A New Light (The Astral Wanderer Book 1), D'Artagnan Rey [best romantic novels to read .TXT] 📗

pushing his Anima out like this was a risk to him and Vaust’s felt so much more powerful, he did not seem concerned at all. The thought was intriguing but it was probably best to not dwell on that.

After he decreased the expanse of his Anima to the point where it felt like it only surrounded his immediate area, he opened his eyes fully and shook his joints to test them. He still felt good and remained strong. The last time he had experienced something this exciting was the first time he had properly accomplished Vis. He looked at Vaust, who nodded in approval.

“Congratulations. You successfully used Vita in combination with Anima.”

“Is that tricky or something?” Devol asked, his gaze focused on the taller Magi.

His companion nodded. “Certainly more so than simply using it with Mana. It is a useful skill, as when your Anima is out you are protected and stronger. But, as you felt for yourself, it tends to draw attention. Being able to use Vita to control your Anima so that you don’t overuse it and even to hide it in certain situations is quite useful.”

“Oh, okay.” He nodded and held his fists up. “So I can use Vis and Vello in combination with Anima as well?”

“Indeed you can, although it will take a while to get used to it.” The mori folded his arms. “We have a little more time. I can show you something a little more practical if you like.”

“Sure,” Devol agreed and placed his fists together. “I’m ready.”

Vaust grinned and extended an arm toward the cave. “I hope so.” An object hurtled toward him from within their shelter and he caught it in his open hand.

The boy watched as he unwrapped a black cloth from around the item and stared when he held something up in the moonlight. It appeared to be a weapon of some kind with a curved blade of darkened metal and a zig-zag pattern embossed on either side of the blade. It was attached to a black rod a little longer than Devol’s arm, and golden rings jingled at the bottom where white leather binding acted as a handle.

“What is that?” he asked as he admired it. The metal glittered both hauntingly and beautifully under the moonlight.

The mori slipped his fingers into the rings at the bottom of the weapon and spun it a few times. “This is a kama,” he stated, flipped it, and snatched it by the handle. “Or, rather, that is what the weapon is called. This is my majestic.”

“You have one too?” he asked.

His companion nodded “This one was passed down to me when I earned the rank of archon in my realm. I kept it after I departed as a…keepsake.”

“They are special, right? It doesn’t seem like the kind of thing one simply gives away.”

“I didn’t mention it when I left.” Vaust chuckled and rested the kama on his shoulder. “So, what do you know about exotics?”

“Oh, that’s an easy one,” Devol said. “Exotics are weapons that are made with special materials and magical enhancements like runes and incantations. There are different types and varieties and each has a unique property that can be accessed by trained Magi. My father has a very special one, and all the guardsman get an exotic gladius as recruits—or one of three or four other weapons.”

“Correct again,” the elder Magi affirmed. “But even the rarest and most powerful of exotics can pale in comparison to majestics. With exotics, almost anyone can use one and the user will imbue it with Mana as an energy source. The majestic is connected to the user themselves and not everyone is capable of wielding one. In fact, it can be rather dangerous for someone who cannot resonate with a majestic to use it.”

“So my sword is connected to me?” he asked. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“It means you need to be careful,” Vaust warned and his tone grew more serious. “Majestics are more than the weapons or objects they appear to be. They are powerful and very few weapons can survive even a clash with one. But should they become damaged, they will injure their users as well.”

“What?” He gasped and wished he had known that before setting off. Without a doubt, he would have brought an extra sword to use instead.

The Magi began to twirl his kama. “It’s something to keep in mind. But each majestic also has a unique power—one that even the greatest Magi cannot learn or bring forth themselves, although many have tried.”

“Can you tell what mine does?” the curious boy asked.

Vaust shook his head. “Not without a demonstration. Although I’m sure someone at the order can answer those questions.” He rested the kama against his shoulder. “We could keep talking but I assume you prefer a demonstration?”

Devol’s eyes lit up. “You’re right!” He extended his arm toward the cave and within seconds, the sword that seemed to have chosen him so mysteriously streaked into his hand.

“Impressive Vello control,” the Mori said and tapped the base of his kama. “But I didn’t intend for us to spar.”

“You didn’t?” he asked, having already partially unsheathed the blade.

His companion chuckled. “If you wish to, we can.” He pointed his weapon toward the boy. “But understand that there is a limit to how much I can hold back. Myazma is only so tame.”

“Myazma?” He looked at the kama. “You named your weapon?”

“Technically, I renamed it. The original name was from an old mori tongue and translating it was more along the lines of a poem than a real name. I searched through the common tongue and this seemed more fitting.” He turned the weapon to the side as he and his young opponent locked gazes. “Are you ready?”

Devol held the sword in both hands and drew a deep breath as he assumed a battle stance. Even with Vaust’s warning, the thrill of combat was overtaking him. “When you are.”

The mori nodded, unmoving. “Very well. Come at me.”

His Mana flared and