Mila didn’t come the next morning, and thr examination wasn’t quite what Dominant had expected. The robed man, whose name he learned was Garnold Alsin, simply attempted to scan him again but to no avail. Then he asked Dominant to cast several basic spells to confirm his theory of Dominant’s condition. He observed the flow of mana and declared himself correct.
He went into some explanation about mana veins and connections between the soul and the physical body, but none of it made sense to Dominant, so he didn’t really listen.
After the examination, Magistrate Sandra appeared to take him out to the courtyard, where he was to begin his new lessons. Talent was already there, although he was practicing with Darren instead of a magistrate. The man seemed to have no issue with Talent’s magic and he was demonstrating more skill than Dominant could have imagined.
The two spared using a combination of martial skill and magic. Daren seemed to have the upper hand with his bullet trick. Dozens of bullets floated around them each moving at a different speed and accelerating sharply When Talent crossed in front of one. Some even moved in reverse to strike the young lord.
Dominant was sure he would lose in a fight against Daren, if the magistrate had not held back fatal blows or stopped his bullets from piercing through Talent, he was certain Talent would have lost already.
Sandra led him to the other side of the courtyard, away from Talent and Daren, and asked, “Have you ever thrown a punch before?” Dominant nodded and said, “I’ve been in a few fights.”
Sandra nodded and asked, “Do you think you could hit me?”
Dominant considered it. He’d never seen Sandra fight, but he had whitenessed Mikala and now Daren fight. Both were leagues beyond his level and magistrate Sandra seemed like a sort of leader to them. He shook his head. “Probably not.”
Sandra smiled and said, “Then, why don’t we go over some basic fighting stances? I can teach you a few moves so you will be able to defend yourself if necessary.”
Dominant nodded and she began to demonstrate. He tried to follow her movements, but he felt awkward. His muscles weren’t used to the movements, and he felt uncoordinated. She watched him struggle, then said, “You’re doing it all wrong. Your back foot should be here, in line with your back, but your front foot should be pointed forward, your weight should be on your back leg.”
Dominant tried to follow her instructions, but it felt strange to him. “Okay, I think that’s right,” he finally said, after trying a few times and failing each time.
“Now, when you punch, use your hips, not just your arm. Your fist should strike with a snap, like this.”
She demonstrated, punching at the air. Her movements were fluid and fast. Dominant even heard the wind whistle around her arm. He could see the power behind her strikes. It looked effortless and natural. Dominant tried to imitate her, but his movements were stiff and jerky. She shook her head. “No, no, you are not using your hips at all, and you are not extending through the strike. You are throwing your shoulder, not your fist. You can’t just use brute force, it has to be a fluid motion. The force should come from your whole body.”
She stepped back, giving him some space. Dominant tried again, focusing on using his whole body to move his arm. This time, he managed to get a little more force behind his punch.
Sandra nodded. “Good, now try again, this time, focus on extending your fist as you punch.” She didn’t look very impressed by his strike, but he appreciated the small praise. Dominant tried again, trying to extend his fist at the end of the strike. Sandra nodded. “Much better. Now, try to put more power into the strike.”
Domi nant did as she said, focusing on the power of his strike. He wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by that, but when he punched again, he felt the force of the impact travel through his whole body. She smiled and said, “Very good, much better.”
After about half an hour of practice, Dominant was starting to get the hang of it. He couldn’t punch like Sandra, but he was starting to feel like he was getting the basics down. She stopped him and said, “Alright, I think you’ve got the idea now. Let’s move on to the next thing.”
Sandra stepped up and grabbed Dominant’s arm. “It’s that you can throw a punch, but if you want to actually land a hit on a skilled opponent you need to know how to defend and dodge. You also need to be able to counter.”
Dominant nodded. “I get that, but I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do.”
She moved his arm up near his face and said, “This is a basic guard position. If you’re being attacked, you can block a punch by putting your arms in front of your face. But don’t just stand there and block, you have to attack and counter, too.”
The lesson continued for several hours with Sandra teaching him basic steps or positions that he had never seen before.They were simple and repetitive, but Dominant felt that they were effective. She explained the purpose of each step or position and he did his best to learn and remember.
Eventually, they took a short break for lunch, which was brought out to them. Talent and Daren both left for their meal, but Sandra stayed with him.
As they ate, Sandra continued the lesson, explaining the importance of footwork in combat and demonstrating how to properly step and move. She told him that he should always keep his balance, and that if he wanted to hit his opponent, he had to move in close.
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After lunch, Sandra continued teaching him basic combat. She taught him how to throw a proper hook, jab, and uppercut.By the end of the day, Dominant was sore, tired and sweaty, but unlike his shifts in the mine, he felt that he had learned a lot and his effort would bring him closer to his goal of independence. He was also feeling a bit better. The physical exertion was a nice distraction from everything else in his life. He didn’t have to think about Talent, Mila, or his condition.
Each day was more difficult than the last. Each new lesson built off the last, and each new skill was put to use immediately. At the end of each week, he spared once with magistrate Sandra, got his ass kicked then had to explain why he lost the fight. He learned quickly that “You have more training,” wasn’t a good enough answer. Sandra only accepted, “I was too slow.” or “You got me by surprise with that feint.” one time each, after that she insisted he had the skills and experience to anticipate and compensate for such things.
Sandra pushed him hard, but he was grateful for it. It was better to know how to defend himself than to be unprepared.
Each day, his skills grew, and each week, he was able to last a few seconds longer before being beaten. By the end of the fourth week, he could at least land a hit or two on Sandra, though it was rare.
After twelve weeks, things changed a bit.
Sandra no longer taught him steps or forms, instead she instructed him to practice what he’d learned on his own. He wasn’t sure what benefit there was to moving through basic forms by himself, but he did as she asked.
When lunch time came, she sent into the city. “Look for a place called Klutcher’s Meats. If you can bring back a bowl of dragon’s fire from there, I’ll consider your training done.”
He was confused but he thanked her and set off. He found the restaurant easily after asking around a bit. It was an old establishment near the center of the town, but it didn’t look out of place.
Even before he got close to the building he felt the steady pulse of a drumbeat. He could make out the sounds of rancorous screaming but he couldn’t tell what was being said. Judging by the noise he felt confident the place crowded which made him wonder if the food was any good. It must have been to draw in so many people.
He found his way in by following a group of men in blue tunics. They were talking and laughing, and didn’t seem to care about the noise inside. Dominant, however, found it difficult to endure. The loud music alone was enough to split his head in two. The smell was a mixture of sweat and stale beer, and the air was thick with smoke and the stink of unwashed bodies. Dominant felt claustrophobic. This was worse than being in the mine, he may as well have stuck his head in a sifter’s mouth and let it gnaw the life out of his skull.
He made his way through the crowd to the counter. A man behind it asked him what he wanted. Dominant ordered the dragon’s fire, and the man laughed.
Everyone near enough to hear him stopped what they were doing. A woman in hot pink athletic wear spat her drink over the bar as she burst into laughter. Two men who’d been chatting about the lady both turned to look Dominant over before sharing an amused grin.
A middle aged drunk with a scruffy beard and spiky hair half turned. He leaned closer and said, “You don’ jus’ wa’k in ‘ere of da streeeetsz…”
Dominant’s nose wrinkled at the smell of whiskey on his breath, but he didn’t turn away.
“…an’ order d’agon fir…fizer…fer-er… d’agon fire!” The drunkard said, his voice trailing off into laughter.
“Why not?” Dominant asked, his voice was loud, but it was still nearly drowned out by the music.
The drunkard looked at him, then back at the crowd of people who’d stopped to watch and were now laughing. Instead of answering, the drunk just laughed and nodded at the bartender.
The man behind the counter raised an eyebrow before looking at dominant again. “You sure kid? You don’t look like the usual type to—”
“Yea, I’m sure.” Dominant was starting to question it himself, but he didn’t understand what there was to be afraid of. It was just some dish, right?
The music stopped. The menu faded away and in its place a list of names appeared. There were fifty in all, and next to each one, a number. Dominant’s eyes were drawn to the number one slot. The name that appeared there was Ardnas.
“Ain’ no one got da fizer sinze Hard-azz,” the drunk said, his breath was still awful, but he seemed more lucid and Dominant understood him better this time. “If’n ya get it, I’ll buy ya da finest legz in Kasta…Kassyn…finest legz der be.”
The music started up again, but this time it was a heavier beat with a sound like metal and blood. Dominant felt a twinge of doubt. What the hell had he gotten himself into? But he had already come this far and he wasn’t going to let them see his doubts. “I can do it,” he said, mustering as much confidence as he could.
The bartender smiled. “What’s your name kid?”
Dominant hesitated for a moment, then he said, “I’m Dominant Kastin, from—.”
The crowd erupted into a cacophony of laughter and jeering. “Liar!”
“No way you’re a judge!”
“Why would a Kastin come here?”
Dominant ignored them, but his cheeks burned with embarrassment. The bartender didn’t seem convinced either, but he didn’t argue. “Alright, Dominant, I’ll put your order in. I’m sure it’ll be just a few minutes to get your beating.”
Dominant wasn’t sure if he meant the food or something worse. The drunkard laughed, slapped the counter and said, “I’ll be a’ere if you live. You can get your legz from me then.”
Almost as soon as Dominant’s name appeared on the board a red dot showed up next to it. Another name flashed, the person in the forty-sixth spot, Sandy.
With a chagrined expression, he said, “You’ll be going against Sandy. She’s not the worst of the bunch, but she’ll give you a good run for your money. Oh, an’ just in case you weren’t lying’, using rulings is strictly forbidden during the fights. Here, skill is the only law.”
Dominant wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew he had to do this. He’d already made up his mind. As long as he didn’t die, he’d be able to handle whatever came next.
“Lead him to the ring!” Rang out all over the room. The crowd started chanting and clapping in rhythm. “Lead him to the ring! Lead him to the ring!”
The door behind the counter opened and the bartender gestured for Dominant to follow him in.
He led him to a small room with a single chair and a small table. “You have ten minutes to prepare. If you don’t come out on your own, you’ll lose by default and you won’t be able to challenge again.”
Dominant nodded and took a seat. He wasn’t sure what to do. He was a bit sore from training with Sandra, but other than that, he was fine. He had never prepared before any of his matches with Sandra, he wondered if it was necessary now.
The door he entered through was locked. There was another door with a light above it, but the light was red and it was locked too. He guessed that meant he had to wait still. He sat there in silence, waiting for the time to pass, trying not to psyche himself out with questions and self doubt.
When the light above the door flashed green, Dominant froze. He had no idea what was going to be on the other side, but he knew he had to go through with it.
He stood up and walked to the door. With a deep breath, he reached for the knob and pulled it open.