The Oracle

    “It’s no use!” Catisa sighed and slumped her shoulders, “At least when I could cast spells I was useful, but now I’m just a burden to everyone.”

    “Come on with that,” Her partner interrupted her and placed her hands on her hips like a scolding parent. “I told you that my training will tolerate no negativity! Besides, you’re getting closer every time. Give it another shot!” Dairon took her stance with her blade raised, an old soldier’s sword and a relic from her past that Catisa had only seen when she was training or meditating. Her movements always mesmerized her when she did manage to see it, so fluid and graceful like a swan at the center of a still lake on a warm and sunny afternoon.

    Catisa’s grip tightened around the hilts of the blades as she nodded and readied herself once more, repeating the steps and movements taught to her as the basics of swordplay. Mentally she counted off the forms and attempted strikes, uniform and executed to near perfection as the woman would have it no other way. Ever since her changes she had been unable to cast a spell, despite the Director working with her extensively. This was her only way of ensuring she could take care of herself when they delved into the inevitable dangers they always faced.

    Despite her partner’s lessons she found herself drawing upon her frustration, she used it to focus her strikes, one after another missed and her anger grew. She would not be useless, she refused to be dead weight confined to the walls of the Estate and helpless to save her friends in need. Just then she felt the vibration of metal on metal like a chill through her arm and was caught off guard by the strained expression of her partner and the audible clang.

    The mage drew back, shocked as she regarded her and exclaimed, “Are you alright?!” To which Dairon simply smirked and nodded.

    “Why did you choose those blades?” She asked Catisa after a moment of thought.

    “Well, I’ve never really been that strong so I figured lighter weapons would suit me and I doubt I could withstand the force of someone slamming down on a shield.” She offered with a helpless shrug, “Why?”

    “Wait here.” Dairon instructed and left the puzzled woman to stand in the courtyard while she disappeared into the armory. Moments later she reappeared with an immense broadsword and held it out for Catisa to take. “You’re stronger than you think.”

    “Wha- I-” She started to protest and held her hand out to take the hilt, when suddenly Dairon let it go. The weight of the haft that hit her palm was surprisingly light as her fingers instinctively wrapped around the leather handgrip and she stood stunned. Catisa held the blade up with ease as her partner stepped back and allowed her to swing it about to get a feel for it. The weight registered with her, she felt the density of the object in hand, but what surprised her most was that she now had the strength to wield it. Before she was frozen she wouldn’t have even been able to lift such a thing let alone heft it about as though it were an illusion.