Alice set down her fork as everyone’s attention fell on her. She was seated on the other side of the table from Aaron. Although not directly across from him, his stomach still lurched as she gave the corners of her mouth a dainty dab with a napkin.
I really need to figure out how to not get absolutely hammered by her glamour, Aaron thought, suppressing a frown. I hate the feeling of something influencing me and I don’t want to wind up resenting her for something that’s not really under her control.
Unfortunately, that didn’t look like something he was going to have an easy time achieving and there was no chance of resolving it this morning. Alice’s dazzling green eyes met his as she began to speak and he almost didn’t hear her question.
“Did you sleep well?”
After a moment, Aaron’s brain processed what his ears had heard through the emerald fog of her gaze. He jammed a forkful of French toast into his mouth to cover for his delay and nodded.
“I’m glad,” she said. “As far as I can tell, there were no hostile magics directed at Aaron in his sleep. We’re not out of the woods — especially since we know someone recovered The Sleeping Dragon Tuesday night — but it suggests we don’t have to adjust our current plans.”
“How confident are you that there wasn’t an attack?” one of the military types asked.
Alice bit her lip. “If I were basing it solely on what I currently know of oneiromancy and the Dream, I’d say I have ninety percent confidence. I think that would be presumptuous to the point of arrogance, though, since it’s an overlooked branch of magic, at least in more traditional circles. Still, I’d go with seventy five to eighty percent.”
“Would you be willing to explain your reasoning?” one of the logistics nerds asked.
“Of course. The Dream — for an oneiromancer who has sent their consciousness there — is often perceived as something like the night sky, a vast darkness dotted with points of light. These lights have many different names — ignis fatuus, chimera, phantasms, and so on — but the important thing to know here is that some of them are representations of the sleeping minds of people.
“These individual minds are hidden among this astral void and their placement roughly aligns with their physical body in the waking world. That’s important. If an oneiromancer knows where both their body and their target’s lay, it makes navigating to them easier. Even more so if those two sleeping bodies are close to each other. Does- does all that make sense so far?”
There were nods from around the table, then Alice went on with a nervous smile.
“Because of how the Dream is perceived and how it relates to the physical world, I was able to position myself in such a way that I could see Aaron’s presence in the Dream and a good deal of space around it. In theory, any magic targeting him would have had to travel through that space, where I could have detected it.”
Several of the people around the table had questions about that, but Tia held up a hand to forestall them and motioned for Alice to continue. The redhead gave the younger woman a grateful nod and continued her explanation.
“It’s possible such an attack could be concealed, of course, but in this case I don’t think it’s likely. There are several reasons for that. We know The Sleeping Dragon contained spells that could be used in the search for a Primus and we also know it’s very likely Aaron possesses some innate way to limit or counter them. I’ve visited him in his dreams and I can tell you there are at least two things I’ve personally witnessed that could be the manifestation of that protection. On top of that, I think we’re all aware he’s the first Primus candidate that almost no drakus has had any prophetic dreams about, right?”
Another round of nods from the table.
“Yet in spite of that, at least two assassins were able to track him down in California,” she continued. “One found him within twenty four hours of the first attempt failing. So there was still some unknown way our enemies were tracking him at that point. After his Emergence, however, it seems whatever protections he had improved. We can be confident of that because no assassins have targeted him specifically since, but also because of the reactions around it. Not only did the magi in the City begin utilizing divination in a haphazard — and frankly reckless — way, but someone also went and stole The Sleeping Dragon the very same night of Aaron’s Emergence.”
“There’s, like, zero chance that was a coincidence,” Tia snorted.
Alice smiled at Tia and continued. “On top of all that, I’ve personally seen that Aaron’s protections have changed since I last saw them, which was the day before his Emergence. For instance, he was better hidden among the phantasms of the Dream; enough so that I had trouble pinpointing his location even though I was less than fifty feet away from him. I’m pretty sure the other protections were more formidable, too, though it would have been impolite to test that.”
“That’s why you think an attack didn’t slip past you?” one of the suits inquired.
“Use your head, numb nuts,” Tia said. “She shouldn’t have to spell everything out for you.”
Aaron swept a look around the table and was glad to see his face wasn’t the only one where confusion was writ large. He was putting all this information together and he felt like he could get to the same conclusion Alice and Tia had, but Tia thought a good deal faster than most people and likely had access to most of this information already.
“It’s okay, Tia,” Alice said sheepishly. “I guess I sort of left off the conclusion statement. Basically, since The Sleeping Dragon was stolen the night of Aaron’s Emergence, we think that someone had been tracking him through other means and stole the grimoire because that method stopped working. It seems highly unlikely that one day would be enough time for the thief to master its secrets to the point they could perform a tracking spell that could overcome Aaron’s potentially unique protections and conceal it effectively.”
Alice’s reasoning satisfied most of the questions around the table, enough to be getting on with anyways. She received a round of thanks for her efforts and explanation, which she accepted with demure silence.
“We better get moving,” Kiara said, checking her phone. “Otherwise we’ll be late for our first day training with Shinobi Sensei.”
She put two scoops of sardonic emphasis on the last two words. A series of groans, chuckles, and eyerolls answered her from those seated around the table.
Aaron said goodbye to Alice, Tia, and all the security people, wrapping a handful of bacon in some napkins on the way out. He again felt bad that he probably wouldn’t be able to remember most of their names without a few more meetings, but then they were downstairs, in the car, and on their way to the Drakon’s creepy concrete monolith.
The trip to the Long Lines Building was quick enough, thanks to the Byways, but they were still on the razor-thin margin of tardiness for Aaron’s first ten o’clock weapons training session.
They had barely stepped into the armory when a voice sneered, “You’re late.”
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Turning, they found Greg Masters standing behind them. He was clad in an eastern-themed ensemble that still somehow closely matched what he’d been wearing when they first met.
The leather trench coat had been replaced by a kimono jacket made of black silk. Sakura trees and various animals were embroidered into the fabric with white and gold thread. He also wore loose black pants tucked into tabi boots with a divided toe and bloused near the calf. Rather than a fedora, Masters had donned a broad, flat conical hat made of woven wicker or bamboo, likewise dyed black.
Masters also held a long wooden training sword at his waist. It wasn’t like the solid wasters Aaron had been shown on his last visit, but he recognized it nonetheless. It was one of the practice swords used in kendo, made of long, thin bamboo slats that were bound at several different points along its length. It was not a bokken, which was solid, but Aaron couldn’t remember the proper name for it.
He had always thought of them as ‘kendo clackers,’ because of the sound they made on impact.
Kiara took a step forward and opened her mouth to speak, but Masters held out his free hand to stop her. He couldn’t stop Albert, though, who had doubled over with laughter.
“I will only hear your excuses from my student,” Masters said severely. “And I insist on being addressed as sensei for the duration of your training.”
Aaron bit down on the response that immediately sprang to mind. He needed to consider what he wanted to say. This seemed like the kind of issue that needed enough delicacy that it would have best been served by literally anyone other than Aaron answering it. The buck, however, stopped with him, as the saying went, so he had to muddle through it and hope for the best.
That consideration also gave Albert the chance to catch his breath and share his own thoughts. “Man, with you dressed like that we are for sure going to get sued by the ACLU or Funimation or something.”
Masters scowled at the smaller man but kept his silence, focused entirely on Aaron.
It wasn’t that Aaron didn’t have thoughts aplenty about what to say or a pile of rationales for any of it. His mind worked fast enough that ideas were rarely in short supply. The problem was that he needed to weed through all of those different ideas — some of which were so calamitously bad they were sure to start an argument — and then find a way to say them that further minimized the chance of anyone getting pissed.
That was the hard part, not least of all because Aaron didn’t often particularly give a shit if people got upset. It was something he needed a little time to work through.
Thinking back to the conversation he’d had with his security detail that morning helped him make up his mind on what he wanted to say and it gave him a reason to say it. He’d already disagreed with Barrett over maintaining some kind of air of superiority with distance, but this felt different and he thought he could put it into words well enough to pass muster.
“The morning security briefing ran a little long,” Aaron said. “That’s the reason we’re late, but I’m not offering it up as an excuse. I got here late and it doesn’t really matter why or by how little.” He took a pause to breathe before the next part, which went against his instincts even more than the first. “I won’t be calling you sensei, however. That would make me uncomfortable for a number of reasons. Neither of us are Japanese, for one, but the context of that term as I understand it also suggests a power dynamic in the relationship that I cannot allow. Not as the future Primus Draconis. I’d be glad to call you ‘teacher’ or ‘instructor’ during our training, though, as a sign of gratitude and respect for your expertise and time.”
Masters considered Aaron for a long moment. The delvers were clearly waiting to see how he would react; even Albert had mostly settled himself down to watch quietly. After a few seconds, Masters nodded his head sharply once, then bowed at the waist, his back straight as a board.
“You are right, please accept my apologies,” he said. “Instructor Masters would be… It works for me. We can begin right away, if you’re ready.”
“I appreciate that, instructor Masters, but you don’t need to apologize. We’re just getting to know each other and I try to be as relaxed about things as I can.”
Albert raised a finger in question, then gestured at Masters. “Uhm, okay, but nobody’s going to say anything about that getup?”
“Not me,” Aaron replied with a shake of his head. “It might seem eccentric to you or I, but it’s pretty obvious it’s appreciation not appropriation. I wouldn’t have shit to say about a Japanese person wearing jeans and playing guitar in a rock band, either.”
“I guess,” Albert reluctantly conceded.
For the next two hours, Masters began training Aaron in how to use the kama. The idea behind using kama effectively in real combat was simple in premise but difficult to put into practice. There was a heavy emphasis on gaining control over an opponent’s tools — whether their weapon or body — then exploiting that control to attack.
After a surprisingly brief time spent drilling basic forms and positioning, most of what Aaron did was try to prevent Masters from hitting him with the training sword, which he learned was called a shinai. Naturally, this didn’t go very well for Aaron and he was routinely smacked with the rattling wooden ‘blade’ of the practice weapon. Clickety-clack!
Other than developing the proper form itself, Masters told him, the most important thing early in learning to master a weapon was developing a good sense of and reaction to attacks. The scythe-like form of the kama wasn’t well-suited to parrying or blocking straight on like most weapons, which made it tricky to use.
Instead of defending against an attack with a direct counter, the goal was to catch a weapon in the cradle formed where the handle and the base of the blade met. When done well, it gave you a significant amount of control over the enemy’s weapon, protected your hands, and opened avenues for a counter attack. The kama, when wielded well, was a riposte machine.
Aaron’s riposte machine was missing some gaskets, hoses, and plugs, but he was working on it.He’d made surprisingly good progress, thanks in large part to the improved capabilities and coordination of his post-Emergence body. Each time he improved noticeably, however, Masters would step up his own efforts. It was never enough to overwhelm him entirely — which Aaron was pretty sure the ultra-weeb was fully capable of, regardless of any other foibles — but it forced him to adapt to increasing challenges.
When the two hours were up, Aaron left the armory with the sound of the shinai’s slats echoing in his ears. Clickety-clack!
The rest of Aaron’s training for the day wasn’t nearly as fraught with dangers to his pride, though it was still productive.
He worked with Griffin on refreshing his muscle memory for basic techniques he’d learned in karate when he was younger. The goal was to get him to the point where he could maintain proper form and react without having to think about it, much as he was learning to with the kama. In this case, Aaron had the advantage of a more-developed foundation, so he wasn’t starting from scratch.
Griffin did suggest he had a more complicated training regime in mind for the future, but wanted to get the most bang for his buck since they were pressed for time before they went into the dungeon.
At the shooting range, Aaron found he was having less trouble reliably firing his wand, which was a welcome surprise. He still had the occasional hiccup, though, especially when he tried to switch from one mode of firing to another.
Visualizing his shots before he made them, as Kiara had taught him, was getting easier with practice, too, and he was confident that was the key to improving his skill with the wand. His accuracy and precision were already improving.
He was landing every shot at short range, even if his precision wasn’t anything you’d see in a movie. Out to fifty feet, Aaron was still only landing about nine out of ten shots, but his grouping was notably improved. At a hundred feet, he was floating between seven and eight shots landed for every ten attempts, but Kiara assured him that was a bit on the long side for a wand that wasn’t designed for more powerful, specialized attacks.
His afternoon ‘lab’ session with Masters went by in a flash. The weapon master opted to continue the drills they’d begun that morning instead of something more complicated. Getting a feel for the basic uses of the kama, he assured Aaron, was the best use of their time. All the more so given how little of it they had before Aaron would be venturing out into the wider world.
On their way out of the Dome, Aaron and the delvers had a brief conversation about what to do for his end of day ‘elective’ time. Albert wanted to get Aaron back on the treadmill and see what kind of stuff they could get him to run into or get run over by, but Griffin and Kiara had another idea.
“I think we should use the time to clue Aaron in on what we’ll be doing tomorrow,” Griffin argued.
“You mean the dungeon?” Aaron asked.
“Yes, and I agree with Griffin,” Kiara said, nodding. “Forewarned is forearmed. Let’s head back to the apartment; we can talk it over there.”