Chapter 1466: The Lesson Of Her First Sword

"I’ve seen Owain’s sword, Mountain Breaker," Ashlynn said. "It’s a beautiful weapon," she said, though there was a sour note to her words as she spoke.

Mountain Breaker wasn’t just a beautiful sword; it was a carefully crafted piece of Owain’s image. The blade was polished mirror-bright, and it bore a gilded inscription that read ’Ever Onward.’ The hilt had been carved from a dark wood that Ashlynn only recognized now as a piece of Ancient Oak plundered from the Vale of Mists, while the pommel and quillions were set with jewels taken from Airgead Mountain.

It was meant to look like the weapon of a hero, and Ashlynn had to admit that there was a time when her heart had fluttered seeing Owain wielding it. But that was before she came to know the man behind the mask, and much like the rest of him, she was certain that the sword masked secrets of its own underneath its glamorous appearance.

"Mountain Breaker is more than just a beautiful weapon," Nyrielle said, twirling the sword in her hand before presenting its hilt to Ashlynn so her lover could feel the weight and balance of it. While Nyrielle had never personally held Owain’s sword, Marcel had been able to learn enough about it for her to make a credible attempt at replicating the weapon’s properties.

"The sword is a trap," Nyrielle explained as she watched Ashlynn frowning at the blade in her hands. "That flare toward the tip where most longswords would taper shifts the balance of the blade forward, giving it even greater strength to cut and cleave. It all but pulls its wielder into committed offense, forcing whoever carries it to extend themselves in every cut and thrust."

"Ever onward," Ashlynn murmured as she gave the sword a few tentative swings. "It’s a trap because it forces Owain to attack more than he defends, and it’s harder for him to defend himself when he’s forced to," she realized.

"Owain has accumulated a reputation in Lothian City for his brutal training sessions," Nyrielle said as she bent the fabric of the dream to conjure a falchion similar to Ashlynn’s. "Attack me, and see if you can learn why," she said, taking a defensive posture similar to the one Ashlynn had used just moments ago.

The longer sword was unfamiliar in Ashlynn’s hands, but both Thane and Sybyll had forced her to use a longsword at least a few times while they trained so that she could understand the weapon of the enemy she was preparing to fight. She’d hardly call herself skilled with the blade, but at least when she launched herself at Nyrielle with a heavy, overhand blow, she managed to avoid embarrassing herself.

-CLANG-

"Keep coming," Nyrielle said as she batted the blade aside. "Again and again and again. Don’t allow me to recover or counter."

-CLANG- -CLANG- -CLANG- -CLANG!-

Ashlynn threw herself into the offense, emulating the way Nyrielle had fought when she demonstrated Bors fighting style, becoming a relentless force determined to cut the other woman down.

Nyrielle was fast enough, strong enough, and filled with enough decades of experience that she was never in danger from Ashlynn’s onslaught, even as her lover’s eyes began to glow with a faint emerald light and her blows became harder and sharper.

"Good!" Nyrielle said as Ashlynn became more and more aggressive in her attempts to master the forward-heavy weapon. "Now see the counter," she said as she changed the way she defended herself. Instead of deflecting the incoming blows, Nyrielle allowed the force of impact to add to her counterattack’s momentum, riding the impact as she changed her angle of attack.

Each time Ashlynn struck, Nyrielle countered, placing the clipped tip of her falchion in line for a wicked thrust at one of the places where there would be a gap in armor. Armpits, knees, the throat... Every time, Nyrielle forced Ashlynn to abandon her next attack to awkwardly defend against a threat she couldn’t ignore.

As the pressure increased, Ashlynn found herself falling back more and more on her earliest lessons with Thane, borrowing on the aggressive, cleaving techniques that she’d used with her nameless darksteel falchion. The weapon had shattered during her battle against the spirit of Ansgar in the High Pass, but it had served her well before that, meeting power with greater power even against Tuscan giants during her first trip through the High Pass.

Now, she found herself reaching more and more for the techniques that Thane had given her to use with one of the Vale of Mists’ heaviest weapons.

"Enough," Nyrielle said, holding up a hand and stopping the fight. "You’ve realized it," she said, smiling as she watched sweat pour from her lover’s brows while her chest heaved with deep breaths.

"Darksteel requires an aggressive style. Because the blade needs to drink in the blood of its enemies. Or it will consume the strength of its wielder," Ashlynn said between breaths. "Owain’s sword is the same. It pulls him forward, always on the offense. In the moment where he needs to switch between offense and defense, he’s vulnerable."

"You see?" Nyrielle said with a smile as she dismissed the weapons from the dream, stepping forward to brush aside a lock of hair that had become plastered to Ashlynn’s brow with sweat. "You already know more about Owain’s fighting methods than you thought," she said as she planted a light kiss on Ashlynn’s brow.

"Owain will attack your attacks rather than defending against them," Nyrielle said confidently. "With Mountain Breaker in his hands, he has no choice. He’s a talented swordsman with every reason to be confident, but when he faces you, he’ll be arrogant enough and impatient enough that he’ll fully commit to his assault."

"My opportunity lies in the counterattack," Ashlynn said, nodding in understanding. "When he’s fully committed and can’t recover, that’s when I need to make my move."

"Exactly so," Nyrielle said, wrapping her arms around her lover and gathering Ashlynn into a gentle embrace. "Now," she whispered into Ashlynn’s ear. "If you’ve had enough of sharpening yourself, we still have enough time to wash up together before your ’little sailing ship’ reaches Lothian. Come," she said, pulling Ashlynn toward the castle.

"Let me finish what I started with the massage..."