P.S. 1 – Chapter 41.9

On a normal day, the Verglas sparring grounds saw not even a breeze. But normal days had gone out the window, and a gentle breeze constantly flowed towards the estate, as Red drew in mana for his experiments. Aoife was quite happy with it all. First of, because it meant he wasn't holding back anymore. He got to study and improve, figuring out ways to help people actually worthy of his loyalty. And second, because the cooling breeze felt really nice as it touched her sweat-covered skin.

The current set of knights being trained were from the eastern part of the dukedom. Ones that had barely seen any combat during the war, their main foe being bandits that had tried to profit by plundering Verglas supply lines. Most of those bandits had met their demise, so this group did have what it took. But they still didn't really understand, because they had never truly experienced what it was like to fight the Flameheart army.

At least they had noticed the constant ambient mana flow, understanding what it meant. Gulping in secret when they were informed that was all the doing of one man. And that both the Margrave and their Duchess could do far worse. But again, they only knew, they didn't understand.

It was a good thing she was handling the training. Red knew a lot of techniques, could study people and help them improve, then Eirwen would add her notes and the two would spiral in a feedback cycle where they kept building on each other's ideas. But when it came to teaching lessons, he still slipped back into his wartime role of commander a lot. An iron fist that taught harsh lessons. It was a weakness he wanted to resolve, but he knew that would take time.

He did have a good point that sometimes, one should experience things. But he was a bit hard-handed in his approach. She'd take a kinder one.

"Alright, time to practice your control. Form a circle around me. While you try to hold blade and shield together, I'll draw in mana. Keep doing the same moves and make sure to keep your techniques stable."

She began to draw in mana herself, grounding it through her bones into the soil underneath. The gentle breeze changed direction as it picked up. Over at the forge, she sensed Red making slight tweaks to his own usage, so that their storms didn't hinder each other. And in the air around her, she could feel Eirwen's presence, a subtle change that indicated detailed attention. Her eyes shot at the place she felt Eirwen observe her from. For a few counts, Eirwen's presence felt comforting, encouraging, before it withdrew.

Aoife turned her attention back at the knights, providing feedback to their usage. She increased her usage faster than was wise, but it did its job, disrupting the knights their techniques, making clear why a flaming berserker needed a cold blade to be stopped. If all went well, they never would need to do so, but there were plenty of smaller tribes left where flame users were arrogant enough to pick a fight. Who knew when the next ambitious person would rise, like the first Flameheart had over a century ago.

Unlike her darlings, Aoife hadn't been constantly keeping her emotions under cloak the past years. It made it easier for her to tell the impact the flame usage had on her. It was maddening. If she hadn't known ways to safely let go of that madness, relieve it, she wouldn't have dared use this much herself. But she knew she would be fine. Nobody could truly deny her lovers were mad, but they wielded it well. And that too they had taught her, keeping her madness leashed rather than confined.

She switched to a more aggressive spar, forcing the knights to defend against her techniques. Settling her urge to fight for now, helping her suppress her hunger. But tonight, she'd make sure to steal her fair share of kisses from them, enough so that for a moment she'd believe she actually did belong with them.

A mental squeeze touched her, two consciousnesses reaching out to her. They knew her too well. Encouraging her every time she threatened to sink into self-loathing. She wanted to doubt them, but she would rather believe the lie and suffer, than hurt them through rejection. Mental kisses on her cheeks, then they both withdrew to their respective jobs. She smiled, then continued showing the knights what a true berserker felt like.