The Complete Season 1

by Michael Underwood

  “I think the duel will last as long as Lavinia wants it to last,” Michiko responded, keeping her tone neutral. Her telling moment was coming ever closer, and Grandfather’s words lingered with her, obligation and opportunity weighed on a scale atop her heart.

  Kris opened with sigils of speed and strength, while Lavinia launched immediately into Shockwave. Kris leaped over the rumbling wave of earth, but barely dodged the follow-up bolts from Blazing Bolt. Lavinia was relentless, flowing from one sigil immediately into the next, with no motion wasted.

  Dodging and blocking as best they could with counter-sigils and Adamant Shield, Kris slowly closed the distance between them. The look of joyful concentration they’d worn in previous duels quickly gave way to a harder, colder look, all traces of a smile gone. Kris looked like Michiko felt whenever she communed with her grandfather—overwhelmed.

  And yet they pressed the fight. Lavinia slashed high as they came in, and Kris ducked into their parry, the blade striking sparks as it cut just above the Rumikan’s head. Kris whipped the blade around to cut at Lavinia’s wrist, but she was too fast, turning to parry the strike while carving a new sigil, Divine Gust, which blew the smaller duelist back. Kris kept their feet, but barely.

  Lavinia advanced while Kris struggled to keep their footing. But instead of landing one of three easy blows Michiko would have used, Lavinia lashed out with a heavy kick to Kris’s side, knocking them back and down.

  The duel was to first blood, not the first strike.

  Lavinia closed again, hammering on Kris’s defenses, and Michiko could nearly feel the strain of the blows, flashing back to her own brutal training sessions with Lavinia. She was as harsh a tutor as Michiko had ever known.

  But this was not instruction. It was naked cruelty.

  Lavinia dragged the fight out, landing body blows and pommel strikes, sigils with percussive attacks and slaps with the flat of her blade. Kris began to leave openings, either from fatigue or perhaps inviting a blow to end their misery, but Lavinia refused to take the obvious shots.

  “Enough, Lavinia!” Ojo shouted from the sidelines.

  Michiko looked to the crowd. Some had turned away, some cringed. Some looked on with bloodthirsty eagerness. Mostly Lavinia’s fellow imperial subjects.

  She forced herself to look back at the duel despite the sick feeling in her stomach.

  Kris landed a parry and pushed backward to make distance between them and reset the fight. The Rumikan was battered, but not beaten.

  They cut a new sigil, one Michiko had not seen before.

  “Vek’s Mirrors,” Takeshi said beside her. “Where did they learn that?”

  Where Kris stood there were now three of them. The Kris on either side began to circle, moving to flank Lavinia.

  “Parlor tricks,” Lavinia sneered, her commander’s voice filling the room. She banished one image with a bolt of fire, then dodged between the two remaining, parrying through one’s cut and spinning in time to block the true Kris’s cut.

  But barely. For the first time in the duel, Lavinia was not in full command of the situation.

  As she pushed the cut aside, Lavinia’s demeanor changed, sharpened. She counter-thrust with incredible speed. Kris barely dodged to the side, bringing their blade back around to defend. Lavinia hailed blows upon them, giving Kris less and less time to retreat or recover.

  The images forgotten, Lavinia pressed forward, knocked Kris’s blade to one side, reached out to grab their sword with a gloved hand, then closed and head-butted the smaller fencer, knocking them flat on their back.

  “Call it!” shouted Alyx from the opposite side of the pitch.

  But there was no blood upon the ground, nor on Kris’s face.

  Lavinia held Kris’s blade, leaving them nearly defenseless. But instead of letting Kris yield, her blade lashed out, stabbing deep into the shoulder of Kris’s sword-arm.

  Finally Yochno’s bell rang.

  “It is done!” the seneschal bellowed.

  “You are not ready, whelp,” she spat. “Crawl back home and remember this the next time you think to challenge the empire.” Lavinia stepped back, saluted Yochno, then tossed Kris’s blade at their feet.

  Rumika’s medic rushed to Kris’s side, along with their attendants. Takeshi shot up and moved for the Rumikan as well, far faster than she would have expected.

  This was the Mertikan ideal she was supposed to strive for? Uncompromising and cruel, victory at all costs? If Lavinia was the empress’s hand in Twaa-Fei, then in the empress’s eyes, all were useful tools or doomed hurdles to be crossed and shattered.

  Who was she really fighting for? And who was she expected to hurt along the way?

  Enough is enough, she thought. Michiko stood and crossed to join the group around Kris.

  She was the warder empowered to face Kris, and therefore she could set the terms of that duel. She would not compound cruelty on cruelty.

  •••

  The Rumikan medic treated Kris’s wound, but from up close, Michiko saw that there was no way they’d be able to fence that night.

  Michiko sought out Yochno, who lingered by the side of the arena.

  “Kakute proposes that the final duel be postponed until tomorrow.”

  Yochno raised an eyebrow. “That is very considerate. As you stand for Kakute in this Gauntlet, I can convey the offer to the aspirant, if you like.”

  If Lavinia and the empress were trusting her to represent Kakute, then she would set an example. Kakute would show the nations that they could balance strength and compassion.

  “Thank you, Seneschal.” She bowed and returned to her seat.

  Lavinia was waiting for her. Michiko considered turning and leaving, but that would only delay the inevitable.

  “What did you tell the seneschal?” Lavinia asked. Bellona flanked her as always.

  “I offered the aspirant the chance to delay the final duel. They are clearly in no shape to present a challenge, and when I beat them, I want the outcome to be undeniable. If we seek to deny Rumika, we cannot do so if the other warders believe that Kris could have won the final duel if they’d only been given time to recover.”

  “You are too generous,” Lavinia said. “You must take every advantage presented to you, especially with your lack of training in the proper imperial techniques. Do not fail the empire, Michiko.”

  Everything came down to results. No room for emotion, no room for mercy. This was the standard Lavinia set. But in the fury of a storm, a tree that refused to bend would break. Was the empire the tree or the storm?

  Michiko bowed, hiding her face from Lavinia’s watchful eye as she set her expression. “I will do my best, Warder.”

  Something had changed within her during that fight. But could she betray her oath of loyalty? Even to correct an injustice?

  Chapter 8

  Kris

  Instead of the evening duel, Kris took a long bath, trying to unknot their muscles. Afterward, they sat with ice packs in a reclining chair, both grateful for the delay for the final duel and worried that one night of rest would not be enough.

  Nik leaned into the main room of the guest quarters, saying, “Warder Ueda is here to see you.”

  Kris stood, which set their shoulder on fire once more. They slumped back in their seat and took a moment to let the pain dull.

  Moving slower, they stood and said, “Of course, send him in.”

  Takeshi wore a fresh set of robes, and carried a well-worn leather satchel in one arm.

  “Good evening, Warder. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “There was no reason to expect me.”

  “Again, I’m very sorry—”

  Takeshi cut them off. “There’s nothing to apologize for. I missed the parry, and your blow struck true. I’m the one who should be apologizing for Warder Junius. I have some skill with medicinal poultices, and I wanted to offer what assistance I might.”

  “I might wonder why you’re offering to help me when the last person I�
��m scheduled to duel is another imperial subject.”

  Takeshi knelt and unfolded his pack, revealing freshly cut herbs, mosses, and a rainbow of vials. “Dueling is hard enough when you’re healthy. And everyone benefits if the result of this Gauntlet is without question. Muddied waters are likely to breed resentment and reprisal.”

  Kris nodded, taking in Takeshi’s words. “Well said. I am grateful for whatever help you can provide.” They’d need it. Even with a night to recover, they’d be fighting Michiko left-handed and exhausted.

  Kris pulled off the arm of their loose tunic, and let Takeshi and Nik remove the bandage.

  Takeshi’s hands were warm despite the cool night air. He worked skillfully, tender but not forceful, cleaning the wound again before applying the poultice.

  “Did you ever consider being a physician?”

  “It’s what I wanted, before I was called to serve as a bladecrafter. We have many doctors, but few duelists. Our governor decreed that my talent for bladecraft was too great to waste on healing.”

  Nik held one layer of the poultice on while Takeshi mixed several liquids in a bowl. “Here I have access to the finest library in the sky, so I keep my medical skills as honed as I can. Help the doctors on the lowest level, sometimes. The city doesn’t do the best job of taking care of its poor.”

  He dabbed a brush in the mixture then painted it into the poultice. The liquid seeped through and Kris’s shoulder went cold, then numb.

  “Few cities do,” Kris said. “That’s amazing. What is it?”

  “That, I’m afraid, is an Ikaran secret.” His smile told Kris that he was joking. He taped down the bandages and stood. “If anything starts turning green, remove the poultice immediately and send for me. But that’s a very rare reaction, and as I’ve read, almost unheard of on Rumika.”

  Nik nodded. “We’re hardy people. Not in the league with Vanians, but we hold up. Kris here is proof of that.”

  Kris offered their free hand shake. It was a bit awkward, but they managed. “Thank you again, Warder Ueda. You have my gratitude, and that of Rumika.”

  “You’re very welcome. Now do your people proud tomorrow, and see this through.”

  Takeshi bowed haltingly, then took a long moment before he seemed to remember that he was leaving, and made his way out.

  Now that was unexpected, Kris thought, the image of Takeshi’s smile and the deft touch of his trained hands lingering long after he’d gone.

  •••

  Kris woke the next day dreading the pains and aches they were due.

  But instead of a sharp stabbing, their shoulder reported only a dull throb. And their other bruises were far smaller and lighter than expected.

  Kris penned a letter of appreciation to Takeshi, which Nik dutifully delivered, along with one for Michiko.

  Out of curiosity, Kris tested their sword arm, extending, flexing, holding their blade. It hurt, but not enough to be worth fighting left-handed.

  They might not be at full strength, but they’d finish the Gauntlet today. They’d see whether Takeshi’s kindness and Michiko’s mercy gave them the space to win or rope enough to hang their own chances.

  Chapter 9

  Michiko

  The crowd assembled after lunch for the sixth and final duel of Kris’s Gauntlet. Michiko kept moving, light on her feet, kicking out the worry and trying to stoke the flames of her aggression. She’d slept poorly, conflicting loyalties and desires refusing to resolve or go quiet.

  She could not afford to do less than her very best with this crowd watching, from Lavinia to the dozens of imperial subjects in the crowd. The empire was counting on her to deliver them a victory, especially after she’d extended Kris the courtesy of delaying the duel.

  Kris walked onto the pitch with their medic and attendants. Their gait was a bit stiff, but they moved with resolve.

  Michiko put on a mask of politeness to hide her storm-tossed heart. She’d hoped to have a decision about what to do in the duel when she woke, whether to follow Lavinia’s orders or her grandfather’s.

  What little sleep she’d found had not brought clarity, only the feeling of a steel fist wrapped around their stomach, breath permanently caught in their throat.

  As the two closed to shake, Michiko nodded to Kris. “You look well.”

  “Thank you.” They grinned. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to pledge your support regardless of the duel’s outcome?”

  If only it were that simple, Michiko thought. Lavinia would skin me alive and then send me to run errands as I bled out.

  “Not unless you are planning to announce Rumika’s intention to join the empire?”

  “Alas, no. But at least this time, I’m not hungover. Shall we?” Kris raised their blade to salute. Michiko matched them. Yochno repeated the terms, and the two returned to their ready positions.

  Kris opened as they usually did, with sigils of speed and agility. Michiko matched them one to one.

  They traded attacks from a variety of sigils, closed and backed off, testing each other’s defenses. Kris was moving stiffly, but so was she, thanks to lack of sleep, undigested worry, and uncertainty.

  Their last duel, Kris had been tired and angry. Here, they were bold without being brash, daring but not sloppy. Michiko found no easy openings to capitalize on, nor any convincing places where she could slip up. Her mind flipped between options at the tempo of the fight, thoughts and impulses never breaking through her resolve to guide her actions.

  Both she and Kris were playing waiting games, probing for an opportunity: Kris for their chance to strike, Michiko for the telling moment that would let her decide and be done with this torment.

  The crowd was a din, with only rare voices piercing the cacophony.

  “Finish them!” Michiko heard from Lavinia.

  “Focus!” shouted Ojo.

  Michiko cleared Kris’s blade and took a large step back, giving herself a breather. Kris’s aggression could be used against them; she just had to create the moment without leaving an opening for Kris’s tricks.

  She decided to use one of her own. This one she’d picked up from Lavinia, watching her use it to chase Bellona around the pitch.

  It’d make a good impression on Lavinia, at least.

  Or maybe it was to win and be done with the fight.

  She still couldn’t tell which part of her was lying to herself.

  Michiko stepped back again as Kris closed, keeping her sword out of the way of Kris’s as she drew the sigil Arcane Beast.

  A luminescent bear made of golden light snapped into being, rearing up on two legs between Michiko and Kris.

  The crowd gasped. Summoning creatures with bladecraft was a rare and difficult feat. Win or lose, she’d shown her own prowess here, or would if she could control the construct and continue the fight.

  “Where’d you learn this one?” Kris said, keeping the bear between the two of them.

  Michiko did not answer, focusing on the fight. She feinted, then pushed off and reversed direction, hoping to startle the Rumikan.

  It would have worked, if not for the torso-sized sigil of counter-magic Kris etched in the air. Intricate and taxing, pure counter-magic was a brute-force measure. Far better to reverse the sigil itself. But doing so required knowing the specific sigil in question well enough to cut it backward.

  What Kris did was the equivalent of using a cannon to fell a tree for lack of an ax.

  But it worked.

  Lunging, the beast shattered into a kaleidoscope of magical energy, fizzling out. And through the sparkling lights, Kris stepped forward to attack again.

  Michiko ducked and parried the cut, and they reset.

  On another day, with another objective, this would have been fun. Matching sigil for sigil, testing each other, pushing each other to do more, fight faster, dig deeper.

  They reached a fever pitch of feint and counter, cut and thrust. Neither quite landing a blow nor willing to retreat.

  But this ha
d to end sometime.

  Just do something, she told herself, frustrated.

  The two came to the clash, opposed cuts meeting in a perfect cross. Michiko felt Kris’s blade, weak on the inside line. All she had to do was push through.

  Here it is. I can do it.

  She imagined the scene, Lavinia proud, Kris devastated. The adoration of the empire.

  But instead she let the moment pass.

  Kris reversed around Michiko’s blade and swung at her forehead. She dodged to the side and her sword swept toward Kris’s knee. They leaned back in an acrobatic move, all their weight on their back leg, and her blade cut only the air. Kris responded by knocking Michiko’s weapon aside.

  Michiko stepped back and brought up her blade to guard against the expected follow-up, but Kris’s sword wasn’t there. Instead they dove under Michiko’s blade and scored a light cut across her calf.

  Kris rolled up to a guard position. Michiko felt the hot sting of the cut, and stepped back. Yochno’s bell rang twice.

  It was done. Kris had won, though only because Michiko had seen an opportunity and let it pass. Would Lavinia be able to tell what had truly happened? Would Kris?

  When Michiko switched her sword to her free hand, Kris sheathed their own, not to shake. Instead they launched forward, tackling Michiko with a hug.

  “What a fight!” They squeezed with more warmth and camaraderie than she’d gotten from the entire imperial delegation put together.

  This is why, Michiko thought. The empire sees me as a tool. Kris sees me as a person.

  Maybe even a friend.

  Michiko squeezed Kris back and then pulled away. The moment was done; there was no purpose in acting the sore loser, even to appease Lavinia.

  She grabbed Kris’s hand and raised it to the ceiling, shouting, “To the victor!”

  The audience erupted into cheers. Even some imperial subjects.

  Lavinia was not among them. Michiko’s stomach dropped at the thought of the lashing she’d get. Weeks of accounting duty or cleaning or another tedious task. Lavinia would take it out on her on the field, in the halls, and everywhere between.