(Ivan)

“It’s official,” Toby announced. “I no longer like your brother. The Bench Wars was meant to hone strength and balance. How does pushing against a rotten tree accomplish that? Using tree-form is shady.”

“Well, William does have a talent for bending the rules.” Ivan shrugged. “In any case, we need to figure out how to counter their advantage.”

“Bah!” Toby waved his hand. “How do you counter a giant tree?”

They had just arrived in the Arms Hall, which was located on the top floor of the school. The ceiling was lined with circular sky-windows. In the middle of the hall, the Scaran coat of arms was burned into the wooden floor. The walls were lined with thick tapestries depicting battle scenes, but Ivan’s attention was captivated by the vast display of armaments. Dozens of wooden racks were stacked with weapons and armor. His gaze moved down the line. He saw swords, daggers, spears, axes, bludgeons, maces, hatchets, scythes, and other weaponry that he could not even name.

“Though archery is a far superior discipline,” Toby declared, “I must admit that this room is impressive. If it stabs, spears, slashes, or smashes, you can find it here.”

Some of the students had already put on their Vests of Protection and were sparring. Ivan did not get a chance to examine some of the more interesting weapons before Rob Stone entered the hall.

“Line up!” Bay Valks bellowed.

It looked like Bay had been assigned as an assistant to help during the class. The students quickly lined up and Ivan followed Toby’s lead.

“If you don’t have your Vest of Protection and a sword, you need to get them now,” Rob announced. “We’ll start today’s class by reviewing the basics of disarming, strike zones, and footwork. I need a volunteer.” Rob pointed to a tall boy in the front line. “You there, thanks for volunteering. You must be one of the new students from Pike.”

“Yes, Lord Commander! My name is Baxter Slake. My family arrived here just last week.” The boy stepped forward.

“Very well. Everyone, pay close attention.” Rob’s voice carried throughout the hall. “Baxter, come at me when you are ready.”

The boy did not need any further encouragement. He lunged forward with surprising speed. Rob was even faster. He parried and executed a swift hooking motion, disarming Baxter.

“Your lunge was solid, but you overextended. You need to keep a firm grip on your sword. Your weapon is your life.”

Baxter nodded and picked up the fallen sword.

“We’ll do more disarming practice toward the end of class. For now, let’s review the different defensive and offensive zones. Who can name all the zones?” A couple of the students raised their hands. “You!” Rob pointed toward Toby, who had not raised his hand.

“Uhh, the opponent’s body is divided into four zones,” Toby recited in a monotone. “The spine and the waistline are used as the crossline division for each quadrant.”

“Very good,” Rob said approvingly. “Together, these two divisions create the four openings.”

Rob demonstrated the different thrusts and slashes that could be used when attacking each zone and how to counter them. He instructed the students to pay close attention to the proper footwork.

After Rob finished with the review, the students paired off. The assigned practice included a series of underhand thrusts, overhand thrusts, sidestepping, blocking, and parrying. They practiced the basics for about an hour and then switched to more complex skills that required combination techniques.

“I’m not very good with the sword.” Toby sounded apologetic. He had been paired with Ivan for the practice. “The fault for that is naturally mine. I really need to practice with the sword more. It’s just that the sword feels like an antiquated and clunky weapon compared to the bow. Why wait for your opponent to come so close when you can kill him from a safe distance a hundred yards away or so?”

“What happens when you run out of arrows?” asked Ivan as he parried Toby’s overhand thrust. The boys circled each other.

“Hah, by the time I run out of arrows all of my enemies will be dead.” Toby slashed at Ivan. “You should see the size of the arrow supply depot here. I bet they have over a million arrows.” After a moment he added, “Though I do have to concede that you have a valid point, but I still stand by my statement. Archery is superior!”

“Maybe we can help each other,” Ivan said while dodging a stab. “You can give me pointers on my bow skills, and I’ll help you with the blade.” Ivan’s counterattack scored a grazing blow.

“That’s a deal,” Toby agreed and sprang forward. His momentum carried him past Ivan, who sidestepped the attack. Toby groaned as Ivan stabbed him below the ribcage. The Vest of Protection absorbed the lethal blow by converting its momentum into weight.

Ivan was impressed by the magic used in the VOP (Vest of Protection). It allowed a fighter to unleash his full repertoire, without being concerned about maiming or killing his opponent. It had a versatile enchant. It was used at the Pike sword tournament and even during the Spirit Competition. It created a full body shield. It did have its limitations. The VOP was impractical during a battle, where a single volley of arrows would transform the entire frontline into human sandbags and slow the advance. In comparison, traditional armor and shield provided sufficient protection. Even if you wanted to outfit an army with VOPs, it was a limited enchanted item.

“Ugh, I need to replace my vest,” Toby groaned. “It’s getting too heavy. Man, you hit like a battering ram. Get over here and help me get this thing off.”

“Sure.” Ivan bent down and started undoing the shoulder straps, while Toby worked on the side straps.

“Hey Toby, I’ve seen attendants in Pike using an enchanted rod to reset the VOPs between fights. Do you know anything about those rods?”

“Oh yeah, those are nullifying rods. They’re another enchanted gimmick from the Evergreen Realm. Those Evergreeners make a killing on enchanted items. They summon hundreds of Sprites in their ritual factories. The poor flappers are forced to enchant threads for hours before they’re dismissed.”

“A ritual factory? I’ve never heard of that.”

“Gah, I wish I’d never heard of them,” Toby groused. “My sister talks my ear off about them. She is obsessed with Sprites and their magic. She yammers about enchanted items with Lin all the time. Lin is just as obsessed as Claire is, maybe even more. Neither one of them likes the way Sprites are treated by the Evergreen Realm. They even formed a SASS group with some of the other girls from school.”

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Sass?” Ivan looked perplexed.

Toby laughed. “It stands for Sisterhood Against Summoning Sprites.” He rolled his eyes. “In their opinion, the poor Sprites are exploited by the enchantment industry. They have meetings every week. Lin collects enchanted objects, so one day she can return them to the Sprites.”

The boys lifted the weighted vest together and headed to get a replacement.

“How did Scar get so many VOPs?” asked Ivan. “They’re rare in Pike, I’ve only seen a handful of them. I thought the Evergreen Realm was conservative on trading any military-related enchanted items.”

“Yeah, I hear you. But you’ve got to remember that Scar has valuable exports and a long-standing trade agreement with the Evergreen Realm. Scar imports enchanted items and exports sunstones, food, and rare minerals. It’s all about having the right goods to trade.” Toby continued to outline different trade agreements and the shipping syndicates that his house had dealt with.

“You sure know a lot about trade.” Ivan was impressed by Toby’s wealth of knowledge in the field.

“Oh, trade is in the blood of the Mirens. Before the war, most shipments between the Evergreen Realm and Scar came through our docks, not Calot’s. Mir was the central commerce hub of the entire kingdom, and we had the largest merchant fleet. We’ve got the fastest ships that traverse the Ocean of Tears! Our squid-racers use the latest enchanted propulsion drives. We may not have the largest ships, but as I said we’ve got the fastest ones.” Toby nodded.

“Still, the Evergreen Realms’ leviathans dominate any harbor. Those ships are so big that special docks must be built just for them. Calot only has one leviathan dock in their harbor, but Mir has three.”

They continued with training for the next hour. Rob provided practical examples of how different techniques could be used. They were given short breaks throughout the class. This allowed Ivan to ask more questions about Mir. Toby was eager to talk about his home.

Halfway through class, Ivan had a chance to duel several other students. This training was not as intensive as his personal regiment, but it was a good addition to his daily workout.

“Line up!” Bay shouted. Everyone hustled to one side of the classroom.

“Tomorrow, we’ll work on proper deflection,” Rob said. “There are only a handful of Giant Steel blades in the Nature Kingdom. The owners of those blades will never have to worry about their swords chipping or breaking. The rest of you, on the other hand, need to pay attention to your blade’s position when you’re blocking. We’ll take a break and continue in fifteen minutes.” Rob gestured to one of the students to follow him and stepped outside of the training hall.

Baxter Slake ran up to Ivan as he and Toby lined up for water.

“Hey, I know you,” Baxter said excitedly. “You’re the Snowstorm. I’ve watched all your fights in the sword tournament. You’re amazing!” he gushed. “I can’t believe I’m talking to Pike’s reigning sword champion.”

Before Ivan could reply, Bay Valks and his cronies burst out laughing.

“Ha, did you hear that?” One of them sneered.

“Look at me!” One of the other boys swaggered with his hands on his hips. “I’m the sword champion of some backwater hamlet.” The group guffawed.

“The only official sword fighting championship in the Nature Kingdom occurs in the Arena of War in my home of Resan,” said Bay Valks. He sauntered toward them, flanked by his posse. “The little gathering in Pike, that you called a tournament, is really just a simple game for the local farmers and peasants. Calling him the champion is like calling a local tavern’s cook the king’s chef.” There were more howls of laughter. A crowd formed around the boys.

“I don’t think Bay knows that Slovan’s chef borrows recipes from Gina,” Toby whispered to Ivan. Ivan cleared his throat to cover up his amusement.

“So, tell me, when was the last time the Arena of War was held in Resan?” Baxter countered, looking pointedly at Bay. “Oh, right, you were probably still wetting your bed.” The Pike locals roared.

“You’re obviously misinformed,” said Baxter, “so let me enlighten you. All the best swordfighters in the Nature Kingdom have been competing in Pike’s Championship for the last decade.”

“Hah! None of the Resan’s sword masters, myself included, would bother competing in a rathole like Pike,” Bay spat. “You can’t have a real contest without proper representation of the Valkian sword fighting style.”

Baxter waved his hand dismissively. “It doesn’t matter what style you use, you’re gonna lose.” He pointed to Ivan. “He’s the reigning champ.”

“You do a lot of talking,” Bay sneered. “I wonder if the… what did you call him… oh, yeah, the Snowflake.” He looked at his friends and rolled his eyes. “Can the Flake back up your bluster?”

“I’ve seen him fight and I’ve seen you fight. I’m telling you that the Snowstorm can best you right here, right now!” Baxter clapped Ivan on the shoulder. “Though I’m not sure you’re worth his time.”

All eyes shifted toward Ivan. Since his altercation with Bay this morning, Ivan knew that it was just a matter of time before they clashed again, but he had not expected the other boy to make it so public or so soon. Bay’s behavior revealed a possible weakness. He was overconfident and impulsive. Ivan did not appreciate Baxter’s involvement in escalating the conflict, but it might be for the best.

I should’ve handled things better after our initial altercation, he mused. But it’s too late now.

“I never shy away from a friendly duel.” Ivan stepped forward. His knowledge of the Valkian style was limited to some of the basics. Thrusts in that style were frowned upon. The defensive and offensive zones were broken down differently. The head and neck were the primary attack targets.

“Duels by nature, are not friendly.” Bay replied and drew his sword.

The crowd around them backed away. The spectators cheered and jeered. Toby, as the unofficial dicer in the class, was busy taking bets for the outcome of the fight.

Ivan inclined his head in a gesture of respect following the traditional dueling custom. Bay shot him a derisive look and leaped forward with a fast strike. Ivan used the open space to dodge the initial flurry. His eyes followed Bay’s every movement. He switched between the Bear Paw and Wind Guardian defensive techniques as he continued to study the offensive style of his opponent. Bay used an aggressive variation of the Sparrow Flock. Ivan switched to the Dragon Sword maneuver on a few occasions to discourage Bay from becoming overly aggressive.

As the fight progressed, Bay’s features darkened. He switched styles. Ivan had never seen Bay’s new technique. It reminded him of a blend between the Flying Leaf and the Coiled Snake. The overhead chops were followed by feigned attacks.

Ivan dodged and parried the onslaught. Bay attacked relentlessly. The other students roared with approval and more bets were placed with Toby.

(Rob Stone)

With so much commotion, nobody noticed when Rob returned. He watched the duel from the back of the hall. As remarkable as Bay’s offensive skills were, Ivan demonstrated exceptional defensive abilities and superb reflexes. With arms crossed, Rob watched the fight intently as the dynamics changed. Ivan, who had been on the receiving end, became the aggressor.

Rob was stunned. Ivan attacked, mimicking the complicated sequence of moves that Bay had just used against him. It was one of the advanced Valkian techniques taught only to Resan’s high nobles. Rob had rarely seen anyone pick up a fighting style that fast.

How can someone with no formal training, who lived in relative isolation, be so talented?

Ivan’s opponent was no pushover. Bay could hold his own against some of Rob’s seasoned commanders.

Bay missed a block and received a jarring hit across the chest. The weight of his vest sent him tumbling onto the wooden floor. Ivan lowered his sword, while Bay’s friends jumped in to help him out of the vest.

Rob watched, patiently waiting. He had learned that judging people in defeat was just as important as judging them in victory. Fighting skills were demanded of all his troops, but only those who showed great character became his future commanders.

Bay stood up, turned toward Ivan, and gave him a look of grudging respect. He lowered his head ever-so-slightly in acknowledgment. Ivan returned the gesture. Bay walked away amidst the roar of the gathered students. Rob nodded to himself.

“What a fight! You’re even faster than I remember,” Baxter declared. “I mean, you were already impossibly fast as it was –”

“Snowstorm… Snowstorm… Snowstorm!” the class chanted, muffling the rest of Baxter’s comment. Some of the students tried to get closer to Ivan to congratulate him. Others settled their bets with Toby. Only the Pike locals appeared to have bet on Ivan.

“There is no gambling in my class.” Rob’s voice startled several of the students gathered around Toby and sent them scurrying back to their spots in the lineup. Toby scrambled to stash the coins into his enchanted pocket.

Rob mentioned nothing about the duel. He spent the remainder of the class on disarming maneuvers.

“Make sure that you put your swords and vests back where they belong,” Rob instructed them at the end of the class. “We’ll resume training tomorrow at the same time.”

(Predatory eyes)

High above the Arms Hall, a pair of russet eyes watched Ivan’s every move.