Morning found Yenx making his way to the Hall of the Body.
He’d had a lot of wild thoughts during the ‘night’ (which only consisted of the torches somehow giving off a lot less light). He’d thought about trying to sneak away while everyone was at class, or just avoiding the main halls and looking for secret libraries where maybe they wrote down where all the blanks came from.
It all seemed really unlikely to work. Based on what Zemp and Arro had told them, they’d been doing this for quite a while. He could only imagine that past initiates had tried most everything that might be tried.
He ignored the little voice within which asked, with devilish innocence, whether those past initiates might not have tried anything, because they’d followed that same chain of logic and assumed that even more ancient Aspirants would have taught the system all possible paths of resistance.
It would have helped an awful lot, though, to know whether his past self, the real one with a lifetime of memories, had actually consented to this whole arrangement or not. It was one thing if he was living the life that someone had given everything up to give him, quite another if they’d just grabbed him up because he was tall.
In any case, he hadn’t had to think terribly hard about which Hall would be the best to start with. If most Parties had someone from each Hall in them, then he had a wild guess as to which Hall contributed the smallest amount of leaders. His current, extremely shaky, plan for sneaking past the judges was to be someone’s giant bodyguard, which meant he needed to be trained in how to fight.
Beyond that, he just didn’t like the idea of being markedly weaker than his peers. If the Hall of the Body was about adapting the elixir’s energy to battle, then that was where he wanted to be. He figured, based on the Guilders he’d seen so far, that the organization was probably better at making them stronger than it was at doing anything else.
It seemed like this was a popular conclusion, because he counted twenty two other Aspirants in the Hall, meaning it had gotten more visitors than the other two Halls combined.
The Guild’s Instructor was a full Guilder, judging by the fact that he wore his Sigil as a belt, but he carried no other Treasures on his person.
“Aspirants!” he boomed. “Attend to the words of this elder brother!”
He was extraordinarily huge for a human, only about half a head shorter than Yenx, and far broader. The hair from his chin reached down almost to his belt, and he was wearing at least three layers of iron chains, each shaped into a kind of robe that hung from his shoulders almost down to his ankles.
“I am Rakla, of the Joyous Party! My elder sister, who ordinarily shoulders this momentous responsibility, was unable to teach you on this day, and I have volunteered my unworthy self for the purpose!”
Rakla seemed to communicate entirely by shouting, although the room was utterly still and silent. He could have spoken normally and they would all have heard him.
He strode to the center of one of the circles in the sand, indicating by gesture that they were to take their places around him.
“Jemekka, who you will soon have the privilege of learning from, believes that learnings go in best when blood is coming out! She would have established her authority with wild displays of violence. I believe that that would be to no purpose, because I trust you understand my place above you!
The circle of Aspirants bowed with hand in fist. Yenx cut his bow short, making sure his eyes never totally left the human, so he could follow his motions if he suddenly took action.
“Beloved brethren! I commend you for making the correct choice of which hall’s learning is most important. The Guild can plan, and command respect, because of its might. Power is our root and foundation! Before you can accomplish anything, you must be mighty!”
Rakla clenched a fist, held it in the air before him.
“Today I will go, briefly, over the battles you will face during your lives. Then you will battle one another, and finally I will conclude with an explanation of the proper allocation of your Elixir for Brute, Warden and Guilder patterns. If this doesn’t meet with your satisfaction, then speak now!”
“Honored elder brother! I wonder if we might not also be instructed on the Gods and Goddesses? For us blanks the matter is very confusing!”
Yenx gazed with absolute amazement at a beastman who was apparently just the worst at picking up cues.
“Step into the middle of the ring, junior brother!”
The ursin stomped his way forward, looking nervously around.
“Why did I ask that?” Yenx caught him muttering under his breath.
“What is your name, younger brother?”
“Bunko.”
“Well, Bunko, you have just volunteered to exchange pointers with this instructor, but if you hold up well during the process, then I will, at its end, answer your worthy question! Are you prepared?”
Bunko bowed, fist in hand.
“The first battle that you will face, brethren, is the Reaping. This occurs when you stand at the forefront of a fighting force of the Sect’s, and you must cut your way through the naturals of the opposing side.”
He motioned for Bunko to come at him, and the beastman didn’t waste a single second, pouncing at the Guilder in a mighty leap.
Yenx’s eyes widened. He’d had no idea that a beastman could hurl themselves forward so swiftly.
Rakla didn’t blur like Zemp had done, nor did he raise his hands to block the descending claws. Instead he stepped forward, right into the arc of Bunko’s pounce, and swept his arm across, deflecting the descending paws and rotating the Beastman’s bulk as though it was weightless.
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Bunko grabbed onto him as he came down, his talons snagging in the chain robe, but Rakla was already stepping ahead, using the arm that’d he deflected him with to shove Bunko’s enormous mass away as though it weighed nothing.
Bunko sprawled across the ground, but he was up in an instant.
“A line of naturals is almost no threat,” said Rakla, “And there is no need to waste time on them. Toss them aside and push ever forward. Let those behind see that such creatures cannot daunt you. The most important thing is to keep your view clear and your hands free! A natural’s greatest danger is that he immobilizes you as another myrmidon makes their first attack!”
Bunko, seeing that the lecture was back on, contented himself with putting up his fists in a fighting posture, rather than pouncing again.
“In the field,” continued the Guilder, “You will almost never see an enemy Beastman. Your adversaries will be primarily goblin throngs and enemy frames. You will terrify the first, and the second are slow and cumbersome. So long as you are competent, and capable, the Reaping will remain a simple chore.”
He paused, a grimace spreading across his face.
“That applies only to our old adversaries, I should point out. It’s what I was taught. But the weeds have their own battle doctrine, utterly different from our own, and their flatbows and wonder weapons complicate matters. Take every precaution, junior brothers and sisters!”
Rakla began an orbit of the ring, peering at each of them as he passed, pointedly ignoring the center of the circle where Bunko awaited.
“The second situation you will find yourself battling in we term the Joust!” he barked, “Again, you are at the head of an army, only this time an enemy myrmidon, positioned likewise at the head of their forces, is making his way to you!”
He turned, suddenly, and pointed at Bunko.
Bunko needed no more detailed invitation. He charged with an earthshaking roar.
This time it was the human’s turn to pounce. Rakla threw himself at the beastman’s chest, brutally smashing him backwards and spilling him across the floor, riding his twitching form down onto the ground.
It was an unbelievable sight, the myrmidon slamming, with main strength, an enemy twice his size down onto the hard packed sand. Yenx’s eyes had originally been tricked, following the wrong trajectory, as though Bunko would have carried them down.
Rakla bounced instantly back to his feet, arms raised in victory, even as he delivered a savage kick to the side of Bunko’s head where it rested against the ground.
He must have pulled the blow, because the beastman’s skull didn’t cave in, but the enormous room echoed with the resounding ‘thwack’ of the dull impact.
“What matters most in the Joust is the energy, the impact!” bellowed Rakla. “Your army’s eyes are on you, but they are also at war. There cannot be a single instant where you look weak, or defeated! You must always advance, crushing your enemy back to the ground in an instant. Leave no onlooker any room to doubt our omnipotence! Give no water to the tree of routing and fleeing, nor any feed to the pig of not charging!”
There was no way Bunko was getting up for the third round of this. Vomit or something was starting to pool up around the side of his mouth.
“Aunt Umaghdra, the Maggot herself, has this to say, which I believe applies well to the spirit of the Joust!”
Rakla paused a moment, clearly working to make sure he didn’t err while quoting an Autarch.
“If you sleep when war begins, you sleep forever when it ends.”
Meanwhile, Bunko just lay there, his hands and paws twitching irregularly.
“Elder Brother!” said some idiot, “May I have the honor of exchanging pointers in Bunko’s stead, as you explain the third situation?”
Yenx looked around a bit, only to see everyone looking back at him, and realized with a sinking feeling that he was the one talking.
Rakla turned and beckoned him in, shoving Bunko with a heel, such that the beastman went skidding and rolling across the ground. A pair of Aspirants had to step aside before he bowled them over.
“Your name, scaly?” asked the Guilder.
“This humble one is called ‘Yenx’,” he responded. “I thank the Honored Elder Brother for his wise instruction!”
There was no possible way to win, not against a myrmidon, so Yenx’s priority in this ‘fight’ was not to avoid being crippled. He kept his eyes on the Guilder, who began to do his pacing circuit all over again.
“The last situation, of course, is the rarest and most deadly. This is a situation which we call The Duel. I’m sure you can guess at the basic way that comes about.”
Yenx put his hands up, watched the human’s careful approach.
“This can be as simple as another myrmidon charging you in a city street, or it can be a formal affair. The thing that distinguishes the Duel is…”
He took a pair of charging steps towards Yenx, who lifted his arms in a fruitless defense, only for Rakla to check his rush and step back.
“You have no time pressure, you can be as careful as you like.”
Rakla was advancing again, not in a wild rush like before, but in a series of measured steps, each one moving him closer without ever creating a gap in his guard.
Yenx swung his arm in an enormous overhand blow, trying to smash the Guilder’s head in. Rakla caught the attack with crossed arms, then transitioned smoothly to seized him by elbow and wrist.
Yenx felt the first ripples of pain, and grabbed ahold of his opponent’s nearer hand, consumed by some fruitless dream of stopping the Guilder from ripping off his arm.
Instead, Rakla simply heaved with both hands, just before Yenx could close his hold, and he felt his feet leave the ground, saw the Guilder diminish beneath him, and felt a crushing impact on his upper back.
The world spun about Yenx as he dropped back down to the ground, a pair of Aspirants diving aside so he wouldn’t slam into them.
“No risks!” continued Rakla, “No need to take chances. In a Duel, you do your best to win, break your enemy and preserve your own life. Fighting at its finest!”
Yenx hauled himself to his feet, glancing up at the ceiling where he’d impacted. It felt like there ought to be a crater or something, but it was undamaged.
“When Reaping, keep your mind and your eyes on the approach of enemy myrmidons! When Jousting, move swiftly, take down your enemy and rally your allies! When Dueling, preserve your life at all costs, let victory find its clearest path! These are the tenets of the Big Strong Sect!”
Yenx pushed back into the ranks of the Aspirants, trying to not to show anyone the way the world seemed to be spinning around him. He felt sore, bruised, but not broken.
“Aspirants!” bellowed Rakla, “I explain these principles first, because they are the same for you as they are for the Autarchs. No matter what Arts you learn, what Treasures you bear, you must always distinguish between combat as a distraction, combat as an inspiration, and that genuine combat which sorts myrmidons and brings triumph only to the fittest.”
Everyone bowed, hands in fists.
“Now,” he continued, “I believe I promised Bunko an answer to his question. In the wake of his injuries, and the fact that he was able to inspire a fellow Aspirant to step in and bear his load, I’m prepared to fulfill that promise.”
Bunko had, somehow, made his way back to his feet. Yenx couldn’t decide if he’d overestimated how badly he’d been smashed in the first place, or whether the elixir was already working its influence on the Aspirants, after only one dose.
Rakla looked around at the rest of them.
“The argument could be made that by rewarding him for a task he demonstrably failed at that I’m encouraging bad habits, and weakening your discipline. But that is not the case!”
Rakla used both hands to push up the corners of his mouth, giving himself a ridiculous grin.
“The ability to inspire others, to lead others, to get them to do what you want, is an ability that the Big Strong Sect treasures just as much as it does any fighting technique. Bunko may have only stood for two demonstrations on his own, its true, but the rest of you were able to witness all three, which makes his efforts a success in my eyes!”
Rakla gave a bow of his own to Bunko, who reciprocated immediately.
“Bunko,” said Rakla, drawing the name out, “The answer to your question…is ‘No’.”
Yenx had seen that one coming a mile or two away, but Bunko clearly hadn’t, as his crestfallen, pained face made obvious.
“Now get sparring everyone,” said the Guilder, “Pair off and fight for a half hour, then switch partners and rings, and go again. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
Yenx cursed inwardly as at least three of his fellow Aspirants called his name in challenge.