The Afflicted Ch. 08

"You just made it, girls," he said with a raised eyebrow. The clock had tolled as they fell in.

"Tonight," he said, "we will have a slight change in usual order of things. You have two new students in your ranks. It would be best to begin by determining their skills. Tournament time. Since we have 31 current students in the Academy, Abby will get a reprieve in the first round. I will choose opponents. Grab a weapon and wait until your name is called. Standard rules apply. First blood denotes winner. No torso or head blows. Any blow must be delivered within or directly above the circumference of the battle ring.

The stoic guardswoman, Bullet, stood at Scaurus' side. Bullet crossed to a nearby chalkboard and drew out a simple bracket to track the winners.

"Aimée and Anders," shouted Scaurus.

Aimée had to suppress a blush as she walked into the ring. She couldn't help but wonder if Bullet of their very recent tryst. Whether he did or not, she and Anders were soon saluting each other with their blades and taking guard.

Whatever Anders' skill was, it wasn't flying but he was a very competent swordsman. He moved with the fluid grace of a dancer, but that didn't mean he wasn't a threat. Aimée was hard pressed to ward off his blows which came in almost fluid-like attacks. She was bound and determined not to use her gift for as long as possible. Twice, she was nearly forced to wink out but was able to parry Anders' sword. At last she saw an opening and lunged in. Surprisingly, he actually turned the wrong direction and instead of the mere nick she had intended, the blade sliced across his forearm and ended with a sickening ccrchhh sound as the blade sliced clear to the bone.

There was a universal gasp from the group as Anders turned white and pale from the immediate shock. Abby came running to his side and examined the cut with concern.

"Oh dear," exclaimed Abby. She placed her hand on his face and was stopped very quickly by Scaurus.

"None of your healing, young lady," he said sternly. "You're still fighting tonight and need your energy."

Abby turned and batted her eyes pathetically.

"But it's a two-day wound, Master Aurelius" pleaded Abby. "Can't I please help, just a little?"

"Young lady," said Scaurus without missing a beat. "I've had pretty young things trying to work their wiles on me since before your Great-great-great-great Grandmother was even born; girls with siren-like gifts, pure beauties, and even other empaths. None of their doe-eyes or accidental cleavage or anything else ever worked -- and neither will this. Let him bleed and learn his lesson."

Abby stamped her foot and crossed away.

Aurelius turned to Anders.

"As for you, my Scandinavian friend -- I'd like to remind you that pretty blondes with big tits are waiting for you in Valhalla. Save your weakness for them. While you're on this planet, treat all foes the same, bosoms or otherwise. Understood?"

Anders nodded and scuttled over to a bench to recover.

"You know," whispered a voice in Aimée's ear. "If I knew it was you waiting for me in Valhalla, I would willingly give up my life."

Aimée rolled her eyes and turned to face Jacob, the owner of the smarmy voice.

"That would be a shame," she said, scathingly. "Because I would be the one making you fetch me mead up in heaven -- not the other way around."

"Which I would gladly do," said Jacob without missing a beat.

"Oh my god," said Aimée in disgust. She turned her back on him once more and walked to the other side of the arena -- wanting to stay away from the boy she'd found arrogant and presumptuous since first laying eyes on him.

It was the perceived presumption that annoyed her. To Aimée, it felt as though Jacob knew she had experienced sex with him (by way of sharing Abby's memories). In her mind, it felt like he was assuming that because Claude had found this instant connection to Abby that Aimée would reciprocate in the same fashion with him.

She could also tell that he knew he was charming and attractive, in an offbeat way. It might have been her imagination, but it felt like he was just assuming she would sleep with him.

Next up in the fighting were two fliers who acquitted themselves well. Next, came Jackie against a boy from the other dorm. Jackie had an unusual style of sword fighting, using two blades -- one long and one short (much like Frederique). She did so with surprising dexterity and dispatched her opponent with ease, not even needing to use her flying skills. Aimée took note to take care if she ever had to fight the aggressive young woman.

Next came Claude against Oppo. By appearances, it would seem Claude would win easily but as soon as Scaurus blew the whistle to start - Oppo flew into the air as though flung by a catapult. Shocked, Claude followed him and was at an immediate disadvantage with Oppo constantly maintaining an advantage of height or distance.

There was no doubt that Claude had the stronger sword arm -- but that meant little when balanced by Oppo's superior flying skills. His tactics involved always staying just out of reach -- then darting in at the last moment for a strike.

Still, Claude acquitted himself well and their battle was the longest of the night so far. Five, then ten, then fifteen minutes passed. At last, Oppo seemed to tire and Claude moved in closer to engage. It was then that Oppo showed his clear superiority in the air. Just as Claude thought he was delivering the winning blow, Oppo spun and twisted on the vertical axis. This left Claude foundering in the air and suddenly at a great disadvantage as he attempted to parry blows from angles he had never even imagined.

After a blinding exchange, Oppo flitted to the right slightly and Claude's blade darted toward Oppo's unguarded arm. However, in his excitement, he failed to notice Oppo's own blade surging toward him. Both young men cried out in pain at the exact same moment -- with matching wounds in their left shoulders.

As Claude descended to the ground holding his bleeding arm, he realized two things. One, he had mountains to learn about aerial fighting. Two, his mother had been going incredibly easy on both he and his father. If Claude could be bested by a mere twenty-year old, he couldn't imagine what his six-hundred year old mother could accomplish -- or others with similar experience.

"Let's have a look," said Scaurus.

He crossed over to the two youths and examined the wounds in their shoulders.

"Well Oppo," he said. "I'd usually call this a tie, but since part of the purpose of this is to see our new students in combat, would you mind sitting this out?"

"I concede," said Oppo with a gentle smile. "His flying technique needs some work -- but by god I've never seen a faster sword arm."

The next round proceeded, and it came time for Abby to fight.

"I hate fighting," she whispered to Aimée as she picked up the short sword and chain she had chosen as weapons.

"I'd imagine," whispered Aimée in return. "To have to fight when you're blind; that's terrifying."

"Oh, I'm not scared," said Abby with a grin. "I'm bored, mostly. Plus, I don't like hurting people."

Bored? Mused Aimée as the curvaceous redhead took to the sand. She was fighting Victor, a mammoth boy from their dorm who was visibly shaking in fear.

"How will she win?" asked Claude in wonder to Jacob.

"How won't she win?" replied her brother. "Abby's been champion for three months now. No one can touch her, even when she doesn't cheat."

"How does one cheat in this?"

"Oh, it's not really cheating," said Jacob. "All use of gifts are allowed but Abby's advantages are so frightening, she rarely uses even a fraction of what she can do."

"How?" asked Claude.

"Just watch."

"Now, you know I won't hurt you very badly if I can help it," said Abby reassuringly to Victor.

"I know," muttered the huge boy. "But it doesn't make it any easier."

Victor circled Abby warily. Oddly, Abby made no move to face him. After perhaps two minutes of this -- Victor screamed and made a sudden lunge.

He could have been as swift as a rattle snake but it would have made no difference. Abby was gone before he even began moving and nearly everyone couldn't help but gasp in wonder as Abby knelt, pushed the chain over her head in a loop to wrap round Victor's wrist, and threw him to the ground -- all in a fraction of a second.

Her sword was just as quickly at his throat.

"Good enough, Master Scaurus?"

Scaurus nodded, a grim smile on his lips.

"How did she do that?" wondered Claude.

"She reads minds," said Jacob. "Imagine how difficult that would be. To fight someone who knows what you are planning before even you do."

"What's wrong with her eyes?" asked Claude -- who had noticed Abby's slightly odd stare for the first time.

"I'm blind, big boy," said Abby who was walking past. "But that doesn't mean I don't see things I like."

Jacob looked at the two of them with a curious expression. Claude had confessed to Jacob that he'd fallen for Abby. Knowing Abby as well as he did, Jacob couldn't help observing that there was more in her words than mere flirtation. There had been a different sort of glow on her face when she'd been near Claude. For the first time, he knew that Claude really was something special to his sister. He did his best to make peace with that.

Jacob was soon called to the ring and easily bested his first opponent -- a mousy girl from their dorm whose skills were in the sciences. She never even got a blade near him after he winked out. Within moments, he pinked her forearm gently from concealment, causing a wound that healed before they even left the ring.

A round later, Claude's shoulder had healed. He and Jacob looked at each other with amusement when Scaurus called out their names as opponents.

The two friends crossed to the weapons rack and examined their choices. Claude's eyebrows raised in concern when he saw Jacob grab a belt filled with throwing knives. He could certainly hover high out of reach -- but not indefinitely. Claude decided to keep his sword, but knew he needed other tools to have any hope.

His answer came from an unexpected place. Much like there would have been in Scaurus' time, there was a water bucket at the edge of the ring with a ladle for drinking. He grabbed it and carried it with him to the ring.

"What?" said Jacob, amused. "Do you plan on staying up there so long you get thirsty?"

"Something like that," said Claude with a grin.

While many of the students were laughing at Claude's odd choice, there seemed to be an air of approval on Scaurus's face as he blew the whistle.

Claude quickly ascended to a place high over the ring, all the while facing downward. Soon enough, a throwing dagger appeared out of nowhere -- sailing quickly toward him and barely giving him time to bat the flying blade away with his sword.

"Christ, he's got an arm," Claude muttered to himself as he sailed even higher. Another two daggers flew toward him, but the distance gave him an advantage and he was able to dodge quickly when he saw them emerging from his invisible opponent.

"One chance," he mused to himself. "Better make this count."

Watching where the next blade came from, Claude dodged, then tossed the contents of the bucket into the air. Taking the swing of a batsman, he swung the flat of his blade into the largest bulk of the water -- obliterating it to droplets. At the same moment, he threw the bucket toward the ground and then dove at a frightening rate to take a kneeling, guarded position on the ground.

He watched and listened intently. Jacob wasn't moving -- which was good. Moments later, the first droplets arrived. Claude's senses were more heightened than he ever remembered. He listened intently -- but also watched for what he hoped he would see.

"There," he thought to himself, as the silhouette of a man emerged just to his right -- around three meters away. The figure's arm was drawn back for a throw.

He dove to the left, just avoiding the knife which followed, then sprang as fast as he could, flying swiftly to where Jacob should be.

Claude tackled the invisible figure and struggled to find the arms -- knowing his only hope was in pinning them down. Yes, he had the right arm. However, Jacob twisted out of the way with his left and Claude grasped about in a panic.

It was too late. He suddenly felt a searing pain in his thigh, where Jacob had buried his knife.

"Sorry, my friend," said Jacob. He reappeared at the same instant he pulled out the knife.

"Don't worry about it," said Claude, taking the hand Jacob offered to help him up. Jacob kept Claude's hand in his and pulled Claude's arm around his shoulders, helping Claude limp off the field.

"Is it very bad?" asked Jacob.

"No," said Claude. "It was clean in and out, no slash. I'll be better in less than half an hour."

"Well done, you two," said Scaurus, offering rare praise. "Not that we have points, Claude -- but if we did you would have some extra ones for ingenuity."

Aimée's turn came again. This time it was against a girl named Diana from their dorm. She was aptly named, for she chose bow and arrow as her weapon. She was also a flier. She chose the same technique as Oppo and sailed with frightening speed into the air. As Aimée saw her opponent drawing her bow she realized it was time to reveal her skill and give up the element of surprise she'd been hoping for in later rounds.

It was none too soon. No sooner had Aimée relocated to the other side of the ring than the arrow went plunging into the sand precisely where her legs had been.

"Jumper!" was the phrase whispered by the students with great excitement. It was a rare occasion to meet a deplaceur, let alone have the occasion to battle one.

Diana adjusted quickly, however -- and Aimée was soon winking in and out at a rate of one jump per second.

At first she thought she would have the advantage of exhausting the other girl's quiver -- but she noted with chagrin that there were actually armament shelves placed higher up in the ring for the fliers. She had only a brief respite before Diana had grabbed another quiver and was firing once more.

It suddenly occurred to Aimée that there had been no rules placed on staying within the ring -- merely that the winning blow had to be struck somewhere within the imaginary cylinder of the ring.

She blinked out and found herself at the transport station outside of the dorm. Taking the moment to catch her breath, she devised a plan. Closing her eyes, she pictured the ring in her mind. Then, she visualized the space above it and 'whumphh' she was there, and falling.

She had intended on appearing perhaps one hundred feet above Diana in order to mask the sound of her deplacing. Once in the air, it was clear she had drawn a poor picture in her mind. She was not one hundred, but over one thousand feet above the ring.

She had practiced such things with Claude before, falling freely through the clouds above the ocean. They had learned that if one pulled their hands to their sides and aimed straight down, it was possible to change directions with tiny gestures. Of course, in those times she'd had Claude to fly her away.

She was barreling downward and smiled upon seeing Diana still aiming down toward the ring with her bow.

By the time Diana heard the whistle of air through Aimée's clothes it was too late. Aimée swooped past the archer, cutting a light gash in the girl's leg and at the same moment winked out.

She reappeared in the place she had done so often -- with Claude. All eyes were still watching the sky and no one even saw her as she materialized, wrapped sensuously around him... all from reflexive instinct. He looked down to her and blushed. She patted his cheek and gave him a light kiss on the lips.

Next, she stepped away and walked into the ring. Her appearance was met with enthusiastic applause as people saw her. She stood in the center and waited to greet her defeated opponent who was sinking shamefacedly to the ground.

"Sloppy work," said Scaurus to Diana. "Even if you knew she couldn't fly, that's no excuse for not guarding in all directions. In a real battle, I've seen jumpers drop fliers in exactly the same fashion. Well done, though, Aimée. You're also in luck, for we have Bullet here to instruct you."

The next two rounds were both depressing and exciting. Depressing for the other opponents, for none of them had any clue on how to defeat Abby or Aimée.

Jacob was actually one of Abby's victims.

"Good luck," muttered Claude to his tall, ginger companion.

"I don't have a chance," said Jacob. "She's further in my head than you can imagine and the damned girl is blind, to boot. What does it matter if I'm invisible?"

Jacob's words rang very true once the whistle was blown. As they watched Abby parry an invisible companion, they couldn't help but laugh upon seeing her grab her unseen opponent and flip him around. Jacob soon appeared, his head stuck between Abby's thighs, her dagger poised above his head.

"Good?" she asked of Scaurus.

"Fine," said Scaurus, shaking his head in frustration. "Never in all my days -- and that's a lot of days -- never, did I think a blind girl would be my most frightening fighter. And, she doesn't even care that she is."

Abby shrugged and flashed a Scaurus a cute grin, which exasperated him even more.

The most awe-inspiring demonstration was Abby's match against Jackie in the semi-finals. Abby had defeated her other opponents by simply out-moving the blows she knew were coming. However, her strategy against Jackie gave evidence of the young empath's frightening abilities.

The whistle blew -- and Jackie froze. She stood there, unmoving and unblinking. Abby calmly walked beside the statue-like girl and placed a poniard to her lovely neck.

"Victory, Master Scaurus?"

"Yes," said Scaurus with a sincere nod. "But you must tell us how you did it?

"She slowed things down," said Jackie -- who Abby had quickly released. "All the world stopped and then she moved at lightning speed and was there at my throat.

"But she didn't," protested Diana. "We all watched. She moved normally."

"Not to Jackie," explained Abby. "I slowed down her perception of the world to a snail's pace. Simple."

To the group, it wasn't so simple. It was a dazzling display of their friend's power.

Next, Aimée made quick work of her foe. The two friends realized they were fighting each other for top honors in the ring.

"What the hell," said Abby, resignedly. "We already fought each other once today. We might as well do it right."

"Agreed," said Aimée.

Aimée knew she had little time. Abby would most likely play by the rules, and that meant she wouldn't use her powers until the whistle blew. Aimée steeled herself and as soon as the first tweet sounded, she whisked away -- again to the platform.

It was lucky she did. Already, she'd felt Abby's mind reaching out. It was smoke she'd seen. Abby had intended on blinding her with illusions of smoke in Aimée's mind -- making it impossible for her to see. Aimée shook her head to clear the visions, and gave thanks that Abby's gift worked better with closer proximity to the person. She pictured Abby in her mind, standing patiently in the ring. Determining a strategy, she brought all of her attention to focus.

In.

She materialized not more than two feet from Abby. She thrust quickly, but already Abby's amazing mind detected Aimée's intentions and dodged out of the way. Instantaneously, Abby's mind was reaching out -- this time with the idea that Aimée's legs were stuck in thick mud.

Out.

Aimée was back again at the platform, away from Abby's grasping mind.