“Prepare to be disappointed,” Jer whispered in her ear, and Tif swatted at him without looking.
The Archon was a sight to behold. She was tall and, like Gul-Lan-Tho, her head was shaved completely bald. However, unlike the human division leader, her long ears on either side framed the absence of hair better and every inch of the Archon’s skin--from her skull, to cheeks, to lips, to the tips of her pointed ears down to the stretched lobes--was covered in Gold tattoos. Most people who possessed a sizeable amount of Gold avoided having any on their inner face, to better display the beauty the ris gave them, but Tif thought the Archon was all more gorgeous because of how thoroughly her exposed skin was draped in the shining geometries.
Similar to Sur-Rak, the Archon wore an opaque gown instead of sheer hiding everything but her head and hands. However, Tif knew that much more ris was there. It would trace every inch of her body just as richly as it did the parts she let them see because that is what it was to be the Archon--the only one in Lercel, and thus the world, allowed to be fully enveloped in Gold ris, granting her five seals.
Jer’s ma made up for the lack of golden flesh on display precisely as he had said she would: with pounds of gold jewelry. She wore thick, looping bracelets wrapped around her wrists and ankles, and a necklace with so many interconnected squares of gold it covered her chest down to her waist, contrasting beautifully with the deep purple, almost black, gown she wore. She looked like an Aspect Tif thought, but even more regal with her large violet eyes that stared actively out over the gathered candidates in place of an Aspect’s flat, golden gaze.
And then the Archon’s attention fell on her, so forceful that Tif stopped breathing. The inspection lingered only a moment, moving to something just beyond her, but Tif continued to go without air as her mind raced with questions. What had the Archon thought upon seeing her? Did she sense a kindred spirit? Someone who could follow in her footsteps?
The Archon sauntered to her chair, falling into it with fluid grace despite the heavy jewelry she wore. “Let us begin,” she said. Each syllable was perfection to hear, and Tif wished the Archon would keep talking--the words wouldn’t matter, just listening to that voice. It was like the air was honey, sweet in her ears, joined by a gentle vibration that made her body tingle. The crowd was similarly entranced, completely quiet, waiting to see if the leader of Lercel had more to say.
“Just because it sounds pretty, that doesn’t mean she has some great wisdom to impart,” Jer said.
Tif told him to be more respectful to his ma, or maybe she didn’t. It was hard to tell looking up at the very person she hoped to one day be.
“Our great Archon,” the administrator said, rising from his bow, “is kindly sitting in for our eastern wall division leader who cannot be with us today.”
If Tif’s attention hadn’t been fixed on the Archon, she would have shared an aha with Pep. That was why the administrator had jumped to the inner division when introducing the leaders. Tif hoped that Zos-Thi-Ilm was okay. He was a middle-aged keshe, said to have a brilliant mind, but the main reason Tif was partial to him was because he had been a das champion before becoming an arcknight. Perhaps he was in charge of the entire wall while the other division leaders were here.
“It has been more than two decades since an Archon has participated in recruitment and much longer still since one has stepped onto the field for a challenge.” The administrator paused, seemingly for effect. “We may be making history today.”
The crowds cheered at that, but Tif saw the Archon make no move to indicate that she would do as the administrator implied or cared for the watchers’ approval. Tif hoped that she could be so cool and collected when she held the post.
The administrator turned to face the candidates, staring down at them from his height.
“All of you now, if you wish to continue, pledge to the Aspect nearest you that if you are challenged and deemed to fail that you will relinquish every inch of your ris.”
An Aspect had entered the stage not long after the Archon and now stood behind her high-backed chair, which came up to its chest. Tif had her eyes on that one, but took a breath before starting the pledge, unlike Jer who was already halfway through. Tif didn’t know everything about Aspects, and the ris she had gotten from Torgath showed that there could be exceptions to even well established rules. Even so, Tif really didn’t think that a Gold Aspect would be able to take her Blood ris, which should make this the easiest pledge she ever made. She was feeling quite good about it until a few words in the Aspect turned to face her, staring her down until she finished.
Tif shook herself out when it was done and did look at Pep. “They’re just real attentive. That’s all, I’m sure.”
“Are you,” Jer said, “talking to your hand?”
Movement caught Tif’s attention, and she leaned around Jer from the front and then the back, watching the administrator swoop behind Vytel. The keshe put a hand above the Life Tribe girl’s head, a simple feat considering how he towered over her. Tif thought perhaps that meant things had finally begun in earnest but she wasn’t sure until she heard someone speak.
“I challenge her,” a happy, feminine voice said.
Tif turned to see Mek-Car-Rin rising from her chair. Below the young arcknight’s Gold covered eyes, her dimples poked into her cheeks.
Gul-Lan-Tho also stood from where he sat at the end of the line of chairs. “Mek-Car,” he said to the keshe. “I have first right.”
“I know,” the grinning arknight said, giving him an apologetic look, “but I couldn’t stop myself. Do you mind?”
And that’s when the Archon floated into the air.
“Mother…” Jer sighed beside her.
Tif knew she probably shouldn’t be as impressed by the sight as she absolutely was. The Archon was using her fifth seal to create the effect, the same one she used to control the gargant, which was at least fifty feet tall. Of course then her second shroud could extend far enough to lift her half a dozen feet above her chair. Still, to see her hovering there, as high up as the Aspect, her legs folded together, and her gown hanging about a foot beneath her--there was something so commanding about the position.
“A challenge has been made,” the Archon said from her new seat, not bothering to look at either arcknight. Like before, her words were rich and luscious, the way all things should sound but fell woefully short. “Let it commence.”
“As you say,” Gul-Lan-Tho said, though he didn’t look pleased in the slightest.
The first time Tif had heard the human division leader speak, she hadn’t though much of it, but this time…
“You’ve noticed something?” Jer asked her.
“That man,” Tif said, having trouble looking anywhere else now that she’d found him. “I think he’s the one I heard last night.”
Tif glanced at Jer long enough to see if her words had affected him. Jer tilted his head the division leader’s way, seeming to her more curious than concerned.
“Hmm. He and my mother have never been on particularly pleasant terms. Seems almost too obvious because of that. It also seems a bit strange for me to be saying this to a human, but are you sure you’re not biased against him because of his race?”
“People are people,” Tif said.
Jer looked ready to respond to that, but Mek-Car-Rin interrupted him.
“What to choose, what to choose?”
Tif turned to see that the keshe had descended the steps on the front of the division leader stage and was now pacing just a few feet away from Vytel. For her part, the human girl was standing stiffly, watching the arcknight so closely she wasn’t blinking. Tif didn’t blame her. The next words out of the division leader’s mouth would decide so much for Vytel.
“You’re sly when the need arises,” Mek-Car-Rin said as she walked, “but not a coward, fighting on even when you had lost your Life armor, we all saw that. Having you duel again would be no use, but--” She stopped abruptly, turning to look at Vytel with a mischievous gleam in her gold-shadowed eyes. “Discipline. Do you have it?”
“I...do,” Vytel said, speaking with uncharacteristic slowness, clearly unsure if she was supposed to respond.
“Wonderful!” Mek-Car-Rin stepped back and gestured at the newly created space between them. “I know some of your people’s training. Please complete the Life form The Unfolding Blossom.”
Tif watched relief wash over Vytel’s face, and the girl took a step forward.
“In less than a minute.”
Vytel froze.
“With your eyes closed.”
The human girl swallowed. Tif didn’t know any full forms, especially not for Life, but she certainly wouldn’t want to do one in front of the crowd, the division leaders, and the Archon without being able to see where she was going.
Vytel though steeled herself, taking another step forward and another to distance herself from the line of candidates. When she was far enough away, the human girl dropped into a low stance with her two hands up beside her head, holding the hilt of her invisible sword. Tif squinted and thought she saw a long shimmer in the air there--that or she was getting a headache.
“Begin,” Mek-Car-Rin said.
With a look of sudden fear, Vytel jammed her eyes shut before cutting her Life blade right then left in quick succession in a form that seemed designed for fighting against multiple opponents. Vytel’s next steps and slashes were equally fast, moving the human girl in a tight circle that gradually expanded, which Tif assumed was the “unfolding” part.
While each gesture and attack of the form that Vytel worked through had the look of something oft repeated to gain such fluid precision, particularly without sight, this make-believe fight seemed to Tif surprisingly easy, even with the time limit--at least compared to the stink that Sur-Rak and Jer had made about the third challenge.
And then a chunk of the ground by Vytel’s feet suddenly exploded.
Tif saw Vytel’s eyebrows fly up and then twist into a deep frown, as if she was trying to stop herself from opening her eyes. Tif turned to Mek-Car-Rin, sure the division leader would be in an attack stance, but the arcknight’s arms were crossed and her feet were flat on the packed earth of the field, so it couldn’t have been her, could it? Tif wasn’t sure, particularly when the keshe’s sharp-toothed smile seemed to say otherwise.
Tif heard another chunk of ground shatter, and some less restrained members of the crowd gasp. She turned, seeing that Vytel had nearly fallen but had managed to catch herself in a wider step her form was now using. Disconcerted that she hadn’t found the source of the attacks yet, Tif looked to the other division leaders, but none were gesturing toward the field either. It wasn’t until she glanced back at Mek-Car-Rin that Tif finally caught on to what the grinning keshe was doing.
“She creates the force of her shots by blinking?” Tif said in shock. She had heard that the young keshe had been a creative prodigy, thus leading to her appointment among the knights. But no one had ever mentioned that technique in her hearing.
“Leaving herself blind as she does,” Jer said, sounding none too impressed. “Not to mention the absurd amount of amplification required.”
More blasts came, hounding Vytel’s heels, which the human girl must have heard because she sped up, but then a hole suddenly appeared in front of her. Tif was close enough to hear Vytel hiss as her ankle was twisted, but the girl didn’t stop, yanking her foot free and circling ever wider with a slight limp as the blossom continued to expand.
Tif winced for the girl while continuing to be excited by the possibilities of the technique on display. “But look how quickly she can attack!”
Tif saw Jer shrug from the corner of her eye. “I don’t think the spend is worth the strike.”
Vytel leapt and landed on her good foot, slashing out one-handed with her arm fully extended now, which made Tif think it was the final rotation. Despite her injury, the girl avoided the small blasts that kept peppering the ground as if she had grown used to the timing of them. Two more twirls and then she finally stopped, both arms raised above her head and bad foot held lightly against the ground, the earth all around her was littered with divets and holes like someone had been digging for gold with a hand shovel.
Stolen novel; please report.
Tif noted that Mek-Car-Rin’s smile was gone as she approached Vytel--the girl breathing hard, eyes still closed though she surely wished to open them. Had she finished on time? Tif wasn’t sure. And even if she had, did getting injured during the form disqualify her?
Mek-Car-Rin stared at Vytel another tense moment and then the smile returned to the keshe’s lips.
“Welcome to the knights.”
The audience applauded, not overly boisterous, but a healthy amount. The division leader turned on her heel, heading back to the stand, while Vytel dropped to a crouch, hands over her face. Tad-Soo rushed to her side, crouching at first and then slowly helping her stand. When Vytel finally uncovered her eyes, Tif wasn’t surprised to see that they were red--she would be crying, too, if she was in the other girl’s shoes. What Tif didn’t expect was Vytel slapping Tad-Soo. The smack of skin on skin echoed across the field like a broken shroud, the sound all the louder because the crowds were suddenly silent, as if to a one they had all frozen mid-clap. The force of the blow had turned Tad-Soo’s head and when he looked back at Vytel, she pulled him in for a fierce kiss, which he returned without hesitation. This generated a smattering of renewed applause in both spectator stands and even among some of the division leaders.
For her part, Tif shouted her encouragement to the pair. She wasn’t exactly friendly with either, but seeing the passion they had for each other was infectious. Tif was also impressed that Tad-Soo could control his Gold shroud and Life armor enough to let Vytel hit him, and even more so that Vytel was officially a knight! If one human girl could do it, why not two?
When the couple had returned to the line, and everyone including Tif had quieted, the administrator held a hand over Tad-Soo’s head. Unlike with Vytel, Gul-Lan-Tho turned to the next leader in the line, Udaru. The aquaros looked right as well, to Mek-Car-Rin, who turned to the leader beside her, and so on, down the line, ending with inner division leader, Hur-Rek-Sar, looking up at where his sister floated. The Archon kept her gaze forward and did not speak. A peppered applause from the crowd followed, and the administrator stepped to the side while keeping his hand level, so that it was now above Sur-Rak. Again, the division leaders looked at each other, one after the next, none saying a word. A louder applause from the crowd this time, but still not as big as it had been for Vytel. Clearly, they preferred it when there was a show.
Over their claps, Tif heard Jer make a noise in his throat--half cough, half grunt.
“You expected Sur-Rak to be challenged?” she asked him.
“Expected? No. Hoped? Yes.”
“Your cousin just became a knight,” Tif said to him. “You should be happy for her.”
Jer looked at her like she had just recommended spiking his tea with goat urine, and Tif decided not to press him. He could be grateful once he was a knight, too.
The administrator moved to the keshe boy whose name Tif didn’t know. This time the turning heads of the leaders stopped with Sha-Ras-Tuu, Jer’s grandfather.
“I challenge,” the old keshe wheezed.
Tif perked up. He was one of the two who Jer had warned her about, and she wondered how he might go about things differently than Mek-Car-Rin had.
The elderly keshe stood without issue, but like before, he walked in a decidedly strange fashion: moving in jerks and starts, as if his body only worked every third second and was constantly trying to make up for the time lost during the other two. Perhaps even more disconcerting to Tif was the way he didn’t look in the direction he was going. Instead, he gazed up and to the side, like he was trying to remember something or couldn’t see.
“His technique for storing energy must be very useful for him to sacrifice his mobility like that,” Tif said, remembering what Jer had told her about the constant meditative state his grandfather used.
“It is,” Jer said, before adding, “and he doesn’t need to move around much on the wall.”
Tif believed Jer, but watching the strange old keshe struggle forward, it was hard to believe that Sha-Ras-Tuu had the power he was known for or would measure up to the last arcknight she had seen in action.
Unlike Mek-Car-Rin, Jer’s grandfather stopped at the bottom of the steps to the division leader’s stand, keeping a larger amount of space between himself and the candidate he had challenged. Still, his reedy voice carried.
“Using my technique, I see.” His choice of words struck Tif as odd considering that he was looking over all of their heads.
The younger keshe quickly bowed to his elder. “Yes, arcknight.”
“And who trained you in it?”
“Master Nee-Yin,” the candidate responded without hesitation. Tif liked his forthrightness. She hoped he made it, too.
“Is that so?” Jer’s grandfather said, his less than impressed tone very similar to the one Jer had used earlier. “I cast him out more than three decades ago because he couldn’t get his breathing right. Who knows though,” the old keshe wheezed again, “perhaps you’ll surprise me.”
“I hope to,” the boy said in answer, though he didn’t sound quite as sure as before.
“Begin by making a circuit, using your ris six times--full attacks, mind--after which I will strike you.”
Much like Vytel, the keshe boy stepped forward and then began walking in a circle. He did it just as he had done during the second challenge with almost ridiculous slowness, his feet hanging in the air an inordinate amount of time with each step; Tif supposed walking that way made it easy to avoid all the holes in the ground. As he gradually completed the circuit, he did alternating palm strikes to the sky, the only times he moved quickly. Due to his slow speed, it took him a few minutes to finish, but when he did, he stood tall, arms at his sides.
“Ready?” the old kehse asked, his focus still nowhere near the boy.
The candidate nodded. “Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, division leader.”
The gnarled keshe lifted his right foot perhaps two inches off of the ground and then brought it down like he was stomping on a bug. Instantly, the keshe boy was flattened to the ground, a crack echoing across the field from his shroud being broken, and Tif hoped that was all. There was a new indent in the earth, at least an inch deep and as big as a wagon bed, the poor candidate in the center of it with dust rising around him.
“Didn’t even realize he was being given help,” Tif heard Jer’s grandfather say. With his head still cocked oddly up, she saw him point arrow straight to the stands on her right. “Stop teaching a technique you don’t understand.”
Everyone, Tif included, turned to follow the arcknight’s outstretched digit, landing them upon a middle aged keshe sitting amongst them. The trainer shrank back from the attention, mouth flapping open and closed. It looked to Tif like he was apologizing, but she would have rather had an explanation. She knew of amplification, burning ris to make a strike more powerful, like Mek-Car-Rin was doing with her blinking. But the shallow crater around the fallen candidate was much larger than Jer’s grandfather’s foot, which meant he had found a technique to enlarge the attack. What’s more, every strike Tif had seen with Gold ris went in a straight line, from the attack to where it was pointed. If that was the case, the old keshe’s stomp should have gone into the ground, but it had been redirected somehow, similar to how Sur-Rak used her ris.
Wildly enough, those things weren’t even the most confusing part of the last few moments to Tif.
“What help?” she asked aloud.
“Tad,” Jer answered and kept going when she looked at him. “Just like Death can strip someone of their ris, Life can replenish. Tad was doing it to extend the amount of time that Sur had to focus on another attacker.” Jer turned to look at the limp keshe on the ground, yellow robed servants picking him up. “He really should have realized...”
“I’m not sure anyone could have been ready for your grandfather’s techniques,” Tif said with more than a little awe. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”
“True,” Jer admitted.
The boy was carried away, and there was no applauding from the crowds, just eerie silence. He obviously hadn’t passed the challenge, and Tif couldn’t help but wonder if they would take his tattoos from him while he was in such a state. She imagined waking suddenly to the wrenching pain of ris being removed, which gave her a shiver, and she vowed right then and there that if she did lose, she’d remain conscious the entire time.
The administrator moved to the sleepy keshe boy who had knocked Tif down in the second challenge and then oddly forfeited right after. Rof she thought his name was. Tif watched the first three division leaders pass, but then Ihl-Ves-Lee stared at Rof for a time while the onlookers grew even quieter than normal. Perhaps they knew, like Jer had said, that facing her would be incredibly intense, maybe because of her ‘exploding strike.’ Tif dared a peek at Rof by taking half a step forward, but he didn’t seem worried at all, just tired, like usual. Ihl-Ves-Lee finally turned her head, and the sense of held tension vanished from the crowd--though Tif thought they seemed more disappointed than relieved. After that, no other division leader paused, and Rof was in.
Tif felt her palms begin to itch. If they let Rof in, they’d certainly accept Opa--the one who had challenged Tif to a duel--and Jer as well considering both had won their second challenges. That meant Tif would be up in just a few short moments. Who would challenge her? And what would they have her do? She couldn’t wait to find out those answers. This was it, everything she had been working toward since buying her very first lotto ticket.
The administrator had barely moved his hand over tall Opa before the young keshe spoke.
“I challenge the southern patrol division leader to a close combat duel,” she said in a clear, high voice. “First shroud to break loses.”
“I accept,” the aquaros said, rising from its chair.
Tif stood in shock. A candidate had just challenged a division leader and they had agreed?
“Why didn’t you tell me you can do that?” she hissed to Jer.
“Because it’s an even worse idea than you being here,” he hissed back as Udaru neared.
Like when entering the stage, the reptilian creature walked on the talons of its feet, tail held out stiffly behind it. It wasn’t long before the aquaros stood just inside the indent Jer’s grandfather had made, the space between it and Opa scattered with some holes from the first challenge.
“Begin when ready.”
Closer now, Tif found the way the division leader spoke to be decidedly eerie. Its mouth was open slightly, revealing teeth just as sharp as a keshe’s and bigger, but its jaw didn’t move up and down. Instead, the words fell out fully formed, much like Tif had seen a parrot speak merely by opening its beak.
Opa burst out of the line like a shot of Gold ris. She led with a kick, making use of her long legs, the same as when she had fought Tif. The division leader didn’t bother moving, letting the side snap kick come within six inches of its shoulder before suddenly stopping. Tif thought she saw a slight ripple in the air where the kick had been rebuffed, which meant that despite all the blue Tears ris she could see on its scales, Udaru must have two seals worth of Gold under its feathered vest.
Opa continued to attack from up close with more kicks and then punches that hazed the air while the aquaros watched impassively with its slitted, reptilian eyes. From getting kicked by Opa, Tif knew firsthand that the tall keshe powered her strikes with Gold ris, but it was such a bizarre technique. The entire advantage of Gold ris was being able to attack from a distance, and Opa was throwing that opportunity away. Of course, Udaru was also throwing away the opportunity to fight back, making all of this very strange.
Tif nearly asked Jer why the division leader wasn’t counter attacking but stopped herself. She needed to start figuring out these situations on her own. After all, it’s not like she was going to be able to ask someone besides Pep their advice during her own challenge. The ris schools she eavesdropped on never talked about foreign types like Life or Tears, but it seemed to her like the aquaros blue tattoos were a touch brighter than before whatever that meant.
Perhaps ten seconds later, without warning, the division leader jabbed a clawed finger toward Opa, who was still hammering away at the shroud. Opa saw the attack--Tif supposed that’s what it was--and twisted to the side in a perfectly executed dodge, right into the point of the aquaros tail.
The tip of the tail didn’t touch Opa of course, just her shroud, but there must have been a great force behind it because Opa’s was blown sideways so fast Tif had to jerk her head to follow. Opa now lay at least fifteen feet from where she had stood only a moment before. The tall keshe apparently hadn’t been harmed much in the attack because she was quickly up and charging back at the division leader she faced.
“Your shroud is broken,” the aquaros said in that strange way it had, and Opa pulled up short, flushing in anger.
“No it’s--”
Udaru was suddenly gone, and Tif blinked, thinking the aquaros had somehow moved like Opa, but no, the division leader was nowhere to be seen. There was a gasp from the crowd, and Tif registered in disbelief that Udaru was now right beside Opa, the sharp claws of one hand held less than an inch from the tall keshe’s neck, much closer than it could get if Opa still had a shroud.
“What just…”
“Porting,” Jer said, sounding almost wistful. “I would have gotten two seals of Tears in my travels, but they won’t give any outsiders their ris. Such a shame.”
Tif’s attention hadn’t strayed from Udaru, so she got to see Opa’s perpetual look of fearsome confidence be replaced by one of utter disbelief as she stared down at the much shorter aquaros.
The division leader slid back, putting a more respectable distance between them.
“We’ll see you again next year,” Udaru said to Opa before heading back to the division leader stand.
“Next year?” Tif whispered, bemused.
“This is the third year Opa has challenged a division leader and lost,” Jer said.
“What? She buys back all her ris, every year?” Tif couldn’t even imagine that amount of money.
Jer shook his head. “She wins them back each time in the Lane, just like she did her first set, apparently. That’s why my uncle adopted her.” Jer nodded to the inner division leader with his metal wrapped legs. The arcknight didn’t look pleased by the loss.
Tif could relate. To see someone as skilled as Opa brought down, and with seemingly such little effort, was not encouraging. She had lasted longer than the boy before her, true, but not by much.
Again, there was no applause from the crowd, and Opa was led away by a servant, the young keshe glaring around as tears ran down her face.
Up until this moment, Tif had hoped for some sort of duel against a division leader, thinking the resilience of her healing Blood ris, her newly discovered sticking ability, and her desire to be a knight would see her through, but after watching these last two matches? The only one of the three who had succeeded in a challenge had done a form, and Tif didn’t know any of those for Blood.
The administrator moved to Jer, and as Tif knew they would, no division leader challenged, turning their heads just as quickly as they had for Sur-Rak with an equal amount of applause from the crowd.
Tif heard the administrator step behind her, and though his fingers didn’t touch her hair, she swore that she could feel the weight of his hand over her head. Pressed down upon, Tif watched the first division leader look at her, not to the side, and before he could speak she shouted.
“I challenge the Archon!”
Silence blanketed the field, from all three stands to the other candidates beside her--quieter even than after Vytel’s slap. In the shocked silence, Tif heard Jer begin to sputter next to her, but she ignored him. If she didn’t focus, who knew what might come out of her mouth. She only had eyes for the Archon, still hovering in the air above all the rest.
“To a game of das.”
Tif had no idea if she could pick the activity when challenging like the division leaders could. Tif also didn’t know what would happen if the Archon refused. Would she automatically fail?
Jer’s ma looked at her, face utterly impassive, as if it was just the two of them having this conversation. When she finally spoke, the words were the most beautiful Tif had ever heard and not because of the Archon’s flawless voice.
“I accept.”