by Heath Pfaff
The opening lecture was much the same as it had been my first year. I stayed attentive through the cues and then we were led off to the ring again, and my tension began to rise. I remembered last year only too well. For the first time in a long while I thought of Trilla. I’d only known her for such a short time, but her existence had brought into focus just how brutal this place could be, and I owed her a lot for that. Without her death, I would be dead myself, and I certainly wouldn’t have understood what it meant to truly need to fight. She’d brought into focus what it was to struggle.
“What’s happening?” Unnya asked, and it occurred to me that they never explained this part to the new students.
“We’re going to be paired off for fighting. A team with no winners will have to vote someone out of the training program. We’re not going to be one of those teams, but I recommend you keep your head about you. There are no real rules to the fights, and as soon as your name is called the fight begins. Hesitation here can get you killed.” I said, voice cold and precise.
“Two died here last year.” Clover added, looking at me with a quick, sympathetic glance. “Someone always dies. Don’t let it be you.” She said to the others.
“I’m not afraid of anyone here. There isn’t a single person I couldn’t take.” Kavack said, smile confident.
“There isn’t a single student in year two or better who couldn’t destroy you, Kavack. Just try not to get killed.” I growled at him, though a small part of me was hoping he would be killed.
Kavack’s back stiffened and he stepped towards me like he intended to throw a punch. I stepped in and kicked out the back his leg. As his body fell towards the ground I joined his momentum and came down with my knee on his throat. I had to break my own pace so I didn’t crush his windpipe and kill him, still he choked and sputtered.
“Calm, idiot. We’re on the same team. Anger gets you nowhere here. You need to be calm, cold, and collected at all times. Rage is a weapon, but it is your enemy's weapon if you let it take hold of you.” I warned him. His fighting was getting a bit weaker, hands struggling less and less as he began to black out. I eased off of him. He gasped for air as a few students around us watched, but most were disinterested. The real show was in the ring. Two people were already fighting. “You should be watching the fights.” I told him and Unnya. “There is a great deal to learn.”
He finally managed to get up, but he shot me a venomous look just before he turned to the display of combat before us. He was going to be trouble. He’d always think he was better than me, and he’d always be looking for a way to attack me when I turned my back. It was trouble waiting to happen.
“Lillin. Zarkov. To the ring.” The voice called out, and my heart hit heavily in my chest. It kept doing it, pounding like someone was striking me with a great mallet, but I moved forward on instinct. I couldn’t believe they’d pair us off to fight. We’d never fought each other before. I didn’t want to fight him. Of course it occurred to me that was exactly why we were being matched. They wanted us to break any kinship we had left, or to at least test if we could rise above that.
I entered the ring somewhat numbly and saw Zark enter across from me. He was massive and powerful, and he moved smoothly. He was a very capable fighter. I gave him a small nod, and he returned it, eyes fixed in determination. Neither of us could afford to lose this fight. We didn’t know what was coming next. The rest of our teams might lose, and then someone would have to go. We couldn’t fail. That was why we’d been called so early. We were forced to fight our most aggressively.
We met in the middle of the ring, but there was no hand shaking or making up for old times. Zarkov led in with a powerful strike that would have easily staggered me had I not sidestepped it. I swept low, aiming for his legs, but he was dodging back even as I moved, anticipating my strike. We’d both specialized in similar hand to hand styles, and it was showing here. He knew the answers to all my moves, and I knew the answers to his. He delivered blows with more force than I could, but my strength was longer lasting, it always had been. Unfortunately he knew that, and he was faster than me to the strike, if not on the leg. He pressed hard, pushing me as quickly as his body could move, and maybe a bit faster than mine could. He slipped a punch beneath my defenses and hit me in the stomach, knocking me backward and sending waves of nausea rippling through me as I staggered backwards and tried to regain my footing.
I drew back and consolidated my efforts to attacking again. I delivered a massive offensive flurry, putting absolutely everything I had into knocking him off balance, but he was just a little bit quicker in combat. I tried to keep on the attack, but I wasn’t able to keep up with the pace he was setting and he slipped another punch through my defenses, this one clipping me in the side of the face and ripping my eyebrow open. Blood flooded down my face and I reeled back in pain, unable to stop the world from spinning for a moment.
Of course he wasn’t going to go easy on me. He came on strong, swinging and kicking as I retreated, trying to gather myself again and rebalance my position. It was difficult to recover from a mistake, and Zark wasn’t making it any easier, but he got over confident, or too eager to end things quickly, and he stepped wide. I dove on the opportunity, lunging forward low and behind his guard. I dropped an elbow into the back of his knee, and then twisted my body through his stance. I punched him in the balls, hard, and the fight was over. He toppled to the ground and I put him in a suppression hold until he gave in.
It took him a while to get back to his feet, and I felt terrible for hurting him like that. It was the first time I’d ever intentionally touched his manhood, and I certainly hadn’t been kind to it. No doubt that would be a rift that was hard to overcome. He shot me a shaky smile as we parted and the next contestants were called. The battle had been fast, faster even than it had felt, and I’d won, but only barely. If he hadn’t pressed so hard and had just kept using his speed to pick away at me around my defenses, I didn’t think I would have lasted more than another hit or two. I was lucky.
As I returned to my group, still dripping blood, the new members of our team were looking at me in shock. To their eyes I’d just taken out a monster of an opponent. They had no way of judging us other than size. Even Kavack was quiet now, nothing smart to say as I returned from battle. It was just as well. I didn’t have the patience for him. A welling of guilt was rising up in me. I hadn’t wanted to hurt Zark. I hoped he’d forgive me. The smile at the end made me feel like he might, but I couldn't be sure. If things went badly for his team he might well hold a grudge. My stomach sank.
Several others were called as I fought with this internal struggle, but finally Kavack was summoned to the pit. He won his fight as well. It lasted longer than mine, though, and his nose was broken by the girl he fought, though she certainly got the worst of it. He beat her mercilessly into submission, climbing atop her and reigning his fists down on her even after she submitted. He came back gloating, his eye sockets turning black from his broken nose, and his smile a show of dominance. The girl he’d beat had been another first year, and she’d been much smaller than him. It was a sad thing to gloat over, really, sadder still that he’d abused her so thoroughly and taken pleasure from it. There was cruelty in Kavack, a great deal of it.
Clover was out next, and she won her fight as well. Hers was short and concise. She fought against a third year woman who was much slower than her, but also much stronger.
It was a while before Unnya was called, and when she was, it was to pair off against a third year boy much larger than she was, and clearly more adept. The fight was short and brutal, and ended with me having to go and pick her up with Clover. Kavack didn’t help. Afterwards, the groups retreated to the healing tents, mostly splitting up, though Clover and I stayed to make sure Unnya got some care before we parted company with a friendly nod. We wouldn’t be running the Rift, and that was at least something.
I returned to my room to find Tarn laying in bed groaning. He had two black eyes and was mo
ving rather stiffly. I could only guess that he’d taken a bad beating, but not enough to warrant any serious healing. They liked to leave you with some pain. I’d lived with it long enough that I barely noticed it at times. It was strange the way that you could, if needed, just ignore the pain.
“My team lost.” He said miserably. “I don’t think the fights were at all fair. The girl they put me with was so much better than I was.”
“Life isn’t fair. Those fights are designed to teach you lessons about the assumptions you make concerning life. Nothing is sacred. No friendship is too deep, no situation taboo when it comes to battle. Sometimes you will have to fight those you consider friends, and sometimes you’ll have to fight people that you don’t think there is any way you can defeat. You have to find a way forward.” It sounded crass and heartless, but that’s how I felt too. Having to beat down Zark had put me in a dark place, and I wasn’t sure I liked it at all, but what other choice did I have? If I’d lost, that would have just made me a larger target for Kavack. I’d freed myself of that, but at the cost of hurting someone I cared for.
“This is harder than I thought it would be.” He said quietly.
I laughed a bit darkly “Tell me about it tomorrow night.”
“What does that mean?” He sounded scared.
“Oh, it’s better if it’s a surprise.” I turned over and drew my blankets up around me without offering any elboration.
“Hey, I want to know what you meant by . . . “
“Shut up, sleep. You’ll need it.” I told him, and then I closed my eyes and drifted off into darkness. There was no safety in sleep, however. Things were worse inside my head than they were in real life.
5.1
Months passed, hard months. Team events had become nightmares for me. Kavack was becoming more physically capable, and even more difficult to manage as he got it in his head that he was superior to everyone, and that he should have his way. He kept trying me, pushing at my limits, and each time I was forced to aggressively put him back him down. He feared me. I could sense that weakness in him, but instead of being cautious and careful, his fear urged him onward. He liked to face his fears. He felt if he could defeat them he wouldn’t have to fear them anymore, and it wasn’t the wrong attitude to have, but he didn’t execute upon it in a healthy way. Every time I beat him his fear grew stronger, and every time he came back more aggressive than the last. He was going to cost someone their life eventually. I hoped it would be him. That was certainly a bleak desire to have, but I’d rather have seen him die than anyone else in my group.
I liked Clover and Unnya seemed strong as well in some ways, though she seemed to have a weakness for Kavack. I was fairly certain she had a crush on him, which wasn’t wise. I didn’t doubt he’d take advantage of that if he figured it out. Luckily, he wasn’t very smart. He wasn’t exactly stupid, but he had a real failing when it came to actually thinking before he acted, and that didn’t get you far at the school. I hoped he’d wash himself out sooner rather than later.
These thoughts were still pouring through my head as I headed back to my room after a long day in the Rift. We’d been in the desert variant, and I was chafed in terrible places, and still feeling dehydrated.
I nearly jumped out of my flesh when a cloaked figure stepped out in front of me. I reached for a weapon I didn’t have before I saw the Warden symbol and forced myself to calm.
I opened my mouth to ask what was needed of me, and then I saw the face. It was Ghoul. I hadn’t seen him since he’d had me swiped from the Rift over a year before. “Ghoul?” I asked, surprised.
“Oh, you remember!” He said, sounding excited. “Come with me.” He gestured with a hand, and then he was walking quickly, turning down halls I’d never been down before. I followed hot on his heels, my nerves running high. It was late. I was supposed to be returning to my room. There were penalties, steep penalties, for wandering around where I wasn’t supposed to be. I hoped that Ghoul would vouch for me if any trouble came of this, but I couldn’t be certain. The man was very strange, possibly insane.
We walked for what felt like a long time, and then abruptly we turned and passed through a narrow door that set us on a path heading downward at a steep angle, broken occasionally by sets of ragged stone steps. The air seemed to change as we got lower, and as we passed under an arch in the path it took an abrupt turn for the worst. Instead of the dry, stale air from above, it became wet and fetid, smelling like mold and death. I choked a bit on it and Ghoul laughed.
“Yes, I forget that most people aren't accustomed to the way things are down here. These catacombs were here before this city was. The city was built atop them intentionally because there is power here, a power older than all of us, old and dark. We chose this site for the school because we knew we could connect it to these tunnels. The Will users, Wardens, have sought the secrets here for years, but it’s so hard to understand these mysteries. They’re different than our power. I tapped some of them for the golems, though. In a way they’re like the doors, but they’re different too. Old things, dark things. I don’t think people would be happy if they knew about what is down here.” He looked back at me and grinned. “You won’t tell anyone though.” The grin fell away and I felt dark, terrible rage sweep over me for a second. “You won't tell anyone.”
I was shaking my head, and I knew that I wouldn’t. I wasn’t sure if he was compelling me, or if it was all the terror that I felt, the threat in his words, but I had no intention of ever telling anyone about this. He was nodding. “Good, great. Secrets are important.”
We went deeper still, the tunnels becoming strange. They were no longer of paved stone, but instead looked like they’d been burrowed out by some kind of giant beast, rounded and uniform, but somehow natural as well.
For a very small moment, a length of time that lasted the moments between one blink and the next, I thought I saw a man in the tunnels with us. He was on a side path that we were not taking. He was dressed in black clothing, with pale white skin, and just as he was turning his head in our direction I blinked and he was gone entirely.
The strangest part was that for a moment, as he’d been turning to face us, I had been terrified to the core of my being. I’d almost screamed. My legs felt shaky, and I had to take a few breaths to steady myself, but whatever I’d seen was entirely gone. There was no sign of the man in the strange black clothing. Had he ever really been there at all? I tried to push him from my mind, and before long I had mostly succeeded, except for a shadow that lingered somewhere in the back of my conscious, a giant, worm-like shadow, ready to burrow holes into the recesses of my mind where I hid all of my greatest fears.
We walked a while longer and the tunnel we were in opened up into a huge underground chamber. Again, it didn’t look like anything that had happened by chance, but more like something that had been meticulously and precisely eaten out of the rock. We came out onto what seemed like a beach and there was a path ahead of us that moved onward into an increasingly dark area. Up until this point there had been sconces hammered into the walls, torches burning to keep the area lit, but out across the walkway in front of us there was no light. To either side of the path, and lapping up against the shore, was a dark black liquid that smelled of death and putridity, a strange, sickly sweet smell that dug at my nose incessantly as though it was trying to claw its way into me.
“What is this place?” I asked, and my voice sounded small and close. It was as though I was talking with my mouth pressed directly against a wall. I’d expected my voice to echo in the large chamber, but instead it felt like it barely passed beyond my lips.
“This is the Cauldron, it’s where I draw the materials that I use to make the golems, the gears and the hooks, they all come from that black liquid.” He answered, and his voice was close and small as well. “The liquid . . . where that comes from . . . “ He went quiet, either unwilling or unable to elaborate.
I didn't really understand. It didn’t make sense to me that the
strange black liquid could be formed into solid things, or that this man, who by all accounts was ancient, had no idea where it had come from. It did look thick, but how it could be taken and formed into metal components was beyond me. It seemed strangely alive, as though it was possessed of a will of its own. It bubbled at the shore, moving with the force of some kind of tidal action, but also in a way that had nothing to with the motion of any moon. It seemed constantly in conflict with itself and the laws that should have governed its existence.
“Why did you bring me here?” I asked another question, if for no other reason than to try and fill the silence that was only cut into by the otherworldly sounds of the dark liquid.
Ghoul looked at me, his head cocked to one side. He looked confused for a moment. “I don’t know.” He shook himself a bit, like casting off a bad memory. “Well, I know why I brought you, but I don’t know why I went to find you, or how I knew I would when I left here. Maybe it was Will alone that guided me. Maybe it is some shred of compassion that made me seek you out, or maybe it is the exact opposite of that. Maybe this is cruelty. I am a creature of malice and darkness.”