Don’t Plan, No Plans

“Why are we sparring?”

Frein had the mind to pay Xiv’s complaint a little attention. He was currently more preoccupied by the enormous military training facility before them. Admiral Garm had been more than happy to allow them clearance to enter the establishment. And rather than spend time grueling over an awkward date plan that he was sure would fail, he thought it would be better to help the Vyndivalian handle his worries first.

He had to come up with a good reason though.

Frein churned on an excuse while he admired the training facility. He could not help but compare it to a school. Similar to a university but even more vast. He had been in one, but dropped out pretty early on. Sitting in class to listen and slogging through boring subjects wasn’t really something he preferred at that time. But could things be different now?

No. He didn’t really have any time for that now. Not at all.

People of all varieties, wearing fine clothes, or uniforms, or training wear, walked in and out of the campus. All of them ignored the two, treating them like any other student, trainee, hopeful, or whatever else they called those wishing to become Iristan knights.

Frein questioned the lax security but quickly remembered that everyone aboard the Atlas Sid would’ve gotten some sort of clearance first. Anybody skilled enough to trespass from there wouldn’t have any problems here. That, or he just wasn’t aware of any other security implements that could’ve been monitoring them for all he knew.

The campus, as now Frein assumed, encompassed three main buildings surrounded by smaller facilities littered around various paths. Stone walkways were tidily kept and short grass and trees provided comfort for people who wanted a break but were too lazy to take a few more steps to get to the benches.

Through his M.O.B.I.L.E., he looked at a map provided by the Admiral and followed the instructed path. They were headed for one of the smaller facilities near the middle main building.

“Hmm…” Frein mused, still coming up with a good reason. Xiv, surprisingly, was patient enough to follow him. “By the way, before I answer that, did Frill allow you outside of the navigation tower? Aren’t you still technically a captive?”

“Admiral Garm, Princess Kristel, and Frill all agreed that I’m cooperative enough to be given some freedom. Besides, Lady Katherine vouched for me and they all know I’m with you right now.”

Frein nodded, feigning ignorance. He’d known all about this beforehand, but he needed to buy time.

Three young ladies walked past them. Two felintines and an elf, all wearing uniforms. Black suit and tie paired with a skirt, socks, and shoes. One of the felintines was wearing slacks. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think he was suddenly transported back to Earth. Thankfully, the fact that they were surrounded by clouds helped him keep his reality in check. He observed Xiv while the three girls giggled. One in particular, the felintine in slacks, was brave enough to wink at the two before they finally went out of sight.

Xiv was ignoring the girls deliberately. Sure, he was aware of their passing, on-guard enough for any surprises, but subtle enough to not raise any suspicions.

“You think they’d attack you?” Frein asked.

“I’m technically on foreign soil. I wouldn’t be surprised if more assassins come looking for me.”

“They’re students.”

“I was eleven the first time I had to kill somebody. Some creep tried to mug me and my mother. She ended up dying to protect me and I lost control and killed the bastard. I’m not sure how it goes from where you came from, but here, you can’t be too young to know how to end someone’s life. The King’s justice is too slow and too preoccupied to deal with common-folk problems.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Frein said, the thought of the girls—the one that blinked in particular—turning out to be a cold-blooded assassin gave him a nasty thought. He knew himself well enough to hold back from killing any of them. But the thought of even just subduing someone so skinny and young left a bitter taste in his mouth. He resisted the urge to look back and check, trying to avoid unrelated misunderstandings.

“Me too,” Xiv said, melancholy apparent in his eyes. He got over it immediately. “It was a long time ago. It is how it is.”

It didn’t take long for the two to finally reach their destination.

“Frein Nivan and Xiv Arcturus.” A dwarven receptionist, a stout man with silky smooth beard, staying at a booth near the entrance called out their names. His eyes moved from his M.O.B.I.L.E. to them, verifying their identities.

“Aye, the Office of the Admiral sent word ‘bout yer visit. The facility’s at yer disposal. If ye need somethin’ to eat, just use the panel inside and it’ll be delivered to ye. There are shower rooms as well. If ye need some spare clothes, just let me know.”

He passed a pair of keycards through the slot on his window.

“Do you have anything summer-like for a formal occasion?” Frein asked, taking the cards and giving one to Xiv.

“Can ye elaborate?”

He pulled his buddy by the shoulder. “My friend here has a date tonight. Someone pretty special. We want to make an impression.”

“Don’t ye usually wear suits fer those? Formal wear and the like?”

“Summer look’s kind of the theme.”

The dwarf stroked his beard in contemplation. “If ye don’t mind the missus taking a look at ye, lad, I can call her over this afternoon. Free of charge since the Admiral’s paying.”

“Appreciate it,” Frein said and entered the facility.

“Thank you,” Xiv said as he followed.

“Facility’s constantly monitored with recording devices. Just so yer aware. The place is pretty sturdy fer anybody below Grand Virtuoso, so ye can go all out if ye’d like.”

Frein waved his thanks and worked on the door.

“Looks like even Admiral Garm’s vouching for you,” he commented towards Xiv as he slid the keycard on a slot provided near the door. It chimed and ejected the card right away before unlocking. It was as modern as it could get. The only thing lacking was an automatic detector to open the door hands-free.

“I didn’t even know.”

“Well you have Katherine to thank for that. Her dad’s too keen to grant requests to make his little girl happy. Apparently, all five of us have V.I.P. access. Yeah, including you.”is

The rectangular room inside was white and wide. Various equipment for training and exercise lined at the opposite end of the room, and then there was just simply nothing else aside from a wide space, probably around thirty meters or more across. Doors lined up on their left, which Frein assumed were the shower rooms. For their purposes today, this place was perfect.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“You still haven’t told me why we need to have this sparring session,” Xiv said.

“I’m bored, to be honest,” Frein admitted, finally. “Besides, I can’t help you properly if I don’t know more about you.”

“And you’ll know more about me through fighting? Couldn’t you just ask?”

“Too simple. Boring. Exchanging fists is better.”

“And what if one of us gets injured?”

“Katherine’s got our back.” Sam, or S.A.M., Katherine’s Sentient Assistant M.O.B.I.L.E. integrated with his own device, allowing the surprisingly silent fellow to hear emergency calls or peek at his own discretion when needed. Though he couldn’t fully transfer his consciousness, which was what they actually wanted to do. “Besides, we’re not fighting to the death.”

Xiv sighed. “I guess we have time. The sooner we get this done, the better.”

“That’s the spirit.” Frein retrieved two badges from his Spatiera. They were worth quite the hefty meiyal to store. At the time, both items had burned through half his reserves and had taken him to the edge of Art fatigue. They weren’t as much of a burden to him now.

In fact, he had used both items to practice the Meiyal Art. Like weight lifting, but for his meiyal system to increase his resistance against Art fatigue. They were quite helpful in that aspect, since he couldn’t get much use out of them.

He tossed both badges to Xiv, who casually caught them. A question formed on his face.

“Spoils of war,” Frein explained before the Vyndivalian could make assumptions. “I fought Hal and Ral, remember? It was the duel that ended the war. They gave that to me.”

“Because they chose exile over death,” Xiv continued. He tried to hide the venom in his words, but Frein didn’t miss it.

“I convinced them,” Frein explained. “There’s no honor in death if you can live a life making better of yourself and of others. If you are to sacrifice your life, let’s say, for the protection of other people, then that I’ll understand. But to die because your king said he wanted to invade another nation and force her innocents out of their lands? Disgusting.”

Xiv didn’t seem convinced, but he pushed the topic aside. “What do you want me to do with these? Use them?”

Frein shrugged. “I have my Display. It’s only fair you have a Forged Armament. I know they’re signature locked, but I have keen eyes. The signatures are the same. Though the two are twins, I doubt they’re so locked into their D.N.A.s that they even have the same meiyal signature.”

“It’s a specific signature, made for Lord Knights.”

“That feels a bit lacking, security-wise.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, there’s no stopping someone like you from using those then. What if a former Lord Knight gets his hands in one of these and—”

“That’s not going to happen,” Xiv interrupted. “These things are standard fare and a Meiyal Armament practitioner worth their title, especially Lord Knights, will have their own Forged Armament or something better in their Arsenal.”

Frein saw Xiv pour his Smelted meiyal over the silver badge and Donned the Armor.

“These things are nothing but reserves. Hal and Ral’s Armors were destroyed during our final expedition in the Nightmare Lands when we acquired the Jaws Lurking in the Forest before the Battle of the Vanguard. They had to make do with these toys.”

“Huh…” Frein wondered if he’d have a more difficult time with the twins if they had their better Armors. But a more pressing question surfaced in his mind. “I thought you can repair Forged Armors?”

Xiv Doffed the silver Armor and tried the black one. “You can, if they’re simply damaged. Something about the Nightmare Lands, the influence or simply the nature of the environment, completely destroyed their Armors. It’s nothing uncommon. Technically, it’s part of the job description if you’re specializing as a Nightmare hunter.”

He tapped the breastplate and nodded. “This one fits better.”

Frein scratched his head. “To be honest, I’m just using those two to bait some information out of you. Sorry. I actually have a better one here.” He reached into his Spatiera and pulled out a necklace.

Xiv reached out to him in a way that was close enough to begging. Frein didn’t have much time to choose a reaction and quickly gave up, giving the heirloom back to its owner.

“Cordralym,” Xiv whispered, opening the locket to find his parents’ image looking back at him. Frein took the liberty to check it himself earlier. “Why do you have it?”

“I asked Frill. Told her I’d have you Don it for research purposes. Promised to return it to her, but I guess you can fulfill that part.”

Xiv wasn’t exactly listening. He was pouring his Smelted meiyal over the heirloom. Gradually and slowly. Savoring every bit of transformation the locket undertook until it snuggly fit his entire body, unlike the discarded Armors earlier that only covered his torso.

The amount of meiyal permeating through the Armor was mind-boggling. To compare, even with four-meiyal, it would only take about a quarter of what Xiv was using to fully emphasize Frein’s Siffera. Anything else would simply be excessive without another meiyal-charged material to handle the meiyal and elevate the Art into a stronger form.

It made sense, given that Forged Armaments were created by a Meiyal Armaments practitioner through their Arsenal, which was the equivalent to a Meiyal Arts practitioner’s Exhibit.

Cordralym was a dark armor with red intricate outlines lining the edges. Frein couldn’t quite consider the thing as a plate or half-plate armor. It looked more like a combination of leather and steel. Small chains covered his joints with more proper steel covering parts of him that didn’t need to bend as much. A layer of leather covered his body like a suit and his trousers were also a mix of those materials.

They favored freedom of movement without compensating defense at all. The most impressive part was how quiet the entire set was. It wasn’t entirely silent, but the leather muffled the echoes steel on steel would create. The Armor also had a pair of greaves and gauntlets, following the same black and red design.

Frein observed the Vyndivalian relish the sensation of the Armor. Xiv tested out a few things; running, jumping, attacking, and all other sorts that involved dynamic and explosive movement. It impressed the Visitor, not exactly by the moves, but by how at ease those movements were done.

“I don’t suppose you also brought Benovrymm?” Xiv asked, relaxing. Frein could see hints of…Art fatigue?

“Say do you call it Armament fatigue rather than Art fatigue?” Frein couldn’t help but ask.

Xiv nodded. “It’s the meiyal core. I’m sure of it now that I know it was transplanted. It’ll take some getting used to, so I guess this sparring will help a lot now that I think about it.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, we technically have the same situation,” Frein said.

“I know about your meiyal system,” Xiv interjected. “Came from the Gatekeeper herself.”

“No, no that.” Frein pulled the collar of his shirt down to reveal a light scar in the middle of his chest. “I had a heart transplant, see.”

That stunned the Vyndivalian.

No surprises there. When Katherine almost died and had to replace most of her organs, Chief Healer Jo’war was specific enough to point out that she was lucky to have kept her heart away from irreparable harm. That, and the reproductive organs were the only ones they couldn’t synthetically produce.

“Don’t worry about it, though. I had it when I was pretty young. The doctors confirmed I had long enough to live. Well, that was before I became a Visitor. I was even strong enough to fight people without restraint. So don’t hold back on my account.”

“Do other people know?” Xiv asked. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nah,” Frein waved him off. “I’m sure Katherine would tell Kristel and Frill eventually, but aside from them, there shouldn’t be anybody else.

“And about your weapons, that’s a no,” Frein continued, not allowing the dead air to stifle their conversation. “Admiral Garm and Princess Kristel didn’t think it would be wise to give you everything back without earning a bit more trust. If for some wild reason you turn out to have some sort of objective or planning a suicide mission, you can really cause some damage given the place we’re in right now.”

“What about Frill?” Xiv asked, recovering slightly.

“Hmm?”

“Did she think I’m not trust worthy enough?”

Frein almost failed to stifle a laugh. “That’s what you’re worried about?” But thinking about it twice, he immediately understood. “I guess that’s fair. She didn’t bother arguing for it. Don’t read too much into that, though.”

“Well,” Xiv began, sighing, “I’m ready when you are.”

“Great.”

Frein opened his Display and emphasized his Siffera with four-meiyal. As usual, it didn’t take much of that meiyal quality to surge the Art to its upper limits. The usual fare was enough to maintain it. He concentrated the Art to enhance his physical capacity, which was nothing special. But it was enough to stir Elizzel awake.

Without prompts, the faunel pulled on the Tether to get a better read of the situation and immediately understood what they were about to do.

“I’m still sleepy,” she complained.

“Just watch for now, then.”

“Rules?” Xiv asked.

“A down gets you a point. You’re considered downed if three or more of your limbs touch the floor for whatever reason. First to five points wins. Winner gets to order the loser around for the rest of the day.”

“I have a date tonight, Frein.”

“Don’t lose?”

Frein threw his M.O.B.I.L.E. into the air. The device hovered and projected a screen that tallied the current scores, courtesy of the silent Sam, while recording the two of them.

“Use anything at your disposal,” Frein finished and began to Gather and Mill.

Xiv saw it and reacted expectedly. “I know that’s how you fight, but that’s really irritating.”

Frein just smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”

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