Training Grounds

Uren pushes against the ground as he chases after the hovering bag which seems to mockingly slip away from his grasp every time he attempts to approach it.

He punches, sending a powerful right, only to have his posture broken as the bag slides to its left, avoiding his fist almost completely. Still, without missing a beat, Uren rotates his body and elbows, nearly hitting the center of the bag.

“Your blows are powerful, but stiff and predictable. One must have their body move in conjunction, each movement a fluid waterway from beginning to end. You won’t catch it by trying to brute force your way through, that’s the whole point,” Jasper instructs as she watches from the side, a frown gradually growing over her expression.

It isn’t the first, or even the tenth the time she repeats something similar, and her words merely wash over Uren’s worn-out thoughts, who has grown tired of attempting to interpret their meaning mid-fight.

“You’re like a donkey chasing after the carrot. Think more than one or two moves ahead. Learn to see beyond your own nose!”

Uren kicks high, and the bag rotates itself to dodge his hit, then immediately glides along the ground, growing the distance between them.

If only…

Uren knees as he catches up to it once more, only to have his opponent continue to hover back, floating just out of his reach.

The damn thing…

“You’re tunneling on being faster, instead of sharper. If you must be a donkey, then focus on acceleration, instead of speed and power! Breath! Concentrate, and visualize your opponent’s options!”

Would stand still for a moment!

His breathing painfully sharp against his side, Uren forgoes all attempts of thought as he chases after the bag in a mad rage.

In his vision, Seijuro Aston’s mocking smile replaces the technologically advanced device as it continues to slip through his attempts at hitting it. Still, Uren feels as though he’s nearer after every hit, closer and closer to surpassing the device’s limits.

“Sharper, Uren! Not faster! Control, and precision! Fighting thoughtlessly will lead you nowhere! Pay attention to its sensing range!”

Sensing range? Sharper?

Uren stops as he takes a tired deep breath, and something seems to click into place in his mind. This time, he gives Jasper a glance instead of rushing ahead, who reciprocates with an encouraging smile and a nod.

“Feel like you’re closer to figuring it out?”

“You’re not… You’re not just saying random things to sound smart, right?” Uren manages to get through his rasped breathing.

Insulted-looking, Jasper throws Dominic a dirty look as the tall boy interrupts his own training to laugh.

“Shut up, you were much worse than him when you started. And you… Go on, give it a try. You’ll be able to judge my words after you’ve been able to hit the bag.”

“Sorry, had to make sure.”

Sharper…

Remembering an old saying from his homeland, Uren stares toward what might as well have become his mortal enemy over the course of these past hours. Jasper is right in that he has been fighting aimlessly until now, simply giving in to his instincts in order to vent his frustration.

But it has become clear he’ll not catch the damn thing by being stubborn.

Sensing range… Sharper…

Uren steps back, takes two steps to his right, and then suddenly leans forward as he dashes in the bag’s direction, sending a right only to rotate his body immediately after, reproducing his elbow from earlier.

Got you!

Uren smiles savagely as he feels the blow connect, though he doesn’t stop there, chasing after the retreating bag as he attempts to predict its movements and sharpen his blows, accelerating their execution in order to make sure the bag won’t have time to dodge.

It seems so simple! Why couldn’t he do it before?

“Uren, don’t lose yourself! Remember to-”

Abruptly, the bag rotates in place, rising its lower half toward him as Uren was about to punch it.

Moments later, as he finds himself laying on his back, Uren catches Jasper flinching at the corner of his vision.

“…Maintain your guard.”

Uren attempts to breathe for several seconds without being able to, his vision flickering as Jasper walks closer to stare down at him.

“It hits back, remember? I did warn you. Should I call for my- Master Utama?”

“I’m… I’m fine,” Uren manages to murmur toward the girl’s worried expression, even as he tries to rise only to fall again.

“You don’t look fine.”

Still, despite her clear hesitation, Jasper offers Uren her hand and helps him stand, holding onto his arm as he attempts to firm his legs once more.

“If you’re about to throw up, aim away from me.”

Though his vision still spins slightly, Uren chuckles. “Noted.”

“Everything good? Should I call for a stretcher?”

Jasper glances toward Dominic as he approaches them, long hair now tied as he pants and gives Uren a worried once-over.

“Uren? How do you feel?” Jasper asks.

“Dizzy,” Uren admits.

“Remember what my father had you do earlier? Can you do that again?”

Uren nods, closing his eyes as he concentrates on projecting his thoughts, ‘System, perform physical diagnosis.’

‘Physical diagnosis performed. Mr. Juric presents no major injuries necessitating immediate attention. Detected: Hydration at lower than recommended levels. Minor concussion.’

“It says I have a minor concussion,” Uren relays, to which Jasper nods.

“I assumed as much. Can you stand on your own?”

Uren nods, when a pair of claps suddenly crosses the dojo’s space, bringing the trio’s attention toward Master Utama, who stands in the middle of it.

“All right, that’s enough! You have twenty minutes, make sure to drink something!”

Jasper pats Uren on the back lightly as they’re surrounded by sighs of relief from nearby pupils who hurry to put away their equipment and head for a much-needed break.

“C’mon, let’s talk to him.”

“A hundred laps around the dojo for whomever arrivals late!” Master Utama completes, causing a couple of moans of complaint to pop out. “Don’t make me raise it to two hundred! Now go, away from my sight!”

As students leave in groups of two or three, more than a few throw glances at him, and Uren isn’t surprised. He doubts they’ll forget about his fight with Aston so soon. Master Utama, on the other hand, smiles as their trio approaches.

“Mister Juric, how do you fare?! I hope it wasn’t anything serious?”

“He has a minor concussion,” Jasper interjects.

“I’m not doing so well,” Uren admits, “Is that something… Is that something treatable in here?”

“Most certainly,” Master Utama confirms as he waves for Uren to approach. “Open your eyes wide for me, would you?”

As Uren does so, Jin grabs over his face gently in order to inspect his pupils, nodding to himself and stepping back after a moment.

“You’ll survive, Mister Juric. Though you’d best rest for now, take the rest of the morning to accustom yourself to our Training Grounds and visit the infirmary. Jasper will accompany you there.”

“I’ll grab something to drink and talk to some people, see if I can smoothen things for Uren. Same as always?” Dominic asks as he finishes his sentence by giving Jasper a glance.

“Thanks,” the girl replies with a grateful nod. “I’ll meet you here in a bit then.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Bro. I hope you choose our dojo, but even if you don’t, don’t be scared to ask for help when you need it.”

Dominic smiles in reply to Uren’s nod, walking after the other students as he waves over his shoulder.

“Jasper, would you please tidy some of the equipment as I have a talk with Mister Juric?”

Jasper rolls her eyes, though she doesn’t protest.

“How do you feel, Uren? And I don’t mean your headache.”

Abandoning his usual smile, Master Utama furrows his brows as he rests his hand upon Uren’s shoulder, guiding them toward a more private corner.

“In truth? I’m not sure, Mr. Utama. Much happened since I woke up today. Too much, considering we’re still mid-morning.”

Jin snorts. “I must admit, you managed to impress me. Your base is solid, and I believe you’d make for a formidable fighter given enough time and effort… Though I feel your heart lays somewhere else. Is that accurate?”

Uren sighs as they stop and Jin turns his far-too-knowing gaze in his direction once more.

“I suppose I have far too much on my mind already. I’m sorry.”

“You need not to apologize, Uren. Life rarely offers us the options we wish for, and I have a hunch your options were worse than those I might have wished for anyone. I’ll not ask. Do you understand why?”

Faced by the other man’s unbending gaze, Uren has no choice other than to avert his eyes away first. Inevitably, they fall upon the rest of the large dojo, still occupied enough with students to be considered noisy. Laughs, smiles and tired expressions… On the students faces, their love for the place is as clear as day.

“I believe I do. Don’t worry, I’m already grateful for everything Mr. Utama has done so far. I’m sure my situation would be worse had I actually punched her, and Mr. Utama didn’t have to wait for me outside either. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry, Uren. I hope you find your path.”

“Do you think I have a chance?”

Jin smiles sadly. “Against Aston? Perhaps. It has been done before, if you’re curious to know. Though never easily, and never without a price.”

“Thank you. I won’t ask for more.”

Jin nods. “Now, in regards to your evaluation, I believe you’ll fit well in a blue kimono. Do make sure you look into their ranks at some point.”

Uren smiles. “White, green, blue, red, then black?”

Jin raises his eyebrow, and Uren shrugs.

“Dominic explained them to me.”

Jin nods. “I see. In that case, last but not least, for your next time here, you’ll be free to either return or experiment in one of the other dojo’s the Institute has to offer. The decision is yours.”

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Uren bows and joins his fists toward the taller man, who smiles.

“Walk safely, Mister Juric. Keep yourself out of trouble, yes?”

“I’ll try my best,” Uren promises, exchanging one last parting nod with Jin Utama before walking toward his daughter, who reminds Uren of a particularly grumpy sheepherder as she works to round the dojo’s hovering punching bags toward some sort of organized formation.

“Move! Why won’t you move?!”

Containing his smile, Uren clears his throat and calls out to her, “Jasper?”

Jasper ends up sighing as she gives up and manually pushes the last bag to hover near the others, where it falls toward the ground, Uren assumes, in order to save energy.

“Is there something wrong with that one?”

“Sort of? I mean, everything breaks eventually, especially when their purpose is being punched. I’ll tell Father it needs to be replaced later. C’mon, let’s go.”

Jasper gestures for him to follow as she heads toward the exit, and Uren doesn’t hesitate in doing so.

“I thought you still had some time left before the end.”

“We’ll probably have spars in the second half. No need for the bags,” Jasper explains as she gives Uren a sidelong once-over. “How are you doing?”

“Better.”

They descend the stairs leading toward the cluster of kimono-wearing students outside going about their business, watching a couple of ongoing fights, or simply talking in small groups of friends, and, briefly reminding Uren of Sara, Jasper doesn’t hesitate to enter the fray of bodies, though she does slow her pace after a moment, allowing Uren to catch up without a problem.

“So, how was it to enter Fioro as a foreigner?”

“Overwhelming,” Uren admits.

“Do you miss home? Crecia, right?”

“Somewhat, I suppose. In truth, I haven’t really stayed in the same place for more than a couple of months since…”

Uren allows his voice to trail off, unsure about how much he wishes to share. Eventually, Jasper gives him a glance and he shrugs, averting his gaze and watching as one of the fights ends abruptly in a chorus of cheers and boos.

“My father told me you came here so you could find a way to help your country. Is that true?”

Surprised, Uren ends up nodding as his gaze snaps back to her. “How did he…?”

“He’s well connected,” Jasper explains, shrugging. “More importantly, why do you care? You have money, right? Why not stay here from now on? Isn’t Crecia just the place where you were born?”

Why does she care?

“…When I was a kid, my father used to take our family around our hometown every now and then… Before the bombings destroyed most of it. I still remember the unbearable heat of the summer, the smile on the faces of the fishermen trying to impress us as we passed through, and their angry shouts as soon as we went out of sight. My sister used to find it so funny… She used to laugh about it for days afterward… And at the end of the afternoon, we would go to the beach, and the ocean breeze would make everything worth it…”

Uren pauses, Jasper’s fixed gaze bringing his mind back to the present. “The funny part is, I used to hate those days. My brothers would pick on me. My sister was too young to have a real conversation with, and Father would always pay more attention to them than me, anyway.”

His heirs and precious princess…

“I would have given anything to be back in my room playing video games.”

Jasper stops, and Uren glances toward the modern-looking building from which not many students seem to come close as a hovering gurney carrying a groaning student is brought inside.

“I know,” the prince continues, “That even if I stop the war, even if I rebuilt the city just the way it was, things can never go back to what they were. I’m not really sure if I even want them to.”

“Then why?”

“It’s my responsibility. My people, my country… They’re dying, and nobody is doing anything to stop it.”

In the end, faced with the prince’s gaze, Jasper sighs as she averts her eyes. “Do you at least have a plan?”

Uren smiles. “Sorry, but I can tell where this is going, and your father would kill me.”

Jasper frowns. “You don’t know me.”

“Maybe not. But I can tell you’re itching for a fight. Jasper, please, I’ve already made enough of a mess for the day.”

“Fine,” she relents, to Uren’s relief, “You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

Uren watches her go with a sigh, before turning toward what he assumes to be the school’s infirmary. Hopefully, fixing his concussion will be less painful than acquiring it.

***

Training Ground’s Vicinity

Was there really a need to scream so loudly for a simple broken arm?

What do they mean, she should take a walk and calm herself?

She’s calm.

In fact, her mind is a temple; An emotionless, machine-like entity of the highest order.

She… Fucked up, didn’t she?

Seijuro slows her rushed steps as she releases a sigh. Glancing at her surroundings, perhaps for the first time since she left the Training Grounds behind, the princess sees herself surrounded by the tall trees of the Institute’s pathways, much further from her dojo than she intended to go.

…At least, the walk back will give her time to cool her head and write an appropriate apology to post later.

As she begins a slow walk back, Seijuro raises her smartwatch and commands the System to open the Community, which displays a hologram of her selfie with Melinda this morning, as well as several pages of comments underneath. Uninterested, Seijuro closes the post and reveals the main page of her profile.

Using a few commands, Seijuro would be able to open the Institute’s page and find the name she’s looking for, but… A certain post on her personal page catches her attention before she can start. Several of them, actually.

The first one contains Beatrice’s doing, a trending video starring Uren and an unknown girl, where the prince is portrayed as some sort of stalker, which Seijuro was pleasantly surprised to wake up to, since the public’s reaction was close to what she hoped for, and the damage nearly impossible to repair.

Strike one.

The second post is more recent, containing Seijuro’s spar from earlier in the morning. Once more, the video isn’t edited, starting moments after she arrived at the dojo, and ending with a shot of her back disappearing as she quickly leaves.

The irony of her current predicament doesn’t escape Seijuro, as she would later commit the same mistake, in greater gravity, than she led Uren to. Alas, it is unlikely anyone will connect things in a way that will clear the prince’s reputation, or shield him from criticism.

Strike two.

And if everything goes as planned, soon the picture will be fully formed: Prince Uren Hoxha Juric, Elysium’s enemy seeking revenge for a war that has nothing to do with them in the first place.

Good luck convincing them to help after that.

Still, despite the plan’s success, Seijuro doesn’t smile. Crushing the prince is merely a necessity, after all. Not exactly something to celebrate.

The next post, which Seijuro almost ignores before realizing what it contains, is a national announcement from her father, foretelling a live broadcast for tomorrow and a press conference afterward. The post holds no information about the content of said broadcast, other than a warning of its importance.

Her “internship”, Seijuro figures.

Lastly, the rest of her page contains private messages from people she has created a Link with, her earlier posts, posts from her friends, and other important news in regards to Fioro, Elysium, or the Institute.

Though normally she might browse through those, today Seijuro merely makes a mental note to do so later (a real one, without the help of the System), once she has more time, in the hopes she might find some sort of clue as to what her father is planning, or hiding.

Why was she in the Community again…?

…Right, public apology.

Seijuro stops and raises her head as she reaches an intersection in the pathway, wondering if she should take the longer path, rather than the shorter one. A cold drink might make her day bearable, but what would people think if they connect the dots?

She’s supposed to be repenting, after all…

Seijuro is about to continue on her way when, of all things, the distant notes of a melody catch her attention.

Is that… A violin?

Odd as it may be, the princess doesn’t give it much thought. Instead, she ends up thinking of Beatrice, and their strange interaction earlier.

Why did she treat the little imp so well?

Why did she go out of her way to offer help?

Was it mere guilt?

Pity? For the girl’s seemingly endless need for attention?

In any case, whatever it may be, Seijuro will have to figure it out before their meeting today, lest she do something she might regret.

“Er, excuse me… If I said this was a coincidence, would you believe me?”

…

Despite Uren’s extensive mental preparation, he still feels as though electricity shoots through his spine once Seijuro, having heard him, quickly raises her gaze in his direction.

Faced with the princess’s black eyes, Uren’s carefully prepared speech crumbles as a sand castle against the tide, and he finds himself wordless as she glances toward the contents of his grip, a pair of carefully wrapped blue kimonos.

“I don’t appreciate being followed.”

…And yet, it’s too late to retreat after coming this far.

“…I was on my way to put these away when I saw you running.” Uren shakes the kimonos slightly as if to prove his point, making it so the princess’s eyes meet his again. “I didn’t mean to follow you. I just wanted to thank you for coming to welcome me personally, and for what you said back there.”

“We’re nowhere near the student’s lockets. Do you take me for a fool?”

Once more, Uren’s prepared smile wavers. So, he might have followed her for a couple minutes before gathering the courage to approach, but he didn’t expect the princess to be so… direct, when confronted away from a crowd. Is this her real personality? Or just another show?

“Like I said, I wanted to thank you for earlier, it was really… nice of you.”

“You’re welcome. Is that all?”

At last, Uren completely abandons his smile as it becomes obvious he won’t accomplish anything by acting oblivious.

So be it.

“Look, Miss Aston, I might not know exactly what sort of game you’re playing, but I’m not stupid. I know you’re behind the videos.”

Seijuro raises her eyebrow. “The videos…? Oh, you must mean the school’s forum.” She shakes her head sadly. “I’m sorry, but I have no authority over what’s allowed to be posted in there. I’m afraid I can’t help you if that’s why you came here for.”

Uren clenches his teeth. Is the mocking glow of her gaze simply in his imagination? Are her lips trembling from holding back her laughter?

He can’t allow himself to lose his cool. It’ll be over then.

“You know… You know that’s not what I mean. But no matter, I didn’t expect you to admit to your crimes like a cliché villain just because I asked. In fact, I couldn’t take what you said about Crecia from my mind since. Was there any part of it your honest thoughts?”

“I meant it,” Seijuro admits simply. “However, if you wish for something other than a refuge from my country, my father is the one you should be looking for... Oh, and if you ever manage to get a spot on his agenda, please do let me know. I’ve been trying for months now.”

Once more, Uren inspects the princess’s expression for any signs of mockery, finding none other than a slight upturn of her lips, perhaps caused by her own joke.

This…

Is she really the one behind the videos? Was their fight really an act to damage his reputation?

Could the videos have been mere coincidences…?

Suddenly, the princess’s expression breaks as she laughs softly, attempts to recompose herself, and ends up averting her gaze toward the trees surrounding their conversation, almost as if ashamed.

“Sorry, sorry… I guess seeing the doubt in your face was a bit too much for me. Where were we?”

As Seijuro gives Uren a sidelong glance, he finds himself clenching his fists, though, in spite of his anger, shame, and hatred, her mocking gaze still sparks in him a wave of relief. Finally, finally, they’re talking to each other.

“Is this all just a game to you?”

“A game? Far from it. In fact, I take the well-being of my people very seriously… As well as those who may try to harm them.”

“I seek to harm no one-”

“Spare me your excuses. I know what you came here for.”

“Do you really… not care at all about what happens outside Elysium?”

Seijuro smiles, her gaze growing condescending. “Do you care for the animals butchered in order to produce your food, Prince?”

What did she just…?

For a moment, Uren’s shock stops him from moving or speaking. His gaze widens, and he might have stepped forward, had a tiny voice on the back of his mind not screamed for caution.

And so, instead of giving leeway to his overflowing emotions, Uren calmly glances over his shoulder, daring not to move as he spots a quartet of boys, surprise written over their expressions as one of them raises his smartwatch directly in Uren’s and Seijuro’s direction.

“How dare you?! I’ll not stand for this sort of behavior! Look, I’m sorry for what happened earlier, but you have no right… No right to…!”

Seijuro’s voice causes Uren to flinch, and sure enough, as he returns his gaze to her, what he finds is not the calm, mocking princess of moments prior, but a red-faced, fist-clenched girl who is the picture-perfect image of indignation.

“You’re… not a very nice person, are you?”

“Do you think they can see my expression from there? Or maybe I should…” Her voice soft, Seijuro’s expression changes to shocked, then upset, as she gives a single step back, as if to put distance between the aggressor and herself, and creates what Uren assumes is a clear line of sight for the camera. “This should be better. Were you saying?”

“Seijuro Aston,” Ureo manages to murmur through his clenched teeth, determined to put all of his resolve onto his next words, “I’ll go as far as I have to. I’ll pay whatever price is needed.”

“Is that a threat?” Seijuro asks, expression unchanged. “The price may be higher than you think, Prince of Crecia.”

Uren’s heart beats fast against his chest. He can hear their voices and footsteps approaching, but… Should he leave…?

No, it would only seem as if he run after realizing he was being filmed!

“Not a threat, but a warning, and a promise. We don’t need to be enemies. Tell me what it would take… Anything!”

“What could you possibly offer I don’t already possess? Or my country?”

“A chance to talk is all I ask for,” Uren speaks calmly, forcing himself to stare into the princess’s dark eyes in plea, rather than hatred. “Your father rejected every attempt we made at negotiating. I understand your country has no obligation or responsibility to help us, but what other choice-”

“Hey, asshole! Leave her alone!”

Uren’s braid is suddenly grabbed from behind, and, shocked, he tries to recover his balance only to find himself on the wrong side of a fist as he ducks and counters by reflex, realizing his years of training have kicked in as a sickening noise accompanies his assailant’s collapse.

“Wait, don’t fight!”

Seijuro’s shout stops the other boys dead in their tracks, giving Uren enough time to step back and analyze the situation as Seijuro runs past him and throws herself on her knees, lightly slapping the fallen boy’s bloodied face as he groans in protest.

Judging by the boys’ green kimonos, they’ve also come from the dojos’ area, but their shocked expression showcases they have no intention of finishing what their friend started.

“I… We didn’t know he was about to…”

“What are you waiting for?! Ask the System for a stretcher! He hit his head on the ground, it could be serious!”

“Y-yes, of course, Miss Aston… You idiot, stop filming already!”

Did he not know better, Uren might have truly believed Aston is upset. Glancing toward his stinging fist and dropped kimonos, he takes a deep breath as he ignores his thundering heartbeat in order to crouch and grab them.

Is there anything he could say or do in order to salvage the situation…?

He was attacked first…

One of the boys puts himself in between Uren and his fallen friend, narrowing his eyes toward him. “What about him?” he asks.

Seijuro raises her gaze toward them for long enough to frown. “He’s leaving. Isn’t he?”

…

As he walks away, Seijuro stares toward the prince’s back thoughtfully.

Though it gives her no pleasure, a victory is still a victory, and the fact his reputation is now truly ruined means she’ll be able to focus on her father’s first assignment.

“I-I asked for it… It says the stretcher we’ll be here in thirty seconds, and that we’re not supposed to move him.”

“What the hell is wrong with that guy?!”

Staring toward her blood-stained hand, Seijuro sighs. “He’s from Crecia. A prince, in fact.”

“Wait, serious- No, what am I saying? Of course, I believe Miss Aston.”

Clenching her fist, Seijuro shakes her head sadly. “His country is at war, and he believes we are to blame. Vengeance and hatred cloud his thoughts… But I didn’t expect he’d go this far…”

“That’s… Hey man, drop it already! Why the hell are you still filming?!”

“Ouch, okay, shit, I’ll stop! I’ll stop!”

Seijuro stares with relief toward the hovering stretcher in the distance as it approaches, occupied by two infirmary nurses and accompanied by a bot.

She did exaggerate the boy’s injury to some extent, but it wouldn’t do to have him miss his afternoon classes over this.

“Ah, Miss Aston, how do I put this… Should we post this video? If you’d prefer, we could keep quiet about what happened here…”

And rium all of her hard work?

Seijuro raises her gaze toward the hesitating boy, frowning as she sighs. “Thank you, but I’ll leave the decision to you. Your friend almost died, after all, and the video showcases nothing but the simple truth.”

“She’s right. Fuck that guy, he’s got what’s coming for him.”

“I guess… I mean, sure, if you’re okay with us posting it Miss Aston…”

Seijuro contains a sigh of relief.

Should’ve read the rules of the game, Mister Juric. Strike three… And you’re out.