XII: A Royal Pain (Part 2)

I followed the trail of Cynthia’s golden hair to an area beside the park’s fountain. She had motioned for me to sit at a table across from her. I did as I was silently asked and noticed that the aforementioned table between us was actually a Rush table.

“Hey, look,” she said, observing the surface of the board. Pieces stood in carefully arranged formation. “Someone didn’t finish their game. That’s a shame.”

“Hm.”

“I absolutely adore this game. I bet you don’t even know what it is…”

“Rush, a game created by the great Dr. Simon Hitchcock after his participation in The Great War,” I started. “He based it on the most crucial battle between the Kingdom of Steylia and the Ashar Empire. Strategy was the deciding factor in a fight that was fought to nearly the last soldier. Time was of the essence and Steylian victory prevented detonation of a third Helix Bomb, which was instrumental in bringing an end to the war.”

“Wow. Once again, you know your stuff. But I don’t suppose you’ve actually played it.”

“You know what they say about assuming. I was hoping you’d have learned that lesson considering I proved you wrong mere seconds ago, but here we are. Anyway, yes, I’ve played the game.”

An arrogant half-smile spread across her lips. “Think you can talk and play at the same time?”

“Yeah?”

“Then I challenge you to a game of Rush.”

“All right, you’re on.”

The two of us divvied up the pieces, wiping away the leftovers of the previous game. Of course, Cynthia took the role of Steylia and left me to play the part of the Ashar Empire. We arranged our pieces in default formation and reset the timer. Just like the real life battle it’s based on, all games of Rush are ten minutes in length. Quick thinking is key. Remaining calm under pressure and allowing logic to flourish over panic is the way to win.

“Ready?” she asked, hovering her hand over the start button on the timer. I nodded, and she began the game.

Instantly, I could tell she was skilled by the very first move she made. It wasn’t just the move itself, but the complete lack of hesitation on her part while making it. I knew she mentioned adoring Rush, but I thought there was a chance her skill wouldn’t quite match her love for the game. But from her opening move alone I could tell there wasn’t a beginner’s bone in her body.

“When did we decide you would go first?” I asked.

“I’m the princess, I always go first. Make your move.”

“Touché,” I replied, moving my piece.

As the game continued, she spoke. “Okay, let’s get to why I asked you here. No more stupid jokes, do you have a training plan for the gauntlet or not?”

“I’ve got it under control, so quit worrying already.”

Saying that I had the situation under control was being charitable, to put it mildly. But in all honesty, was there really going to be a better teacher for me than the prodigy herself, Evangeline Dioli? During lunch, I had searched her name again, and, sure enough, she was the real deal. A truly gifted combat and magical specialist the likes of which the world had never seen before. If even Eva couldn’t prepare me for the gauntlet, there was no one who could. Therefore, I did technically have things under control.

“I will worry, everything is at stake here, you moron,” she said, taking one of my pieces out. “I’m not asking for the sake of asking, father has already reached an agreement on who your first opponent will be.”

“What?!” I cried, taking a piece from her. It was a trap, however, and I found myself losing two more of mine to her.

“’What?!’” she fired back, mocking me with a stupid voice. “I have better things to do with my time than to pointlessly pester you. If I’m demanding your time, it’s for a good reason.”

“Whatever. Well, don’t leave me in suspense. Who is the opponent?”

She positioned a piece to trap me in an unfavorable position and said, “I don’t know. I wasn’t told, but that’s no surprise. Father and mother are against us in this whole thing, after all.”

“What a load of good that does us.”

I found myself taking too long to respond to her move. Scanning the board quickly, I moved one of my pieces to a defensive position that seemed to take her off guard.

“Good move,” she said. “Regardless, forget the complaining right now. If your opponent has been selected, it won’t be much longer before the announcement. Needless to say, the fight won’t be too long after that either.”

I set my internal panic aside for a moment to react to the odd move she had made in response to my defense. I pondered why she had shifted her piece in a way that would allow mine to freely take three of her own, but with the clock winding down, I stole her three vulnerable soldiers. In the blink of an eye, however, she had swept straight to my general and snatched it. With that, the bomb was disarmed and the game was over.
“Crap,” I said, replaying the sequence over in my head.

“I win,” she declared. “But hey, you’re actually pretty good. I got a little hasty there at the end, but so did you, and that was your downfall.”

“Clearly.”

“You did a lot better than I thought you would. You took out a lot more pieces than anyone ever does when I play them."

I flicked over one of my few upright pieces and said, “so, what, you’ve never lost at this game?”

“I have, multiple times. Only to one opponent though. So, all things considered, you did unexpectedly well.”

"Don’t sound so impressed. Maybe you should stop underestimating everyone else and assuming you’re better than them.”

“I never said I was impressed. Maybe I’ll be impressed if you manage to win the gauntlet.” She crossed her arms to emphasize her condescension.

“If I beat every one of those clowns, you better be impressed.”

Suddenly, Cynthia’s mouth fell open slightly and her eyes locked on to nothing in particular. I traced her line of sight with my own gaze and found it connected with a tree. A noticeable flush colored her cheeks and her hands grasped her arms tighter.

“Are you okay?” I asked, trying and failing to understand what triggered the strange shift in her demeanor.

“I’m fine,” she replied, firmly. “Anyway, now you know the current situation. So, again I will ask you, what is your training plan? If you have nothing, tell me so I can find someone to train you. We don’t have time to waste.”

“I already told you I have the situation under control. Leave me alone so I can focus on what I need to do if you really want to help me.”

“You know what?” she hissed, rising to her feet. “I don’t have time for your cryptic nonsense! I will find out what is going on with you. Mark my words.”

She stormed away with her entourage of men and women in black before I could even think about responding. Rather than caring, I slumped back in the chair and reexamined the sky that had now looked much more aubergine than tangerine.

It felt like the walls were closing in. The whole situation was bad enough as it was on its own, but it seemed that space in my brain was at a premium between the mystery of Mizuki’s strange behavior, the incoming opponent announcement and subsequent fight, and my inability to cast magic at the level of a first grader. I hoped my head would explode and put me out of my misery right then and there, but my phone buzzed in my pocket, letting all the air out of my head before it could rupture.

The message on the screen was from none other than “Sensei Dioli”. It was a goofy selfie depicting the pink haired girl winking at the camera and flexing her bicep confidently. Beneath the picture was a text.

Don’t forget that training resumes tomorrow! I had some time to think about things, and I guarantee this time you’re going to make progress!