by Dilland Doe
An intermediate ranked guy walked by Theto, holding a finger in the air. Above it, a bright yellow and red ball pulsed with sound and light every few seconds; like it sent a shockwave through the room.
Theto climbed down the ladder to put on his boots. Most novices had them on and many jogged out the door. Behind already.
He vaguely remembered some sort of healer checking on him last night, giving Theto just enough life to stumble toward a cafeteria, where he ate alone in pain before being shown to his bunk.
He tied the boots, pausing to stare at the laces. Is this a huge mistake? He stood and jogged after the other novices, gritting his teeth at the aches that each little movement blasted through him.
Inside a large gymnasium, three rows of novices lined up in front of their instructor. The middle-aged man stood in front of a table, scanning his students. Theto stood in the middle row. Racks of weapons lined the walls.
Someone behind him muttered, “Please let it just be instruction today.”
Breathing in deep, Theto wondered what else there could be. His body throbbed from the swelling of his initiation beating. He couldn’t take much more. And this is my first day…
The teacher spoke. “This morning I will instruct you on magic-combat combined techniques.”
A few students quietly sighed in relief.
“But first. Theto Arrassio, come before me.”
He squeezed through two novices in the first row, then stood at attention.
“Number One, come before me.”
A student with short, black hair jogged toward Theto. He was about the same size, except with extremely cut muscles that bulged from his sleeveless arms and shirt. He jogged, and then stood, with an air of confidence.
“Number One, explain to Theto the numbering system.”
The novice stared straight ahead. “Sir! We novices fight each other. We are ranked based on who we defeat and who we lose to. In order to advance from novice to intermediate before the two-year requirement, we must achieve number one and maintain it for three weeks.”
I don’t wanna be novice for two years! But how can I be number one? There are like thirty of us.
The teacher nodded. “Tell Number Thirty-Two who I am.”
“He is Master Rena. With fire, force, and martial arts, he has killed over one-thousand enemies in combat. He trains us in the combined use of magic and arms.”
“Good. Now. Number One, Number Thirty-Two, fight.”
Number One jabbed the side of Theto’s face, knocking back his head. His jaw went numb. Theto backed up, twisting his waist and jerking his head, avoiding more punches that rapidly flashed toward his vitals. Blood rushed to his skull, then seemed to sit up there, creating a massive ache. Stay Conscious, Theto. Stay conscious.
Somehow, he fought through the pain of last night’s beating, and moved with the precision of a trained sportsman. He backed away while evading the kicks, punches, and chops that seemed to have no end. Number One’s determined, confident, and dark face stared coldly at him, while his body came at him with a variety of moves.
Number One threw a hard punch. Theto swung his head away, but the fist never came. The opponent pulled the punch and struck with the other arm instead. Theto just barely turned his head to evade it, then, pain exploded from his gut as One’s boot rammed through Theto’s stomach.
One followed with a deadly roundhouse, but Theto jumped back. Opening his palm toward Theto, a blast of wind shot from One’s hand. Theto’s mouth fell open in surprise as the blastwave picked him off his feet and knocked him backwards before he landed hard on his butt.
One leapt after him, attempting to stomp Theto’s knees. Somehow he adjusted his legs to avoid devastation, but failed to evade the hurricane of body punches to the torso. Theto moaned. He threw a right hook. It connected. A crunch sounded through the auditorium from One’s jaw. He staggered backward as Theto stumbled to his feet.
It seemed that Theto’s entire body screamed in pain. One held his jaw with his left hand, and stood wobbly, staring at Theto. Theto knew he got a lucky punch. It was the first time he struck back the entire fight. One must have let his guard down. How does this fight end anyway? No one told me the rules!
Thunder cracked from One’s feet. He blasted upward over and behind Theto, who spun around to face his opponent, but another blast already sent a wave into Theto, knocking him off his feet. One was on him again. Theto managed to dodge a few strikes, but many hit his body, then a few his head. The world came out of focus. One reared back a fist for a finishing blow. Theto wished he could dodge but knew he couldn’t.
“Enough.”
One stood and spun toward the instructor.
“Thank you, Number One. Go back to the line.”
The student bowed.
“Number Thirty-Two, stand before me.”
Theto barely heard anything in the real world. He imagined unicorns and rainbows dancing through a blue sky of scattered puffy clouds.
“Number Thirty-Two, stand before me, or Number Two will fight you now.”
The unicorns disappeared. Theto wobbled to his feet and stumbled to the instructor. He focused on standing straight while fearing what Master Rena would order next.
“Number Thirty-Two. You must choose a high being to train with. You have eighty-seven high beings to choose from. They all are allied with our school and available to work with a new wizard, if you can convince them to accept you.”
“Novice Twenty-Seven, explain all eighty-seven high beings to Thirty-Two.”
A thin boy, probably a year or two younger than Theto, stepped forward. “Yes, master.”
One by one, he named the high beings and explained their powers and their temperaments.
Theto listened carefully. Considering which type of high being he wanted. He knew nothing of magic, so he really had no idea. Focusing on the information ever so slightly reduced the pain throbbing throughout his body.
The novice finally finished.
The master shook his head. “That was eighty-five high beings. You forgot two. Over to the side.” He pointed. “You fight Twenty-Eight and Twenty-Nine at the same time.”
Twenty-seven bowed, then jogged away with two other novices.
The master explained the last two high beings, then said, “Under your bed there’s a book describing what has just been told you. Starting tomorrow, be prepared to describe all eighty-seven high beings at any time.”
The cloud of daunting tasks darkened over his mind, but Theto forced himself to ignore it no matter how many anxious urges squiggled through him. “Yes sir.”
The three novices to the side fought. Two against one, Twenty-Seven was losing, but he fought courageously.
The master opened his mouth. A blast of sound came out. A door behind him opened. A man led a horse into the gymnasium. The horse came between the master and Theto.
“All our high beings can talk through this horse,” the master said, “now choose one.”
Theto forced himself not to scrunch his face while scratching his head and saying, “Uuuuuuh.” He instead stayed at attention, examining the brown horse.
Twenty-Seven described one high being as having the best shockwave abilities. Theto saw that as like having a good pusher on a sedeux team. The high being’s name was… Thranix.
“Thranix, I choose you!”
One of the novices in line laughed.
The horse was silent.
Is this some sort of trick?
Smacks and grunts from Twenty-Seven getting beat-down filled the silence. Theto’s eyes glanced in that direction. Twenty-Seven still fought, but his left leg appeared broken. Blood and bruises covered his face, making it unrecognizable. Theto’s own pain reentered his mind, not that it ever truly left. Is that what I look like right now?
The master commanded in the direction of the fight, “Enough. Back in line.”
Two of them jogged back; Twenty-Seven hopped.
From the horse, a voice spoke. Theto a
lmost jumped back. “No. I only work with those proven. Reach intermediate level and I’ll work with you. Choose a lesser high being.”
Theto didn’t expect rejection. His mind ran to think of the other high beings’ powers and names.
He spoke to a few other of them, but they just didn’t appeal to him.
Theto stood straight. “I will reach the next level, then choose Thranix.”
“No,” the master said, “You must choose a high being.”
Theto smiled. “But I have one. He gritted his teeth and put up his defensive shield.”
The master’s face reminded emotionless. “That is a limited high being. Choose one from the school. You must.”
“Can I choose one now and still take Thranix later.”
“You should focus on one high being,” the master said. “In addition to your defensive high being, the one you choose today will be your second. Balancing more than that will be too difficult. It’s one thing to use a few spells from each high being, but to truly excel you must master one high being. You also don’t want to manage the personalities and needs of this many high beings. Let Thranix go and choose another to focus on.”
Theto felt the eyes of the other students on him. They must think I’m a fool. I don’t care. Magic is banned in Hyzantria, how am I supposed to know anything?
Theto looked at the horse. It stood patiently, seeming to ignore all around it. Does it know a bunch of mysterious beings from other universes talk through it somehow?
Yepiera. That was the high being of illusion that Twenty-Seven mentioned. The only one like it out of the eighty-seven.
“Hello, Yepiera, are you there?”
A feminine voice came from the horse. “Yes’m?”
“Uuuuh, I’m not a ‘m.”
“Sorry, mam,” she said.
“Uuuuuh. What?”
“Miss, can I help you?”
“You’re the one with a girl voice!”
“Tee hee. Oh am I? Do you like it, Theto? I hope you do. Sssssssss.”
Theto did like it, a lot. He found the feminine voice alluring. It stood on the line between cute and sexy. Do high beings even have boys and girls?
“Yepiera. I want to use illusions. Will you accept me?”
The master interrupted. “I don’t recommend this. We are an order of battle-mages. We fight. Most of us use offensive spells to disable, damage, or move our opponents. Choose something with more offensive power.”
Theto had seen what his uncle could do with illusions, and maybe if this high being did illusions like Akrah, then Hibb could teach him.
“I’m sorry sir, but if Yepiera will have me, I want her.”
The master nodded.
The horse swayed its tail for some reason. No high being spoke from the creature.
Theto didn’t know if he should speak or just wait for a response. “Uuuuuh, Yepiera, you there?”
“Yes’m?”
“I would like to work with you?”
“That’s nice.”
Maybe I should choose a more amendable high being… He thought of how much Akrah made fun of Hibb and how despite it, Hibb was an awesome magician.
“Yepiera, will you work with me?”
“Maybe. I like to be wined and dined before I give some little human my power.”
One novice laughed. The master narrowed his eyes and the noise cut off.
Theto smacked his lips a few times. “Uuuuuuuh, but high beings don’t eat or drink.”
The gym was silent. The pain of broken bones and bruised skin throbbed all over Theto. He wondered why in some moments it hurt like The Divinity’s wrath and others it was like a background noise.
He said, “Yepiera. Wha—”
“While we’re dating, you can call me Yep.”
Dating? Okaaaaay. “Yep, will you work with me?”
“Is that what the kids are calling it these days? Working? That’s not what I call it. No, I don’t wanna work at all.”
Do I really have to do this in front of the entire class? “Okay, would you like to go on a date?”
“Oh my, me? Yes. I’d love to!”
Like Theto just discovered a new sense, her power became open to him. It seemed different than Proteen, but similar somehow; like one was taste and the other smell. He had no idea how to use the power, but it was there, and it felt good.
“I have chosen sir, and would like to use Thranix as well when I reach the next level.”
The Master shook his head. “We’ll see if you reach the next level.”
Yep’s power left him. From the horse: “Already planning on leaving me!?”
“No, no. I just want a business relationship with him. You’re the high being of my heart.”
“Oh, so I’m just a high being to you?”
“The girl of my heart.”
Her power returned to him.
“Good.” the master said, “Back to your line. A communicator will be brought to you later. Now, combat training!”
In unison the novices yelled, “Hrraaa!”
Theto didn’t understand how he was supposed to learn anything while he could barely move his body that pounded with pain.
The master said, “Spar Teams!” He pointed at Theto, then motioned Theto toward himself.
While the other novices paired up amongst each other, Theto approached Master Rena. The master turned around and walked behind the table to the other end of the gym. Theto followed. The paired novices picked weapons from the racks on the edge of the gym and started sparing.
They use real weapons to practice?
The master stood between a rack of weapons and a hanging piece of chainmail.
He rubbed his hands down the armor. “This is mail and it has been made for you. All our monks wear it into battle. It offers superior protection against slashes, but limited against hard stabs. We use it because it offers maximum protection for its light weight. Heavier armor would interfere with many spells. We are an offensive order, not a defensive one.”
Theto nodded.
“Put it on.”
Theto did so. It was surprisingly light, and made Theto imagine himself as a tough warrior ready to take on invaders.
The master spoke surprisingly softly as he explained the different weapons. He showed Theto how to hold each one, how to move with them, how to parry, and how to strike. Theto paid close attention. He couldn’t help but feel he was just learning a different style of sedeux.
After Theto practiced with each weapon and listened to all the master’s advice, the master said, “You will learn to use all weapons, but will specialize. You will be given weapons that only you use in your specialization. Choose your weapon”
Theto remembered dancing through hordes of sedeux boys with his clubs. He was good. Two short swords seemed somewhat similar. They were a little heavier, but he would get stronger. He walked to the rack and pulled out two short swords. One in each hand. He sliced through the air as the master had instructed. It really did feel like he was on the sedeux field, but instead of going for the ball, he’d be going for an enemy’s flesh.
“Sir, these.”
The master nodded, still speaking softly. “Good. Those are yours. We will keep them in the armory while you’re a novice, but only you will use them.”
The master gathered the others and gave an advanced combat lesson. Theto listened, but remained practicing by himself.
He found practicing hard. Exhaustion dragged on every inch of him. His wounds painfully pushed against every movement. I hope I at least get to see the healer. Do we ever eat? It’s way past lunch time.
“Everyone line up! Lines!”
The novices jogged, then sat in lines on one end of the gym. Theto found a place. What now? How are people still moving? He looked around; the others held weapons. Theto dashed toward a rack, grabbed his two short swords, then sat back in line.
The master stared at Theto. “We have a new recruit. It’s time to determine his ranking.”
Theto jogged in front of the other novices with his weapons. Both opponents wore chainmail. The other held one long sword with two hands.
The master extended a hand. Light shimmered around both novices as some sort of shield formed to their bodies. It sucked to their form and disappeared. The master looked at Theto. “This shield will shatter on the first demobilizing or deadly blow. A second blow will kill you. Do not strike a second blow, that will be murder. Once a shield is shattered, we have a winner. Use whatever methods you wish. Go!”
The word ‘go’ lit a fire within Theto. He had no idea how to defend, but attacking seemed natural. He instinctively charged, like he would a loose sedeux ball. The other boy lifted his sword and his eyes went wide at the speed of the new recruit. Theto sideswiped his sword toward his opponent’s neck. The invisible shield shattered like vibrantly translucent shards of glass that disappeared as they fell to the ground.
The master looked at Theto. “Thirty-One,” then he looked at the defeated opponent, who stood frozen in shock, “Thirty-Two, sit.”
Another two boys fought, then Theto was called again, this time he faced Thirty.
“Go.”
Theto charged, the opponent reared back one of his two axes, ready to defend and strike back against the charge. Theto halted on a dime, just outside of striking range. The guy started to swing and axe, then pulled them back, showing a look of confusion. Theto went from zero to high speed in a second and lunged toward his foe’s gut. The opponent’s shield shattered.
Another break while two other boys fought, then Theto was called again, this time facing Twenty-Nine. Theto wanted to keep winning. He liked winning, just like in sports. And, he wanted to get out of a gym and explore the world as a battlemage. In-between fights his entire body moaned in agony, but during them, somehow the pain lessened.
“Go.”
Charging worked two times so far. Theto charged, ready to strike with his two swords. The opponent held a wooden staff. It seemed kind of dumb to use a weapon that’s not even sharp. He didn’t seem ready for the speed of Theto’s attack. Theto held up his right sword like he’d swing with it, but instead jabbed. Twenty-Nine stepped to the side.