The Duelist

by Eric Vall

  “Did Zoie explain the particulars of the garden to you, Mr. Alex?” Jenner asked as he rocked up on the balls of his feet.

  “She did, yeah.” I was a little suspicious of Jenner’s conversational tone because he didn’t strike me as the type for small talk, and I raised an eyebrow. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It is,” Jenner agreed. “How did you like Arvid’s stew, by the way? Was it enough to hold you for this season’s Night Fast?”

  “Yeah--er, yes,” I stumbled over my words at the abrupt change in subject, but also because I was still trying to get the hang of the new vocabulary for this world. “This Night Fast was made much less, er, ‘fast-y’ with Arvid’s stew. I’m still full from yesterday, actually.”

  “Mhm, yes, you had quite a lot of it didn’t you,” Jenner mused. “But answer me this: since when do the West Alemic nomads ascribe to the practice of eating meat?”

  “Ah,” I said as I realized the trap I’d just fallen into. Only Zoie knew I wasn’t actually from Aventoll, and now apparently Jenner did, too.

  “I almost didn’t catch it,” Jenner went on, “but in hindsight there are a lot of strange behaviors of yours that stick out, Traveler.”

  “I can explain,” I started.

  “Can you?” Jenner asked as he adjusted his monocle.

  “Well, no, but…” I trailed off.

  “But what?”

  “I get the feeling talking with you is like playing chess, and no matter which way the conversation goes, you are going to get me to reveal things to your advantage anyway,” I said and ascended the stairs into the courtyard. “So, why don’t we both just save our breath, and you ask me what you want to know.”

  Jenner looked up at me as I crossed my arms over my chest, and that razor-thin smile broke out on his face.

  “What is chess?” he asked instead.

  “That’s what you want to know?” I snorted, but Jenner just waited expectantly, and I huffed. “Where I’m from, chess is a two-person game that requires strategy, logic, and execution to get the desired result from your opponent in order to win.”

  “I see,” Jenner said. “And are you any good at this chess?”

  “No, I was terrible at it,” I laughed.

  “Well, that’s where I come in.” Jenner nodded and turned sharply on his heels. “Come along, Master, there is much we must go over before you make your shining debut. It’s my job to take care of you.”

  I felt a little whiplashed as Jenner changed course yet again, and I figured it was just something I would have to get used to when dealing with the infuriating man. I jogged to catch up to him before he got to the manor so I wouldn’t be left trying to hunt him down.

  I had the suspicion he had no patience for people who didn’t use their brains, but something about the way he smirked at me over one shoulder made me feel like I’d passed a test of some sort.

  Whatever the case, I’d never seen Jenner so lively before as he fast-walked through the corridors.

  “How much did Ms. Zoie explain to you?” Jenner asked as he led me into what appeared to be a small torch-lit library with naked shelves lining the walls.

  “She told me about the Goddess and about the Moon, and how the Ashers were created to defend against the demons,” I said as if this was a history summary pop quiz.

  “Oh, Ms. Zoie,” Jenner tutted as he shuffled through a stack of yellowing papers and maps on a large desk, “such a romantic at heart behind that tough exterior. But I’m assuming the story you heard was the story book version told to all Aventoll children. The political history, however, is something altogether different and vastly more bloody. Ah, here we are!”

  Jenner found what he was looking for in the shape of an ancient tome as thick as my thigh. He placed it in the middle of the desk chair and climbed up on his makeshift step-stool so he could reach for another book at the top of a shelf.

  “By now, you have realized being a Duelist is no small thing,” Jenner said and then blew a layer of dust off the cover of a book so thin it looked more like a large brochure.

  “Yeah,” I said as I took a seat in one of the armchairs across from the desk. “Duelists are like the lords who own everything, right?”

  “Indeed,” Jenner hummed as he flipped through the thin book. “How much do you know about becoming an Asher?”

  “Well, I know I became one when I killed Dagmar, but Zoie also mentioned killing the herald demon had something to do with it, too.” I shrugged.

  “Hm, yes, the demon that got our little friend Rylan so excited,” Jenner said as he jumped down from the chair, paused, and then looked up at me. “You really don’t do anything by halves, do you?”

  “Is what you said true about the way I killed it?” I asked. “Rylan said it was unusual for them to… explode like that.”

  “It takes a tremendous amount of conviction to channel so much damage into a demon at once,” he explained. “The Stones are said to originate from Bhraya itself, and they get stronger the closer Bhraya approaches. Tonight was probably a one off, so don’t expect it to be like that next time.”

  Jenner finally found what he was looking for in his book, and he turned it around for me on the desk so I could see.

  On the page the book was opened to, there was a drawing of a Duelist Stone almost identical to the one around my neck. Both my Stone and the one in the diagram each were about half an inch thick, had an etching of a shield in the center, and a koi-looking fish that swam around the shield. The only difference was my Stone was a little rougher around the edges, and the one in the picture was a perfect circle.

  The diagram was also helpfully labeled like something out of an anatomy textbook. One label pointed to the etching of the shield, and the other was pointed at one of the swimming Sacred Fish. They both read “pre-Duelist” and “post-Duelist” respectively, with a scribble of numbers that must have represented dates according to this world’s calendar system.

  “Aren’t Ashers the same thing as Duelists?” I asked and looked back up at him.

  “Now, yes,” he said as he cleaned his monocle on a handkerchief. “In the past when the Ashers were first imbued with Bhraya’s power, they were all of equal rank and united by a single cause. Over time, some Ashers became too powerful by hunting the herald demons and crafting weapons of unlimited power, and the sacred task of protecting the people fell to the wayside when they demanded to be treated like gods among men.”

  “What dicks,” I muttered.

  Jenner flipped to another page in the book, and a long passage with really tiny cursive writing filled the parchment type paper. I glanced up at the title which read: “History of Duelist Uprising” and figured it was like a textbook civics lesson I had no interest in reading whatsoever.

  “The fortune and blessing Mercedes gave to the Ashers was never meant to be used against the people, it was meant to be distributed fairly by those she deemed worthy and then maintained by their blood descendants for seasons to come,” Jenner explained. “After the Duelist Uprisings, however, if an Asher Lord was cruel to his people, Mercedes might bless those of No-Rank blood if their conviction was strong enough, and they begged her for her divine blessing. I won’t bore you with the historical details of how it came to be, but in short, Dueling for Asher rights became a way to establish more of a balance of power.”

  “So, now anyone has a chance to be an Asher, not just by some bloodline thing,” I said, and I started to get the picture.

  “Correct,” he confirmed and pulled out a long pointer stick. “The challenger just has to kill the other Duelist, and then he takes over the dead man’s rank and possessions until over time the rite of the Duel became less about equalizing power and more about gaining individual status. The Asher Lords in recent history have added amendments to the ancient laws which means political corruption run rampant now more than ever, and Ashers who are bent on keeping their titles have ways of manipulating the unsuspecting into a Duel if you do not understand the social more
s.”

  Jenner scooped up that riding crop thing from where it was leaning against the desk and turned to a map stuck on the wall over the desk. The title on the top of the map said “Nata Isle,” and below it was the outline of a landmass that reminded me of a rugby ball.

  The furry koala-man then tapped the center of Nata Isle with the crop, and the loud smacking noise made me startle a bit in my seat like a Catholic schoolboy nodding off in the middle of a lecture.

  I opened my eyes wide so I could focus better just in case my theory about Jenner and that crop was true. If there was another “pop quiz” like the vegetarian thing he pulled about West Alemic nomad culture, I wanted to be ready for my knuckles’ sake.

  I took a mental note of the island and of where the crop was pointing to, which was an icon labeled “palace.”

  “Every island in Aventoll is governed by a Lord Asher,” the gray-eared man continued. “He is the one with the highest status either from being born into an Asher lineage, or from the power transfer of a Duel.”

  “Power transfer,” I murmured as I touched the amulet-like Stone around my neck. “Dagmar was a level three, Asher Mec said. Does it really mean I’m a level three, or just a level one because I’ve only Dueled one person?”

  “Excellent question!” Jenner thrilled and tapped the open book page with the crop. He was definitely in his scholarly element, and his fuzzy ears trembled with excitement. “Observe the fish: there are three because Dagmar defeated Kel when he was a first-rank, he then gained Kel’s status of three. Therefore, because you were a lower rank than him, you gained his status when you defeated him and so on.”

  “What would have happened if Dagmar killed me?” I looked up from the book page with a curious frown. “Would he have gained another fish?”

  “No, a higher-ranking Duelist cannot gain status from killing someone lower than him,” Jenner said and flipped to another page in the book for me to see. It was very detailed with tiny cramped writing and a handful of diagrams with symbols and pictures. “But he does obtain his wealth and possessions.”

  “Including his wives?” I asked the obvious question, since I knew Zoie was now mine.

  “Correct.” He nodded. “All of the dead Asher’s business, estate holdings, servants, slaves, wives, and concubines. Including any children or fetuses in the womb.”

  “Fuckkkk…” I whispered as I was again reminded of how brutal this world was.

  “Well, yes,” Jenner said. “The wives and concubines would be yours to do as you pleased with them. You could fuck them all, or sell them, or kill them. Whatever you decide. They are your property as long as your rank supports it. When your rank goes up by one, so does the limit of women you may call your wife. Any other assets are considered concubines and so forth.”

  “Okay… So… if a Duelist can only gain more fish from defeating Duelists with a higher status than him, then why was Dagmar able to challenge a No-Rank like me?” I asked as I gave up trying to make sense of the esoteric book in front of me.

  “Because,” Jenner said curtly, “an amendment made to the law in recent decades has made an exception to this rule. If you disgrace an Asher’s honor, especially publicly, then you are open game, regardless of if you are an Asher or not.”

  I furrowed my eyebrows in a very unimpressed way. “Their egos are really that fragile?”

  “Indeed, the only thing Ashers like Dagmar gain from challenging No-Ranks is the satisfaction of maintaining their pride,” Jenner said, and his tone took on a weighted quality to it. “However, since one can only be a Duelist by killing another, the ranks are an accumulation of power, not a tally of successes like some people think.”

  “Huh,” I mused as I mulled all this over.

  “Some of the ancient texts, the ones that survived the Uprisings at least, suggest the Ashers will face judgment before they get to move on to the Next Life,” Jenner went on. “If their cause was righteous enough to strike down one of Mercedes’ children, then their ledger is eased. But if they slay her children with only selfishness in mind, well. Hopefully, their punishment is swift.”

  The warning was a clear and effective one: choose your battles wisely. I didn’t even want to know what particular punishment an awesome deity like Mercedes was capable of handing out.

  “Great power comes with great responsibility situation, got it,” I summed up. “How many ranks are there in total? Can a Duelist just keep gaining power forever?”

  “It might have been included in the ancient texts at one point,” Jenner said in a mournful tone as he picked up the thin book so he could show me the jagged ridge of pages ripped from the spine, “but so far it is known an Asher can theoretically reach the sixty-fourth rank. This was the original number of Sacred Fish, and of Asher Lords who first rose to power. There were supposed to be eight Lords to oversee the eight islands, but after the Uprisings, the history gets a little muddy, so it might be possible to reach higher levels, especially now that the Red Moon is back and there is a good chance Mercedes will bless us with a new generation of her children.”

  “Asher Mec is the top Duelist here, so I should probably know his rank,” I stated more than asked as I kept all this in mind to sort through later. “I’m pretty sure everyone who’s anyone knows all of these stats so they can size one another up to see where everyone falls in the social hierarchy, right?”

  “You are starting to catch on, young Alex,” Jenner said with a smirk and a twinkle in his wizened eyes. “Lord Mec is a rank-six and currently the strongest Duelist on Nata Isle. Under him is a fifth-rank, Ambassador Sskern from Terr--his species is reptilian and very distinctive--then Bala Ren and Gella Vane from Gatetown, who are both fourth-rank. Then there is you, a third-rank, and a smattering of single-ranked Ashers who don’t really mingle in the higher social circles, not like the third-ranks and above who are interested in forming alliances with the powerful and won’t hesitate to start a duel over the slightest perceived public insult.”

  “Okay, I’ll be sure not to insult anyone,” I said.

  “Easier said than done,” Jenner replied as his lips drew into another one of those intelligent smirks he had. “It becomes fairly obvious to anyone who really interacts with you that you are a Traveler and don’t know much about Aventollian ways.”

  “Okay, but like why is being a Traveler a bad thing?” I groaned and pushed the book back toward Jenner with a frustrated shove.

  “Some folk think Travelers are a bad omen,” Jenner said as he put the book away. “Whenever Aventoll has been in crisis, there are historic records of Travelers appearing just days before. A lot of what was written about these accounts were destroyed like the ancient texts, but people still hold on to superstitions.”

  “So, what,” I said and got to my feet when Jenner gestured for me to follow. “Do I need to come up with a secret identity? Tell me more about those nomad guys, I know they don’t eat meat now, which is a bummer, but I could be a vegetarian--”

  “Not to be insulting,” Jenner cut in as he led me up to the second floor, “but you are an appalling liar, my lord. I’m positive you are incapable of blending in with the common folk.”

  “I was always shit at poker,” I chuckled.

  “Prime example, I have no idea what most of what you say even means,” Jenner deadpanned and pulled out an old iron key out of his pocket. Then he stopped at an unassuming door at the end of the hallway and unlocked it.

  The door opened and revealed a large armory that lit up with the same automatic wall sconces everywhere else in the manor. Mounted upright on the ground were a few antique-looking suits of armor, but unlike the secret weapons cache that was stacked with dozens of weapons, this armory was nearly empty and picked over besides a few odd helmets, unmatched gauntlets, and greaves that looked half rusted.

  I gave a low whistle when I took in the sad state of it.

  “Dagmar really cleaned you guys out, huh?” I asked.

  “He owed a lot of gambling debts to
various people,” Jenner grumbled and then knelt down on the floor. “Help me with this, lad.”

  I joined him as he tried to lift a stone out of the floor, and I dug my fingers around one of the corners in order to add some leverage. Finally, the heavy slab was lifted out of the way and set aside, and underneath, there was a small space where a long wooden box was hidden.

  Jenner pulled it out and coughed as he wiped away the thick layer of dust. Then he undid the brass latches on the sides and opened the lid to reveal something that looked like ceremonial battle attire.

  A set of mahogany leather pauldrons affixed with gold armored plates matched a wide armored belt, and matching leather and gold leg greaves and arm bracers were neatly bundled up with a pair of black breeches, black boots, and a deep blue tunic that reminded me of super soft cotton. I could already tell it was a huge improvement to the scratchy potato sack I was currently wearing. No wonder Jenner hid all this.

  “Well, put it on,” Jenner ordered after I just sat there staring at the finery.

  “Whose was this?” I asked.

  Jenner politely turned his back to give me some privacy before answering, “The original lord of this manor, the man who Dagmar killed in the duel. Now hurry up, sir, we are behind schedule, and I still have more to tell you.”

  Great, more lectures. I didn’t know if my brain could take any more information, and I inwardly sighed as I started stripping off my clothes, but when I got to my jeans, something occurred to me.

  “Hey, what should I do about the ruby I got from the herald demon?” I asked as I pulled the blood-red gemstone out of the pocket of my Levi’s.

  “You’ve kept it on you this whole time?” the koala-man asked, and I could see his gray ears as they perked up in interest.

  “I didn’t know where else to keep it,” I said with a shrug.

  “That’s good,” he replied. “There is no safer place than on your person.”