Fritz was in the yard, drenched in rain and sweat, finishing the last of his laps, his legs barely wanted to follow his orders any longer.
Adam yelled some profanities over his and his team's efforts.
"You are the sorriest lot of skulg I've had the mispleasure to tutor. There are barnacles that could be done quicker than this!"
Fritz slumped, heaving as he usually did, though his breath did come a little easier than yesterday's and he recovered substantially swifter than he suspected he should. He wasn't the only one suffering, the whole team had been set a certain, likely calculated, amount of running to push their limits in spite their beneficial Passives, Traits and Attributes, or lack thereof.
Adam's precise regimens even had them ending their laps within minutes of each other, leaving them little time wasted as their roaring tutor led them through the next exercises. There were stretches, jumps and lifts that the man considered to be a fundamental part of building a Climber's Physique. Which he clarified as one meant to be: quick when haste was needed, powerful when strength was required and efficient at all times, ready to react at a moment's notice.
"Nothing is to be neglected! Nothing! Lift that bar! Higher! Deepen those motions! Lower! Tense your core! Tighter! Hold that stance! Hold it!" All these admonitions and more were called out as he noticed and nitpicked the flaws in their actions and efforts.
When they had finished with their push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups and plunges, lunges and squats, Adam had them do more specialised, focused exercises. George and Bert's were concentrated on cultivating great bursts of strength while Rosie, Fritz and Lauren were made to work on their conditioning to build Stamina. Cal had to do both, which he, of course, complained about.
"Don't blame me, blame yourself. Your powers are too good to be squandered, too useful to be wasted by specialising one way," Adam reproached the man. "You'll just have to be good at both. Great at both if I can help it. So get to it!"
After that it was weapons drills, he started with the simple stick, or the baton as he described it.
"Sometimes all you have to hand is a stick, or a chair leg or a fire poker. And sometimes you just have to thump a man with it, or whack a woman, if the situation necessitates," Adam proclaimed as if it were some grand wisdom. "Start swinging!"
They did, and he went down the loose line they formed, correcting their postures and the angles of attack.
"No not like that, it's not a blade, you can't count on it to cut. Step into the strike, lend it your weight."
With that and a few rough adjustments, they were soon swinging away, over and over until he deemed them satisfactory. The thin swishes that swept through the air soon gave way to strong short whooshes. Once they had a clear understanding of how to strike and step, he then took them through blocking, parrying and defence.
"Stand solidly and keep the baton between you and your foe. Just it being in the way is enough to save you some hurt," he said. Then he tested them, going down the line again and swiping with his own baton.
Clack, thump, clack, clack, thump, clack.
"Too slow, watch my whole body not just my weapon. Or maybe that's too advanced for you lot of gutter rats and spoiled squid."
He went down the line again, and again, until everyone met his standard. Fritz had no trouble with this part of the training, despite the agony in his legs and the ache in his arms he was easily able to parry such blunt blows. He considered using Pain Suppression again, in fact, he desperately wanted to, but the Treasure was manaless and he would have to refill it.
Adam would have to let him fetch the gold, he knew that, though he decided against it. Not only because he didn't want to elicit a reprimand, but because there was also the price to consider. They had plenty of gold for now, though if he started using the pain suppression every day, just to get through his training, it would start to add up, leaving him both destitute and reliant on the ring's effect.
A fortune, lost because he couldn't endure some discomfort. His legs screamed, but he grit his teeth and ignored them.
Thwack! Fritz blocked Adam's swing without looking, he felt the strike coming half a second before it happened.
"Alright, good enough, pick a partner, spar to six strikes, then swap," the tutor ordered.
Fritz paired with Bert and they began to beat on each other. Even if his brother looked somewhat bruised from the night before, he wouldn't hold back nor be held back upon. Fritz kept his Umbral Phase suppressed for now, which earned him a nod of approval and some words of praise from their tutor.
"Good instincts there, but when we work on evasion you can unsupress that Passive," he had said before turning and shouting at Cal. "Oi! Don't go so easy on Lauren! Hit her harder! She can take it!"
Cal gulped and looked sheepishly at the woman who steadied herself and her stance.
"I can take it," Lauren said with challenge in her tone.
With a hefty whack Lauren was almost flung off her feet, she tumbled to the wet clover with a yell of surprise.
Adam laughed while Rosie cackled at the sight, then she took a thump on the shoulder from George, and yelled.
"Ow!"
George apologised stalwartly to the grumbling Rosie while Cal ran to help Lauren up, speaking a deluge of sorrys. She grasped his hand and let herself be lifted.
"I'm fine," she breathed. "Again."
It went on like that for an hour before they were all too tired to keep sparring. That's when they broke for another breakfast. They ate as if starved and Fritz thanked the maid for laying out their meals and remedies. Cassandra smiled, signing an appreciation of her own.
After their second meal of the day, Adam led them to the lounge and through what was to be the basis of Pattern training. He focused on finding and feeling the energies within, being aware of them even when they opened their eyes. Fritz could do this easily, able to sense and stir his Attribute's distinct power without issue, however, the rest had far more trouble.
It was Control, he knew, but also a product of Focus and willpower, or so Adam espoused. Bert asked about Focus, supported by nods from the rest of the team. Wondering what exactly it did.
"Yes the other Base Attributes are fairly self-explanatory, aren't they? Strength for Strength, Agility for Agility, Endurance for Stamina, Memory for better memory, and Perception for sharper senses. Focus is more abstract in that it makes your mind better or clearer," Adam declared. "One of the main uses for Focus in battle is to aid you in wielding your Advanced Attributes, your weapons and your Abilities all together without letting one overshadow another. It can also lend you an edge in chaotic situations. It's a facilitator and without it, you can find yourself unable to comprehend and contain Senses or other potent mind powers or Techniques."
"I thought it was for magic stuff," Rosie said.
"It's for that too," Adam agreed.
"Does that mean some Techniques are only able to be learned by people with high Focus?" George asked.
"Yes and no, Focus helps, though there's no such limitation on Techniques," Adam provided. "If you can read it, eventually, you can learn it."
With all that said he tasked the team with concentrating on one of their Advanced or Magical Attributes, holding it in their mind and sensing its energies while their eyes are open. And once they could do that he said that they should begin moving, then walking while not losing sight of the magic. It was a tall order.
"Which Attribute should we focus on?" Cal asked.
"My suggestions are in your regimens, but to save you from digging: Momentum for you, Cal, Vitality for Bert, Might for George, Awareness for both Rosie and Lord Hightide, and Essence of Fire for Ms. Nearshore," Adam said.
Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.
"You don't want me to train Grace?" Fritz asked, sure that the man would have preferred that, due to his speciality in the Attribute.
"Yeah, shouldn't I go for Durability instead?" Rosie asked, also puzzled.
"Both those Attributes are powerful and come with many benefits. However, focusing on Awareness first will give you a greater advantage in growth. There's also another edge it grants. If you're more 'aware' of it then its warnings and sensations will be more clear."
They stared waiting for more explanation. Adam continued.
"You will be far harder to surprise and you will be able to employ it better. I don't know any patterns for it, Guides Guild keeps a tight grip on such things, but just being able to keep it in mind will often alert you to things you may miss. It will also make it easier to detect the energies within yourselves more precisely, something that will help with your other Attributes when you start training them too. And you may eventually develop your own patterns or stumble upon one that 'feels right.'"
"I don't really get it," Rosie said. "Why spend all that effort if I'm going to have to train my other Attribute anyway."
"Think of it as fertilising the fields for a greater harvest," Adam explained.
"What?" Rosie asked. "I'm not a farmer, I don't know nothin' about fields."
"Better bait?" Fritz mused. "You can either use a thin worm, or you could fatten it up for a bigger fish?"
"Okay," Rosie said. "Am I the worm? Or the fish?"
"You're both. Or neither," Adam said.
"Okay," Rosie said, scratching at a scale.
"If you find it too difficult, you can swap to Durability," he allowed.
"No, I can do it," Rosie stated, thumping a fist on her chest.
Adam smiled. "That's the spirit!"
Fritz turned his attention inward, feeling for the energy of Awareness, grasping for its pervasive yet ethereal presence. He found it to be the most subtle of the magic within himself. It was unlike the slight, slippery serpent that was Grace, or the desolate, dark drumming hum of Dusksong. Even Control, which he had been told suffused his other Attributes, felt more solid when he found its insubstantial yet fortifying existence infusing the other energies.
When he located the source of his Awareness he maintained his mind's grip on the concept, keeping the Attribute in the forefront of his mind. He pushed on it as he opened his eyes and stared around at his sitting, concentrating crew. His vision abounded with ripples and dim motes of light, flashing, sparking and flaring all kinds of colours, some of which he had no names for. It was confusing. He waved a hand in front of his face.
Adam approached, then spoke softly, "Lord Hightide."
"I found my Awareness, but it's clouding my vision," Fritz said.
Adam looked at him quizzically. "Are you exerting it?"
"If by exerting you mean pushing, then yes," Fritz said, losing his hold on Awareness. The world returned to normal and he frowned.
"Well stop. That's for later, you're trying to run before you walk. I just want you to feel it and find its source, then keep that sensation in the back of your mind," Adam said.
Fritz nodded, taking the advice with deliberate dignity.
The tutor then left him, going to each of the team as they attempted the same mental exercise, offering advice for each of their respective Attributes where he could in that same quiet voice.
Fritz closed his eyes again, finding his Awareness, this time not pushing or grasping at the power, rather he simply observed it. There were some things he noticed, now that he was taking the time to truly look. The energy pervaded his entire body, not just his Sanctum.
It was on the surface of his skin, at the tip of every hair.
It dwelt densely in his heart and gut, and in his very stare.
There it was in the chill, both up and down his spine.
And again it lingered in his ears, a low and subtle whine.
Fritz was distracted by Dusksong, its magic humming through him rhythmically. When he turned his focus on it, he could feel its music affecting his mind. It lent a decidedly poetic bent to his thoughts, as well as an uncanny urge to perform his lordly duties. Keeping and honouring both his and other's oaths. There was another thing he noticed, that it was unlike all the other energies, its strangeness didn't move as smoothly through his body as the other magics did. It was as if it wasn't suited to his base form. When he searched the origin of that impression, he found that the proud presence seemed almost revolted to be anchored, imprisoned, in his flesh.
Was it due to the power's origin? Was the faerie magic truly so different to the Spires'? He felt he could hear words echo from Dusksong, felt his Awareness catch the edges of what it was lamenting.
It was leaking from his Sanctum, it sought to dance and fly.
It wanted to be soaring, and singing in the sky.
The setting sun's song captured, written into bone.
Made to keep on ringing, in basest bleakest tone.
He shook his head, dispelling the dreary thoughts and focused again on Awareness, ignoring the droning of Dusksong. Then he opened his eyes. The roiling air and flaring lights didn't appear this time, but there was a slight, if noticeable, brightening and blurring of colour, as if all things radiated a soft inner light. Though it was disconcerting, it was far easier to see through than his previous, exerted, efforts.
He stood slowly and found it easy to maintain the odd state, tucking away his Awareness to the back of his mind required little struggle and soon he was able to walk while holding it steady.
Adam smiled at his apparent aptitude and Fritz smiled back.
"Walk around the yard three times, if you can keep it up for the whole time we can get started on forgetting the Arte Pugilist," he said.
Fritz nodded and did as he said, strolling, taking his time to view the world in this distracted state. Every now and again the pain in his legs would force him to lose his concentration and he'd have to search for the energy again, but finding always came quicker after each success and holding Awareness in the back of his thoughts only got easier.
Soon he completed the task set for him and returned to his tutor.
"Done already?" Adam asked.
Fritz nodded.
"Very quick, though with your advantages I suppose you would be," Adam said. "In fact, if you had done it any slower I would have been disappointed."
Fritz frowned slightly. Would it kill the man to simply praise him for his efforts?
"Want to get started on forgetting that truly unsuitable Technique?" Adam asked.
"Yes, the sooner the better," Fritz replied.
"Good, we'll go outside again, and I'll go through the theory," Adam said. "Don't want to distract the rest of the team."
They walked to the yard and stood across from each other in the drizzling rain.
"So the first thing you need to do is think of the Technique and be aware of all that you take from it, stances, strikes and the other more subtle things. Now, you won't be able to catch all the small habits you've internalised, and that's to be expected. Some Techniques can have almost unnoticeable effects on how you move, breathe or even think. Even at a Novice level, the effects can be deeply rooted, buried under the more obvious applications such as attacks or shapings."
Fritz nodded and considered words. Some of what was said discomforted him, and he wondered just how much The Arte Pugilist had affected him. Had it pushed him to be more daring? More mad?
"It's like Advanced Attributes then, and how they can affect your emotions?" Fritz asked.
"Yes. Power changes you," Adam stated. "Take the way you're standing right now. Your knees are slightly bent and you're ready to drop into a crouch or roll. You could kick and punch at a moment's notice. None of these things are bad, but they clash with the use of your favoured weapons. Instead of reflexively raising your fists you should be grasping your blade's grip. It's these minute mistakes that make you sluggish and inefficient."
Fritz furrowed his brow. He hadn't felt anything of the sort, in fact, he thought he was the most skilled he'd ever been.
"I see you don't agree,' Adam smirked. "That's because you don't know any better. I bet you hadn't touched a rapier for years before you picked Quicksilver up, and then you went and learned two strange Techniques before you really had any practice with it."
"Are you saying I'm no good with the sword because of The Arte Pugilist?" Fritz asked.
"Not at all, you're no good because you're an amateur who hasn't studied the blade in years," Adam said.
Fritz was about to argue but Adam cut him off.
"I know you had to make do with what you had, and that's admirable, but I'm merely speaking the truth. Not attempting to belittle you or your efforts. Shall we return to the Arte Pugilist?"
Fritz nodded begrudgingly.
"Now that you know all that about Techniques the method to forget it should be apparent. You need to spar, fight or practice and act against what the Arte Pugilist guides you to do," Adam continued.
"And how do I do that?" Fritz asked.
"You pay attention to what your body and mind is doing. It's similar to being aware of your Advanced Attributes except it's harder to detect when a Technique is leading you on," Adam explained. "Which is why we focused on the Attributes first."
"So I need to punch, but do it wrong?" Fritz asked.
"Correct enough," Adam said, scratching at his beard. "You have to shave away all the inbuilt habits you've formed. Like you do in the other training, but more directed."
"That's it?" Fritz asked.
"Yes, there are also tonics that can help the transition, but you should only rely on them if you have to forget quickly or are at an impasse. They can have some unwanted side effects or could lodge it in your mind further. And they can be expensive."
"Do you have any?" Fritz asked.
"I do. Though you should try it the normal way first, it's harder, takes longer, but is less risky," Adam said. "I'll give you a tonic if you haven't forgotten it in a month."
"Thanks," Fritz said.
Adam nodded, smiling smugly. Then in a blur, he raised his fists and Fritz instantly did the same, while coiling his body, ducking his head.
"Wrong!" Adam barked. "I just explained that you have to act against The Arte Pugilist."
"Sorry, it was instinct," Fritz said straightening his stance.
"It wasn't instinct it was learned. Be mindful of the difference," Adam lectured.
"Right," Fritz agreed.
With that, Adam ran him through some drills, when Fritz failed, slipping into one of The Arte Pugilist's forms, strikes or dodges, the whistling of a training sword would soar towards the offending limb. Fritz dodged the punishments as best he could, but his tutor had a knack for staying on target.
Adam would go between Fritz and his team, making sure to help them with soft-spoken advice and him with yells and stinging blows. He felt it was unfair and said as much.
"Different methods for different lessons," Adam said. "Techniques often need to be, literally, beaten out of you. Pattern training is another beast entirely, requiring quiet and concentration to build up the foundations. But don't worry, once they all have a hold on their Attributes they'll be sharing your pain, believe me."
Fritz did. From there the man went on to train them for another hour before leaving, with his pay of course. He whistled a jaunty tune as he likely made his way to the closest tavern.
Fritz collapsed on a couch in the lounge, disappointed he hadn't been able to get rid of the persistent problem that was The Arte Pugilist. It was to be expected, it would take time, something he had less and less of every day.
Then it was lunch, meats, fruits, bread and some mana-dense root vegetable that Cal was able to find a good deal on. He likely got such a great price because the misshapen lumps of green and purple tasted like dirt mixed with soap shavings. They were also gritty and wholly unpleasant.
They ate it without complaint, well, not much complaint, at least.
After lunch, Fritz rested, taking some time to read more of The Observations, though, in his bleary state, not much of it stuck. Eventually, he dragged himself to his room and slept early. After all, he had another night with Toby and Craig to look forward to.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Craig at the window. Fritz groaned and followed.
"I want you to meet me at the warehouse from now on," Craig demanded. "I can't be coming all the way up here every night."
"Right," Fritz agreed with a yawn.
Then it was onto the roofs, then it was more knife fighting. Craig would lend advice here and there, watching on with a gleam in his eye as they stabbed and dodged. And when they were done there, they spent another couple hours in Wardbreaker's Den. Then is was back home and to much needed sleep.
And so the days passed, each filled with training, tutoring and reading. Each day was another tiring, painful trial. But he and his team persisted. He hoped they would show the results of their training. But their slow development didn't feel fast enough.
Would it ever?