Tristan's Tale Pt. 05

Which was amazing. If you've ever been in the spotlight unwanted, you know how nice it is to be unrecognized. Some kind of pressure lifts when you're unwatched, and it's usually only in those moments that you realize how suffocating it was to be observed so constantly by so many people.

I knelt at the end of the line. It struck me as strange that they'd organize the beginning more or less like the Aikido classes I'd taken when I was twelve. Some of the carry-overs to this world made no sense.

Kelechi watched over the room as a few stragglers trickled in. I don't know how he knew when class started, but he began to talk out of nowhere.

"You all know the drill," he said in a calm voice. "Today's a regular practice. Here's some inspiration." He looked over at the people on my mat. "Thomas."

Thomas stood up and walked to Kelechi, who hopped off the pedestal like a feather who'd found it convenient to fall that way. As he did so, the pedestal lost its shape and color, and speedily flew to the pale yellow, slightly luminescent ceiling, where it spread out thinly until it wasn't visible.

Kelechi gestured to Thomas. "So, as you all can see, Thomas weighs about sixteen thousand tons. Right?"

Thomas laughed, his necklace bobbing on his chest. "Fifteen, last I checked." It was true. The guy was absolutely huge. Bigger than the twins, and they made me look like a pencil.

"Right," said Kelechi, "So we're going to cover something we've all talked about before. Look at me by comparison," he said, gesturing to himself. He wasn't skinny by any means, but he was thin. Most people in Caer'Aton -- the ones who'd been around for awhile, anyway -- had something approaching his musculature, but his stood out in its definition. You don't get those kind of clear, rippling outlines without some serious commitment. Wearing no shirt and only a pair of loose, canvas shorts, his toned muscles caught the torchlight, which flickered from the strange, smokeless torches that ringed the room. "I'm not a big guy, right?" he asked. "So what am I supposed to do when the hulk over here gets pissed 'cause I stole his milkshake?" He nodded to Thomas.

"HULK WANT MILKSHAKE," shouted Thomas, and threw a freight train of a punch at Kelechi.

The punch stopped right before his face. "If I've waited this long," said Kelechi, "My face is hamburger meat. So this is what you do." He gestured to Thomas again, who backed up, and repeated his punch.

About halfway through it, Kelechi snuck in and to the side, leaving his front foot between Thomas's legs. "So now he's going to miss," he said, "And we're here. But his momentum is going that way," he pointed along the direction of Thomas's tree trunk of an arm. "Which means he's vulnerable this way." He gave Thomas a light push, perpendicular to the punch's direction, and to the line of Thomas's feet. Thomas stumbled back a step.

"See? Fighting 101. More like .01, really, but I'll say anything to make you guys feel good about yourselves." said Kelechi, grinning. "See? Sometimes I'm nice."

People laughed in response. Sounded like the guy was a bit of a hardass, though I'd yet to see it myself. I frowned. Is this what class was like? Watching some guys do some basic footwork? I'd learned that much in the first minutes following my Chi, feeling along with him. Er, me.

"Realistically, he wouldn't toss punches," said Kelechi. "He'd bear hug you and then fall on you and suffocate you to death." Thomas grinned, growled a little in the back of his throat which, damnit, did sound pretty bearlike, and nodded to everyone watching, affirming Kelechi's statement. "But I'm just trying to show you guys," continued Kelechi, looking around at everyone. His gaze met mine, paused for a moment, and then moved on, "That size ain't everything. There's always balance points you can exploit. And, hey, if you're fast..." he said, nodding at Thomas.

Thomas bullrushed him with a roar. But Kelechi wasn't there. He'd squatted down, and in a flash, a pair of white silk gloves covered his hands. He got a hand on Thomas's chest and another on his stomach, and, suddenly, and rather impossibly, he surged upwards and sent Thomas flying through the air, his necklace dangling. Thomas landed on his side with a thud that shook the ground -- I felt it. More profoundly than I normally would have.

"Holy shit," I murmured as people oohed and aahed.

"See that?" said Kelechi, grinning. "He's not so tough, huh?"

Thomas stood up, smiling. "I still don't get how you do that."

Kelechi laughed. "Good alignment. Stealing your balance and momentum. Chi. Thousands of hours of training." He shrugged. "Take your pick."

Right. Thousands of hours. I only had three days to get to the Arena. Three days to make top twenty.

Without my Chi.

Kelechi flexed his fingers. "Alright? Don't get freaked out by size difference. I've been hearing way too much complaining about unfair fights. Your physique isn't a handicap, it's about the only thing you've got. So..."

He paused, looking thoughtful. "In conclusion, quit bitching." He pinched his fingers in his lips, and blew a brief, piercing whistle.

And like that, the room erupted into activity.

The people in line next to me shook hands, and moved to different sections of the mat. A bustle of conversation began as people rose from their knees, and made agreements to train.

And then, over the course of a few seconds, weapons appeared everywhere.

I would have known it even had my eyes been closed. Everyone was exerting tremendous will to bring out their weapons. It took incredible concentration. The people on my mat had the hardest time, their clubs and daggers -- I even spotted someone with a small, runed buckler -- taking longer to manifest. Thomas's oak tree of a club, I noted, had not taken him very long at all to create. He was pretty familiar with it, teaching the Course and all.

I thought that had been fast, and that was when I heard a clash of metal and a shout as two people on the mat opposite me had already started fighting. One man sported a long, silvery sword, and grinned as he watched his opponent swear as he clutched his side, where a bruise had already begun to blossom.

That was strange. Swords don't leave bruises.

At that point, I came to the conclusion -- in a way that had become dreadfully familiar -- that I had absolutely no idea what was going on. I headed over to Thomas before someone snagged him away from me.

"Thomas!" I called, moving through the people in his direction.

He looked over, his warm eyes creasing as he smiled. "Tristan!" he roared. "How the hell are you?"

I grinned. He practically exuded enthusiasm and goodwill. It was hard not to like the guy -- even when he beat you in the Course with the massive oak club he now toted in one hand, he managed to make it all part of the game. "Well," I began, "I've been-"

A blur of motion crossed my vision from the side, and without a thought, I sent my body underground.

Someone impacted into me, and it was like a ball being thrown at a mountain.

I looked over to my side, where a man staggered away from me, glaring in my direction. "Watch where you're going," he snarled.

I was going to respond, but didn't know what to say. My head reeled. I, what, I sent my body underground? What the hell? I hadn't moved. When he hit me, it had been as if he'd just run straight at a wall.

Thomas saved me. He loomed close to me, and nodded to the guy who'd run into me. "Easy. Tristan's new."

The guy snorted. "New? Where's his ribbon?"

Thomas paused, then looked at me. "Yeah, where's your ribbon?"

I sighed. "No ribbon, no explanation. They don't ever help me out here." I assumed they gave ribbons to the new guys so the others knew not to beat them up too badly.

Thomas looked at me suspiciously. "Never heard of anybody not getting a ribbon before..."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, now you have. Pleased to meet you."

The other guy was called back to training by his partner. Thomas gave my arm a squeeze. "It's alright, don't mind him. It all seems like a little much at first, but your Chi helps."

I looked at him. "What?"

He gestured around at everybody moving. "Look at it. It's a mess."

We'd taken refuge in the now relatively calm corner of the mat, and the respite gave me a chance to take in the room.

Thomas was right. There were people on the ground, people slamming into each other, falling, shouting, and through it all the clash of weapons gave the room an intensely chaotic feel. I felt overwhelmed, and I wasn't even a part of it.

"Your Chi helps to make sense of it all," said Thomas. "So what do you got?" He sounded pretty curious.

"Yeah," said Thad. He'd crossed over from the mat opposite us, with his twin brother, Jeff. "Let's see it."

I assumed they were talking about my Chi. I fought down my embarrassment and tried not to look as small as I felt while I gave them the short version of the story, leaving out the bits of a sentient Chi and most of the story of the stone giants.

Jeff whistled. "That's rough. You need to train to even be able to take it out?"

"Yup. Though how I'm supposed to go about doing that, I have no idea. I mean, this guy," I said, slapping Thomas's shoulder lightly, "Would pancake me inside half a second with his tree trunk."

"Nah," said Thomas, waving a hand dismissively. "I can't really fight worth shit."

"Okay, well even if I believe that, which I don't," I said, "You've still got the advantage of a massive log, and all the awareness your Chi gives you. That's what you meant, right?"

Thomas nodded. "It's hard to explain, but it puts things in order. Things get less jumbled when Oaky's out."

I stifled a laugh at the name. Huge as he was, intimidating as he was in the Course... Thomas was kind of adorable.

But I knew all too well what he was talking about. When my Chi had first come out, I'd been able to experience every millisecond with a kind of freshness of perspective I'd never known. Time had seemed to slow. I'd known exactly where to put my feet and how to move and swing a sword.

"I'll just have to make do, then," I said, shrugging. I looked at both of them. "So, what, either of you want to spar? How does this thing work? Do we just," I gestured around at everyone. "Roll around? Go at it?"

Thad shook his head. "There's not much point to fighting without your Chi. It really helps you out. I'd normally be happy to train with you, but with the Tournament coming up, I'm going to need all the practice I can get."

"Special orders from Jet," said Jeff. "We're on a mat-intensive schedule now."

"You're likely to get the same response from everyone who has even something so small as a dagger." Said Thad. "Even though dagger fighting involves a lot of pulling and grabbing with your free hand, which you could conceivably do, without your Chi it's not going to do anything for anybody you're training with." He looked at me apologetically. "Sorry. I wish I could help more, but there's not much I can do. I can offer you a quick suggestion, if you like."

I nodded. I'd take what I can get. "Shoot."

"First, you got to tell me how you bounced that guy off you. You didn't even see him coming -- I was watching on my way over."

I frowned. "I don't know, really," I said. "I think..." It probably had to do with becoming stonekin. The stone giants had accepted me as one of them, in a sense -- a gesture of gratitude for my help defending their grove. For a moment, I'd shared their awareness, and had experienced a profound understanding of the earth, sending out all my senses underground, knowing intuitively that it was my ever-present close companion.

I shrugged. "I couldn't tell you how I did it, since it was a reflex. But it sort of came out like sending my body underground."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. "You didn't go underground, in case you're wondering."

"Oh, no shit?" I said, a little frustrated. "It's hard to explain. Has Kiara ever done that thing with you guys, where she tells you to pay attention to your body?"

Thad grinned. "Oh yeah. A few times, over the years." He winked. "But what's that got to do with this?"

I laughed. It was easy to forget that at least one of the Odieh didn't all have Jet's stick up their ass. "No, probably not that. I meant the thing where she shows you that what you think of your body isn't really your body. It's just a feeling that you call your body."

Thomas frowned. "She tried to get that across to me, but I didn't really understand it."

Thad shrugged. "Me neither. But I think I follow. You just send a feeling of yourself downwards?"

I paused. "Yeah. Actually, yeah. That's it." I laughed. "Seems pretty simple when you put it that way."

"You're welcome," said Thad, smiling. He punched Jeff in the shoulder. "I'll use that to go beat up my little brother."

"I heard it too," said Jeff, exasperated, as if were the beginning of an argument they'd been having since they were two.

Thad ignored him. That was probably a part of the tradition, if I could tell anything by the gleam in his eyes. "But as for my suggestion, you, Tristan, having neither Chi nor a ribbon, should go hang with the boxers."

Something clicked. "Is that what Kelechi is? A boxer?"

Thad nodded. "He's a damn fine fighter, even though I beat him every time we spar, but he has to help everyone, so don't expect any personal lessons."

"Wait, why don't you teach, then, if he's better than you?"

Thad shrugged. "Ask Jet. I don't make the rules. Maybe he's a better teacher. Either way, I've got some good news and bad news."

"Hit me."

Thomas smiled, seeming to pick up on what Thad was saying. "The good news is that there are barely any boxers, so you will, in a sense, be getting some really personal training."

Awesome. That was exactly what I needed. I didn't have time to waste.

"The downside," said Thad, pointing to the corner, "Is that's where you're headed."

My eyes followed his gesture, and when I did, I sighed.

Things can't just go smoothly, can they? It must not be allowed. Somewhere in the rulebook of the fucked up, abusive, kidnapper Hogwarts known as Caer'Aton there must be a note, stating that nothing's allowed to be easy for me.

I bid goodbye to Thad and Thomas and Jeff, and crossed the mats, taking care to avoid getting clobbered by any stray weapons or people.

Once arrived, I sighed. "Hey, Derrik."

Derrik spun from a conversation with Kelechi and one other guy I didn't recognize, and looked at me. He flashed his teeth, grinning. "Hey there big fella. How's it hanging?"

"Chipper," I muttered. "I'm here to box. Can you teach me?" Straight to the point. I didn't like that I had to train with him, but I was just going to have to put that aside.

Derrik laughed. "Oh man, that's rich." He gave me an obvious once over, looking me up and down with an expression halfway between disbelief and laughter. "You sure you're up for it? You're looking a little beat-up already. You trip on your way here?" His eyes brimmed with a glittering malice.

"If you're referring to the dickhead you sent after me earlier today, then yeah, actually, I meant to thank you for that," I said.

Derrik's laugh stopped, but the amusement never left his eyes. "Me? Send someone after you? Now that-"

I didn't think he'd see the punch coming. I'd tried to align it, have all my force come from the ground, up into my body, and spiraling into my arm, and ideally into his jaw. Fast as I could.

Yeah, it was dumb. It made sense at the time. I blame that stupid look on his face. Or that time he threw me to the floor and kicked me in the ribs. Or that time he had Colin turn Jade into his own pet slave for a few days.

So maybe I had a teeny bit of a grudge against him.

He jerked away from the punch -- it was a fast punch, too, faster than I'd thought I was capable of -- his face angry, and I became quite aware of the mistake I'd made when I felt a sudden exertion of willpower from him, and his hands became encased in huge, metal gloves.

You could see the burnished rivets that fastened each of the clunky moving parts together. A few small, red rounded domes were scattered across the pair of gloves. A couple brass tubes -- probably functionless -- wrapped around the wrist. They were like something out of a steampunk novel. As he raised them up and all-too swiftly began to toss a punch of his own, I wondered idly if that was the kind of thing Derrik liked to read.

I'd probably never find out. I'd tossed too much into my own punch, and, off-balance, tried to right myself in anticipation for the blow. The mech-fist flew toward my face faster than I could properly register, a blur of chrome and black.

And I swear I was juuust starting to dodge when it connected with my oh-so-squishy face, which sent me staggering a few steps. Ow.

I recovered, turning in anticipation of the next hit.

Kelechi had barred Derrik's way with an arm. Derrik looked at him, rage evident in his eyes.

"The fuck do you think you're doing?" he demanded.

"He's new," said Kelechi calmly. "And he's trying to learn from you. Pretend he's got a ribbon. Don't forget how much of a dumbass he is."

Derrik looked like he might not care very much to listen to words at the moment, but after a beat, he seemed to cool down. He glanced over at me.

I massaged my jaw, eyeing his gloves. I got the impression he could break bones just by squeezing hard enough, and the gloves were plated at impact points near the knuckles. I heard a few valves somewhere on the gloves let out a hiss of air. I wondered if it was functional, or just a part of the aesthetic.

Yeah, Derrik had the moral fiber of a wet cumsock, but those gloves were cool.

And heavy. I saw how fast he'd thrown that punch. I knew my mass times acceleration formula, and so I knew the pain I should have been in. "Don't tell me you're throwing punches for little old me," I said.

He snorted. "Yeah right." He flexed his mechanical fingers. "That's just the room. You think they'd really let us kill each other in here? Look around, idiot."

I did. I saw Thad and Jeff, each with a pair of simple longswords, locked in a mutual flurry of blows. They fought beautifully. Gracefully. Reminiscent of Jet — almost. One would advance, the other retreat. Jeff cut sideways, Thad met the cut with one sword, directing it away, while bringing the other down in an overhead arc.

Jeff brought his other sword over to parry it away, and then spun abruptly -- too fast, really, even though I knew the Chi was helping -- and his sword was en route to Thad's unprotected side.

I winced in anticipation, feeling an echo of pain in my own, where I'd been scarred. But the sword didn't sever Thad, as it ought to have.

Instead, it struck him, bouncing off slightly, sending Thad stumbling as if he'd just been hit by a club.

Oh. "I think I get it," I said, watching Thad go back to the fight, swinging a sword and laughing. "The room dulls blades?"

Derrik rolled his eyes, waggling his fingers at me. "Do these look sharp to you?" he asked.

Now that he mentioned it, there was a thin, razor edge to one side of either glove. "Yes, actually," I said.

He grinned. "Well, it's not just edges. All impacts. Same sort of thing as the Course." It must be a field that Shae put on the room, I thought. That's why Thad hadn't been severed in half while Jade had been able to stab Derrik to the hilt of her blade.

Wait — if this was how the weapon impact worked, why had I been cut by Jet?

"So, what," said Derrik, "Are you going to just stand there and let me hit you, or are you going to show me your dagger?"