Page 144 of Sword & Shadow
“I only figured it out recently,” Ethenn said. “It was when you mentioned the feeling you get when you fight. Only, I still wasn’t sure because...well, because it’s different for me. Or—maybe not different, but it’s...compulsory.”
Evylin wondered at that term.
“And,” Ethenn added, interrupting her thoughts, “not as strong, I don’t imagine. Though it’s getting stronger.”
That made Evylin pause another moment longer. “I know what you mean,” she said at last. “My whole life, training with—with Hewitt, I experienced the rush, but not in the same way as now. It wasn’t until we saved Prince Ephren that I truly felt it.”
Ethenn nodded. “I felt it then too.”
“So...” Evylin let the word hang as she came to conclusions. “Likely, we never felt it before because we never needed magic to that extent before, which is why Warriors may never realize their magic in the first place. If we aren’t put in a true battle, we don’t have a true need for it.”
Ethenn shifted his weight, head tilting thoughtfully. “So we can only access our magic in life-or-death situations?”
Evylin shook her head. “No, I’ve now found myself using it many times in daily life,” she said, not bothering to mention that Deckard’s touch could spur her access to the magic. In fact, her first notable experience with the sensation had been during their kiss in Wayford, well before they rescued the prince.
Ignoring those thoughts and the feelings they stirred, Evylin returned to the topic at hand. “It isn’t the dire circumstances that drive us to use our magic,” she explained, “it’s the focus required of us in those times. In a fight, we have no choice but toconcentrate on the moment at hand. We’re attuned to our magic because we’re open to it. Just like when we watched the camp yesterday. We focused on extending our vision and hearing, and thus, we tapped into our magic.”
“Like when I tracked you in Dunneshead,” Ethenn murmured.
Evylin furrowed her brow. “You tracked me?”
“Yeah.” Ethenn’s ears turned pink. “When the colonel and I were looking, I was able to, uh—to pick up your scent. It’s something I’ve always been able to do during a hunt. I just didn’t realize it was a Warrior thing until—well, until now.”
Despite the oddity of the revelation, Evylin pursed her lips with approval. “I never would have thought of that. But yes, that’s a perfect example of what we can do. When we access our magic, our senses become superhuman. It’s as though the world becomes brighter, louder, stronger... Everything is clearer.”
Ethenn nodded enthusiastically. “The world is sharper. You feel connected to it.”
“Exactly.” Evylin smiled, awed at having someone understand her experience so fully. “Focus is the trick. We have to hone our thoughts, concentrating on our task, to feel that connection.”
The lesson reminded Evylin of her youth and training with Hewitt. He’d always taught her that focus was the key to victory. Calming your mind, finding your center—that was how you won a duel. People overcomplicated swordsmanship, he’d said. It wasn’t about being the strongest or most cunning. It was knowing the blade itself and trusting your body to do the job. You didn’t overthink it. You simply lived as one with the sword.
“How do you practice that?” Ethenn asked, breaking through her memories.
Letting Hewitt’s training speak through her, Evylin replied, “By knowing what you want.”
Ethenn’s eyebrows lowered in confusion.
Evylin chuckled and pulled out a dagger. She was surprised when she looked down and saw that she’d unconsciously drawn the one that had belonged to Deckard. She brushed her thumb along the rosettes on the pommel. Then she tossed it in the air, flipping it end over end. As it began its second rotation, she caught the hilt upside down in her left hand and lunged, pressing the blade to Ethenn’s neck. The series of movements occurred in the span of a half-second.
Eyes wide, Ethenn stared at her.
“You don’t practice aimlessly, Ethenn,” Evylin said, pulling the dagger back. “You know what you want, and you visualize it. Then you do it.”
“That’s an oversimplification,” Ethenn said, though he was smiling.
Evylin raised her brow playfully. “That’s being a Warrior. We don’t seem to have the constraints normal people have. We focus—we get a picture in our mind, and we act on it.”
She slipped the dagger into the sheath on her belt. “The problem comes when focusing isn’t easy. From what Auden has told me and what I’ve observed, it seems that Warriors are predisposed to finding and holding their focus in a fight, but I can tell you from personal experience that you can’t rely on that. Once that focus is lost...”
Memories of the Water Keep flooded Evylin’s mind. The feeling of her feet slipping from under her; water soaking to her bones as she drowned; fear distorting her mind as she faced Blount; anger rising at the revelation that the Calders had lied. And more than all those other things, the grief of losing Hewitt was ever looming at the back of her mind.
“It’s hard to recover from that,” she murmured.
Blinking away her thoughts, Evylin forced herself to smile at Ethenn. “That’s why you need to know your weaknesses,” she concluded.
“How’s that?” Ethenn asked.
“If you know your weaknesses,” she explained, “you can be prepared for any circumstance.”
