The city of Balaras, Day 75 of the siege.

Due to the very length of the siege, for the past week, Mayor Yasnar had ruled that food was to be rationed. Such policy, coupled with the trickle of supplies coming in from the outlying farms and the willingness of some city defenders to fast at alternate days, helped to keep Balaras standing amidst renewed attempts of Varastrians (as the Arendan rebels became known at this point) to 'unify' Sigista Island under their rule.

Senna, meanwhile, had started on her way together with her sole agent Resna to try and infiltrate the town of Ardis--and therein garner what support they can to topple Mahan Varastra's regime. Due to the sheer distance involved, however, routine reports of their activities beyond very concise lines delivered by messenger-pigeons were practically out of the question.

Be that as it may, for Vlos, the situation was personally improving. Apart from his regular flying exercises, he was now training at infrequent intervals on how to wield steel short swords, spears, bow-and-arrow (partly in memory of his late father), and maces; but not yet the spiked morningstar. In the week following Senna's departure, the princeling had learned five types of strokes and that many wielding-styles for the short sword alone.

"What a pity," he said to his mother following a private supper that day, "that there's simply not enough space around here to hone my skills on horse-archery. Nor is there anyone with enough guts to teach me that..."

Lista blinked. "Horse-archery?"

"Yeah. You know, shooting arrows from a running horse?"

"I know what that means, young man. Your father once told me about it. Just... why would you want to train on that, and at this age?"

"Well, it's written in the books that shooting from a galloping horse has staggering effects on foes, if one can shoot exactly at the proper time that is. What's more, it's something that even vampires cannot perform in the midst of a flight, so it must be decisive in battles... I hope Uncle would be kind enough to teach me, once we manage to return to Elbar."

"So it seems," Lista replied, "but such power is certainly not without risks, my dear."

"How so, my lady?"

"You may or may not have realized this, but horse-archery consists of two distinct yet closely-related abilities: mastery of the horse, and that of the bow as well. For the second, you're only beginning to learn. As for the first... well, you might recall your brief equestrian taste on your father's watch. How did it feel like?"

"I only dared to ride at canter then," Vlos admitted, recalling. "As for a full gallop, let alone aiming and shooting arrows at that speed at moving targets... now, that would be crazily scary."

Lista laughed openly, one of the very rare occasions she dared to do so given her new station.

"Cheer up, o my Lion that is already showing his mane. Ours is not the only House seeking to exist and fulfill its aspirations in this part of the mainland, do you know? There are so many out there, each with different and unique trades and specialties. One of these days, perhaps, you will learn to recognize the thrill and delight as the arrow that you've launched after a period of intent focus has actually hit the mark, even as you ride by the winds on the verdant plains. Why, you might even do so alongside someone whom you love and who will love you. Oh, how I would love to witness such moments!

"For now, dear Prince Vlos Husniris, we must continue this fasting. We must continue to pray. We must remain steadfast before these odds, as we had been for these seventy-four days, each of them with beautiful memories that we might want to keep, or discard, at will."

The boy blinked in awe and wonder. "Since when did you become this poetic, Mom?"

"Since I learned to compose poems for your uncle, these past few weeks. See how he'd like that." Lista smiled, imagining his blushing face for some time as he received her private masterpiece. "Have you heard of his field victory against some of the Elbarian traitors, perchance?"

Vlos perceptibly beamed. "That true?! But... how did you come to know this? I thought the seas are still teeming with raiders..."

"Ways would be provided for those who persevere," came the reply. "Some of our more daring merchants had sailed to Elbar to try and procure some food and other necessities during one of the lulls in the raids, and by the Infinite One's Grace had made it home again safely with their lives and wares. The word first came from a certain Idris Asirta, a crew member on one of those ships, who passed it to Mayor Yasnar, who then told me as I went to ask of him for another poem book just two days ago."

"I see. If part of the areas around Elbar had really been recaptured, we might just have some chance to prevail here as well! Then we could sail back home to pray more properly for Dad, by the Infinite One's Grace!"

"Indeed. Senna is striving to that end for all of us, so let's now pray for her as well, that her path to victory be eased and secured."

"Grant it be so, o Infinite One."

***

The next day.

"Too slow! Again!"

"Hyah!" the princeling yelled with renewed vigor as he lunged forward with his wooden sword--masterfully fashioned to look like a real one--aiming for a side slash at Hnakir, who stepped aside smoothly at the last minute while tapping his disciple lightly on the back.

The boy had been given to understand that the type of sword they used would determine if this was a serious training for improvement's sake, or simply another form of martial recreation. That day it was the latter case.

"Aah~ there, that move again!" Vlos fumed through his panting and sweating. "When are you going to fight me for real, Hnakir?!"

The instructor smiled knowingly. "My prince, had I not fought you for real just four days ago, not to mention with steel swords? Even then you continued stubbornly to press me despite appeals."

"Hmph! You're just being modest. Had your opponent not been a kid like me, you might have displayed a much different way of fighting... right?"

"That saddens you in any way, sir?"

He thought about it. "I don't know... I just have this impression that people are holding back due to my tender age, and because I'm a son to the late monarch. Say, have you ever tried training with my dad or uncle?"

"My modest rank would not ordinarily permit me such an honor, sir, but your uncle did allow me once. Then I had this same uneasy feeling..."

"What was that?"

"That he was holding back. I could not understand why he would go this far with a mere captain... yes, much like you do now."

Vlos put his weapon back to the simple unadorned scabbard tied around his waist, wiped his sweating face with the back of one hand, then crossed his arms. "Was that truly the case, I wonder?"

Hnakir relaxed his stance. "Well, at the end of it he had said simply, 'You're way better than even my brother in this regard'. I wasn't sure if he was complimenting or jeering at me, but then again your uncle was never a man whose thoughts could be so easily fathomed. So? Would you want to call it a day, sir?"

"May I, really?"

"When facing an adversary that has lost his will to pull through, you could either pull away or pull it off, depending on the situation, and be ready for the consequences. Which way is it going to be, now?"

The Lion of Balaras huffed in exasperation. "The former! But before you leave, do you think you can pit me against someone who is more or less my own size? Might feel more lively that way."

Hnakir, having sheathed his own weapon, now tilted his head at such request.

"You're sure about this?"

"Do I look like I'm not?"

"Let's see. I do know of one who would gladly jump on such a challenge if you could provide for a worthy prize... He's older than you by three years; but if that's not a problem per se, then I shall acquaint you, sir, to the eldest son of Ukara Velandis. What say you?"

"Lead on. Let's hope he'll not slink at the 'prince' bit, eh?"