Chapter 7 Talent

The door slammed open. Its hinges were on their last legs and couldn’t take the abuse anymore, giving up and letting go of the door. Detaching from the doorframe, the door fell onto the floor, shaking the whole house. Sola stepped over the mess and inhaled deeply. “Wake up, soldier!” Sola yelled. The noise surprised Acero, making him sit straight up and look at Sola with wide, crusty eyes. Sola grinned at him and held up a peace sign. He felt that something was missing from his usual mornings. Furrowing his eyebrows, he concentrated. Finally, he realized what it was. The cacophony of metal that their neighbor made wasn’t there, the streets were silent. His eyes shot to the window, but the sun wasn’t out yet. “Good morning,” Sola greeted. Acero smashed his face onto the pillow and went back to sleep. “No, you won’t. I know you’re a growing boy and all, but you’ve slept enough already. It’s time for training,” she energetically said. He groaned in reply and hid his head under the pillow. “You leave me no choice,” she pulled the sheets off of him. “This could have been avoided, but your pride and ego cloud your judgment, my friend. You should’ve listened to me the first time!” She yelled menacingly. She posed and made noises with her mouth, pretending to charge up an attack. Grabbing one of his ankles, she tickled the bottom of his foot with her fingers. Acero grunted and squirmed. He twisted and tried to yank his leg out of Sola’s grip, but it was too strong. She continued to tickle his feet. It was too much for him to bear, making him lose control and go all out. He accidentally kicked her in the stomach, making her stop and let go of his ankle. Sola crumpled to the floor. “You should’ve stopped,” he said. “And you kick like a Donkey Lizard,” she groaned. “What’re you waking me up for anyway? I wasn’t listening,” he wasn’t groggy anymore. The tickling completely woke him up. “Narra said that he’d teach us about our powers. Or at least how to approach the learning part,” she clutched her stomach and hissed at the pain. “Do I even need to? I don’t think I’ll ever use that sword or be able to even carry it. Seems like a waste of time,” he complained. “Just get dressed and meet us at the yard,” she slowly making her way out of his room. He fell back on the bed and closed his eyes. No, he can’t go back to sleep anymore. The short man sat on top of a giant tree stump. It was bigger than their dining table and smooth like it was sanded down or cut in a single stroke. Sola placed a foot on it and stretched her legs. “Why are we doing it this early in the morning?” Acero asked. “Because I don’t want to do it after work,” Narra said. He didn’t want to do it either, just as much as him. “Let’s go!” Sola was the only one excited about the training. “Sit down in front of me, on the ground,” Narra pointed and sighed. The two teens sat cross-legged. Moisture from the grass penetrated through their pants, which only annoyed Acero even more. Slowly, the Sun made its way up, its edges peeking from afar. “Basics, basics, basics, ahem,” Narra started, struggling to remember. “Well, a common thing most Levelers think about when using their Concepts or their powers is imagining it as an invisible muscle. Exercise regularly and get stronger. The problem with that, though, is that eventually, hard work alone won’t work. Like muscles, they need to be trained with purpose and variety, like doing a different exercise,” he coughed and took a sip of water. He hasn’t talked that much in years. Sola raised her hand. “So, train hard and smart. How would we know what our Concept needs or how to train it?” “Well, I can’t say. For me, it was a gut feeling. It might have something to do with luck or not. You’ll know when you know, I guess.” Her shoulders slumped. “You’re telling us to wing it.” “Leveling is a very individual and personal journey, it’s different for everyone. Even if you inherit the same Concept as your parents. But someone with the same Concept would be a great help when leveling. Well-established clans and families tend to keep information and techniques within themselves, hiding them from the public. Information is the name of the game, and they intend to keep common folk from becoming a player. Also, all three of our Concepts differ greatly, especially Acero’s. Sola, I think you fall under the same category as me, you manipulate ai,r, and I, the trees.” “What category am I in?” Acero was starting to get curious. “Summoner. Usually, it’s pets and beasts. But I’ve met a few like you who summon inanimate objects. The last blacksmith this town had, the one before you two came, was a summoner ty,p e too. Pulled tools out of nowhere, like he had a personal assistant,” his throat was getting hoarse from all the talking. He downed the rest of his water and checked his watch. “Alright, one more hour before we start working. Go and use your powers. Get used to the feeling of using it. It’s also good to know how much you can use it.” Sola jumped up from the ground. “I prepared something that I wanted to try.” She ran to the stump and brought out a bag of used tin cans. She lined them up on top of the wooden fence and took a few paces back. “Hm, not a bad idea,” Narra mumbled. She took a deep breath and swung her arm like she was throwing a ball. The air was invisible, of course, but the gust of wind was small enough to only knock out 2 of the 6 cans in the middle. It was as strong as a light shove. “That was pretty accurate,” Acero praised. “Heh,” she was about to throw another on, but stopped herself. Her brows furrowed; her eyes blanked; it was like her mind was temporarily somewhere else. After a while, she came back and her eyes widened. Sola took on a fighting stance, fists beside her jaw and her feet spread shoulder width apart. She flicked her arm forward, a light jab. Only one target got hit by the gust of wind. “She might be a prodigy,” Narra said, impressed. “Wow.” She continued her strikes, alternating her strikes from left to right. After the 13th consecutive shot, she crashed to the ground on all fours, retching and panting. Acero rushed to her side and patted her back. “So around 15 shots of wind that’s less effective than a punch in a row, that’s your limit for now. It’d be less if you increased the power, probably. Very good,” Narra said. Sola wiped her face. “Your turn, bud,” she said to Acero and walked to where Narra was. “Alright.” He took a deep breath and willed it to appear in front of him, not above him. A gray dust cloud appeared near his face. The broken tip of the sword emerged from it, descending into the ground with a heavy thunk. He had to take a few steps back, in case it fell again. Its blade was as wide as his body, it could cover him completely if he stood next to it. It had a long metal handle with a circular weight as a pommel, which looked like the ones used in old dumbbells, nearly as big as his fist. The dust cloud disappeared after it fully formed. A few inches over six feet, it stood taller than even Sola. It was covered in dirt and rust. The blade was less than a blade and more of a metal plate, dull. Scattered all over it were hammer marks, making it look unfinished. It was guardless, but there was a circular object where a guard would be on a regular sword. The thing looked like a two-sided buckler welded onto it. Everything about it was gigantic, as if it weren’t made for human use in mind. “When you said it was big, I wasn’t imagining it to be this big,” Narra said. “Why would your parents have you inherit this? Seems unusable.” “Maybe one of them was an artist and this was like a statue or something,” Sola suggested. “Don’t think anyone would buy it from me,” Acero said. His head felt weird after summoning itas if his senses were dulled. “Okay, let’s see your limits,” Sola said. He nodded and walked a few steps away from the sword. The sun was up now, and its rays were starting to reach them. It cast eerily long shadows that always irked Acero whenever he saw them. Extending his hand out again, he tried to summon it with the handle appearing on his palm. His hands were engulfed in the cloud, but it didn’t harm him, nor did he feel anything from it. Another cloud of dust appeared on the actual sword, and it disappeared from its previous spot as it appeared in his hands. The process itself didn’t take more than two seconds, but this one felt slower to him. The sword appeared in his hand and dragged him down, the blade sank into the ground again. He let go of it before it made him fall. With hands on his knees, he felt exhausted and his mind foggy. He raised his head and looked at them. Something touched his lips. Wiping away at it with his hand, he checked what it was. Blood; His nose was bleeding. He crashed to the ground next to his sword shortly after.