The Spirit Rebellion

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Authors: Rachel Aaron
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weight, as though he’d been holding it like that for a long, long time. Then, without warning, Josef pulled the blade back and swung. The enormous sword moved lightning fast, almost too fast for Eli’s eyes to keep up with it, flying toward the thin trunk of a sapling. Just before it hit, the blade stopped with a whistle of terrified air, its notched,dull edge quivering less than a hair’s width from the sapling’s smooth white bark. The tree creaked and shuddered, dropping a snow of tiny, white-green leaves to join the growing pile at its base.
    “It’s a good thing Slorn’s on the other side,” Eli said, taking a seat next to Nico. “I don’t think he’d like you scaring his trees naked.”
    Josef pulled back the Heart to its first position. “Daily training is the breath of swordsmanship.”
    “Profound,” Eli said. “But can’t you breathe on something less excitable?”
    Josef lowered his sword and looked at him. “Do you mind?”
    Eli shrugged and leaned back on the warm stone, watching in silence as Josef prepared to take another swing. As the swordsman moved, Eli couldn’t help but notice how Joseph’s injuries seemed to be dragging on him. Though Josef never flinched or showed any sign of pain, there was a hitch in his movements at the point in the swing when his arm stretched too far, a certain pause in his steady breaths that made Eli supremely uncomfortable.
    “Josef,” he said hesitantly, “we’re going to be here for another day at least; why don’t you take a break? Enjoy the scenery or something?”
    “I am enjoying it,” Josef said as he swung his sword again at the poor, terrified sapling.
    “Why are you training so hard, anyway?” Eli said. “Don’t most swordsmen let their old wounds heal before they start prepping to get their next ones? You beat Coriano. Can’t you let it go for just a little bit?”
    Josef stopped midswing and plunged the Heart into the sandy creek bed.
    “Eli,” he said, leaning hard on the hilt of his sword, “do you know how I beat Coriano?”
    Slightly taken aback, Eli guessed, “Thoroughly?”
    “I used the Heart,” Josef said, nodding to the blade. “So, though he is dead and I am alive, I lost. It was the Heart who beat him, not me.”
    “But the Heart can’t move without you,” Eli pointed out.
    “Don’t mistake the Heart’s power for mine,” Josef said bitterly. He straightened up, pulling the blade out of the sand and returning it to first position. “All my life, I’ve had one goal: to push myself as far as I can go. To be the strongest I can be. If I let the Heart win all my battles for me, then what’s the point of even holding a sword?”
    The question didn’t require an answer, and Eli didn’t offer one. Point made, Josef turned his attention back to his sword, preparing for the next swing. Seeing that any further conversation was pointless, Eli shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back toward the house in search of breakfast.
    An hour later he was bathed, dressed, and helping himself to a plate of fruit, bread, and whatever else he could find in Slorn’s pantry when Josef and Nico finally came in. The girl took a seat on one of the stools along the wall, but Josef walked straight through the kitchen to the large water barrel, grabbing a bucket from the shelf as he passed. He dipped the bucket in the barrel, filling it to the brim with the cold water and, after a bracing breath, proceeded to dump the whole thing over his head. Eli jumped back with a yelp, dancing away from the flying water as Josef gave himself a shake.
    “You’re a wonderful houseguest, you know that?” Elisaid, wiping the water off the table. Josef just shrugged and helped himself to an apple from Eli’s plate. He leaned against the heavy wooden table as he ate, staring through the window. Outside, Slorn was still standing in his circle of sewing materials, his bear head warped to monstrous size by the wobbly glass.
    “He gives me the

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