by Reiter
“And if I manage to draw his focus away from the Games and to myself, what is the measure of the advantage I can gain?” Gantee inquired and Jorl’Lassor opened his mouth to respond, but found it was only the will to speak that had made him move. He had nothing to say; the argument his Vu-Khan had given him was sound!
“Who knew that you could be so very clever?” Jorl’Lassor asked, smiling brightly as he walked his son towards the platform. Three strides outside of the staging area, Jorl’Lassor looked back at Dungias. “While he is your younger sibling, it is obvious that you could learn a great deal from him, should you choose to apply yourself.”
“A great deal indeed, Master of the Kith,” Dungias said softly. “A great deal indeed!” Jorl’Lassor turned to face forward, and walked with obvious pride. Dungias lowered his eyes as he walked, assuming a posture that had become customary for him. Nothing more was said as the three of them approached the platform. Jorl’Lassor approached the judges to secure his Vu-Khan’s entry, and Dungias tended to his Vu-Prin, escorting him to the starter’s mark.
“So tell me, Dungias,” Gantee said softly as he began to stretch. “… what advice does my Vu-Prin have for me now?”
Dungias blinked twice; astonished that Gantee would even make such an inquiry. But he had studied much in the way of the Games, and was more than ready to lend his insight to Gantee's approach. He cleared his throat as he took hold of his Vu-Prin’s left wrist and left shoulder, assisting him with his stretching. “Only two of the eight architects for the Wailing Road have any military experience. You can use this to your advantage.”
“How so?”
“While the iro-forms are indeed potent, they do not manifest themselves and strike at the speed of light,” Dungias stated. “They can only strike as fast as the source that generates them.” Turning Gantee to face him, Dungias looked deeply into his younger Vu-Prin’s eyes and squeezed his shoulders. “You are my Vu-Prin, but more importantly, you are Jorl’Lassor and Laylaria’s child. The Z’Gunok Clan has always been graced with superlative physical capability. What our Vi-Zai has added in unquestionable.
“Use your speed!” Dungias whispered sharply as he leaned forward. “If you must use any of the iro-forms, use light!” As Gantee's eyes squinted tight, Dungias could see that his suggestion was not fully understood. “Cast an image of yourself half a tram to your rear and blur yourself with respect to visible light. You have the endurance to sprint the length of the course, as they can only make it so long.”
“You want me to run my fastest for the entire course?!”
“Yes!” Dungias nodded. Slowly standing straight up, Dungias released his brother's shoulders before taking a step back. Gantee gave his Vu-Prin a slight smile and nodded as he turned to take his mark.
“Then run I shall!”
And run he did! From the moment the small photon cracked and exploded over the arena, Gantee’s legs and feet propelled his body forward as if he were being chased by Grenbi; small free-floating drones followed behind the contestants and their broadcast was immediately put to the monitors. Side-by-side, the course began, but Gantee’s path quickly turned to the left and dipped under the other three courses. Before even reaching the turn, Gantee surged ahead of the gamesmen in the adjacent lanes; the young lads there looked at Gantee and either snorted their disagreement to his scheme or shook their heads, giving a slight chuckle. Dungias was only slightly surprised, folding his arms and turning his attention from the track to the large monitor located at the front of the staging area. The pace Gantee was setting was indeed fast, but Dungias had every confidence that his Vu-Prin was more than aware of his own physical limitations.
When he reached the turn, Gantee took it more sharply than was necessary, and instead of remaining in the middle of the path, he leapt into the brush at the right of it. Meters down the path Gantee emerged, bursting from the foliage in an iro-assisted leap. Dungias smiled as he could hear the growing murmurs of the attendance of the Games.
“He is running much too fast,” one female remarked.
“He's sure to tire himself out before the end,” a male Malgovi added. “What is he thinking?”
Gantee was still at a full sprint, without even seeming as if he was pressed, when the first living obstacle presented itself; a soldier. A Rangeman, they are often called, came down from the ceiling of the path with his weapon at the ready. His landing was a solid one, absorbing the ten-meter drop without stumbling or needing to roll. Gasps and a few shrieks came from the crowd, fearing for the safety and continued efforts of their favorite participant.
The Rangeman did not hesitate to take aim and fire three laser bolts at Gantee. More gasps, and a bit of commentary, were heard when all three shots just missed Gantee as he sped by the Rangeman.
“Did you see that?” inquired one onlooker.
“Did that Rangeman actually miss?!”
Jorl’Lassor experienced the same level of shock, surprise, and amazement and even started to question ‘how’ when he caught sight of his older Vu-Khan’s face. To those that knew nothing of Dungias, it would have gone unnoticed; but Jorl’Lassor could see the slightest of smiles along with a nearly negligible sparkle in the eyes as Dungias watched Gantee proceed through the course. There were a few questions he wanted to ask his eldest boy, but it could wait, and there was the matter of watching Gantee run the race of a lifetime.
It was only when he passed the halfway mark that Gantee realized the genius of his Vu-Prin’s advice. The sensors that triggered the traps of the Wailing Road were optical in their functionality. The application he was using to foil the living obstacles worked just as well on the mechanical ones. He allowed himself a prideful smile, putting even more effort into maintaining his speed.
Dungias was startled and his body shuddered from the wave of noise that struck and passed over his body. His arms unfolded and his head looked about him all directions as Gantee crossed the finish line. The roar of the crowd was completely unexpected. He could see his fellow Malgovi clinging to one another as they stomped their feet and hurled exploding bolts of energy into the air. Dungias pulled himself away from looking at them to put his eyes on the gamesman display. Not only had Gantee won his particular heat, but he had set a record for the event; running the fastest course in the history of the Iro-Games.
“I wonder how quickly changes will be made,” Dungias thought as he looked at the booth where the judges sat. Already they were in the midst of a serious discussion, trying to fathom how the young Malgovi had done so well in the contest. As he stood and waited for Gantee to return, Dungias toyed with the idea of telling the judges how his Vu-Prin had run his race. Such a revelation would allow the judges to change the subsequent courses so that no other contestant could run in the same fashion. He quickly came to the conclusion that he was best served in simply assisting his Vu-Prin. Making it more difficult for the other contestants seemed to be, at best, unsportsmanlike.
All four contestants were brought back to the staging area, but only three were conscious. One of the gamesman had not reached the halfway mark, dodging the first of two Rangemen, but getting shot in the back by the third. Apparently the configuration of their rifles delivered a photoelectric shock intended to render the target unable to move. What had not been considered was that the target in question might have been moving quickly, and the inability to move also meant an inability to stop. Struck with the energy bolt at the beginning of the turn, the gamesman's momentum had carried him into the wall. The stoppage had registered on the force field of the course and knocked the gamesman unconscious.
Gantee jumped from the conveyance and quickly ran around to the opposite side to help the medical technicians with the unconscious gamesman. The action lifted Dungias' left brow in both surprise and wonder. As the crowd fell into another chorus of chanting Gantee's name, the reason for his Vu-Prin’s sudden consideration of a competitor became quite clear.
“What a Star that shines upon us now” Dungias thought
, looking upon Gantee. His gaze shifted a few trams toward the staging area and Dungias lost all of his elation. “And what light does that Star yield to us?” With his mask still on, Vradwynn emerged from the staging area alongside three other gamesmen. Dungias quickly looked to the large display. The names of the four contestants for the next heat had already been posted.
“My Vu-Prin was already looking up and into the crowd,” Dungias thought. “It would have been easy for him to see the contestants for the next heat. Thus fate has assisted him, giving him good reason to delay his departure from the field and await the arrival of the contestant from the Cadre Blaxidurn.
“Do not do this, Gantee, I beg you,” Dungias thought, cursing himself for having no gift toward telepathy. “Vradwynn has greater fortitude of mind than his Vu-Prin. You cannot drive him to distraction, you try to drive him and his focus will only increase!”
“Were you watching, O great masked one?” Gantee inquired as the medical technicians took the unconscious gamesman from the field. “They are still tallying my score, but no one has ever run a course in my time. I am all but guaranteed ascension to the fourth and Final Round.” Gantee approached, making it quite obvious that he was inspecting young Vradwynn. “You don't look fast to me,” he judged. “I doubt that you can match my time. I doubt that you can even come close! What then will you do, I wonder. How can you hope to match me?”
“You forget that the Final Round is a contest of five,” the young Malgovi replied. “I don't have to beat your score; I need only not be exceeded by four others. Just four.
“But you ran a brilliant race,” the masked figure added. “Do you now dare to watch me take to mine? For if you do, you will have to come to some sort of resolve: what advantage your running speed will give you in the Final Round versus the approach I am about to demonstrate!” Vradwynn turned and walked away, adjusting his gloves and especially his mask. Kinjass met with his Vu-Prin and congratulated him on a rather promising exchange. In spite of Dungias' greatest hopes, he had to agree that Vradwynn had indeed taken the higher ground.
Gantee also watched as the contestants for the second heat readied themselves, refusing to go back into the staging area. Dungias wanted to talk to his Vu-Prin, he wanted the two of them to discuss what had happened and how they might best turn Gantee's ploy to their favor. But Gantee felt he had been challenged, and insisted upon watching the race.
When the starting bolt was fired, Vradwynn did not run… he walked, taking what looked to be the most confident stride exhibited in these games. He strode to each obstacle and used his skill with the iro-forms to overcome each one of them. He caught the shots fired from the Rangemen in a force field, compiled them, augmented their yield, and returned them to their point of origin. As soldiers, the Rangemen were wearing their armour; however, the attacks that Vradwynn levied against them far exceeded what the armour was built to take. When the traps of the course sprang into action, their energy yield was either deflected or the device itself was destroyed before it could fire. Vradwynn was indeed stout and unable to match Gantee's foot speed. But his reflexes and accuracy far exceeded those of the crowd favorite. Vradwynn recorded the absolute slowest time in history the Games, but speed of completion was only one source of the points which could be awarded to the contestant. How each obstacle was negotiated was another source, and like Gantee, Vradwynn had worked his way into the records of the Iro-Games by either defeating or destroying every single obstacle in his path.
The sound coming from the crowd had not diminished, but it had surely changed. They no longer chanted the name of Gantee, now they were calling for Vradwynn, and Dungias could not help but agree that the high praise was justified. He looked at Gantee, and he could see that his Vu-Prin’s excessive confidence was waning, and rightfully so.
He made his approach soft and quiet, using a light touch on Gantee’s shoulder. “This is my fault,” Dungias admitted. “I suggested that you take this course of action.”
“Yes you did!” Gantee snapped, whirling around to smack down the hand that was touching him. “I was a fool to ever listen to you!”
“That is a choice,” Dungias replied, slightly nodding his head in contemplation.
“A choice?”
“To lay blame, or to adapt, plan, and possibly overcome. All of these are choi–” Gantee’s hand smacked against the side of Dungias' face.
“Do not dare to speak to me in such a tone!” Gantee commanded. “With only a word I can have you removed!”
“Yes,” Dungias realized as he slowly brought his head back to looking at Gantee. “This… this is my Vu-Prin, and this is my family. For a moment, I dared… for one foolish moment I assumed that I could be more in their eyes. I assumed that I could earn my own worth and their respect.
“I must still be young,” Dungias considered as he stared at Gantee, “for I exercise the folly of the child; the foolishness of one who has seen so very little and knows even less.
“But I will not turn away,” he proclaimed to himself, receiving a second slap from Gantee. “They are my family. Without them, I would not be. And in continuing to love them, continuing to support them, continuing in my role as the object of their wrath and the source of their greatest humiliation… I know my worth to them. I cannot say it is accurate, but like looking at an object through a prism, my place… my worth is misinterpreted.”
“What transpires there?” Sryla inquired, looking down at the conflict of the two brothers.
“Uhh,” Duke MarrZo sighed in disgust. “It is the foolishness of an Iro-Gellvi made all too apparent. Those two are the Vu-Khani of the Kith Z’Gunok. The larger one is the elder and shay-spawn.”
“Shay-spawn?!” First Princess Sryla said, stepping back from the Duke of Sastra.
“I am afraid so, your majesty,” Warseth confirmed in a sympathetic tone. “I tell you, when the request for a third child came from their Kith, I could not forward it quickly enough.”
“Yes, I now recall that application,” Sryla stated. “My mother was at odds with it for many star-terms.”
“The elder is the large one, isn’t he?” SonBa noted, watching the larger of the two receive blows from the smaller. “Solid! The blows are registering. We can see his head turning. But his visage remains unchanged. He does not even blink from the exchange.”
“My Vu-Prin, it is shay-spawn!” Sryla stressed and SonBa quickly turned to face her.
“And what does that mean, exactly?” he inquired sharply. “Is he no longer Malgovi because he cannot produce iro? These worlds are not our true home, and our people were not one with iro-forms before we came here.”
“But we are here now, First Prince.” Sryla argued. “Would you have us cling to the ways we practiced when we were nearly driven to extinction?!” SonBa did not have an answer and Sryla was quick to advance and lay her hand gently on the side of his face. “My sweet Prince of a Vu-Prin. The throne has never known a more loyal light. No offense, my Duke.”
“And I assure you there is none taken in this comparison,” Warseth was quick to offer as he bowed deeply. “If anything, let me thank you for even thinking of me when considering the love of our First Prince for the Malgovi Throne.”
“An honor well-deserved,” Sryla replied, giving the Duke a slight nod of her head. She put her eyes on SonBa whose head had lowered. She took hold of his chin and lifted his face so that his eyes looked into hers. “That love serves our Vi-Zai, and in time may it serve me just as heartily. But you must know, dearest sibling, that we must make every effort to purge our people of the shadows of the past. When we were weak… when we were afraid… when we were blind to the Stars in the same instant we were scattered among them.
“There is no place for the shay-spawn here,” the First Princess declared. “We will keep them, of course, for as you so ably stated, they are Malgovi. But they are a sort which cannot be embraced; they can only be cared for. And within that care there must be an understanding: they must know their place
and never be allowed to forget it.”
“You are wrong, my Vi-Prin,” SonBa thought, deciding to pass on his intended retort. “They are the Malgovi we once were. They are the survivors… the builders… the truest architects of our people. We might emit light, but we are born from their shadows!
“But your argument, coming only from your voice now, echoes in the minds and hearts of many. For not even the Master of the Kith moves to aid his own son. My Queen… my Vi-Zai, can this be why you sent Sryla?”
“You assume too much, my Prince,” BaKedia’s voice found the mind of her son and he looked up into the star, feeling that it was its light which brought her voice to him.
“Who is to say I sent Sryla for this?” the Queen asked.
“You tasked–”
“I tasked my Vi-Khan and heir with the chore of attending the Iro-Games,” she interrupted and SonBa saw an image of the arena floor and the gamesmen, along with their parents and family members. “I urge you to let her do what I have requested of her. And I urge you to see to the Stars. They have called to me, and these Games hold so very much of our fate within their passage. Look for the sign, good Vu-Khan. If you see, your eyes will be blind to it. If you watch, the truth of the matter will bear itself out!”
SonBa tried his best to maintain the light that fell upon him as he cast his eyes down to the Kith Z’Gunok. The thoughts of the Vu-Zai were clear and, from SonBa’s perspective, disappointing. The younger Vu-Khan was hectic, fearing for himself in the Round to come. Given what the First Prince had seen, there was good reason for the fear. The fright, however, had been perverted to anger and wrath. Gantee struck Dungias because he did not know how to strike himself, how to face is fear.
However, then there were the thoughts of the first born son of the Kith Z’Gunok.
“I will not have the choices of my family affect mine,” Dungias resolved as the feeling of returning Gantee’s gesture was removed from his mind. The muscles of his body relaxed and his anger abated. “I cannot do what I must for them; but I will do this for me. Yes, for a moment I did dare to dream, but I am awake now, and I see which way my Star is shining. I will follow its light.