“Uh…o-okay,” Eugeo said, feeling a bit flustered.
Tiese leaned toward him, cheeks much redder now, and shifted closer until he could practically feel her body heat. Then she stared straight ahead at the wall and whispered, “Eugeo, I was thinking really hard last night before I fell asleep, trying to figure out why Elite Disciple Zizek would do such awful things to Frenica, when he couldn’t possibly hate her or have some grudge against her…Kirito said that nobles should have pride. But…as a matter of fact, I know that among the higher nobles, there are some who…who toy with the women who live on their property…”
She glanced over at him now, with those eyes the color of an autumnal forest after a long rain.
“I’m…scared. Not long after I graduate, I’ll take over the Schtrinen house and end up wedded to another family in the same rank, or perhaps one higher. What if my future husband is…is someone like Zizek? What if he doesn’t have that noble pride and he does horrible things to those around him? It’s…it’s terrifying…”
Eugeo held his breath as he gazed into her teary eyes.
He understood how she felt, but it was also impossible not to be aware of the difference in social class between them. She was Tiese Schtrinen, the eldest child of a sixth-rank noble family, and he was just plain Eugeo, the third son of a pioneer farmer.
Because the harvests in little villages like Rulid were limited, the population had to be carefully managed. Almost without exception, it was the eldest son who took over the house and fields, so (depending on their callings) the later sons were typically forbidden to marry and were bachelors into old age. If he hadn’t met Kirito, Eugeo quite possibly could have led a life of nothing more than chopping at the Gigas Cedar every single day. Just like Old Man Garitta.
Now he was living in Centoria among nobles of every stripe—but what would he do if he failed to be school representative after graduating? He could try to get a position within the Imperial Knights or a garrison in some other large town. He could even go all the way back to Rulid to work for his brother. In any case, he’d never need to concern himself with a noble estate.
So naturally, Eugeo was shocked to breathlessness when Tiese leaned over and clung to his arm.
“Uh…Tiese…?!”
The noble girl stared right into Eugeo’s bulging eyes from point-blank distance. Her gray uniform gave off a faint scent of solbe leaves.
“Eugeo…I, um…I want to ask you for something. Please, please graduate top of the class, and win the Battle Tournament, and appear in the Four-Empire Unification Tournament.”
“Um…well…that’s what I’m hoping to do…”
“And then…um…” she said, trying to find the words, her face as red as her hair now. “I-I’ve heard that if you place highly in the Unification tourney, you can earn a noble title, like Miss Azurica at the primary trainee dorm. So, um…Oh, geez, I really shouldn’t be asking you this…but…if you don’t end up as an Integrity Knight…will you…will you be my…?”
She couldn’t finish that sentence. She just stared at the ground and trembled. Eugeo stared at her petite head, dumbfounded.
It took a little while for him to recognize what she was asking. With understanding came a tiny echo of his own voice inside his head.
The reason I’m trying to get to the Unification Tournament is to be an Integrity Knight and find Alice. That’s all. That’s all…
But he couldn’t explain that to Tiese now. He would lie to her if necessary—she was a sixteen-year-old girl fearing the uncertainty of her future for probably the first time in her life. Yet he could sense that spurning his page’s desires at this moment wasn’t the right thing to do.
Eugeo lifted his left hand and awkwardly rubbed her head. “Yeah…I know. When the tournament’s over, I’ll come see you.”
Tiese’s shoulders quivered, and she slowly, timidly looked up. Tears glistened on her cheeks, and she wore a smile like the budding of spring. “I…I’ll get stronger, too. Strong enough to be like you…and say the right things when they need to be said.”
4
When the sun dawned on the twenty-second day of the fifth month, they had the first instance of rough weather that spring.
Large drops lashed the windows, hurled by the occasional gust of wind. Eugeo paused from his sword polishing to consider the gray sky—which was already losing Solus’s light, despite it being only the end of class.
The layers of dark clouds writhed like some living creature, blasts of purple lightning sneaking through the gaps here and there. Back in Rulid, spring storms were a bane on the villagers, as they would flatten or uproot the fragile young stalks. When Alice had learned the sacred art of weather forecasting, it practically set off a festival celebration. Sadly, they had only two years to make use of that gift before…
It wasn’t until he started learning sacred arts at the academy that Eugeo truly understood the immensity of Alice’s talent for them. Spells that made use of the laws of nature like weather and geography were some of the most notable higher arts, whose chants could extend over a hundred lines, and Eugeo couldn’t even predict if the next day’s weather would be sunny or cloudy. Alice had been able to predict the coming of a storm a week ahead of time; by now, she had to be able to manipulate the weather itself. Perhaps this angry storm was a manifestation of her own irritation that Eugeo still hadn’t come to get her…
“Ahhh!”
He pushed out that frustration with a groan and resumed polishing the cloudy silver of his blade with the oiled rag. He’d never missed his weekly upkeep of the Blue Rose Sword, but since he’d gained admittance into the academy, these were essentially the only times that he pulled it from its sheath. Everyday practice was with a wooden sword, and for the test matches, each student was given an identical sword to ensure fairness. Compared to the divine object in his hands now, those school blades were much lighter and seemed like they might fly out of the handle if he swung hard enough, but he understood that he couldn’t go waving around this tremendous blade in case it destroyed someone’s iron sword with a single blow.
The only thing I can imagine freely clashing against with this sword is something similar to that, Eugeo thought as he looked up at the black longsword being polished by his partner on the other couch.
The Gigas Cedar had loomed over the south of Rulid for three centuries, and when it fell at last, they broke off its top branch and lugged the lead-heavy thing with them all the way to Centoria—Kirito often joked that they should just plant it on the side of the road. They took it to Sadore, a metalworker and old friend of Garitta’s, and it took an entire year for him to fashion it into this sword.
Sadore, who was practically the dictionary definition of eccentric, grumbled that the blade had ruined three blackbrick grindstones that were supposed to last a decade, but he didn’t charge them, as it was a once-in-a-lifetime piece of work for him.
The finished sword shone with such a deep, rich light that it was impossible to believe it was made out of a tree branch. Kirito had used it in his duel with Volo Levantein two and a half months ago to achieve a draw, but he hadn’t taken it out of its sheath since then except to polish it.
Eugeo was starting to think that they’d never have an actual use for these particular swords during their stay at the school. They couldn’t be used in official matches, and it was hard to imagine any other students challenging them to a duel using personal weapons.
So if he wanted to fight with the Blue Rose Sword, he needed to be chosen as school representative and earn entry into the Imperial Battle Tournament. That was the whole idea of being here, of course, but he wasn’t entirely sure that he could master this heavy sword within a single match—and on such a huge stage, to boot.
Rather than a student, he’d be facing some veteran of the Imperial Knights or a famous sword-bearing line, with an equally impressive blade of his or her own. Fighting with real blades meant that a blow in the wrong spot could put him in the hospital for a
month or two.
As a matter of fact, both Volo Levantein and Sortiliena, the last year’s school representatives, had fallen to the knighthood’s representative. Liena’s whip had been sliced and knocked from her hands, but Volo’s left shoulder had been crushed and broken. Normal sacred healing arts were enough to seal the skin and prevent the dropping of his life, but it couldn’t repair the bone—he was probably still undergoing treatment.
According to the newspaper that was pasted on the bulletin board once a week, that representative of the Imperial Knights was from one of the most elite imperial noble families of all: the first-rank Woolsburg line. He won not only the Battle Tournament but the Four-Empire Unification Tournament in April and was invited to the holy garden of the Axiom Church to be honored.
Perhaps it was no surprise that Liena and Volo would lose to such an opponent—but Eugeo had to win, no matter whom he faced. At next year’s Unification Tournament, he had to emerge triumphant, like this year’s Norlangarth representative, and pass through the gate of Central Cathedral. There was no other choice.
I’ll need your help. Please lend it to me, he prayed to his sword as he polished the tip. Meanwhile, Kirito was sliding his blade through the folded rag. Eugeo stared at that pitch-black sword, shining in the lamplight, and said, “Hey, Kirito.”
“What?”
“Have you come up with a name for your sword yet?”
It was the fourth time he’d asked since the sword was finished, and the answer Kirito gave him was again the same: “Erm…nope…”
“Just name the damn thing already. You can’t keep calling the poor sword ‘the black one’ forever.”
“Hmm…well, at the place I used to live, the swords’ names kind of came with them…um, I think,” Kirito mumbled vaguely. Eugeo was going to tear into him again when Kirito’s hand shot up all of a sudden.
“Wh-what?”
“Hang on. Was that the four-thirty bell?”
“Uh…”
Eugeo paused and listened. Through the howling of the wind, he could hear the faint sound of bells ringing.
“You’re right. That late already? I didn’t even hear the four o’clock chime,” Eugeo muttered, looking out of the darkened window.
But Kirito’s expression was hard. “Ronie and Tiese are late.”
Eugeo’s breath caught in his throat. Tiese and Ronie hadn’t shown up later than four o’clock to clean their rooms once. Eugeo shrugged, trying to fight back the creeping sense of worry.
“Well, the storm’s pretty bad. Maybe they’re just waiting until the rain stops. It’s not like there’s a rule about when they have to start…”
“Do you think rain would keep them away…?” Kirito asked, looking at his hands in thought. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. I’m going down to the primary trainee dorm. You wait here, just in case I miss them by accident.”
He slid his black sword into its sheath, placed it on the table, and got up. There was a light rain jacket nearby that he fastened with his left hand while opening the window with his right.
Eugeo screwed up his face against the burst of wind and rain and said, “Um, Kirito, shouldn’t you go out the d…”
But his partner had already leaped from the windowsill to a nearby branch and slid down out of sight, leaving only the sound of rustling leaves. Eugeo sighed, exasperated, and shut the window behind him.
With the sounds of the storm at bay, suddenly the burning of the lamp on the wall seemed much louder. Eugeo returned to the couch, picked up his sword, and sheathed it, disquiet steadily building in his chest.
Higher sacred arts could tell you the location of a person, but they required a lot of spatial power and thus a catalyst. And on the school grounds, any arts that targeted another person were forbidden, even if benign. All Eugeo could do was sit on the couch and wait for something to happen.
After several long minutes of nothing, there was a small knock on the door.
Eugeo exhaled a huge breath. See? Of course you’ll miss them if you jump out the window, he thought, getting off the couch and crossing the room to the door.
“Thank goodness, I was wor—”
The words caught in his throat. It wasn’t the familiar red and dark-brown hair he was expecting but a light brown tousled by the wind.
A strange girl was standing in the hallway, neither Ronie nor Tiese. Her short hair and gray primary uniform were wet from the rain, and her dripping cheeks were pale. Her large, doe-like eyes were full of impatience and panic, and her lips were trembling.
In a quavering voice, she said, “Um…are you Elite Disciple Eugeo…?”
“Uh…y-yes. Who are you…?”
“I…I’m Frenica Cesky. I-I’m sorry for visiting you without making arrangements first. B-but…I just don’t know what to do…”
“Oh…you’re Frenica?”
He gave the short girl another examination. She had a delicate body that seemed ill-suited to swordplay and tiny hands that looked more like they were meant to weave crowns of flowers. His rage at Humbert rose anew.
But before he could say anything else, Frenica clutched her hands to her chest and pleaded, “Um…Disciple Eugeo, I’m so grateful to you for what you’ve done about Humbert Zizek and me. I’ll spare you the details of what’s happened to me, as I’m sure you already know. But…tonight, he ordered me to perform some tasks that are…d-difficult to explain here…”
Her face was deathly pale and tense, and Eugeo could sense that the shame of those words had to be burning her alive on the inside.
“I…I admitted to Tiese and Ronie that if I had to keep following those instructions, I…I’d rather quit the academy. Instead, they rushed off to plead to him in person…”
“What?” he rasped. He felt his fingers gripping the white leather scabbard going cold.
“But I just kept waiting, and they never came back, and I…I just don’t know what to—”
“When did they leave?”
“Um, I think it was right after the three-thirty bell.”
That was over an hour ago. Eugeo held his breath, looking across the hallway toward the far door. The girls had been here, on the third floor of the disciples’ dorm, this whole time. That was far too much time for an argument or petition.
He turned back to the storm-beaten window, but Kirito was not about to return through it. It would take at least fifteen minutes to visit the primary trainee dorm and come back in this weather. There was no time to wait around.
“All right,” he said to Frenica quickly. “I’ll go check it out. You wait here in this room. And…if Kirito shows up, tell him to come to Humbert’s room, will you?”
She nodded uncertainly, and Eugeo left the room. After a few steps down the parquet hallway, he realized he was still holding the Blue Rose Sword, but he didn’t want to turn around to put it back. He let it hang in his left hand and walked east down the curving hallway. With each step, the mass of anxiety in his chest grew.
The reason the girls had gone to argue their case directly was clear. Eugeo and Kirito’s first argument had not been successful, and Tiese had admitted her wish to him the night before—she wanted the strength to say the right thing, and now she had a chance to test that resolve.
But perhaps…that was…
“Was that the intent from the very start…? Not us but the girls…?” he muttered under his breath as he ran.
Between trainees and disciples of the same rank, you could speak freely without problems. But a primary trainee and an elite disciple was a different matter. They’d have to choose their words very carefully to avoid breaking the school rule on politeness. If they crossed the line, the disciple could choose to enforce disciplinary punishment in the place of a faculty member. Kirito had learned this lesson the hard way with Volo Levantein.
Eugeo consulted his memory of the school rules.
When an elite disciple hands down disciplinary punishment, one of the following three types of commands is allowed. 1)
Cleaning the school grounds (see area limits). 2) Training with a wooden sword (see regimen). 3) A duel with the disciple (see rules). In all cases, higher law takes priority.
“Higher law” meant Basic Imperial Law and the Taboo Index, of course. In other words, the taboo against reducing the life of another without reason still held priority over the disciplinary punishment. If Humbert commanded Tiese and Ronie to accept a duel and insisted it be first-blow rather than stop-short, he would not be allowed to physically harm them if they did not accept. So there shouldn’t be too much to fear about Humbert’s punishment.
But the worry and dread that stabbed at his heart would not abate.
At the east end of the circular third-floor hallway, the door was closed. Eugeo didn’t even wait to gather his breath. He slammed his fist against it.
After a few seconds, Humbert’s muffled voice answered. “Well, well, you’re late to arrive, Elite Disciple Eugeo. Please, do come in and grace us with your presence!”
It was as if he’d been waiting for Eugeo to come, a realization that only quickened his pulse. He yanked the door open.
The fancy lamps they’d installed were dimmed, making the shared common room much darker than the last time he’d been here. There was some thick eastern incense burning, hazing the air in the room. Eugeo grimaced at the smell, looking around.
At the couches in the center, wearing the same thin robes as yesterday, were Raios and Humbert. Raios sat with his back to Eugeo, legs up on the table again, glass in his left hand. The contents were dark red, probably wine. Alcohol was allowed in the disciples’ dorm, with certain restrictions, but drinking on a normal day was frowned upon.
Across from him, Humbert was clearly intoxicated already. There was a slack smile on his reddened face as he leered, “Don’t just stand there. Come here and sit, Eugeo. We just opened a fifty-year vintage from the western empire. Common folks rarely get a chance to sample such fine drink!”
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