Chapter 7 Part 3: Combat

Among the group Mei and Jun found themselves in, some looked burly, others sleek and trim. All looked experienced in combat.

They were asked their names and then brought to an arena. Once inside, they were first asked to show their skills against a dummy. They weeded out a few people who had lied about their skill in combat and then the remainder were split into teams of two. Jun and Mei were separated.

He watched her go before greeting his opponent.

The man before him was older, stronger. His white uniform held red threads. Jun’s own had dyed blue during the ceremony and the man’s face contorted.

“I have to fight a blue? Just my luck.” His sigh was more weary than upset. “Whatever, let’s get this over.”

“The two opponents will assume their fighting stances.” A proctor announced.

Jun drew his sword, stance strong and ready. The man’s eyes glowered.

“Hey, we aren’t here to kill one another.”

Jun groaned. He had expected some reaction. After all, his master had warned him what holding a sword in the left meant—execution. Instead of answering, he flipped the sword around, allowing him to safely push back his shoulder cloak, revealing his burned arm. The man’s eyes narrowed.

“Will that suffice?” Jun asked the proctor, who nodded. The man grumbled before retrieving a spear.

“Your weapons will be enchanted so they won’t have a cutting edge.

Also, you are to avoid blows that would kill or maim your opponent. The objective is to show your reflexes and abilities against unknown foes.”

The rules were established. A strike to a limb would mean it had been taken out. You could still fight, but if two limbs were struck, then it would count as a death. Conversely, if your torso was hit, that would count as a death. They would have ten rounds and would be judged on performance and tactic from that. The proctor’s hand dropped, signaling the start of the first round.

Jun struck first, getting within the attack range of the spear before his opponent could react. The problem of attacking a spear, was the difference in length. A spear wielder had more advantages, but he could maneuver himself so that advantage was removed. The man hadn’t anticipated his quick attack— and fumbled as he tried to avoid, bringing the shaft around to block. Jun feinted to the right and then leapt to the left, out maneuvering his opponent and smacking the flat of his blade against his back. The man growled in frustration.

The next round, he was ready, but instead of coming into the attack range, Jun stayed back, confusing him and forcing him to come. As he charged, Jun shifted his right foot, feigning a leap, then ducked. The man quickly pivoted, his foot stopping him in place. He brought the spear down and Jun tumbled to the ground, rolling away. He used the momentum to dig with his sword into the ground, spraying it at his opponent who retreated quickly. Now wary, his opponent didn’t know what to expect, and kept his distance. Jun used the moment to calm down and smirked.

“Can’t get close?” His taunt had the proper effect.

“You play dirty!”

“What. Did you think this is some noble chivalrous fight?”

The man looked at him in disbelief—eyes flicking to the proctor who smiled behind the mask he wore.

“Every thing has been within the rules and bounds we set. Continue.”

Jun toyed with the man as he gaged his experience. He hadn’t killed, hadn’t fought for his life. While Jun’ first kill had been on route, he was used to assassins coming after him, and fighting dirty to survive under the Matriarch. In reality, the man before him reminded him of the assassins without the cold light or ruthlessness. In other words, practically a child.

The ten rounds ended with Jun loosing once, and the man loosing nine times. Out of those nine times, Jun had lost a limb twice.

He was paired with another opponent, one who could challenge him, and his opponent was sent to a weaker, more matched, foe. Overwhelming victories meant that the proctors and teachers couldn’t see skills or potential.

In the coming rounds, Jun won fairly well, and attributed it to his Master who had been skilled with most types of weapons, giving him a lot of experience over the last eight years.

However, his last opponent left him with quite a few bruises. While he circulated the prayer to recover, he felt pointed glares.

Mei scampered over and grabbed his hand.

“Hey, Amalie wants to see us, old man.”

Jun flinched at her tugging, following along.

“You did well. Both of you.” Amalie’s eyes scoured the others, noting their varying stares. “Take these,” she said, holding out her hand. In the palm were two small pins in the shape of a whip and white flames.

The older students gaped, some protesting. Amalie glared at them.

“Who said I had a rule like that?” She growled. “Well? If you take these, I will personally mentor you for the next six years so long as you wish to study with me.” Jun’s brows raised. Judging from the words he could barely make out, he could understand this was a big deal. Something about Amalie never teaching first years, and rarely assisting second years. However, Jun wondered if this was her way of keeping them nearby. She still had her promise to uphold. He reached out and took the pins, handing one to Mei.

“Thank you,” Jun bowed his head. Amalie huffed and took the pin from him, opening it and putting it on his collar.

“Kind of hard when you’re one handed,” she chuckled. Jun kept still, not wanting to be poked.

“Mei could have—”

“Nope. I want to.” Amalie insisted. When it was securely in place, Amalie indicated for them to follow.

“You still need to complete the tests, but it’s going to be a bit different.” Her words held amusement as she led them away.

On the far side of the forest, past the fields where the tests were going on, Jun and Mei found a group of teachers watching and reading. A few of the White Flames from before had apparitions floating around them, and from their weapons, a trail connected to floating panels that showed the students as they tested. A few greeted Amalie in surprise.

“You really were serious. It’s not like you to break one of your oaths.”

“It never was an oath, more just a matter of principle,” She answered, encouraging Jun and Mei to stay close.

They finally reached a group of students who also wore the pins.

“So you’re the ones who caught The White Flame’s attention!” A girl greeted kindly. Her eyes burned bright with enthusiasm. “Do you want me to begin their tests now?”

“That can wait till after the greetings,” Amalie answered. “Jun, Mei, these are the other students that I personally teach. Don’t let their appearances fool you, they could trounce you in combat.”

“The White Flame mainly teaches us combat. That way we can still choose other teachers and subjects that we enjoy.” The girl continued. “Ah, but I should introduce myself. I am Anise Alestandre, one of the Princesses of Bakabeli. And this is my knight, Carl Leandre.”

“A pleasure.” The man Anise introduced was tall, and without a hint of a whisker. Jun wondered what his age was.

The others began to introduce themselves.

“Who taught you how to handle all those opponents?” A middle sized man asked? Jun tried to remember his name. Justice?

“My master taught me,” he answered. Amalie’s brows shot up briefly before she lowered them with a smile.

“And just who is your Master?”

“Bernard.” Mei said softly. Jun watched as each of the members of the group looked at them with crooked brows and gaping jaws.

“He’s still— Wait. What was his favored weapon?” Amalie’s hands descended on him firmly.

“He said he didn’t have one. Although… if he had to choose, it would be a sword.”

Amalie’s jaw dropped and then her head dipped. Jun worried about her. However, her eyes turned up and she grinned.

“Well, I wish my Old Man had mentioned that was where he headed. At least he could have greeted me when I pulled you out.” Her hands left while her lips pursed as she folded her arms.

“Your old man?” Mei asked.

“Oh, not my father, though honestly he was like one to me. Bernard was a teacher here back when I first started learning, and like you guys, I was his first student of the first year. Or rather, he was the one who told me it was better to teach older kids if I ever stuck around. I don’t know why… well, that story is for another time. It really is a small world though. Guess I’ll have to finish where he left off.”