by Ko, John
Spikey reaches his head up and nuzzles her fingertips. “You are just so precious, aren’t you?” she says to the chipmunk and then to the boy, “He’s amazing, so soft and so well behaved. I’ve never seen a Tear Pet like him before. Where did you get him?”
“He came up and touched my Tear a couple days ago. Now we are stuck together.”
“No way!” she says, playfully pushing him away in disbelief. His aura twitches and then shrinks at her touch. Something’s wrong. Whatever it is, it makes her suddenly afraid—not of the boy, but for him. Spikey squeals in approval. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s just that I do that to my brother all the time.” But I don’t think I’ve ever done that to anyone else. What am I doing touching a total stranger like that?
“Please, do not do that again. I do not like being touched.” His voice trembles. Just as Rachel is about to apologize again, he continues on as if nothing happened. “I thought he was just a little chipmunk, but he is a true Tear Fighter. Unfortunately, I did not recognize his true strength and he took a Death Vow to never fight by my side.”
“Really? That’s such a shame.” Rachel pets the chipmunk with one finger, until he dodges and pounces playfully back. She continues playing with the little beast. “I’ve been looking for a Pet forever. I’ve checked every trainer on Tour, but I just can’t find one that I can bind. I want one, so I can use the Scout Vision Tech. That way I can see through their eyes. Wouldn’t that be so wonderful? The only hope I have left is to get into Criers College. They say they have a device there that will match anyone with a Tear Companion.”
“If you wish, I can take you to my rock after my hundredth. That is where I met Spikey. It is much better than any device you will find at Criers College. You can see the sunset from it.”
“Thank you, but I’m pretty set on getting into school,” she says.
“I understand,” he says before all of a sudden noticing, “Why are we in this line? All the other windows do not have a wait.”
“First things first: only crybabies call them lines. We call them queues on Tour, okay? Lines are what we use for Techs,” she says. “We’re in Young Sensei’s queue, so we don’t have to keep coming back. He makes sure all the proper forms are acceptably filled out the first time. Sometimes, he can even circumvent the system. Where another clerk would tell you it’s impossible, he’ll get it done. It means waiting now, but we’ll save a lot of time getting it done right the first time. Trust me.”
“I do,” he says. “He does the impossible, you say? Is Sensei not an Azurian word? He does not look like he hails from Neverfall.”
“He’s not. I guess they call him that because he’s the one to ask if you have any questions while on Tour, particularly concerning all the rules and regulations. He’s young, still too young to even compete, so I guess it would be awkward if everyone called him something like, ‘Tour Master.’ I think an Azurian started calling him Young Sensei, and it just sort of stuck.” It’s not unusual to find foreign-born citizens of Gorgury. Being the third and newest of the Three Kingdoms of Wysteria, Gorgury was conceived by immigrants, unlike Silla and Bae who have roots tracing back to the native Han.
“He must be very strong.”
“He’s smart and knows how to get things done, but he has some sort of heart condition. Even when he turns seventeen next year, he won’t really be able to compete,” she whispers. “We’re next, so have your Tear ready. And don’t ask him about his condition. I’m sure he’s sensitive about it.”
“Next,” the floppy haired young boy announces. His freckles line up in concentration as he gives a final look over of the previous application.
“Welcome to the Office of the Registrar. How may I be of assistance … Oh, hello, Rachel.”
“Hello, Sensei …” Rachel begins to say before an excited Fate is by her side introducing himself, “Well met, Sensei, I am Fate. How fare you this fine day?”
“Pretty good, thank you for asking,” Sensei says. “It is nice to meet you as well. And just how may I help you today?”
“You could help me by joining my Team,” the Fate says.
This guy is just asking anybody, isn’t he? Rachel takes it.
As usual, the Fate is met with a chuckle. “Are you serious?” the young clerk asks.
“I am always serious.”
“Three years, I’ve been working here and you’re the first to ask.” Young Sensei inspects the Fate. “Just who are you? Are you here together?” he asks each of them.
“No …” she begins.
“I am Fate, Captain of the Team that will do the impossible—the hard way. Are you interested in winning one hundred in a row?”
“That does sound interesting.” Sensei smiles. “Are you Bae? Which Clan are you from?”
“Yes, I am from the Slate. Now, will you join my team?”
“I appreciate your offer, but I’m not sure how much use someone like me would be on your team. I have this thing with my heart …”
“That matters not. You must love Tear Fighting as much as I do. I see you do all you can to be a part of it,” the Fate tells him. “Be my strategist.”
Oh my, that’s actually quite clever. A strategist doesn’t actually step onto the battlefield. Instead they coordinate the rest of the team from the Observation Deck. From there they can coordinate the five actually on the field. He’ll be a much better strategist than I ever was. At least he’ll be able to make proper use of the Tear Screen to see what everybody is doing.
“That’s generous of you, but can you really afford to fill a spot with someone who doesn’t fight at all? I can’t think of a team on Tour that has a spot dedicated to just a strategist. Well, unless the strategist bought that spot. And if I was to be your strategist, that means the other five will have to compete in every event.”
Sensei’s right, Rachel realizes. That means someone like him and I could never be on the same team. She has no intention of joining the boy, but soon it may not even be an option.
“That is fine. I want the best and you will be the best strategist.”
Sensei asks, “You do know that teams that can spare an extra slot usually sell it, right? You can make a lot of money if your team is any good. There are plenty of rich families out there willing to pay for even a slight chance to get their kids out of Service.”
“None of that matters to me. Join my team and I promise you will not regret it,” the Fate says.
“There’s one other thing, too. I don’t turn seventeen until just after the season,” the young clerk says. “But there is a rule that allows for early participation. And it just happens to apply strictly for strategists.
“But with my birthday still a couple months away, I won’t be eligible for early participation until just before the Grand Finale Tourney. If you’ll have me then, I’ll give you my all and I’ll totally understand if you change your mind between now and then.”
“Daebak! Welcome to my team, Sensei.”
What just happened? Rachel wonders . Sensei’s too smart to make such a rash decision. It’s just one tournament, but his reputation may be ruined for it. Then he’ll have no chance of getting onto a team next year.
“Thank you. Even though I won’t officially be a part of your team until after Greenwood, just let me know how I can help. And Rachel, I heard what happened to you and Wake. I’m sorry. Kearney is a real jerk to do what he did,” Sensei says, smiling apologetically. “Never mind that, though. What can I help you with today? Need to sign up for some solo events?”
“Thanks, Sensei. And you‘re spot on, as usual. But it’s not for me. I’m here to sign Wake up for the One-on-One Finisher’s Series.”
The young clerk already has the proper form in front of him. He doesn’t need to ask a single question as he fills out the paperwork. He knows most everyone’s information by heart.
“I need to sign up for that too, and of course register our team,” the Fate says happily.
Chapt
er 4
SENSEI
[The Office of the Registrar, Greenwood]
More often that not, Arthur Bannister Jr. can be found taking lunch at his desk. What you will never find is anyone actually referring to him by that name. Everyone calls him Sensei, which he’s not particularly fond of. But he’s not complaining. It’s far better than being called Arty.
Arty is what they used to call his farther back at the Great Library. And Arty used to take lunches at his desk, too. Even janitors are given a desk at Wysteria’s largest and most prestigious library.
Sensei’s not like his father though; he’s already a level three clerk. He knows every in and out, every loop and hole of how the Tour works. It’s a rather complicated system, set up to deal with the thousands of seventeen-year-olds competing each year. And Sensei is the one to turn to if you have any questions. But registration for the solo games ended at noon and applications for team events won’t start until tomorrow, so he has some time to himself.
The small clerk pulls out the gift his possible-new captain left with him earlier that day. It’s a wicked-looking, little drum. The drumhead is thick, black goatskin, stretched and tuned by blood-red ropes that crisscross down its sides. It has the distinct look of a war drum.
He takes a seat and positions the drum between his knees just as the Fate showed him. He gives the drum a gentle thump. It’s louder than expected so he double checks to make sure no one else is about. He wonders why his new Captain would choose a Zul hand-drum rather than the more common type that you hit with a pair of sticks. Which reminds him, that’s where I heard his name before.
It’s been bothering him since meeting the odd boy. Even though he called himself Fate, it was the name on the application that he could have sworn he heard before. And it just hit him: Kase Shake asked about a Terrantius Slate, all the way at the beginning of the year.
Kase may be the Top Finisher on The Royal Team, and his father, Senzen, a legend in the Three Kingdoms. But before all that, Senzen was a Chieftain of the Zul. They say he fought his way halfway around the world to join his tribe with Wysteria’s newest kingdom, Gorgury.
But why had Kase Shake, the Best of the Best , been asking around about this guy? the little clerk wonders. The Slate Clan’s always been small, usually too small to field a full team of their own. But last year’s Top Team did have two Healers from the Slate. And there’s that girl, the first in the Three Kingdoms to receive an international ranking in a long, long time. Her second name’s Skyshadow, but isn’t she linked to the Slate as well?
Sensei’s far from tough or strong, but what he’s always been good at is seeing the whole, even the missing pieces. This could be it—the start of something really special.
Chapter 5
IEIRI
[The Village of The Slate Clan]
Interrupting the stillness of midday, the slightest of figures bursts through the treetops. To the unfamiliar observer it would appear as if Ieiri Skyshadow is violently climbing an invisible ladder just above the tree line. In truth, each unseen handhold, each temporary step, is her creation. They exist for barely a moment, just long enough for her to advance to the next. It’s an act of incredible physical exertion, usually done as an exercise of the body, but today she climbs for another reason. He met someone. She felt it.
Trying to clear her head of such thoughts, Ieiri focuses the totality of herself straight ahead. She stares defiantly at the sun, willing it to become ever so slightly larger. It’s the only way to measure her ascent. To look down, to lose focus in the slightest, would mean an end to it all.
This is it. Out of breath, her legs unresponsive, Ieiri reaches out with the last of herself. The silhouette of her hand is all she can see; that and the sun. It’s so large now, almost in her grasp—almost, but unattainable. Like that clueless boy.
All momentum is gone—in its stead, weightlessness. And then she falls. Her hood flails furiously, finally forcing flat against her back. Her eyes, shut tight, leave a glimmering trail in their wake.
Hundreds of feet above the tallest tree, where no soul can see the highest ranked youth Wysteria has ever produced, Ieiri Skyshadow cries.
There was never any doubting her choice—never, not once, not since that day a year ago, the day she tied her fate to that boy. Even though it’s considered the most forbidden act by her people, to Choose someone before one’s time. Worst of all, to Choose one who couldn’t Choose her back and complete the cycle. If discovered, Ieiri would lose everything. She’d surely be recalled to Neverfall. Father would be furious.
She can’t go back to the Azure, at least not yet. Ieiri left as a disappointment and long ago decided never to return as one. She remembers it all too clearly: the look in the eyes of her parents as her teacher informed them that their daughter was abnormal, that she couldn’t hear the Wind as the other children. “Luckily,” he told them, “Even though she can never achieve great status herself, she’s a pretty enough girl to marry into it.”
Ieiri’s parents accepted this. She almost did, as well.
Her father returned to his duties the very next day. His only words for his devastated daughter were the traditional Azurian greeting and farewell, “Never fall, Ieiri.”
That’s when she decided if she couldn’t be a Stormwalker of Neverfall, she’d find another way.
Barely thirteen, she crossed the narrow sea to reach the Three Kingdoms of Wysteria. Even in a land known for opportunity, there were not many interested in a girl with an affinity to Air, but no talent whatsoever for it.
She was eventually able to find her place in a relatively unknown clan, the Slate, a small but respected village rooted deep in the Earth Arts. Despite her affinity to Air, they were the only ones to accept her, reluctantly at that. If it wasn’t for him speaking up for her back then, they would’ve passed on her as well—just as all the others.
That was the first time she saw him. The second, when he actually spoke to her, she thought him a fool. How ridiculous he seemed, enough so to make even that unsmiling girl laugh. It was amazing the things that boy didn’t know, almost as amazing as the things that he did. A couple of happy years later, she’s not just the Pride of the Slate, but of the Three Kingdoms. She’s eternally grateful, but it’s not enough.
To him, she’s just a pupil, a promising young girl—a teammate, at most. It didn’t matter, though. Ieiri Skyshadow performed the Choosing, anyway, the most sacred ritual of the Azure. It linked the two together, forever—unbeknownst to him.
On that first day when she felt his ambition run through her, Ieiri trained for three days and three nights straight. She was so drunk on his desire, his goals—she may never have stopped. In the end, they were forced to physically restrain her, binding her tight so she couldn’t escape. She only stopped fighting back when he began gently feeding her as if she were a baby. It would’ve been too embarrassing to endure if it had been anyone else. But when she looked into his eyes, she knew he understood.
Ever since then, Ieiri Skyshadow’s greatest challenge isn’t seeking motivation, but rather keeping it at bay. The day she received worldwide recognition came as no surprise to anyone who knew her.
Back then, this day seemed so far away. She was so sure he’d be hers by now. Even with the extra time, he lingered, waiting for the return of the Old Man things didn’t go as planned. Fool boy!
She opens her eyes and stares determinedly into the Air, her Aspect.
As Ieiri Skyshadow falls, she takes in a breath so deep that her lungs feel as if they’ll burst. The air flows through her, enriching her blood, delivering the much-needed oxygen to her depleted muscles. This is the secret of the Air Climb. She needs to get to such a height that during the descent, she’ll have sufficient time to recover enough for one more Technique or …
Feeling the swift approach of the trees behind, she quickly flips over and faces the forest canopy. She stretches her arms and feet towards the ground like a cat preparing to land on all fours. The lithe gir
l arches her back and lets out a simultaneous burst from her clawed gauntlets and Sandals of the Wind. It’s just enough to slow her descent.
She eyes the oncoming branches, looking for a familiar pattern in the shadows. Breathing deeply once more, she waits for it … Now! Ieiri leaps forward, reaching for something solid. She swings, releases, and lands deftly on a large branch, one conveniently flattened with use.
She slips quietly to the ground below. Exhausted, she curls into a ball and falls asleep.
When Ieiri awakes the moon stares back at her. Enough of this foolishness, she decides. She always knew that this would happen. When that boy, the Fate, left the village, her connection to him would weaken. The distance may draw their link thin, but she could still feel it. Something unchanging, deep down inside; it is there. It will always be there. I’ll never regret it, she thinks in defiance, though she is not exactly sure who she defies.
She playfully fingers the slim braid brushing her cheek. It’s her new one, longer than the rest of her thick black hair. She smiles. Ieiri knows what has to be done. She will become so powerful, so dominant—even he’d have to rely on her. Ieiri Skyshadow will be all the Fate ever needs.
She stands and stretches. A night climb will do me good. This time for the body, her soul’s at ease once again. After all, her time will come with the spring and she will be with him soon enough. Until then his promises will keep him safe.
Ieiri slips quietly into the Women’s House, a brightly painted building on a particularly lovely stretch of the granite cliffs. Overlooking the beach, it serves as home to the unmarried women of age. Once, it was her only sanctuary. That was a different girl though, one who journeyed so far to find a place that would accept her and when she finally did, she ended up hiding in her room all day. Nowadays, she barely visits it.