The rest of the day was spent alternating between training and learning about their opponent’s trios. The biggest mystery was the sorcerers’ teams since no one had seen them before, and thus the instructors had no idea who they would face. It could range from the weakest sorcerer of a remote adventurer guild to the strong duo of the Pack of the Hawks.
In the former, the best trio of seven-stars from the Protectors Circle had a chance. Against the latter, it was best to forfeit.
The day ended at a large table inside the Protectors Circle’s dining hall around a warm meal. The trios selected for the second round as well as the other Protectors were all mixed together, chatting happily and encouraging each other for their next fight.
“After all, we only have to win six times in a row.” Myrthil announced with a smiling face.
A nearby Protector chuckled. “Easier said than done! You may not be in the death group, but yours is the hardest of all the others!”
Along the day, the Protectors stuck to Ailluin’s split of four groups of sixteen trios each. Tomorrow, they would have to fight and win four times in a row to emerge victorious among their group of sixteen. The semi-finals and final would then be held two days after.
Each group of sixteen had been given a nickname depending on its composition. The third group was named the death group since there were seven sorcerers’ teams within. Fortunately, none of the Protectors’ trios had been allocated there. The fourth group was the easiest one for the Protectors, since most of them were there and they simply called it the Protector’s group.
The trio of sorcerers from the Protectors Circle was the only sorcerer team in that group, and they would have an easy time reaching the third day of the tournament. After that, however, they would have to fight the winner of the third group and that would probably be their hardest fight. Their strategy was to go slow tomorrow to save their energy for that battle.
As for the other two groups, the second was deemed the easiest since they had no renowned fighters nor sorcerer trios. It was almost written that the last battle of this group would be between the two Protectors trios within, Hortik’s trio and Ylindar’s trio. It was two of the best seven-stars trios, and they trained together all day. From most of the Protectors, which of the two trios would emerge victorious from the second group was the only unknown of this group.
And finally, the first group had four strong contestants. Mahon’s team, two sorcerer trios, and Luvon, the eight-star warrior, and his two apprentices. From the Protectors, there was only Mahon’s team and if not for him most of the Protectors would have considered this group to be a death one too.
“Bah,” Myrthil waved off the man’s argument with a nonchalant gesture. “Best-case scenario, Luvon and the two sorcerer teams eliminate each other, and we only had to deal with one of them afterwards.” She grabbed Jorik’s arm and, pulling him to her, she moved her head right next to his, cheek against cheek, and smiled widely. “With Mahon and Jorik, there shouldn't be any problem!”
Keeping her head in this position, she continued her explanation. “Then we fight against either Hortik or Ylindar’s teams. Easy peasy, and straight to the final! With a bit of luck, Rania’s trio will be exhausted from their previous fight against the best sorcerer team of the death group. Mahon does Mahon’s stuff and surprises them, and boom! We win the tournament!”
“Win the tournament?!” The Protector sitting in front of her laughed loudly. “Wow, Myrthil, I didn’t think you were already dreaming awake! You should stop drinking.”
“Hey!” Myrthil let go of Jorik to throw her spoon at the man’s face.
There weren't any ill intentions in her throw, and the Protector avoided the spoon with ease. The spoon continued forward and hit the back of Ailluin’s head who was sitting on the table behind them. The instructor scratched his head while turning back with a surprised look.
He saw the spoon fall on the floor and raised his head to look around, in search of an explanation. The look of shock in Myrthil’s eyes betrayed her, and seeing the others trying to hold back their laughter around her, Ailluin quickly understood the situation.
He slowly picked up the spoon and threatened her with a false angry look.
“Protector, I’m very disappointed with your skill. The throw was weak, lacked focus, and let’s not talk about your accuracy. Is that all you learnt?”
“Head instructor.” Myrthil bowed in false shame before raising her head with a knowing smile. “How can it be my fault, however? I keep pestering Instructor Mahon to teach me, but he persists in using the sword… You need to have him teach us the spoon!”
At the mention of his name, the latter raised his head to see half the table looking at him with predatory smiles, while Ailluin, at the nearby table, held a spoon in his hand as if he wanted to challenge him in a duel.
“What?” He asked with a puzzled expression while the rest of the Protectors’ smiles grew larger, but they stayed silent.
“They said your talent with the sword is inversely proportional to your table manners, and that you need to be taught how to use a spoon properly.” Jorik said with a taunting tone.
Mahon needed a full second before he understood what was going on. His puzzled expression turned into a wide grin that made the others shiver in fear.
“Hey!” Myrthil elbowed Jorik in the ribs. “I didn’t say that! Mahon, don’t listen to him, we only…”
“Who asked for a lesson about spoons?” Mahon interrupted her while looking at Jorik.
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Jorik’s grin became as wide as Mahon’s one. He grabbed a spoon and threw it to Mahon while pointing to the whole table. “All of them.”
Mahon caught the spoon in a swift gesture and immediately started spinning it expertly between his fingers. The moves were so fast that the spoon turned almost invisible while the Protectors watched him with a mix of admiration and fear. To the side, Ailluin turned back to his table with the most innocent face he could muster.
“You know,” Mahon started while performing a wide range of motion with his spoon, “where I come from, you don’t start by learning how to fight with a sword. Instead, you start with the smallest object you can imagine before slowly climbing your way up to normal things like daggers and swords. I can still remember today the marvelous feelings I had when, after months of hard work, I finally got a spoon. After training with weapons the sizes of toothpicks, dice, thimbles or playing cards, you have no idea how it feels to have something as big as a spoon in your hands... But, hey, lucky you! I’m here now, and you asked for a lesson!”
The toothy grin that concluded his little speech sent another round of shivers in the back of the Protectors that were sitting around Myrthil.
“You’re bluffing aren’t you? Jorik! He is bluffing, right?!” Myrthil asked with a slightly panicked voice.
The noble slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid bluffing isn’t part of his repertoire...”
The lesson that ensued was recorded in the annals of the history of the Protectors Circle.
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“You should have gone easy on them. They still have to fight tomorrow.”
“But I went easy on them.” Mahon flashed a smile at Jorik as the two men were walking back to Siraye’s place. “And weren’t you the one who asked for it?”
Jorik chuckled. “Well, we needed some show to lighten up the night!”
The noble stayed silent for a few more seconds before he added. “But tell me, did you really train with toothpicks and dice?”
Mahon shrugged. “Yeah. Kind of. In Nightmare, it takes time to be able to invoke a weapon of a reasonable size. Of course I didn’t fight with a die, but the first weapons I invoked were the size of it, so I had to learn how to deal with it... It’s the same for everyone. And then, the more accustomed to Nightmare and your weapon you are, the larger it becomes. But, yeah, it took me months to grow something the size of a spoon. And I was among the faster ones.”
“Can you even fight with that?” Jorik asked.
“Not really.” Mahon shook his head. “But it was Nightmare, so… It was either that or giving up.”
“I see…” Jorik’s voice died in the quiet night, and the two men walked in silence for a bit.
“I’ve never been in Nightmare myself.” Jorik spoke again a minute later. “I mean, with Amentiae inside, because now…” The noble stopped for a few seconds before he took a deep inspiration and continued. “I admit I fell for the noble’s discrimination against Nightmare soldiers, but the more I learn about them, the more I realize they were instead the bravest of Ratho.”
Jorik’s sudden repentance took Mahon by surprise. The noble had changed a lot since their first meeting back in the Pine Hill Officer Institute. Even considering the way he was just after escaping from the Amentiae and discovering Finem, he had grown much.
Mahon, on the other hand, hadn’t changed at all. Instead of opening to others, like Jorik did, he had kept a barrier between him and the rest of the world. The scars from both Margot and Zac’s losses were still too deeply imprinted on his mind to reiterate the experience.
Every time a topic went a bit too close to his personal life, he locked himself in with no way for anyone to reach him. Jorik wouldn’t have survived that long in the noble court if he wasn’t able to pick up such clues, and at first he didn’t push their friendship further.
In fact, he understood Mahon’s posture very well. Jorik had never been a social person either. But times had changed.
There was no guarantee they wouldn’t be stuck for years in this world on their own. They couldn’t afford not to trust each other or risk becoming mad from how big their secret was. They were following the trail of a mystery that made an entire civilization disappear. They were fighting against a magic they knew nothing about. If they weren’t united, they wouldn’t make it to the other side.
Jorik hadn’t been a sociable person back in Ratho, but he was also a man capable of adapting to any situation, and right now, he knew deep inside him that they couldn’t afford to stay distant. If they couldn’t trust each other with their lives and deepest thoughts, they had almost no chance of surviving through this. It was too big, and they were only two.
Sure, their relationship had grown since they arrived in Finem, but not fast enough. They couldn’t be satisfied with thinking along the same lines anymore. Not knowing they could spend years on this trail, with only the two of them. Now, they had to share the same mind. Their long-term survival depended on it. For their own sanity, Jorik had to find a way for Mahon to open to him.
At first, he thought Mahon only needed time. But as time passed, and the two men survived near-death experiences one after another, Mahon didn’t open himself further. They had trained together until exhaustion, and shared many secrets only they knew in the whole world, but it hadn’t changed. There were still some boundaries Mahon refused to cross.
Jorik could see how it ate at him when Mahon was lost in his own thoughts, or in Nightmare when he meditated. How many times had he surprised Mahon with a pained expression when they were enjoying their time with the Protectors? He knew something was broken inside Mahon. Alas, despite Jorik’s discrete attempts, Mahon had always refused to talk about it on his own.
The noble threw a look at Mahon, and he knew it was another failure. At the simple mention of Nightmare, Mahon had shrunk on himself, lost in thoughts. With a sigh, Jorik pulled back the conversation to other topics. They were on the eve of important fights to progress in their quest of truth. He couldn’t allow Mahon to be elsewhere and unfocused. He would have to wait for another day to confront him.
“How do you think we’ll fare tomorrow?” He asked instead.
“It will not be a stroll in the park, but I think we’ll manage.” Mahon was pulled back from his reverie. “I’m not afraid of the sorcerers. That eighth-star, however, might prove to be more challenging. The unknown is always the hardest to deal with.”
“Hmm.” Jorik nodded. “And after that we will need to find a way to deal with our own trio of sorcerers. That will not be an easy feat either.”
“Well, they know some of our tricks but so do we. We trained enough with Rania to know her weaknesses. It’ll not be an easy fight, that’s for sure, but at least we can prepare and plan for it.” Mahon paused for a bit before continuing. “I’m actually more afraid of Myrthil than them.”
“Myrthil? Why?” Jorik asked with a puzzled look.
“Don’t play innocent. You clearly know how she feels about you. Her feelings for you makes her unpredictable. I’m afraid of how she will react if a fight turns sour.”
“You shouldn’t worry about her.” Jorik waved him off. “She trusts me blindly.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of…” Mahon whispered with a sad smile.