The ground trembled beneath their hooves, the rhythmic pounding reverberating through my bones. The knights' weapons glowed ominously, casting eerie reflections off their armor. I could see the determination in their eyes, the single-minded focus on taking me down. There was no room for error.
There was a fire lighting in me that I hadn't felt before. It was my fixation on coming first. Lance wasn't part of today's competition; the best against me were Lauren, Katya, and of course Gideon. But I felt I had crossed a line, passed them. Whether it was true or not, I was fiercely determined to maintain this reality. That was why I wouldn't settle for surviving the day or even placing second. I was going to beat Gideon out and take first place. The crowd was watching. Father was watching. Baltizar was watching. Already, I could imagine the reaction the city would have to a trainee activating and employing the Footfield so early. What would all of that be for if I just allowed these charging horsemen to push me back down, to let the others pass me?
In the last days, I had done things that I knew, felt in my heart, were truly remarkable. So many people had said as much. But I'd done these remarkable things just to barely keep my head above water. I announced myself the day before, defeating Gideon with the sword even when it was two against one, nearly defeating Lance. Today was my day.
Instead of trying to evade the charging knights, I raced straight towards them. I wasn't allowed to attack them, but I could defend myself.
I charged right at them. This was perhaps the last thing they had been expecting. Horses whinnied in fright as their riders pulled their reigns, turning the beasts desperately to try and meet my unexpected angle.
The first knight swung his glowing sword at me. I raised my own weapon, the CUT attribute blazing to life, and deflected his blow. Sparks flew, and the force of our clash sent vibrations through my arm.
The second knight came at me from the side, his lance aimed at my side. I twisted my body, bringing up my SHIELD. My motion turned me so that the weapon could hop off the surface of the SHIELD, glancing away. Most of the energy dissipated. The force still winded me, but I kept my feet. I lashed out again with CUT to knock the lance aside and keep moving.
The third knight's horse reared up in front of me, hooves flailing. I ducked low, rolling beneath the horse's belly, and sprang up on the other side. The knight barely had time to react before I was already past him.
More horses slammed into each other. Men cursed and shouted. I had come up through the middle of them, compressing them, leaving them with room to turn or maneuver. I could feel the violence of horses hooves on the ground, could feel the vibrations, but I had open space in front of me again.
I could feel the pursuit, the pounding hooves. I could image a glowing lance tip pointed at my back, or an arm drawn back to hurl an axe. I didn't look back; there was no time. My focus was entirely on the path ahead, the next fence, and the open path beyond where I could once again employ the Footfield if I needed to.
I had taken a straight line, and even though dealing witht the knights had caused some delay, I found Gideon hadn’t gained the kind of ground he intended. It was just him and me and open ground..
Gideon and I raced neck and neck, our strides matching each other. There was something exhilarating about matching our bodies against each other. From here to the fence there was no choosing, no strategy. It was just the physicality of one of us against the physicality of the other.
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The voice spoke, crashing through my focus. “Oh, he’s very good, so determined. I must say, I like him too, but unlike you, he doesn’t have the je ne sais quoi that you carry, that special intangible spark.”
I didn’t have the breath to hiss at the voice to shut up and stop distracting me. I could feel Gideon’s presence, sense his determination. We were evenly matched, both pushing our limits, neither willing to yield.
The voice continued, unbothered by my silence. “I’ve been thinking, this path between the fields is quite short as well, but after this last field, when you’re back in the open, you might, just might, have enough room to fire the Footfield again and skip forward.”
I thought back to the voice, as the next fence drew closer, “That’s an awfully short gap for the Footfield.”
The voice giggled. I hated it when it did that. The being was so unworldly and knowledgable, it was creepy and disconcerting when it made that high childish sound. “Yes, it is, isn’t it? You could kill yourself or lots of innocent people in the crowd if you don’t stop in time.”
I plunged forward, my mind wrestling with the decision. Would I risk lives just to take first place? It seemed impossible that I would fall further behind than second. Even as I pondered this, the voice commented, “There’s a pretty good gap opening up between you and this hothead and the rest. That pretty leggy blond you like to stare at is the next closest, and she still has some yards to go to close the gap.”
We reached the fence, Gideon and I both leaping over it in unison. We landed in the next field, a grassy expanse stretching out before us. The knights were more dispersed here, their attention divided. The open space gave us more room to maneuver, but it also meant the knights had more room to charge.
Gideon surged ahead. Dirt and grass sprayed as he churned the earth. He was breathtaking in his ferocity and his determination. But, somehow, I matched his pace. I marveled at what I was doing, matching the most physical of the competitors at his own game.
The knights came at us again. I might have been a preferred target, but there had been mention of incentives. Prizes or honors were to be awarded for stopping us. Gideon got his own fair share of attention from this squad of mounted killers. But, I certainly got more.
The fear had grown less and less with each other. The disconcerting terror at the wall of meat that was a charging horse had lessened. The panic at the sight or sound of a looming power weapon was much less than before. Maybe my adrenaline was just consumed. Maybe I was growing accustomed to this madness. Maybe I was growing in experience.
Whatever the case, I moved through the gauntlet of horse and weapon with a growing detachment. It was less about urgent reaction than I had realized. A fraction of a heartbeat was worth expending if it let you plan your steps, your actions. And I gave myself those fractions, not moving with quite the same urgency, stepping with greater calm, employing SHIELD and CUT to maximum effect.
And just as fast as the force had enveloped me, they were past. The ringing of weapon on weapon, the desperate steps and lunges, were done with. It was just Gideon and I and open space once more.
We leapt over the final fence together. Beyond this would be the final stretch. It was just him and me now, none of the others could catch either of us to contend first place. I swelled with the urge to beat him with my legs. I craved the thrill of beating him with my body, not the Footfield.
As we landed, I anticipated Gideon taking a swing at me. I considered swiping at him myself. It was within the rules, after all. The crowd awaited, maybe a mile away, their cheers growing louder. I could see the banners fluttering, and hear the distant music of instruments.
There was space now, the rest of our classmates were far enough back that the knights had regrouped to chase after them. Disaster was the only thing that could change the outcome for Gideon and me.
But as I landed, tense to anticipate an attack from Gideon, it was the earth that betrayed me. Like before, I came to the ground a little too hard, found a surface that was a little too disagreeable to to principle of friction. My foot shot out from under me and I slammed to the dirt.
Gideon glanced back. His mouth opened in the briefest moment of surprise. Then he was gone, all business, all intentions.
He raced forward, his figure shrinking as he surged towards the finish line, towards first place.