Training Under the Sun
Meanwhile, at the house, the children were sitting in the backyard. Percy seemed completely absorbed in the storybook his brother had brought him, reading with contagious enthusiasm. He was so happy he couldn't stop smiling; it was the first time he could understand everything without feeling dizzy from the amount of text. He even seemed to remember every word from start to finish.
Harry, seeing him so excited, smiled as well.
Still thrilled after finishing the children's story, Percy lifted his gaze toward his brother and asked,
"What does the sun smell like?"
"Eh?" Harry looked at him, confused. Then he raised his eyes toward the sky, where the sun shone at its highest point. "Does the sun even have a smell?"
"It says here it smells like sunshine and flowers," replied Percy, opening the book and pointing at the paragraph that said so. Even though he understood the words, he didn't quite grasp their meaning. But when he saw his brother's equally confused expression, he felt a bit relieved.
Both boys fell silent, deep in thought, trying to imagine what the sun could possibly smell like. Percy even stood up and began sniffing the air, but all he caught were the familiar scents around him: grass, earth, and… maybe a bit of sweat. He frowned, sniffed his own shirt, and realized the smell came from him—he'd been exercising earlier.
"Maybe we should get closer to the sun," said Percy, his eyes lighting up with inspiration.
"And how exactly do we do that?" asked Harry, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.
Percy realized he hadn't thought that far ahead, so he looked around for an idea… until his gaze stopped on the roof of the house.
"I've got it!" he exclaimed, before dragging his brother toward the shed.
A few minutes later, both came out carrying a ladder they could barely lift. They propped it against the wall of the house with effort, ready to climb.
But before either could set a foot on the first rung, they felt a tug on the back of their shirts.
There was Mor, watching them with a mix of tiredness and sternness, though a faint smile betrayed her exasperation.
"Why do you always come up with stupidly dangerous ideas the moment no one's watching you?" she said, gently setting them back on the ground. Then she pointed at the ladder, which began to shrink magically until it was barely a meter tall. Even if the boys tried to climb it and fell, they wouldn't get hurt.
"We just want to know what the sun smells like," explained Harry with total seriousness, looking at her with hope. To him, Aunt Mor knew everything; she was like a wise old sage.
"And what on earth is it supposed to smell like? Fire?" she asked, equally confused.
"Does fire have a smell?" Percy asked curiously.
The three of them stayed silent, thinking deeply, as if they were about to solve some ancient mystery.
Finally, Mor sighed.
"You know what? Go bother Dred. He's probably bored, being alone all day. Tell him to teach you how to use a sword or something."
"Eh? But I already have a teacher… and he'll get mad," said Percy, scratching his head. Harry, on the other hand, didn't look too eager; just watching his brother train was exhausting enough.
"No one said you can't have two teachers," Mor replied quickly. "Even if Einjard is an exceptional fighter with years of experience, each master has something different to teach. One fought against wizards, and the other against powerful knights. It's not the same. Besides, Harry also needs to get some exercise."
Percy thought about it and realized she had a point. Then he looked at his brother, who stared back suspiciously.
"Aunt Mor's right. Harry's getting chubby—he needs to train. Otherwise, he'll end up like Dudley Dursley, and people will start calling him Fat Harry… or Pig Potter," Percy said mockingly.
Harry quickly touched his stomach, suddenly worried he might resemble Dudley. But his concern turned to anger at his brother's teasing.
"That's not true! I'm not fat!" he protested indignantly.
"Haha, sure thing, Mr. Pig," Percy laughed.
Furious, Harry started chasing after him. Percy, who was in better shape thanks to his training, ran easily while laughing the whole time.
"Already tired?" Percy teased.
"Shut up, idiot!" Harry shouted, his breathing slightly labored. Deep down, though, he began to think that maybe he really did need some training.
The two ran around Mor in circles, while she watched them patiently… until she finally snapped her fingers and caught both by the collars.
"I really do love you with all my heart," she said calmly, "but I'm exhausted after fighting a damned hydra."
She walked back toward the house, grabbed a bit of Floo powder, and without another word, threw them straight into the fireplace.
The dust scattered through the air as both boys opened their eyes—only to see the brick wall of the chimney rushing toward them. If they didn't teleport fast enough, they'd crash headfirst.
Both shouted quickly, "Avalon!" and vanished in a flash of green light.
Mor smiled faintly, a small look of triumph crossing her face, before sinking onto the couch to rest. As she rolled up her sleeve, a black mark was visible on her arm, spreading like dark veins beneath the skin.
"This really hurts… I'm starting to understand why they ran off and took their kids somewhere else," she muttered wearily while pulling out a potion and drinking it in one gulp. Then she took another small vial containing a single golden drop and gently poured it over the wound.
The skin began to heal before her eyes, though slowly.
"It should take about a week to heal… I wonder if there's a phoenix nearby. That'd be faster. Though those idiotic wizards probably wiped them all out—like so many other creatures that no longer exist," she said with mild irritation as she headed toward her room, finally ready to rest.
…
In the island's fireplace, Harry and Percy were shot out into the air before crashing down on top of each other, dizzy and sore from the impact.
"Ouch!" Harry groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head. He was sitting on top of Percy, who had landed face-first on the ground and lifted his dirt-covered face with a grunt.
"Aunt Mor is going wild…" Percy muttered irritably.
Harry quickly got up, wearing a serious expression.
"Let's go find Mr. Dred," he said firmly.
Percy looked at him with a teasing grin, immediately guessing why his brother was suddenly so eager—the comments about his weight had clearly struck a nerve.
It didn't take them long to find Dred. He was always in the same place, though this time, unlike usual, they didn't find him sitting and relaxed.
He was training. He moved his sword—still sheathed—with such grace and precision that it took their breath away. His body flowed with perfect control, and for an instant, the boys couldn't even see his arms until the sword drew a cut through the air. His speed was almost inhuman.
Around him, the ground began to show fine lines that appeared out of nowhere. The cuts formed without raising even a speck of dust, as if the very air obeyed his movement.
Even with the sword still in its sheath, Dred was capable of leaving deep marks.
"Awesome!" Percy exclaimed, his eyes shining with excitement. Not even his own teacher had ever done anything like that… though, to be fair, Percy had never actually seen his master fight seriously.
Dred stopped moving and looked toward them. His breathing was calm, and not a single drop of sweat touched his face. He walked toward the boys with composed steps, while they stared at him with a mix of respect and awe.
"What are you two doing here? Got yourselves kicked out?" he asked, noticing the dirt-stained clothes that gave them away.
"Aunt Mor said we should come to you for training," answered Harry with an eager look. He had never been particularly interested in swordsmanship; he always thought wizards and warriors were two completely different worlds. But after reading a book about a magical knight, his curiosity had been piqued. And now, seeing Dred move with such otherworldly elegance, that interest only grew stronger.
Of course, Percy's enthusiasm was even greater—he had always loved learning about swords.
"Training?" Dred repeated, raising an eyebrow. "And why isn't she doing it?"
"Eh… Aunt Mor knows how to use a sword?" Percy asked, genuinely surprised.
"Pf. Of course. She's the one who taught me the basics," Dred replied calmly. "Though, obviously, she's not as good as I am now. Still, she should be perfectly capable of teaching the fundamentals."
Harry and Percy were left speechless. They both knew their aunt was a powerful and wise witch, but they had never seen her wield a sword.
"Besides," Dred continued, looking at Percy, "aren't you the disciple of that grumpy old man?"
"Aunt Mor said we can have more than one teacher. That way we can learn different experiences from each of them," explained Percy.
"Hmm… well, that's true," Dred admitted after thinking for a moment. Then he smiled faintly. "If you really want to learn, I've got nothing better to do anyway."
"Great! How many laps do we have to run?" asked Percy excitedly.
"Run?" Dred chuckled. "Oh no. I don't train that way. It's better to learn by fighting."
With a smile that inspired more fear than confidence, he crouched among the nearby debris and picked up three wooden sticks. Two were old and a bit worn, but still usable. He handed one to each boy and kept one for himself. Then he took a firm, graceful stance—the kind that only someone born for battle could assume.
"Alright. Attack," he said calmly.
The two boys exchanged confused looks, glanced down at their splintered and crooked sticks, and shrugged before charging at Dred.
Only a few minutes later, Harry was face down on the ground, completely exhausted. His breathing was heavy, and his arms refused to move.
Percy, who had lasted a little longer, fell beside him, using his brother's back as a pillow. Both were drenched in sweat.
Percy had thought that by fighting directly, he could skip the boring physical training his master made him do—but this was far worse. Dred had them repeat the same moves again and again until they collapsed.
"You've rested for a minute already. Get up," said Dred with a friendly smile.
But to Harry and Percy, that smile looked exactly like the grin of a demon enjoying their torment.