by TurtleMe
“Will Lady Vera be there?” I asked, already changing into my training clothes.
The maid, her back turned to me, shook her head. “Unfortunately, she will be busy with meetings. She has assured me, however, that she will still make it to your rounds for the city competition tomorrow.”
I was disappointed but I didn’t let it show. After the maid excused herself, I found my hand fiddling with a small trinket that Lady Vera had given me, sometime after she saved me from those interrogators that tortured me. It was the insignia of the Warbridge family, Lady Vera’s house: two crossed swords supporting a golden arch.
Whether it was the reassurance it gave me—proof that I had a house to belong to—or the fact that it was given to me after one of the most horrific experiences of my life, I couldn’t go anywhere without it. I stuck it back into my pocket before heading down to the dueling area.
As I walked through the unique-looking buildings that melded modern designs with Victorian architecture standing between the flawlessly groomed garden and lawn of the Warbridge estate, I was reminded of how different this place was from anywhere else I’d been to.
Most buildings were purely functional, with no thought or resources given to how they looked, but here, the buildings themselves were beautiful. It was a strange thought, to consider a house to be beautiful, but it was true. It was also true that Warbridge House originally came from a different country, which clearly inspired their architectural aesthetic.
Trayden, their home country, was a close ally of Etharia, and apparently it was not unusual for the named houses to have a strong presence throughout multiple countries, assuring them the opportunity to sponsor kings for any of the allied nations. I wasn’t too interested in the politics involved in all of this, but since the king sat in on Council meetings, I was required to take extensive lessons about the different countries and their diplomatic alliances toward one another.
By the time I arrived in the Warbridge dueling arena, there was already a flurry of activity and noise coming from within.
The dueling area consisted of five government-approved dueling platforms and a variety of training equipment. Some of the older—but still efficient—machines used lead weights for resistance, while the more up-to-date tools utilized the user’s own ki to power and train.
Normally the training grounds would be full of cadets, but today was different. A crowd had gathered to watch the proceedings, largely consisting of the sponsored cadets’ families. The faces in the crowd looked tense and excited, ready to cheer on their sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, who would be challenging each other in the arena. There were more than a few missing faces today, though; the cadets who hadn’t qualified to participate in the city competition had been expelled, their contracts ended.
I was just in time to see the facilitator mark the start of a mock duel. Keeping to the back, I watched carefully, curious as to how the other candidates under Lady Vera were doing.
Having the privilege of being taught by her personally, I had only rarely seen the others and had been told nothing of their skills.
Two cadets faced off, eyeing each other warily. One was a thick-necked boy fighting in the traditional sword and shield style. His opponent carried no weapon but held himself with a confident readiness that made me think he was likely the stronger combatant.
When the facilitator signaled for both cadets to ready themselves, the weaponless boy held out his empty hand and shouted, “Form!”
A glowing yellow spear coalesced into his hand.
Immediately, the crowd roared with surprise and pride.
“It’s an actual ki weapon!” an older gentleman exclaimed.
“And he formed it so fast,” another man beside him added.
If it had been a year ago, I would’ve reacted just like them, perhaps even more in awe because of my disability. It didn’t just take a lot of time and effort to form a ki weapon but a sufficient amount of ki as well.
However, I knew from my many lessons with Lady Vera that this cadet’s spear was no better than a glowing plastic stick at this point. True masters of ki weapons spent years physically crafting the type of weapon that they wanted to materialize. This was necessary in order to truly visualize how their ki weapon would manifest. From there, they would start by slowly enveloping their own ki around the type of weapon they wished to form. It was only after they had mastered this step that they transitioned into forming a weapon with just their ki.
This cadet, who couldn’t be more than a year older than me, had obviously skipped over a lot of the steps; it was obvious from how his weapon materialized and how simple the design was. The ki spear had sort of bubbled into existence, unlike how Lady Vera had manifested her own ki weapon, which had been solid and real, like light forged into steel.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel a touch of envy at the fact that he could do something that I would never be able to do. Unlike regular weapons, which had to be inspected and constantly kept within regulations by the World Committee to prohibit cheating, there were no such restrictions on ki weapons. This included even the Paragon Duels—duels among kings held to settle political disputes.
It was an advantage that many kings utilized, but a skill that I could never even dream of learning due to my shallow ki pool.
Putting aside my self-pity, I focused on the combatants. While most of these cadets were chosen through various talent agencies, they were all here because they met the Warbridge family’s standards.
“Begin!” the facilitator barked, taking a step back.
Steeling himself against the initial shock of seeing a real ki weapon appear, the boy with the sword and shield charged forward with a ki-infused step. He feigned a shield bash but pivoted to the right. Keeping his shield up, he swiped down at his opponent’s open thigh with his shortsword.
Caught off guard, the spear-wielding cadet stumbled back but managed to dodge the attack to his leg. He quickly regained his balance and wits and used his spear to create some space between him and his opponent. The rest of the duel unfolded as expected: The superior range and flexibility gave the spear-wielding cadet a critical advantage, and he eventually won. It wasn’t a one-sided battle though; the two cadets were well-matched in skill-level, and I could tell by how pale the winner’s face was by the end that if his opponent had managed to break his ki weapon, he wouldn’t have been able to materialize another.
Still, that didn’t keep the winner from gloating. With a nasty sneer on his sweaty face, he kicked the shield away from his opponent.
Rolling my eyes, I made my way towards the arena to check in with the facilitator.
“Oh look, it’s Lady Vera’s favorite pet,” one of the other cadets said as I approached, his voice carrying over the constant chatter of the crowd. The rest of the gathered cadets turned towards me, each one wearing a different expression… none of them particularly friendly.
Ignoring them, I walked up and waved at the stout facilitator. “I was told to do a few rounds before my ki meditation this afternoon.”
“Mmm, I was told you would be coming, but I don’t have a cadet assigned to be your sparring partner yet,” he grunted, lowering the protective barrier around the sparring platform and looking around.
I stepped up onto the elevated platform without a word and immediately began stretching out the knots in my muscles that came from falling asleep on the chair.
“I’m not sure I’d be able to pair you up accurately with someone since I’m not familiar with your level or combat proficiency. Anyone in particular you want to spar with, Cadet Grey?” the facilitator asked.
“Anyone’s fine,” I said, continuing my stretching routine.
“Let me go, Mr. Kali. I’d like to see firsthand how good Lady Vera’s crippled little pet project is,” a familiar voice jeered. It was the cadet who just sparred using his ki spear.
“Mason! Keep your tongue in check while you’re in my dueling arena,” the facilitator admonished the sneering
boy before turning to me. “Is that acceptable, Cadet?”
I stood up, looking him over while stretching my arm. “I’d prefer an opponent that's in better condition.”
Mason slapped his palms on the arena floor. “I can beat you silly with both feet anchored to the floor! Mr. Kali, let me teach this cocky brat a lesson!”
There was a beat of hesitation, but the facilitator waved Mason up onto the arena. “Put on your protective gear. Cadet Grey, pick out a weapon.”
After putting on the ki-infused chest and head piece, I picked out a single-edged short sword from the rack. I checked its balance like Lady Vera had taught me, performed a couple of short, precise cuts with it, then walked backed to the center of the arena.
“Just the single sword for you today, Cadet Grey?” Mr. Kali asked, eyeing my choice of weapon curiously.
“Yes sir,” I replied simply.
Mason waited for me to be watching before he materialized his ki weapon. Raising his hand dramatically, his eyes locked onto mine, the glowing spear materialized under his palm. The process was noticeably slower this time.
Mr. Kali looked first at Mason, who nodded, then to me, and I mirrored the gesture. His expression suddenly serious, the facilitator chopped down with his hand “Begin!”
While I had no intention of letting this duel drag on, I knew that I couldn’t rush in like the previous cadet had. Lady Vera had drilled into me the need to pace myself, to minimize my movements, to expend my ki precisely because of my shallow ki pool. I stood my ground, waiting for Mason to make the first move, not even falling into a proper stance. In fact, I purposefully left my neck wide open.
“Is this a joke?” Mason scoffed, pointing the tip of his glowing spear at me.
“The duel has already begun,” I replied simply, giving him an innocent smile.
“Don’t blame me if you end up physically crippled as well, no-name,” he snapped before bursting forward in an explosion of ki.
I had to admit that his charge was impressive, especially considering how much ki he had already spent. Still, to my eyes, his intention was clear, his movements telegraphed. My natural reflexes and perception had been honed to a sharp point by Lady Vera and her team of coaches.
At the last moment, I sidestepped his thrust and slashed at his right hand. His thin protective aura of ki shuddered, absorbing the impact, but Mason still winced in pain. Taking another precise step, I feinted toward his right hand again, bringing my blade down from a different angle. Mason shifted, trying to raise his spear up to block, but the twitch in his shoulder told me exactly where his next move was going to be.
By the time he positioned himself to block my strike, I had corrected the trajectory of my swing, and my blade slammed into his gloved fingers for the second time.
Mason grunted in pain, but he held on to his weapon. I had to give him some credit for that, at least. It was over at that point, though; his confidence was broken, his ki was spent, and he couldn’t even grip his spear correctly. He circled around me several times before building up the courage to lunge again, but if his previous attack had been telegraphed, this thrust happened in slow motion. Not wanting to break his hand, despite his insults, I sidestepped again and slammed my shortsword into the ki-spear just above his handhold. The spear shivered in his hands, then shattered, falling to the arena floor in a shower of sparks.
Mason was on the ground, my sword pressed against his chest guard, before he even had time to register a look of surprise.
The next volunteer to fight me was not nearly so cocky. By the end of my warm up, the looks of pity, indifference, and disrespect the other boys had given me had been wiped clean.
I let out a long, satisfied sigh after taking a deep drink from a soda bottle I had kept hidden from Lady Vera. It was lukewarm, but the sugary carbonation helped me in ways no amount of training and healthy foods could.
The duels were over, and I had showered and changed into more comfortable clothes for my meditation. I was walking through the halls of the Warbridge estate when I heard a familiar voice from the floor below.
I ran down the stairs. Lady Vera had been spending much less time at the estate, and much of my training had been handed over to her team of coaches, so I was excited to greet her. I stopped in my tracks, though, when I saw an unfamiliar man with her. I couldn’t see his face, but he wore a military-style uniform.
“Yes. Yes, I understand. I’ll let him know that he has qualified,” Lady Vera said to the man, speaking softly. “He might get curious, but he’s not too greedy about actually competing so I don’t think he’ll press me too much,” she continued.
I couldn’t make out the man’s response as Lady Vera escorted him across the hall and into her sound-proofed study.
“Of course. Yes, she won’t be mentioned. I understand. Thank you. You’re right. He’ll have to fight at least once in order to appease the masses. We’ll prepare Grey for the district—” The study door shut with a click, sealing their conversation away from my burning ears.
230
Anchor
ARTHUR LEYWIN
I let out a sleepy groan, barely able to hear my own voice over the wind rushing past us. Propping myself up on Sylvie’s spiked back, I scanned my surroundings.
I could see the flying castle in the distance, and for the briefest moment, I felt excited; Tessia was here, which was the real reason I hadn’t gone straight to Etistin to prepare for the upcoming battle. That brief sensation of happiness created a wriggling guilt in my stomach, though, and I pushed it back down, embracing the emotionless void.
The castle guards, noticing Sylvie, separated into two lines, forming a path to the landing dock, which slid open soundlessly as we approached.
I had to hand it to the artificers of the olden days—those wise and powerful mages were responsible for not only lifting an entire castle up in the sky, but an entire city as well, and connecting each major city with a teleportation portal. The knowledge and power required to complete these feats of magical mastery was awe-inspiring.
It begged the question: what really happened to them? Finding out the answer to that question wasn’t exactly at the top of my priority list, though, and I let the thought drift away.
Let's get this over with quickly. I’m ready to vent some emotional baggage on a Scythe or maybe a few retainers, I conveyed, hopping off my bond.
Surprisingly, the landing dock, which was usually filled with activity and noise, was completely empty aside from a lone figure by the door. It took me a moment to realize who it was because of how different he looked.
The powerful confidence that Virion usually radiated was gone, his lighthearted smirk replaced by a grim, tired expression. His silver hair was unbound and the robes he wore looked a tad too big on him, as if he’d lost weight. Still, seeing me and Sylvie, his face softened into a relieved smile.
The old elf immediately wrapped his arms around me.
I was stunned. My body froze, and, for a moment, my mind went blank.
“Welcome back. You did everything you could, Arthur… you did great,” he said softly, his voice so familiar, yet seemingly unfamiliar at the same time.
The frigid shell of apathy that I had enclosed myself in—away from the anger, grief, and loss that were trying to claw their way inside me—cracked.
It could’ve been the warmth of his embrace, or the kindness of his words, but I broke wide open, and it all came pouring out. I pressed my face into Virion’s shoulder and let the tears run free, shaking and sobbing like a child, his words echoing in my mind.
You did everything you could. You did great.
Sylvie remained silent, but I felt her small hand rest softly on my back, conveying just as much emotion as Virion’s embrace.
Commander, Lance, and asura… We stood there, alone in the large empty room, huddled together, forgetting just for a moment who we were.
I held my fist up to the door but paused, reluctant to knock.
I don’t t
hink I can do this by myself right now. Are you sure you don’t want to see Tess with me? I asked my bond, who was still in our own room.
‘She needs you right now. Just you,’ Sylvie replied coolly, and I felt her block our mental connection, leaving me stranded.
Virion had said the same thing. Tessia had locked herself in her room, refusing to see anyone, especially those that wanted to help most.
If her own parents or grandfather couldn’t get to her, how could I?
That was my excuse, anyway. Really, I just didn’t feel up to being anyone’s support right now, not when I could barely hold myself together.
But still, Tessia needed my help, just like I had needed Sylvie’s and Virion’s.
I pushed down the darkness, all of the bad thoughts, and put them away for now. I’d deal with my own losses in my own time.
Holding my breath, I knocked on the door.
No answer.
I knocked again. “Tess, it’s Arthur.”
She didn’t answer, but I could hear her light steps approaching the door. After a moment, the door slid open and our eyes met.
I had seen so many emotions come alive through those vivid turquoise eyes of hers—laughter, joy, anger, determination—but this was the first time I’d seen such utter despair. It hurt me to see her like this; I wanted to turn away. Instead, I stepped into the room, my mind racing. She looked tired, disheveled, like she hadn’t had a bath in days.
Clearing my throat, I said, “You don’t need help washing up, right?” My tone was light, teasing. I expected her to smack me, to roll her eyes, to laugh at my boyish stupidity.
Without a word, she shrugged out of her robe, completely throwing me off guard. I managed to turn away before I could see anything, but I nearly tripped over my own feet in the process, stumbling into the couch. I let myself collapse gracelessly onto the thick cushions and pressed my face into a pillow until I heard the washroom door close behind me.