A Bored Lich

Jameson looked at Doevm, who walked next to him, down the mansion's stairs. 'Should I say something?' They made it to the bottom of the stairs and continued through the hallway. Jameson kept his face like stone, not daring to look away from his destination. 'What do I say? I barely know anything about him.' A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. He forced his neck to turn to face Doevm and his mouth to open. "So…how was the weather at the front lines?"

"Hot and humid," Doevm responded. They walked out of the mansion.

Jameson wanted to rip his heart out of his chest so he didn't have to feel it pounding. His rusty joints tightened. The walk out of the mansion's front yard might as well been a walk across the country. He felt his face wrinkle and his hair grey. "Did you meet anyone?"

"In the heat of battle, romantic relations aren't my focus."

'You're nearly fifteen,' Jameson thought. 'How are you not thinking of girls at that age? Should I talk about myself? How do I go about interacting with him?' He took a deep breath. "So all of those books in the library, do you still remember any of them?"

"All." They were halfway to the Pit.

"That's great." Jameson barely clung onto subject. "Which one was your favorite." Time went from a snail to a charging Lava Boar.

Doevm put a hand to his chin as his eyes darted random places. "If I had to choose…" They made it to the Pit's entrance. "Maybe history of Draken capital?"

"I've actually read that one, my favorite part is-"

Doevm shrugged and picked up a training spear. "So what are you going to teach me today?"

'I guess he just wants to train and leave, not that I can blame him.' Jameson suppressed a sigh and picked up a training spear: "Let's just see how much you've grown today. I need a test before I can gauge how to train you."

Doevm brought out his blue life essence and held his spear up: "I've only gotten a bit stronger. Ready?"

"Ready." Jameson brought out his silver life essence. The two circled each other with Doevm searching for weaknesses. They circled each other again, and again, and again. "Are you planning to make me dizzy by-" He ducked under Doevm's spear. "Tricky little sh-" Doevm's spear flew again, only meeting a few strands of hair. Jameson smiled and pushed his spear forward, taking care not to break Doevm's ribs. The boy bounced off the wall and coughed up some spit. "I see you can at least defend yourself with life essence…and are still ruthless as ever." Jameson slowly closed the distance, allowing Doevm to regain his breath. "You won't find any openings. Just fight."

Doevm's smile was as fleeting as his spear, stabbing at Jameson's vitals. No matter where he aimed, he never hit. Every once and a while Jameson would redirect the blow but stuck to jumping around. The "match" lasted for eight minutes until Doevm couldn't hold his spear any longer. While he chugged a water sac, Jameson shook his head. "You are great at counters and dodging, but you have no offense. It's like you were never planning on hitting me."

"That's because I can't hit you," Doevm complained in between mouthfuls. Water dripped down his sweaty chin. "And you're stronger."

Jameson shook his head. "And what if an opponent was lower than you in strength but better at technique? What would you do then?"

"Overpower him," Doevm gasped as he calmed his breathing.

"With what?" Jameson asked. "Swinging your spear around? You have technique, but you don't know how to use your strength offensively. Even if you're stronger than your opponent, if you can't hit them, you can't win." He helped Doevm up. "Even back when you fought Frey, you never hit him with an offensive move. All you used were counters or tricks."

He took a few steps back, widening the gap between them: "With spearplay, you need to control the ground, the center. Around us, imagine circles like these." He pointed at the circles drawn on the ground which he stood in the center of. "Stand at the edge." Doevm did as he was told, getting in a stance at the center.

"This is the edge of my range." Jameson swung, grazing Doevm's cheek. "Is that correct?" Doevm scrunched his eyebrows together and nodded. "Wrong." Jameson changed his stance and the spear swept past Doevm's head. "This is the advantage of a spear: you control the range. You can reach farther than anyone else. A spear is meant to strike first, not to wait and counter." He switched his stance, getting back at the center. "From here it looks like I can't reach you, but I haven't stepped back at all. If I shift my weight," He swept the spear inches from Doevm's face again. "I can hit you. You might think of yourself as weak, but the spear, in your hands, is strong. Use it like a weapon."

Doevm got into a stance: "I think I get what you mean. How should I go about offensive moves?"

Jameson shifted his weight, putting his hips back and his spear forward. "We'll start with the jabs and swings. In the opponent's view, they should see the spear's tip as barely moving while the spear shaft itself flips around." He demonstrated several moves. "But that's false. The tip and the shaft move as one. The shaft is a staff, used for defense and adjustment, while the spear tip is used for offense." He turned sideways while he went over a routine. "While this isn't exactly advanced knowledge, not everyone notices it at first. For now, we'll practice thrusts with moving the shaft more. By the end, you should mainly feel tired at the shoulders and thighs." He moved in, engaging in the spar.

Three hours later, Doevm lay on the ground, bruised and battered. His clothes were covered in a layer of sweat. Three empty water sacs lay against the wall. His wooden spear had dents in it, unable to withstand his blue life essence. Jameson stood up, wiping a little layer of perspiration off his arm. "I must be getting either old or rusty, or both." He looked down at Doevm. "Good job today."

Before walking out of the Pit, he stopped himself. Taking a deep breath, he turned around and asked, "Do you have any questions?" Doevm shook his head. "I see." It was like the fatigue from training had just hit him. His arm didn't move as fast when he lay his spear against the wall. He was surprised that when he sighed, dust didn't blow out. He looked at his hands, calloused and worked. 'He's going to get stronger than me someday. After that, he won't need me anymore.' Biting his lip, he said, "Then, I'll be going now." He wasn't tired, but he was slow to exit. 'Maybe I am getting old. Maybe I am too late.'

"Wait," Doevm called. He stabilized his breathing enough so his words wouldn't slur. "I do have a couple questions." He staggered up, taking a few moments to swallow his vomit back down. "Mostly about the knights academy." He walked to the wall and sat against it, leaving a trail of sweat as he slid his back down to the corner.

"What do you want to know about that place?" Jameson walked back inside, his strength returning to him.

"Everything," Doevm said as he lay his spear on the ground. "I've been fighting a war for a year to enter it. The least I should know is what it's for. Information is always good to have."

Jameson put a hand to his chin: "The academy, that's something I have a lot of experience with. I don't even know where to begin. I…thinking back to the academy just brings back so many memories. Do you really want to know more about it?"

"Yes," Doevm nodded. "I want to hear everything you went through."

"Ok then," Jameson sat next to Doevm, his old knees creaking as he did. "I'll start with the spear, you know, the one I gave you. Out of everything, my most proud memory is earning it. When I joined…" Memories he had forgotten about resurfaced. His boring life of training turned from a simple exercise to a journey. Doevm smiled and nodded as he listened.

'Oh,' Jameson thought as he rambled on. 'Reginald, this must be what you were telling me about.' The day passed without them knowing. Doevm frequently interrupted, but only to ask about various questions about the city. Jameson answered them all. Doevm looked a lot less like a soldier, and more like a kid, curious about the world. 'Maybe it's not too late. Maybe I'm not some boring old man.'

One year ago...

It was night when Reginald heard something moving in his mansion. He drew the dagger under his bed. Knowing the guards would never let someone in, he checked Thomas's room. Upon finding he was safe; he followed the source of the noise to the library. Looking through the keyhole, he discovered Jameson, hovering over a pile of books. A small, dim light crystal hung in front of him.

Jameson flipped the page and mumbled, "History of the court system." He sighed and looked at the ceiling. "Why would you read something as boring as this?" Pulling his head back down, his eyes moved left to right. "I don't get any of this!" He groaned and shut the book. "Reginald, did I wake you?"

Reginald blinked and walked through the door. "Yeah. You scared the crap out of me." He holstered the dagger. "What are you doing up so late?"

"Reading." Jameson said as he pushed the book to the edge of the desk. "Doevm read through all of these, didn't he?" Reginald nodded as Jameson opened the book back up.

"I thought you hated court etiquette," Reginald said as he gazed at the titles piled on the desk. "How often have you been doing this?"

"A while." Jameson flipped the page. "I'll try to be quiet in the future. Just go back to sleep."

"I got it," Reginald walked to the doorway and stopped. "Ever since you told Thomas about his mother and he confronted me, things have been a lot smoother between me and him. Maybe after he gets back, you should just talk to him. Good night." He went back to bed.

Jameson yawned and flipped the page. "I know that. I just...want to know why he's fascinated by all of these kinds of things. Seriously, what the heck is some of this. It's like a different language. Fighting is so much simpler. I don't understand any of this."

It was dark in the room. His body was tired from constantly fighting and training. His eyelids still had strength so he kept them open. The tidal wave of books threatened to drown him as he sat in the middle of them all. In the silent room, the page turning was like a sword being drawn. He looked at the shelves which contained titles he had yet to read. "I've got time. Plenty of time."

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