Djinn Tamer - The Complete Bronze League Trilogy

by Derek Alan Siddoway

  Defense: 63

  Speed: 76

  Accessories: None

  Items: None

  Status: Neutral

  Bond: 68%

  Move Set: Swipe Left to See More >>>

  Jackson swiped up and then selected the Magglecaw’s stats.

  GENERAL STATS AND INFO

  Djinn: Magglecaw

  Level: 14

  Name: Scrappy

  Element: Wind

  Species Rarity: Common

  Master: Jackson Hunt

  HP (Hit Points): 215/215

  EP (Elemental Power): 76/76

  XP (Experience): 656 to Next Level

  DJP (Djinn Points): 0 Unallocated

  Attack: 52

  Defense: 56

  Speed: 124

  Accessories: None

  Items: None

  Status: Neutral

  Bond: 20%

  Move Set: Swipe Left to See More >>>

  The two of them really had improved quite a bit, but the question always lingered…would it be enough?

  Jackson’s mind then went to Akamu, the only other competition he knew about apart from Fiona, and his anxiety peaked. Although Jackson would have been fine if they never crossed paths again, it would be inevitable at some point during their time at Training Camp. Jackson imagined the young Kaleo telling anyone who would listen how the kid from Tyle couldn’t even catch a Tandile when it was presented to him on a platter. For some reason, he didn’t think Akamu would have any problems getting his Djinn to work together — whatever Djinn they may be. Even if he was a major jerk, there was no way the son of Lei Kaleo wouldn’t be a great tamer.

  So caught up in his own nerves was he that Jackson almost didn’t realize when the train came to their stop in Green Town. The aptly-named area featured even more trees than Tyle, except these were tall, thick stands of pines that encroached on both sides of the monorail. They were so dense Jackson could barely see the sun shining down between them. It made it impossible to see where the Training Camp might be.

  “We’re here, kid!” Briggs said. He jerked a thumb out the nearby door that’d just opened with a whoosh of pressurized air. Jackson got up and grabbed his bags, but Briggs remained in his seat.

  “I thought this was the stop,” Jackson said.

  “Sure is,” Briggs said. “For you. Today, all you’re gonna be doing is getting settled in and registered and the like. You won’t need me until tomorrow morning. In the meantime, one of my favorite dives is in Green Town. See you tomorrow!”

  Jackson wanted to argue, but the PA system announced last call for any passengers disembarking. Still not quite believing Briggs was just going to ditch him, Jackson hopped off of the monorail and stood on a gravel pathway, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. The doors closed behind him and the train whirred to life with a magnetic pulse.

  And then Jackson was all alone.

  Well, not completely alone, he noticed. A couple other passengers with bags had disembarked as well and were standing around looking just as lost as him. For a brief moment, Jackson wondered if they’d all been part of some cruel prank, but then a couple of golf carts pulled up. The drivers all wore official DBL polos and ball caps.

  “Welcome to training camp, rookies!” One of the women in the cart closest to Jackson shouted. “Load up your bags and we’ll take you to region headquarters. C’mon, hustle!”

  Jackson tossed his bags into a small area in the back of the cart and climbed inside. The other would-be tamers followed suit, but they were all farther ahead than Jackson had been, so he had the cart alone with his DBL worker.

  “How’s it going?” the woman asked. She gave him a wide, friendly smile which made Jackson feel much less clueless than he had moments before.

  “Uh, good. My name’s Jackson. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you too!” the lady said as they pulled away from the train stop. “Name’s Lisa — glad you could make it.”

  Jackson didn’t know what else to say, and his stomach still felt like a jumble of Kasstors so he tried to take his mind off things by watching the scenery. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much of a change to take in. The same tall, dark pine trees flanked both sides of the asphalt road the cart sped down. Jackson wondered if they put the camp so far away from civilization so other regions couldn’t spy on them. After all, a few lucky and talented tamers attending camp would, presumably, eventually be part of the rising tamers of the Silver and Gold Leagues, and competition was heated enough to where the DBL feared the prying eyes of insecure members of the upper leagues or even competing regions. He almost asked Lisa about it but decided against it.

  “We’ll be there in about fifteen minutes but let me give you some info in the meantime.” Lisa spoke with the practiced ease of someone who had this speech down by heart and also enjoyed telling it. “Your first day of training camp officially begins tomorrow. Today, you’ll go through a few registration forms, get assigned to the barracks and get a quick tour of the facilities. I’ll drop you off right at the front gates and please remember: no Djinn are allowed outside of their rings at training camp until after your first week.”

  “Why’s that?” Jackson had to speak up to be heard over the electric sputter of the cart motor and the wind whipping by.

  “Just so everyone can get the lay of the land and to make sure no impromptu battles pop up,” Lisa said. “Trust me — once you meet some of the training staff, you’ll understand why you don’t want to break the rules.”

  Jackson nodded. He had dozens of questions he wanted to ask but wasn’t sure if his driver was the appropriate person to bring them up to. Instead, he remained silent, but Lisa didn’t seem bothered. They soon approached a large wall about twice as tall as Jackson with an arch stretching across the road. Jackson squinted as they drew near. It was hard to tell, but it looked like hieroglyphic etchings were engraved on it — he made a mental note to take a look at it again if given the chance. However, once they passed the arch, his eyes were drawn to the wide open land that stretched in front of them.

  “The actual training camp is about thirty-five acres,” Lisa said, as if noting the questioning look on his face. “All of the buildings are located in the center of the complex, and the rest of the area is reserved for the additional outdoor training facilities and open space. The walls are actually part of a repulser field that warn off any wild Djinn in the area. The last thing we want is for a Smilaguar to wander into camp.”

  Jackson thought back to his encounter with a Smilaguar before he found Asena. “Yeah, we definitely don’t want that.”

  Their — what Jackson felt must have been awkward — silence stretched on for a few more minutes until the first buildings came into sight. Jackson’s eyes widened at the state-of-the-art facilities spread throughout the open field. A glass-domed roof with sun shades covered what must have been one of the arenas. Similarly high-tech buildings two to three stories tall surrounded around it as if the dome was the center of some giant tech-flower and the other buildings were its petals. Off to the south Jackson spotted rows of rectangular buildings with small windows. They looked like hotels and he figured they were the barracks.

  The area around the stadium was paved with cobblestones, and a number of people walked by. Some were clearly fellow tamers getting settled in to what would be their home for the next month. The rest were comprised of a small army of DBL employees engrossed in the plethora of assignments and responsibilities that kept a training camp running. Every one of the DBL folks wore khaki shorts, a bright red shirt, and a tan, floppy-brimmed hat to keep the sun off of their faces. If it weren’t for their different heights and skin tones, Jackson might have mistaken them for a bunch of clones.

  Following the rest of the carts from the train stop, Lisa brought them to a halt in a roundabout in front of a fieldhouse building to the left of the stadium. “There you go! Just walk through those double doors, and you’ll find camp staff ready to welcome you right ou
t on the artificial turf. Good luck!”

  Jackson still felt like his head was in a whirlwind, but he grabbed his bag out of the back of the cart and followed the rest of the group into the fieldhouse. A number of tamers who must have not taken the train joined them as well. In spite of his feelings, Jackson forced himself to put on a brave face and shoved his fears deep down inside his gut. The sliding doors whisked open and a scented wave of rubber turf and exercise equipment washed over him. A group of four people waited out in the middle of the field as the new tamers piled in and across the battle markings on the turf to join them.

  The woman in the middle had a stern look chiseled on her face as she scanned the crowd without any hint of a welcome. The few small talk conversations that had picked up between the doors and the field died as the tamers spotted the woman. They filed in before her without being asked — nobody felt brave enough to incur the woman’s attention with silly questions, apparently — then stood, waiting. The woman held them under her scrutiny for another long moment until the last person filed in to the back of the group.

  Jackson glanced around at his peers and saw about twenty in all. Geography had never been his best subject but he knew the Granite Region had well over one hundred and fifty towns and cities. Maybe they were being brought in by group? Either way, he didn’t recognize anyone in the crowd — no Fiona and no Akamu.

  “Tamers, welcome to the Bronze League Training Camp for the Granite Region!” the woman barked. “My name is Coach Karen Harcriff. I’ll be one of the quality control trainers here at camp. That means I’ll be assessing you and your Djinn over the course of the next month to ensure you’ve got what it takes. There are roughly two hundred tamers who reported to this facility yesterday and today. By the time we’re finished in a month, that number will be down to twenty. That process begins tomorrow. In just a few moments, you’ll hear from our logistics coordinator, Rex. As soon as Rex is finished with you, I suggest you find your lodging, get some food and rest up. You’re going to need it.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Jackson wondered if there’d been some sort of mistake and he’d been drafted into the military — this certainly didn’t seem like a training camp, and it sure didn’t do anything for his nerves. Even so, he squared his shoulder and tried to feel brave. It didn’t matter how many other tamers were here. All that mattered was that he’d made it. And unlike last year in the Vance McAllister Invitational, he wasn’t going to blow it.

  Coach Karen Harcriff excused herself after the less-than-inspiring pep talk and another man stepped forward. He was middle-aged with a slight build and a pair of too-big glasses that amplified his eyes.

  “Greetings, new tamers,” the man said. Jackson had expected him to have a high, shaking voice, but instead it was a low baritone that sounded just as sure of itself as the Karen woman had. “I am Rex Golding — I’m in charge of camp logistics: making sure you’re where you’re supposed to be when you’re supposed to be there and with plenty of fuel and rest for you and both of your Djinn.”

  He held up his holo-watch and turned it side to side so that everyone in the semi circle around him could get a good view. “In the next few moments, I will push your welcome pack onto your holo-devices. This will show you which barrack you are assigned to and will also give you important information like where and when to go for meals, your training and assessment schedule, and any other information you need for your staff at camp. Any questions?”

  Most of the people in Jackson’s line of sight had the same Deerun-in-the-headlights look that he did. A few tamers shook their heads and some mumbling went around, but nobody said or asked anything directly.

  “All right, then,” Mr. Golding continued. “If you are in need of anything, you can also access camp resources from within the app I have sent to your devices. Remember, we want you and your Djinn in tip-top fighting shape! If you feel any type of illness at all, or if you notice any illness or injury in your Djinn, please report it immediately. During the duration of your stay at the Training Camp, you and your Djinn are insured members of the Djinn Battle League — take advantage of the excellent staff of trainers and therapists available to you and your Djinn.

  “Speaking of which, that brings me to my next point. We’ve already vetted your sponsorship — private or township — through the DBL application you were requested to complete prior to the beginning of camp. That’s how all of your individual welcome packets were delivered to the correct individual. But one item still remains — your Djinn must go through a quick bio scan to ensure they are in good health to compete and to prevent the spread of any disease throughout the camp. You might think it’s a pain in the ass now, but you’ll thank us if we uncover any cases of mange, Djinn cough, or any other maladies. If you have any questions, please feel free to contact a member of training camp staff through your holo-device. Exit through the doors behind me and you’re all set!”

  As Mr. Golding finished speaking, Jackson felt a pulse on his wrist. He looked down at his watch screen and saw a notification for a new program installation. He allowed a moment for the files to finish downloading. A couple of seconds and a beep later, a folder the size of Jackson’s hand appeared in the 3D holo-screen area above the phone. Jackson flipped through the projection with his finger, scanning the packet of documents. Realizing that most of the other tamers were already clearing out, Jackson did a quick search for the Day One Guide and located his assigned room in Barrack 4.

  The exit Mr. Golding pointed them to was on the opposite end of the fieldhouse they’d entered. Jackson saw two lines set up that went out each door. He recalled a trip he’d taken with his grandma to visit his great aunt when he’d been fourteen. They’d flown to another region for the visit, and the setup at the end of the fieldhouse reminded Jackson of the security scan at the airport. Tamers filed in to one of two lines, each of which had a small silver conveyor belt that went through a scanning machine about the size of a lunchbox. When it was their turn to proceed through, the tamers in front of Jackson pulled off their Djinn rings and set them down on the conveyor belt that ran them through the box. After a couple of whirring sounds and a few beeps, the interior of the box flashed with a green light and the next tamer followed suit. When Jackson reached the front of the line, he pulled off Asena and Scrappy’s rings and then passed to the other side of the scanner.

  “Looks like we’ve got a Lyote and a Magglecaw,” the middle-aged balding man behind the scan booth said. He gave Jackson an impressed look. “Nice work, kid. There’s not many tamers out there that could snag a Lyote with a Magglecaw.”

  “It was the other way around, actually,” Jackson said. “The Lyote was my first Djinn.”

  The man stared at him with a confused expression. “So…you had a Lyote and you went with a…Magglecaw for your second Djinn?”

  “Yeah…” Jackson felt his face flush and wondered if he’d be dealing with this on a daily basis. The fact that the Magglecaw was his second Djinn was probably one he wouldn’t have to share with everyone he met. At least not right away.

  The man blinked, and an awkward pause followed. Luckily the machine beeped and the tray with Jackson’s rings slid out. Jackson put them back on his fingers and left, hoping none of the other tamers had overheard the conversation. Jackson tried to avoid eye contact, surreptitiously watching as many tamers as possible while exiting the fieldhouse. Like him, most had their projections open with a map directing them to their assigned living quarters at camp. Jackson followed the dotted line on the small holo and soon came to one of the long, rectangular buildings located beyond the training facilities.

  As he strolled through camp, Jackson couldn’t believe the scale of buildings and the amount of wealth that had undoubtedly gone into raising the training grounds. The Granite Region camp was more like a miniature city than any type of facility. Fountains and flower arrangements filled the middle of the pathways between building and grounds. Tall, flowering trees rustled in the light breeze. Alth
ough there were hundreds of people in the area, it felt more like a quiet, advanced school campus than a proving ground for future professional tamers and their Djinn.

  After a short walk, Jackson arrived outside of the barracks marked 4 high above the double doors. The DBL didn’t allow any outside media into Training Camp, so Jackson had never seen this side of the sport before. The barracks — or, more accurately, the super expensive apartment complex — before him looked almost brand-new. Jackson guessed they conducted seasonal renovations to update building tech and it certainly showed. Even without going inside yet, he doubted any building in Tyle — including the famous Sato Breeders — had cost anywhere near this much to build.

  The double row of glass doors whisked open at his approach. Jackson found himself in a lightly air-conditioned common area complete with a variety of plush couches, tables, a few holo-game tables like pool and foosball, holo-visions, and a small kitchen area. A handful of tamers were spread throughout the living area, chatting in small groups, swiping through various apps on their watches, or watching a classic match on holo-vision. Jackson didn’t see anyone he recognized, so he made for the elevator in the middle of the long, rectangular recreation area and punched in the fourth floor.

  After a quick elevator ride up in solitude, he came to his door — 4413. Jackson held his watch up to the scan area on the handle and the lock clicked. The door swung in on its own and Jackson stepped inside the dimly-lit quarters that would be his home for the next several weeks.

  As soon as Jackson’s feet crossed the threshold, the ceiling lights came on and a room fan clicked into low gear. Instead of the cramped hotel room he’d been expecting, he found himself inside a mini townhouse. The hallway featured a closet on one side and environmental adjustment panel for heat, cold, and humidity on the other. It ended in a small living area with a couch and personal holo-projector. Continuing past that, Jackson found himself in the suite — a queen size bed, walk-in closet and bathroom, complete with a tub, shower, and full-sized sink. One thing was for certain: if his room back home was any indication of expected behavior, there was no way he’d chance letting Asena and Scrappy out together inside his living quarters.