The Lotus Effect (Rise Of The Ardent)

by Bridget Ladd

  Good thing I had a month to figure him out.

  ~

  Both the crowd and the Sector fighters fidgeted restlessly while we watched the announcer take a small break to refresh himself. He patted his damp forehead with his kerchief and sipped from a glass of water before he finally started the second portion of the Drawing process. This part was always wrought with the most anxiety. Anyone who volunteered their name, already accepted the possibility that they would be chosen to fight. This next part however, could either make or break a pairing. For now came the drawing that determined every Sector’s Barrage weapon specialty.

  Each team was to implement the style of weaponry into their fighting technique. From what I was told this was based from an ancient tradition in our history. Like many other stories of our past, its origins had been lost and would remain that way. The extinction of the Elders of the city made sure of that.

  I shifted on my feet as I watched the announcer return to his place beside the Drawing box. Sighs of relief and annoyance whispered throughout the perturbed crowd. It was not as if they were allowed to take a break from the heat of the sun.

  I watched my father rise from his seat and exit with two other Council members. If I had to make a guess, they were convening to make a decision on their choice of Council Sponsor. A decision which mattered little to me.

  I stood patiently and tried to mimic Xander’s demeanor as we would yet again be the last Sector to be drawn. The announcer waited for the gears to spring to life and move into place before he dug down into the golden box, and began calling out each Sector’s specialty one by one.

  I ignored the extra fluff that the announcer added to his speeches and honed in on the particulars. My mind ran too frantic to do little more.

  Sector 1: Affery and Afina were to become Thraex, implementing the Crescent Knife fighting style. They seemed pleased with this outcome as they nodded their approval and looked at each other knowingly.

  Sector 2: Percival and Fin were to fight as Venators; those who scientifically engineer mechanical beasts to fight along with and aid them in battle. At this angle, I couldn’t gauge their reactions, though when Percival turned I saw a satisfied smile curve upwards on his face, his eyes depth-less as they stared into the crowd.

  Sector 3: Gerald Chapman, and Hugo Miller would be the Laquearii, also known as the lasso fighters. They too seemed pleased with this selection. Sector 3 had been hoping for Laquearii for over thirteen years now. Exclamations of approval emanated from the Sector 3 stands which distracted the announcer briefly before he continued with a huff.

  Sector 4: Brutish Damaris and Margie received Paegniarii. Perfect. Those two will feel right at home with their massive Klaives. They looked the type who would enjoy butchering their enemies.

  Sector 5: Sir Norbert and Charles Nampier, the two older men complete with their matching mustaches, would have the privilege of shooting at the rest of us with their Gatling guns—for they received the artillery specialty known only as the Polybolos.

  Oh, how I cannot wait.

  Sector 6: Bubbles McGee and Henry Harnister, who both nearly knocked me over, rejoiced over being chosen to fight with the Cestus. The Cestus being the name of both the fighter and the weapon used. If my memory served me correctly, this meant that Bubbles McGee and Henry Harnister would be allowed to fight using only their iron-spike covered fists.

  How convenient.

  I wouldn’t have been at all happy with getting the selection of Cestus, but it seemed to please both Bubbles and Harnister by satiating their male testosterone needs. At least I thought so until I heard the excited whispers of those in front of the stage. Apparently, Bubbles McGee already knew a little something about unauthorized street boxing.

  Now I see why he’s the little boy’s hero . . . .

  Fan-tas-tic.

  Sector 7: Scottie and Giles were chosen as Retiarii. The net fighters. Over the years this seemed to be the most taxing of the styles. Maneuvering the nets while trying to fight off your opponents had proven difficult. Scottie and Giles both groaned in unison when the announcer had given them the news. They obviously understood they wouldn’t have it easy in the coming days, having to haul a net around as their only weapon.

  Knowing they disliked their style brought some joy to this eventfully dramatic day I was having.

  Finally, it was Sector 8’s turn. I glanced towards Xander with arms braced behind my back. He shrugged his eyebrows up at me, his only sign of camaraderie.

  My mind raced through all the possible styles, and tried to remember what had already been chosen and what still remained. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow before the announcer finally called out our names and reached into the box.

  “Dimachaeri!” he shouted.

  I scrunched my brow at Xander, not understanding. I had a decent knowledge of the weapon specialties, but Dimachaeri danced precariously along the edge of my memory. A good number of the styles had not been chosen in the previous years, so many of them remained vague and existed only as descriptions in books.

  It was only until an illustrated image came to mind. A crudely depicted man was drawn holding a sword in each of his hands as he stood defensively across from his invisible opponent.

  Dimachaeri, were dual-wield fighters.

  ~

  I would’ve preferred Sagittarius with its ranged attacks, to be quite honest.

  Being smaller in comparison to most of the other competitors, I didn’t have any desire to fight in close quarters. Afina, who was the only one comparable in size, looked quite capable of holding her own. I sighed, resigned to the decision. I would have to assume having two swords was better than having a net.

  Xander looked satisfied about the decision of Dimachaeri. I already knew he was deadly enough with those mechanical daggers that ejected from his sleeves. He would make do. Dimachaeri would most likely be second nature for him. For me? The only hope I had was to be able to dance my way around our competition. But I doubted back-handing an opponent while I pirouetted around them would reap any benefit.

  Swallowing hard, the nerves began to claw their way under my skin again.

  In the early days of the Barrage, a great feast honoring the participants concluded the events of the Drawing. In recent years, all formalities had been disbanded in lieu of expediting as much time as possible to work on armor designs. After all, who wants to get chatty with someone they may have to kill? I tended to agree with the new system. The Barrage shouldn’t be preempted with a flamboyant Meet-and-Greet of one’s future enemies.

  I silently thanked whoever made the decision to not have the opening feast after today’s proceedings. I needed as much time to design and build my armor—otherwise, I would be dead within the first moments of the Barrage. There wasn’t a moment to waste.

  I nearly groaned out loud when the announcer continued his speech of how it was now time for the Council to select the Sector which they chose to sponsor. Knowing they would never choose Xander and myself, I was anxious to leave the stage and be done with this.

  Upon the Council members’ return, my father stood from his seat and projected his authoritative voice into the crowd, “As Head, I speak in honor of the Council, and after a thorough meeting, we have decided to choose Sector 7 to fight for our cause. Will you Sector 7 agree upon this arrangement and forfeit your right to the Law? Or do you choose to pass this given opportunity?”

  Scottie didn’t even look for Giles’ or Sector 7’s consent before he puffed out his chest and shouted back towards my father, “It would be a pleasure to fight for the Council’s honor. We, in turn, shall forfeit our right to the Law in return for your assistance,” he added before bowing.

  My father nodded with a reserved look upon his face. “So be it. In return, your team and your Sector will be greatly rewarded because of this alliance. May your battle be a prosperous one.”

  Scottie and Giles smiled their cheeky smiles again which turned my blood boiling. Then I remembered why the
y smiled.

  Bloody Bones.

  They no longer had to be concerned with having to fight as Retiarii. With the expert Council designers and the many credits that will be thrown their way, losing will be difficult even if they were made to fight with cumbersome nets. After seventy eight Barrage tournament years, the Council Sponsored Sectors have yet to lose, and Scottie and Giles knew that.

  I ignored their boastful stares as they turned to gauge my reaction. This really wasn’t going to be easy. Judging from last night, Xander was a brilliant fighter, but he wouldn’t always be there to protect me. I was not naive enough to hold stock in that notion. I didn’t expect him to be my hero or lackey. I needed to learn how to protect myself and I needed to learn quickly.

  I was once told by Grandmother Everette—on a day that I had no desire to attend my dance tutoring—that ‘the more you sweat in practice Lily, the less you bleed in battle.’

  I never fully understood what she had meant. Until now.

  For both my life and Xander’s, I could only hope she was right.

  Chapter 10

  A New Home

  I was the first to leave the stage after being dismissed by the small attendant who waited below the platform. Pulling my hood over my head in a rush, I hastened away from the crowd in an attempt to leave behind the cloud of whispers that now weighed heavily upon my shoulders. I relaxed only after stepping into the cool alleyway beyond the market square.

  The day had warmed significantly as evidenced by the sweat that now beaded down the back of my neck to rest uncomfortably between my shoulder blades. I should’ve waited for Xander, but I had to get away from the people, the smells, the looks—all of it was becoming too much after the events of the past few days.

  Decisions that I could no longer run away from.

  “You know, you shouldn’t worry. Some of the best fighters do not feel entirely comfortable being in crowds. It overloads the senses.”

  I looked up and was surprised to see my newly acquired partner, leaning with arms and legs crossed against the brick building to my right. Still not used to the ease in which Xander snuck up on me, I swallowed in my shock and overwhelming emotions at the sight of him.

  “Is that so?” I asked dispiritedly. I slouched down against the cool brick with my right leg extended and my other arched. I held the satchel, with my only possessions inside, close by my hip.

  Xander surveyed me without so much as a word between us. The silence lingered so long, I had to break it.

  “Why’d you do it? Why did you volunteer your name at the last possible moment?” I finally asked.

  “The same reason as you,” he replied.

  I looked at him unconvinced until he felt the need to elaborate.

  “We seem to share a similar . . . disdain with regards to the activities of the Council.” He shifted his weight. “You’d make a good partner.”

  I rolled my eyes to the sky, shaking my head with a mad laugh. “I’m not a fighter. Not like you, Bubbles McGee, or even Scottie—who have been trained to kill since birth! You joined because you saw me as a charity case and you know it,” I shot out spitefully. “I should be fighting alone, dying alone if it comes to that,” I said more quietly as I fixed my attention upon the moss covered stones that tickled beneath my fingers.

  Feeling ashamed, I returned to acknowledge him and found his outstretched hand waiting for me.

  “Let me show you something.”

  Sighing, I tentatively placed my hand in his, allowing him to help me stand. I followed him further down the shadowy coolness of the alleyway, taking comfort in the silence. I turned, watching over my shoulder as the citizens filed out of the market and into the narrow alleys and for an instant I thought of the Warehouse. Of the animals not knowing whether they were being led to the feeding troughs or to slaughter.

  I looked away, facing forward. With the decisions I’d made and the paths I was now destined to travel, following Xander, my partner, was the only choice I had.

  ~

  Xander slowed after turning down another side street, one that lay on the outskirts of Sector 8, away from the noises and smells associated with the market square. He stopped and stood silently in front of a dilapidated, broken door, placing his hand flat against it. Two seconds later the door parted into halves and receded into the walls surrounding it. Another vault-like barrier stood behind it.

  “How . . . ?” I began to ask, but stopped, watching mesmerized as he began turning dials on the inner door. Gears rotated and clanked on top of one another as two large pulleys whined momentarily before the door whooshed open with an exhalation of air. Xander opened it further for me, and I noticed with surprise—and some concern—that it had to be at least six inches thick.

  “Welcome to my home and forge,” he said with a sweeping gesture that seemed somewhat forced. “I suppose it’s to be your new home too.” He looked at me and added, “If you’d like.”

  I raised a skeptical eyebrow, but was at a loss for words once I stepped through the entrance. Inside was a hanger with ceilings tall enough to house a small airship.

  In fact, there happened to be one lying in pieces across the table and floor in front of us.

  Xander noticed where I stared. “Found it broken up pretty badly beside the Wall.”

  “Beside the Wall?” I asked confused. “Airship parts are illegal to own. How did you get it back here without the Council knowing?”

  Xander shrugged. “I had Eu’jinx help me. Gave him something to do. Besides, I found this.” Holding out his hand, I gasped at what lay across his fingers.

  “Metallic Microlattice!” I nearly shouted. “You—you found this in my grandmother’s airship didn’t you?”

  Xander nodded, carefully placing the lightweight and intricately interwoven bronzed cube of metal on the gray surface of the table behind him. “I figured it would come in handy. I didn’t find much, but enough to put to use for energy absorption in our suits.”

  Our suits. Right. Another pang of worry stabbed at me.

  Though I nodded, impressed. Metallic Microlattice was utilized by my grandmother on . . . multiple occasions. A metal so lightweight it was comprised of nighty-nine percent air. So lightweight that my grandmother could rest it atop a dandelion’s stem without crushing it, so lightweight and strong she could create airships with it.

  I didn’t press him further. I was grateful for all his help and did not want to push his generosity by interrogating him on matters he probably shouldn’t be meddling with.

  “So . . . this is your smithy?” I asked. “And you live here?”

  Unsure of my tone, he nodded hesitantly.

  “It’s magnificent,” I said quickly, wanting him to know I approved.

  He didn’t quite meet my eyes when I looked at him. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or whether he cared at all if I liked it here or not.

  Swallowing, I looked above me. There were large rectangular glass windows in the ceiling that let in streams of natural light. It did remind me of where my grandmother had built and designed the giant airships. A twinge of sadness hit me then when thinking of my grandmother. Of all her wonderful creations. All of which had been destroyed.

  “You . . . all right?” Xander asked, noting the sudden change in my mood. He looked at me casually from over his shoulder, as if he didn’t really need to see me to know what I was feeling.

  Absently, I ran my finger across the jagged surface of a damaged propeller that lay across the table in front of me. “Yes, I’m fine. This place just reminds me of my grandmother and her work.”

  To my surprise, Xander stepped away from the table and faced me. “Mistress Everette was the best thing that ever happened to the Council. It’s unfortunate that good things are usually perceived as a threat.” There was a look in his eye that made me think he was not only referring to my grandmother.

  I smiled sadly. It was odd how many knew of my grandmother’s disappearance. Everyone had loved her. Everyone, excluding
Mother, and the Council of course.

  “Well, like I said, this is where we’ll be working . . .” Xander continued, obviously trying to change the subject and lighten the mood.

  I huffed out a small chuckle. “I got that much, thanks.”

  He grinned at me, but then his smile faded, returning to business. “I’ve already gathered the necessary materials for your suit and weapons. Now all we have is the simple task of putting them together.” He gestured for me to approach a table which I noticed was layered with sheets of Titanium metal.

  “Wait, what do you mean you already have the materials for my armor? How is it you joined late into the Barrage and yet you have all of this at the ready?”

  He eyed me curiously. “Blacksmith remember?” He shrugged. “Besides, I like to be prepared,” he replied, and offered no further explanation.

  Remembering how he had shown up to the Drawing, looking as though he had just sprinted over from being arms deep in a vat of coal dust—I was finding this preparedness of his hard to believe.

  I sighed and shrugged it off, returning my gaze to the table and ran my fingers across the smooth metal. “Titanium: the lightest and the strongest of the transition metals, being both ductile and malleable. A good choice for armor,” I said, listing off the facts I remembered from my tutoring. I looked up, a concern coming to mind. “Have you fracture tested it? I’m not sure I wholeheartedly believe what my books claim about its ductile transition temperature.”

  Xander inclined his head my way. “There’s no need to worry. I’ve tested it thoroughly. If it can survive a blaster cannon, it’ll hold up against anything we might encounter.” He smiled a little and crossed his arms. “I’m impressed, Lily. You know your metals.”

  “Yes, well.” I paused, not wanting to sound arrogant. “I was to become the next Mistress. I was practically force-fed the Periodic Elements from the day I was born,” I responded as if I had tasted something unpleasant, before scanning the shop. “Wait, how did you get a blaster cannon in here?”