Why Brave the Perils

“Okay, Chestin, talk to me,” Trick said, approaching the other man in the lensman’s drilling grounds. Chestin was in the process of stretching out his legs against the wall of the town’s armory. He spared Trick a glance then went back to what he was doing. Trick hefted the practice stick he’d gotten at the festival the other day and waved it back and forth. “Seriously, man. What am I supposed to do with this thing?”

Chestin finished his stretching and scooped up a practice stick of his own, hefting it one handed with his other side forward, arm folded over his chest and his weapon held parallel to his body. Trick stared at him. “Seriously. We’re just starting with a bludgeoning? Can you even talk?”

“Yes.”

If Trick had expected the first words he heard from the man to be special somehow he was disappointed. Chestin had a fairly normal voice, if a bit rough from disuse. He also didn’t have anything else to say. He just motioned with his free hand for Trick to come at him.

What followed was the most grueling few hours Trick had endured since coming to the seventh sphere. Chestin worked him over like he was tenderizing a side of meat. It was a totally different experience from the one he’d gotten on the sparring field the day before. Then Chestin had obviously been working to win each match as fast as possible. A pretty understandable approach, given the fact that it was obviously a part of the festival and the goal was to entertain as many people as possible.

Now he was doing something very different. With each pass he was positioning himself and his strikes to guide Trick towards the obvious counter moves. He moved much slower. When Trick let him get too close Chestin would prod a leg or a shoulder so that Trick adjusted the distance and when Trick drifted too far away Chestin would point to the correct place to stand with his practice stick. Whenever he made the wrong move Trick got whacked. It was a lengthy, hands on, practical way to learn to fight.

Throughout most of it Chestin said nothing. Towards the end he would pause every ten minutes and ask, “Are you tired?”

Three times Trick said, “No.”

The third time was out of sheer stubbornness because by that point he was actually exhausted. But he was looking for some crack in the all encompassing, ironclad defense Chestin showed whenever Trick tried to launch an attack. Finally he thought he had it. He managed to circle half a step towards Chestin’s back and launched a furious strike, aiming to knock the other man’s weapon aside and land a blow on his torso.

Instead, Chestin’s practice stick vanished, looping around outside Trick’s weapon. As Trick staggered forward Chestin grabbed his arm with his own free hand, dragging Trick forward and depositing him face first on the ground. Chestin’s practice stick poked him gently between the shoulder blades. “Not bad,” he said. “We’ll look at grappling techniques more tomorrow.”

Trick groaned. “Do we have to?”

“No.” Chestin grabbed him by one shoulder, flipped him on his back and dragged him to his feet. “But you will. You want to know this. I can tell.”

In response Trick limped over to the armory wall, put his back against the leafy vines covering it and slid to the ground. “I want it, sure. What’s your angle?”

Chestin picked up a jug of water from the ground nearby, filled a cup from it and handed it to Trick. “I want to brave the Steel again.”

“I don’t follow.”

“The warden told us some of your story when we agreed to go on the last expedition,” Chestin explained, pouring himself a cup of water. “It was a strange story. I didn’t understand most of it but I did realize one thing. Stan is your brother. He’s lost and to find him you must brave the Steel. I would do the same if Norin was lost.”

Trick frowned and studied Chestin. He was clean shaven where Norin had a short beard and that made the resemblance harder to spot but now that he was looking for it they did appear to be related. “So you want to brave the Steel again and you think I’m the one most likely to go with you?”

The other man nodded, sipping his water.

“Why did Vara and Norin stop going with you?”

“Marriage.”

“To each other?”

“No. But it still changes things.”

“I suppose it does,” Trick said, “though I’ve not experienced it myself. Since you apparently know why I want to brave the steel again, can I know why you want to go there?”

For a bit Chestin just sat there, turning his cup in his hands and staring at the liquid within. “A long time ago, I heard the Child there.”

The reference took Trick by surprise and he had to spend a second searching his memories before he got the answer. “The Child Eternal? You’ve heard the Child Eternal?”

“Once. It sounded… lost.” Whatever memory Chestin was reliving it clearly haunted him. The man didn’t say much but his eyes twitched back and forth, as if seeing a scene only visible to him. His next words came out in an almost halting fashion. “I felt like I should do something but we couldn’t understand its words. Couldn’t ask it where it was, much less what it wanted.”

Then Chestin returned to the moment and he lifted his gaze to meet Trick’s. “I think you can.”

Trick rubbed the fabric of his poncho between his fingers, once again wondering how it worked. “I’m not sure about that, Chestin. I don’t even know if this thing lets me understand anything other than Casparian.”

“It does.” Chestin finished his water in a single gulp. “I just spoke to you in a mix of Casparian and Enochian. Could you tell the difference? I am speaking in Zari as I ask you.”

Trick jerked back in shock. “What?”

“Sari already did this test, actually. She told the elders you spoke both Casparian and Enochian fluently when she met you. At the time she didn’t know your lumicraft cloth could translate.” Chestin got to his feet. “I have never had a better chance to know what the Child was saying. I must know. You must know how to survive a fight. So come back tomorrow. Keep coming until you are ready. Then we will brave the Steel Perilous together. Fair?”

Trick mulled it over, staring into his own cup. Then he, too, finished it in one go and got to his feet, though it cost him a lot more effort than it had the Chestin. “Fair enough. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He started to limp off the training grounds when he realized there was one more thing he had to find out. So he turned around, limped back to Chestin and asked, “How do I get to the hall of records from here?”