Beau was waiting for me and Al after lunch ended. The carriage was there with a long line of carriages waiting behind it. We climbed inside and Beau joined where he quickly thumped his fist against the roof. There was a slight lurch and the carriage began moving.
We drove up the winding mountain path for about twenty minutes when we pulled through a second portcullis, with a larger archway. It looked as though it had been carved out of the mountain and wasn't attached to the surrounding rock face at all. Past the gate, the vast expanse of levelled stone greeted us, with a few small structures scattered around. I squinted against the bright sunlight, trying to make out what these buildings were.
The carriage stopped a couple minutes later and Beau opened the door and ordered, “Out.”
Al and I didn’t look at each other as we exited the carriage.
I pulled my glasses out of my satchel and slid them onto my face, then looked around at the great expanse of the plateau. This was far more than I’d been able to see from the carriage even, and I wondered how the other students had reacted when they’d first set eyes on the flat, white plain. I breathed in deeply and coughed hard from the thinness of the air. After I caught my breath once more, I took a deep breath, but this one was much slower, as if breathing were a skill I needed to take up once again. There were close to a hundred unique scents on the air that were not there before—perfumes, colognes, cigars and cooking smoke, scents from the plants and animals we'd passed on the way to the plateau. All of it coming from the other students that milled about if I had to guess. Then a familiar scent reached my nose, and I held back a smile. It seemed my Handler was nearby.
“Martial Training, I’ll be back for you both,” Beau said, leaving the two of us to stare at the vista, then he turned sharply and climbed back aboard the carriage. It rolled away only to be replaced by another carriage dropping off more students. Just like that, we were left waiting with what I thought were other first year students.
None of them looked very prepared for martial training. They all wore thick coats and warm hats. Most of their boots were highly polished and looked stiff. If my Handler was the teacher for this class, and his training was as I thought it might be, they were all going to regret wearing such footwear and heavy coats. As it was, I was already stripping off my warm woollen outer layers, shoving it all into my magic satchel.
I was surprised when someone asked, “What are you doing?”
I turned to the voice with the accent I couldn’t place. It was a young deergirl, lanky and lithe. She looked the same as everyone else, wearing a thick coat and a hat, but with a crest on the right side of her chest.
“Getting ready for class,” I answered as I began to stretch.
She gave me a strange look. “Aren’t you cold?”
“I am freezing, comrade,” I answered, feeling the biting cold through my cotton shirt. “But this is Martial Training, no? I assume we will be made to do physical activities and the coat and hat will just get in the way. Tomorrow, I will have to see about wearing a sweater. I should have thought of that sooner.”
She now gave me an incredulous look. “You think . . . you think we’ll be expected to . . . exercise?”
I nodded, “Yes.”
“We’re nobles, we do not . . . exercise,” she stated haughtily.
Alphonse, who stood nearby, chuckled and shook his head as he started to take off his own coat.
I shrugged at the deergirl. “Then, comrade, you will prove weak, probably fail this course and be sent home at the end of the year.”
Now she seemed absolutely appalled. “They cannot do that. I am a noble of House Mizrahi. My father would burn this place to the ground.”
“Doubtful,” Alphonse chimed in as he pushed his coat and hat into a magic bag. “Too many political implications. Your father will more likely punish you for failing. No one, and I mean no one, messes with Bloken. You should know that as well as anyone if you are from a noble house.”
The girl looked dumbstruck then slightly panicked and began whispering in a language I didn’t recognize to one of her friends who’d been looking on, a liongirl with a different crest but similar style coat.
I looked around and saw a few others take notice of me and Al, and followed our lead. Shedding their coats and hats, I heard and smelled panic arise in many of the nobles. Had no one warned them? I would have thought that being from a noble house meant they would have more information than me.
There was a sudden order barked from a familiar voice, though with a Abbaion accent, “Warm up, two laps!”
I looked for a track but saw nothing and cursed my poor eyesight. Instead, I turned to Al and followed him to a path that had been cleared of most of the heavy snow.
Teacher’s voice barked out again, “What are you waiting for? I said two laps!”
I followed Al to a wide gravel path that seemed to have been cut into the ground, similar to what my master sometimes used at his home.
“Which way do we run?” Al asked loudly as he looked around for the voice that had given the order.
I didn’t think it mattered and started to run, Al following behind. I shook my head as I watched Al dash by, the wind pulling at his shirt as he raced forward. I knew he had no idea how long the track was, and that the thin air of the mountain would make it difficult to keep up that kind of pace. Despite this, other students were joining him in his sprint, trying to match or beat him. The professor had called it a warm-up, so I set my own pace, a steady jog, and focused on my breathing. I ignored the complaints and moans of those overdressed nobles, pushing myself to do my best.
As I continued around the track, I began passing those who had sprinted ahead of me earlier. They had exhausted themselves while I stayed focused on my pace, and although the thin air made it hard, I eventually managed to finish the first lap while many others had already collapsed.
As I pushed through to the second lap, not too far ahead of me, I saw Al starting to flag. He’d slowed down considerably and was starting to breathe heavily, almost panting. Then he stumbled and nearly fell. Still, I kept my pace. Slowly gaining on him. Twenty metres. Fifteen metres. Ten metres. Then I caught my Handler’s scent again. He was directly ahead of us, two hundred more metres. It was the finish line. It had to be.
At five metres from catching up to Al, I started running harder for the finish line. I knew I might regret it later, but beating Al now would do a lot to humble him.
As I passed Al, I forced a condescending chuckle and said, "The training in Rychania clearly surpasses whatever pitiful standards there are in your land, doesn't it, Comrade Alphonse?"
I heard a curse and grunt of effort from behind me and heard the dogboy trying to pick up his pace. He didn’t want to lose to me, and that was good. So, I ran harder. I sprinted for that finish line. I couldn’t let him beat me. I eventually saw my Handler’s outline. He stood tall with his arms crossed. It was an imposing stance, but I couldn’t read his body language from this distance to know if he was angry or happy. I imagined he was very displeased given the poor showing from the students.
I heard Al catching up behind me and pushed myself just a little harder.
My Handler’s face came into view. It was stern, definitely more on the angry side. And yet, I saw something in his face that said he was pleased. I hoped it meant he was pleased with me. It sparked me to dig deeper and push harder.
I ran past the professor and let go of the hard push, slowing down and breathing heavily. I smiled a little as Al came in just behind me. I beat him. I won. And then he puked all over my boots.
“Gross!” someone screamed nearby.
I nearly vomited myself after smelling the contents of Al’s lunch and probably some of his breakfast. Hard-boiled eggs did not smell appetising the second time around.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one that lost their lunch. Some due to being just as tired and overworked as Al and some in response to the puking.
“Well, looks like I have my work cut out for me,” my Handler’s voice boomed, amplified and projected. “I am Signore Barducci, your Martial Training and physical status instructor. My task is twofold. First, I am to see all of you gain a stable level of physical fitness. Second, I am to help you improve your fighting abilities.”
“For the fitness side of things, I hope to bring all of your physical stats up at least one rank before the end of the year. However, if this is really the best you have to offer, most of you won’t gain one rank in any of your statuses. Most of you failed class this afternoon. In fact, only five of you earned a passing mark for today.” He paused to look around then pointed at me, “You, name?”
I stood tall and straightened my clothes, “Burion Belov, pleased to meet you, Comrade Teacher Barducci.”
“You can call me Signore Barducci or sir,” he retorted then pointed to another student who was apparently smart enough to pace himself, “You.”
It was a lionman, tall and muscular, “Heinrich von Trussel, pleased to meet you, Signore Barducci.”
Signore Barducci repeated it three more times allowing a lionwoman named Wilhelmina von Trussel, a weaselman named Gustavo Gutierrez, and a rabbitman named Frank Smith to introduce themselves. I shouldn’t have been surprised when the wolfman made all five of us targets. “The rest of you are not yet worth knowing. The rest of you do not even know how to do a basic warmup run. Everyone, up, back on your feet. Get your breathing under control. Long slow breaths in and out. Get your heartrate under control, good.”
While he was coaching everyone on breathing, I was repeating in my head to start referring to my Handler by his cover. I needed to think of him that way, or I risked blowing his cover by accident, something that might be unrecoverable on this mission, especially with the dean looking for him.
Eventually, I felt satisfied that I wouldn’t slip and started looking around. I could see those close to me getting their breathing under control with Barducci’s instruction, but not everyone. Al leaned over with his hands on his knees, spitting at the ground and taking in great big heaving breaths of air, which was doing him no good. I wasn’t sure how to help him without seeming like I was helping him. Thankfully the instructor stepped in.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Come on, up, stand tall,” Barducci said, using a gentle hand to guide the dogboy upright. “Put your hands on your head and just focus on breathing. Breath into your diaphragm and exhale slowly. Slow steady breaths, there you go, good. Keep doing that.”
Signore Barducci moved on to the next student and the next after that. He didn’t get to everyone before the majority were back on their feet.
“Good, now, we’re going to do that run again. But you’re going to learn to pace yourselves. You’re going to learn how to breathe while you run. And you’re going to learn what it means to warm up properly. After that, we’ll do some stretching. Tomorrow, hopefully, you will come better prepared for this class. Dress appropriately. This warm up run and stretching will be a daily occurrence. Any questions before we learn to run properly?”
The wolfman ignored every hand that raised into the air, “Good, then follow me, we’ll go slow, just try to keep pace. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth. Count your steps on the breath in, you should take the same number of steps on the breath out.”
I really wished my Handler had been so helpful when he started to train me.
The second run ended, and the stretching began. It was apparent that some students had never stretched out before, so the professor took a bit longer to explain and guide everyone through them.
“Alright, enough of that,” Signore instructed. “Let’s move on to the martial section of today’s class. The goal is to help you develop your ability to fight, either unarmed or with a weapon. Ideally, you have all learned the best martial skill for you already, but I understand that some of you will have not. Luckily, the Dean will have informed you where your fighting talent really lies. So, time to break out. Ah, but one more note, regardless of your talent, whatever you work on today does not have to be what you work on tomorrow. Just understand, if you do not focus your training, you may fail to develop any of your fighting skills.”
The professor clapped his hands, “But enough about that. Close quarters fighters meet at shed one. Swords meet at shed two. Blunt weapons, shed three. Spears and staves, shed four. Shields, shed five. Archers, shed six.” No one moved until Teacher clapped sharply twice and yelled, “Move!”
Like the others, I ran for the closest of the sheds, looking for a marker that indicated which shed it was. I felt kind of stupid when I reached the first of the sheds and on the door of which was a large ‘1’ painted white, I just couldn’t see it from where I’d been standing during the professor’s instruction.
I waited patiently for anyone to join me. I started to get worried when just about everyone ran past until a small mousegirl joined me.
“H-h-hi,” she stuttered and then went silent as a bearman, turtleman, and raccoonman joined us. All three wore similar outfits that looked more like expensive sleep clothes.
As one, all three put their fists together, and bowed respectfully, then stood straight, and rested their hands behind their backs.
The turtleman stepped forward first, “Greetings. We are students from the Shao Kin temple. I am Lee Ma.” He motioned to his right where the raccoonman stood, “This is Chen Dao.” Then motioning to the bearman to the right he introduced the last of his group, “And this is Pong Ren.”
“Pleased to meet you comrades. I am Burion Belov,” I said, giving them a formal Rychanian bow.
The mousegirl looked nervous to introduce herself. Her stutter agreed. “L-l-l-lulu T-t-t-tidus.”
The three all bowed again then finally relaxed, losing some of the discipline I first saw from them.
Further conversation ended when Signore Barducci’s voice carried across the field of stone, “Inside the sheds you will find equipment related to your chosen martial skills. Wooden swords, maces, knives, shields and the like. You will also find padded clothing if you are afraid of gaining a few bruises. You have five minutes to collect what you need then let the martial training begin.”
If I understood what the professor was suggesting, it meant that a brawl was about to begin and I only had five minutes to arm and armour myself. I wanted to work on my Grappling seeing as my Knife Fighting was already at Intermediate rank. The skill required neither weapons nor armour.
Lulu nervously approached the shed, standing on her tiptoes to reach the doorknob. With a deep breath and a forceful push, she managed to get the door open just enough to squeeze through. She reappeared a few minutes later wearing an outfit of thick padding – chest plate, shin guards and a pair of reinforced gloves. In her hands she held two plain-looking wooden knives. As she weighed each weapon in her hands, her face seemed to transform – gaining a newfound intensity that unsettled me.
“No weapon, brother Burion?” Shao asked.
I shook my head. “Maybe next time, but for today, I’m good. Thank you for your concern, Comrade Lee.”
“First round!” Barducci bellowed loudly. “Ten minutes, starting now!”
I felt a searing pain at my jaw and it snapped shut as Lee’s foot connected with it. I crashed onto the ground, my vision blurring as I was flung back. I groaned and tried to sit up, my jaw throbbing. When my vision cleared, I saw that Pong and Shen were both down, while Lee Ma and Lulu were locked in a heated battle.
His movements were lightning fast but he was struggling to keep up with petite Lulu, who was spinning and twirling her daggers with incredible grace and speed. The turtleman grunted whenever her blades parried his strikes, and if they had been real knives rather than practise weapons she would have already won the fight.
I rubbed my jaw one more time and hopped to my feet. I’d made a bad showing of things thus far. I couldn’t let that continue. I crossed the distance between us quickly, earning a brief glance from the pair, but they basically ignored me as the two exchanged blows again. I didn’t like the feeling of being dismissed like that. It was time to take control of this fight.
I leapt at Lee, dodging a desperate swing from him as he tried to keep me away. His wild swing left his arm exposed, and I shot forward, catching his wrist and wrenching it painfully behind his back.
Lulu took advantage of the opening I created and slammed her fist into the side of Lee’s head, knocking him out cold.
I pushed Lee’s body in Lulu’s direction and she ducked underneath it, thinking she had an easy shot at me. I moved quickly, slipping around and under Lee’s body before slamming into her side. The force of my impact knocked the wind out of her, and she stumbled back, barely having time to register what had happened before I had her arm in a vice-like grip and I had ripped the wooden knife from her hand. When she quickly spun around with the other blade—probably hoping to catch me off guard—I was already there, blocking the attack with my forearm before driving my elbow into her sternum and taking her legs out from underneath her.
She hit the ground hard, groaning in pain. Before she could get back up again, I locked her arm in a submission hold, taking away her last weapon before transitioning to a chokehold. Her eyes fluttered closed shortly afterwards.
That was when Pong and Shen groaned, coming back from their own short naps.
I pushed Lulu’s limp body away and scrambled to my feet, my breath short and heavy. I raced the short distance towards Pong the bearman, the biggest of the two. He had a large frame, arms that were as thick as my torso, and his hands almost as large as my head. It made him an ungainly opponent. I leapt towards him, grabbing hold of him as best as I could, but he was too strong. He pried my arms and legs apart with ease and retaliated with a sharp slap that sent me to the ground, the impact ringing in my ears and sending pain radiating through my whole body. Everything went blurry before darkness consumed me.
When I came to, I found myself staring up into a milky white sky, my head pounding with dull pain. The smell of ammonia burned in my nostrils and I coughed, wishing away the fog that clouded my brain.
“Easy friend,” Pong said, his voice deep and strong. His large palm rested on my chest, holding me down. “Let the little vicious one patch you up.”
Little vicious one? It took me a moment to realise he meant Lulu. Little vicious one indeed.
Lulu smiled timidly at me as her hand glowed green and she touched my face. I instantly felt the swelling around my eyes subside. As it did, I took note of the bruise already forming on her neck where I rendered her unconscious. “I-I-I’ll be f-f-fine,’ she stuttered, seeing where I was looking.
I nodded. “Thank you, Comrade Lulu. Please, make sure you take care of your bruises as well.”
Lulu nodded and looked away nervously.
Lee wasn’t far away and sat quietly on the ground. He looked uninjured, and yet he also looked slightly upset.
“Lee is prideful,” Pong advised me. “He is used to always winning. I think this will be good for him in the long run. In the short term . . . well, try to block more next round.”
I nodded. “I think the best thing I can do is not get sucker punched for not paying more attention to my surroundings.”
Pong chuckled, “Yes, that is a good idea. Lee likes the mantra, strike first, strike hard. He prefers to end a fight quickly, surprising for a turtleman, I know.”
I nodded and rubbed at my jaw. Turtle-folk were well known for their curse, Slow. They were simply slow when compared to others. Their Dexterity operated one rank below their actual rank, so for Lee to be that fast, he might have an Excellent rating, but only function at Great, or possibly even lower.
Lulu seemed satisfied and moved away from me, which prompted Pong to remove his massive hand from my chest, allowing me to sit up again. I twisted a little and stretched before climbing back to my feet.
“Thank you, Comrade Lulu,” I said, giving her a small bow, making sure she saw my appreciation. It was good there was a healer in my fighting group or who knows when I would have gotten patched up.
Lulu squeaked nervously and moved quickly inside the shed where the green glow of her healing magic shone through the crack in the door. I assumed she just wanted some privacy to heal herself.
I looked around the training field to see how other areas were doing. Unfortunately, I could only see the swords group and they did not look good. Based on my limited vision, I believed they had the most students and the most injured. It was luck they were the largest group as there appeared to be a dozen healers wandering among the injured. I wondered how other groups did. Did each group have a healer? If there were any groups without a healer, what would happen to them? Would Signore Barducci send one of the healers over to treat them?
I never got an answer as the wolfman started speaking, and I hoped that meant everyone was conscious again. “When one of the kin is forced to struggle, to fight, that is when martial skills develop and grow. Without challenge, how can you ever expect to grow? The lowliest of street kids knows that just as well as the most powerful tyrant,” he paused to let that sink in. It was a humbling statement for many of the noble children. I just hoped the message really sank in. “Round two starts in five minutes. Prepare yourselves.”
I winced a little as I stretched. As good as Lulu’s healing was, she couldn’t get every spot that was injured. Then I put some distance between myself and the other four. I wasn’t going to get sucker punched again.
As promised, five minutes later, Barducci called a start to round two. I didn’t get sucker punched this time, but Lulu was ganged up on by the pyjama-wearing trio. They really shouldn’t have ignored me.
When the round ended, I had a new host of bumps and bruises, but at least I managed to finish the fight on my feet . . . barely. I couldn’t say the same for Chen, Lee, or Lulu. I was also sure if the round lasted even a minute longer then Pong would have put me down.
Pong woke the others with smelling salts, getting punched in the face by Lee for his troubles, but the bearman just ignored the hit. Though I did see him ask Lulu for healing afterward. Lulu patched everyone up but by the time she got to me, she looked utterly wiped out and still hadn’t healed herself. I asked her to patch up my ribs as they felt the worst of anything. I figured I could walk the rest off, including my twisted ankle.
“Good first class,” Signore Barducci announced. “As soon as everyone is patched up, you may leave. Anyone staying for Stamina class, please meet me on the track.” A statement followed by several loud groans.
I limped over to the waiting carriages. I was only slightly miffed to see Alphonse waiting . . . looking completely unharmed.
“You gonna live?” Al asked, showing a hint of concern.
I nodded. “I think so,” I started, then looked him up and down, “Did you run away the entire time?”
Al smirked, “Unlike you, I can heal myself.”
“So you did run away, what a good little healer you are,” I teased and winced as I felt pain in my side from moving a little too sharply.
Al narrowed his eyes and and his mouth curled into a sneer. His clenched fists trembled as he advanced on me, but the loud creak of a door opening behind us caused him to stop in his tracks. We both spun around to see Beau disembarking from the sleek black carriage, glossy with gold trim and drawn by two powerful horses.
The cattleman grunted, sounding annoyed, “I was hoping the Signore would have let you two fight it out already.” He paused to sigh, “Maybe next time. Get in, Romano. We’ll drop you off at the academy for your Intelligence status class. Then I’ll take you home, Belov.”
I nodded and climbed in first, my mind already spinning in spite of my physical exhaustion. Al was going to be gone. I was never going to have a better opportunity to snoop through his apartment.