teeth clenched, a growl escaping his throat. He stopped struggling, hanging there limply, with his hands balling into extremely tight fists, his face flushed with color. He bit the bottom of his lip to stop tears that threatened to come out.