“Achoo!” Gaius rubbed his nose. His fellow trainees glanced at him, somewhat pissed off, and then turned back to watch the on-going spar. Two young boys, both of them built similarly, were rolling on the ground, kicking up dust as they hit at whatever they could.
He was literally watching children fight. Seconds passed as the two of them continued to roll around, and one of them abruptly slowed down. Having sensed his weakness, the opponent redoubled his efforts.
The fight, if Gaius were to bring himself to call it that, ended a few seconds later. Instructor Aziz, watching from the side, bent over to assess the fatigued duo, and said, “As I’m sure everyone noticed, victory was decided the moment one of these boys here succumbed to fatigue. Remember, fighting isn’t just about causing pain. It’s about making your opponent unable to resist. Draining your enemy’s stamina is one way to do that. Now, for the last pair. Gaius and Jax, you’re up.”
Gaius got up and walked to the cleared-out space. Rolling around on the sandy ground didn’t seem particularly appealing to him, but his opponent surely had no such qualms. It was probably the benefit of being a street kid through and through — they didn’t mind dirt that much.
The other boy, Jax, bared his teeth as Gaius stared at him. An oddly familiar thrill ran up his spine. Squaring his shoulders, he placed his left foot forward, bending his right knee slightly.
“You may begin.”
In that instant, Jax rushed out with his arms open. Gaius, under the eyes of the small crowd, straightened his right knee, using the force from it to close the distance abruptly. Within a second, he was in range, and Gaius struck out with a vicious flurry of punches and elbow strikes. Jax staggered, and without missing a beat, Gaius swept his leg out, flooring his opponent. A few more stomps on Jax’s chest later, and the boy stopped moving.
Gaius removed his leg with an impassive expression, hiding the burning pain that had erupted in his shoulder joints as he stood there quietly. This body of his wasn’t able to punch out as quickly or as strongly as he would have liked it to, but it would have to do.
The silence lasted for another heartbeat, before the crowd broke out in cheers. Instructor Aziz once again went to assess Jax’s condition, and having found no lasting injuries — ego aside — turned to look at Gaius, who had taken his place back inside the crowd of children.
Now I’m convinced. This style of fighting is entirely alien to street fighting. Most likely, Gaius was from a Knight’s family. Him here, in a crowd of kids, does seem somewhat unfair. Coughing lightly to hide his amused expression, Instructor Aziz ran through a couple of suggestions in his mind, before saying, “This is a rather unique combat style, and I’m not sure if I am qualified to talk about it. What I can tell you, however, is that making your moves obvious to experienced fighters is a recipe for disaster."
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Instructor Aziz looked around at the crowd. “Now, if it isn’t obvious yet, what you guys call fighting is, by and large, descended from the art of grappling, which doesn’t allow for ways to instantly neutralise someone. But all that changes when you have a dagger too, which is why I’ll be teaching dagger techniques three days later. Look forward to it. As for now, we’ll have some lunch. Form up into three lines and follow me.”
The kids chattered as they followed Instructor Aziz, but none of them dared to approach Gaius as he silently contemplated. More aspects of his muscle memory — although he wasn’t sure if he could call it that, given that his current body shouldn’t have it — had returned, and in the course of the beatdown, an image had appeared in his mind.
Before he could reach out to it, it had vanished into the depths of his mind again. It was a rather frustrating event, and he was confident that if he wasn’t still in the middle of a fight, he might have remembered something. The results were rather unfortunate for Jax, as Gaius took his frustration out on him.
An aroma filled his nose as the crowd stopped at a large tent and formed lines in front of it, where a soldier was handing out plates of what seemed to be mashed potatoes and some vegetables. The queue dwindled rapidly and soon, it was Gaius’ turn.
“Ah, give this one some meat.”
The soldier serving out food blinked, before placing a palm-sized morsel of roasted meat on his plate. “Not bad, kid. Looks like you managed to impress the Instructor.”
Gaius took his plate. “Sounds like it’s hard to do.”
“You have no idea. Now then, move along.” The soldier smirked, and motioned for him to move.
Gaius grabbed a spoon and fork, before heading towards where the others were eating. The others gazed at him enviously as he approached, drawn by the alluring glint of roasted meat.
Ignoring the others, he speared it with his fork and placed it into his mouth. Unlike his appearance on the outside, his mind was focused inwards, onto the singular possibility that a new memory of his would return.
As the meat juices flowed into his mouth, a memory appeared — and Gaius caught it.
When he next opened his eyes, he was walking down a street, a chicken drumstick in hand. He looked at the signs around him, only to see them all blurred out. As the him within the memory bit off the last chunk of meat, he turned and entered a shop, tossing the bone onto the floor. The scene blurred, as though as he had done the actions of what followed so many times, that the memories had superimposed.
But Gaius couldn’t make out much. Just movement after movement. The walls and floor drenched red, like rose petals scattered all over, painted by a steely glint.
His recollection lasted for a few seconds. Before he knew it, his recollection had ended, and he was back within a crowd of children, chewing on roasted meat with an exaggerated relish.
But he now knew what he used to be on Earth. An assassin-for-hire, one that stalked the streets for a target. His lips curled slightly. An assassin training to be a guerrilla…I’ll enjoy this period of peace while I still can. I still have a younger…sister to raise, after all.