The Tournament (1)

A serene silence rested over the main field of the Institute. The chattering of faculty and children alike had long since died down. Looming white clouds engulfed the sky, ethereal wisps of white and grey blanketing the known world. The only evidence pointing to the fact it was now dawn was the subtle illumination from the slowly rising sun in the east. From the heavens far above, crystalline snow slowly drifted in lazy arcs down onto the Grisians below. Bonfires and campfires broke through the haze of the early winter morning, casting dancing shadows and an orange glow on the frozen dirt floor. The many candles surrounding the dueling grounds were finally lit, creating what seemed to be a sacred and uncrossable boundary that separated spectators from participants. Many Inductees and Instructors sat silently on the abundance of seating all around, motionless even with the chilling wind's bite. The seventy two participants all stood in formation within the candle perimeter, separated by the bisecting pathways of the hallowed dueling grounds. They all stood at parade rest, swords hanging by their belts with grim but determined expressions etched onto their faces. Their uniforms were pristine, their boots shined. Their jaws were set and eyes hard.

Conduit Horicus sat facing the many participants on a grand oak chair. His very presence oozed authority, his eyes surveying the quiet crowd. Everyone was now in position. He stood up and begun walking towards the front of his elevated stage. The people stared at him, willing him to begin the ceremony. Once he reached the stage's edge, he unsheathed his elion sword from his hip. He raised it high above his head, and then with all his might, he drove its tip into the stage below. The sound of splintering wood echoed through the open field, met only by a singular stomp of hundreds of boots. Conduit Horicus's eyes blazed against the darkn figure of the Rock behind him.

"Welcome, Inductees, workers, Instructors, Head Instructors, noblemen, and noblewomen to the 75th annual Tournament. Today, we test the grit and skills of our Inductees. The heart and spirit of our future protectors. Even today, the Nomal threaten the lives of our peoples and the prosperity of our cities. They raid, pillage, enslave, and rape our brethren."

He shifts his gaze towards the Inductees sitting on the sidelines, then to the participants standing silently ahead of him.

"You are the men and women who must fight this evil. You are the ones that carry the very flame of civilization within the palms of your hands. And it is your duty to protect it and pass it onto those who come after you. Never forget that."

Once more, he turned his gaze to the many spectators watching him with reserved eyes.

"I applaud all of the Inductees, workers, and Instructors that helped organize this year's Tournament. It had been a long year. Let this be a toast to a new one. A better one. To the participants of the Tournament, I wish you all the best of luck. And may Fa watch over you all."

The resulting thunderous cheering and applause from the crowd marked the beginning of the Tournament. The referees for the Tournament were the Head Instructors responsible for teaching swordsmanship between the six companies at the Institute. This included Sir Bradforth. They stood on the pathways, preparing to begin facilitating the duels. Four duels would occur simultaneously until there were only four finalists. From then on, the fences of the bisecting pathways would be removed to create on large arena for the participants. The duels would not be timed and new duels would not be allowed to begin until all four duels were finished. The only ways to end a duel were by surrender, getting knocked out, or the fight being stopped directly by the referees. A fight would only be stopped if they believed one participant had bested the other. The bracket for the Tournament had also been released in the early morning. Participants from the same companies were placed as far away from each other as possible on the bracket, this even more true for those for those of the same squadron. That meant Cain wouldn't have to meet Jorn or Eleni until much farther into the Tournament. If anything, that was a relief. He needed some warm up before he began hunting down the real monsters.

Those who weren't fighting exited the dueling grounds, moving to sit near their squadrons and Instructors. Instructors would give them advice and they would be able to cheer on their fellow squad mates. If they so desired. Eleni and Jorn both walked towards where the Red Squadron and Instructor Thorne were seated. Eleni gave Cain a nod of encouragement as she passed. His feet were planted firmly on the north eastern dueling ground, calmly waiting for his first opponent to approach. It wasn't long before a tall and lanky boy approached, stopping only a couple meters away from Cain's unmoving figure. The boy's back was hunched, his long limbs resting at his sides. In his eyes was a dangerous look.

Cain bowed to his opponent, the taller boy doing the same.

"I am Inductee Cain of the Third Company, Red Squadron. Let us have an honorable duel."

"Greetings, Inductee Cain. I am Inductee Marcus el Levrost of the Fifth Company, Blue Squadron. Let us have an honorable duel."

The other six participants similarly introduced themselves, unclipping their swords from their belts. They all tested the weight of their blades in their hands. Cain spun his, letting the familiar feeling of the wood brush against him palm and fingers. Him and Marcus both made their Prayers to Fa. Eight lonely figures were soon bathed in the familiar white glow of the Blessing. The participants patiently stood waiting for Sir Horicus's command.

"Participants, referees, are you ready?"

Those called on nodded. Then Conduit Horicus let a rare smile creep onto his face.

"Spectators, are you ready?!"

Those watching roared in response. Cain swore he could hear Horrow calling out his name. Cain slightly turned to see Horrow waving manically with Sasha by his side.

"Good! Now, let the 75th Tournament commence!"

Cain turned back to his opponent Marcus. They both fell into their stances, slightly bending their knees and raising their swords. Cain held his sword in both of his hands, raised directly in front of him. The edge of his blade was perpendicular to the flat of his body, his hips square, left foot ahead of his right. Marcus's stance was more bladed, his sword held in his lead hand, its raised point directed at Cain's torso. Both their Blessings gently flowed over their skin. They began pacing circularly, slowly inching forwards towards their opponents. The gap closed from five meters, to four, then three. That was when Marcus struck. He dashed forwards, body low to keep his feet connected to the ground, and lashed out with a salvo of thrusts. His reach was a lot longer than Cain initially thought. Marcus's sword threatened to take out Cain's eye with his first strike, missing only by a hair. Cain deflected the next three strikes expertly. A couple more and Marcus realized the futility of his attacks and attempted to step back and reevaluate his game plan. But of course, Cain wasn't going to give him the opportunity to think. Cain followed Marcus's retreat with implausible quickness, following with his own salvo of strikes. Marcus, not expecting the sudden charge, only managed to block two strikes before Cain's sword found purchase on the meat of Marcus's outer thigh. His Blessing absorbed enough of the impact for his leg not to go dead. He hissed while spinning on his back foot, exposing his back for a split second, before following through with a wide circular slash. The speed of the attack nearly caught Cain unaware, the boy just barely managing to raise his sword to block the attack. The momentum behind the swing transferred from Marcus's blade into Cain's, then down the wooden shaft into the bones of his hands and wrists. Cain winced while dodging a follow-up downwards thrust at his stomach. There was now space between them once again.

The entire exchange had only lasted ten seconds. Cain realized that he had begun fighting without a thought, muscle memory acting on his behalf. He chided himself for not approaching the fight with a concrete plan in mind. As they once again circled each other, Cain kept his mind clear. He knew that Marcus had a greater reach. Cain realized from their exchange that Marcus was a fighter that liked to dart in and out of engagement, using his sword like a lance to spear his opponents on the tip of his blade. His spinning strike also showed that he was no fool in close quarter combat either. Still, dogfights were what Cain excelled at. He would need to find a way to get close to the taller boy and use his superior strength and specific skillset to his advantage.

This time, Cain attacked first. He opened with a slash not at Marcus's body, but his sword. Cain wanted to test the boy's defense. Marcus simply lowered his sword to dodge underneath the blow, flowing into a low thrust to Cain's shins. Cain sidestepped and once again lashed out at Marcus's sword. This time, it worked. Marcus cursed under his breath as the collision sent his sword off center, their difference in strength coming into play. As Marcus begun to reposition his weapon, Cain once again struck at his opponent's blade. Again, again, again. Each time Cain took a small step towards his opponent, closing the gap. All his opponent could do was focus on keeping his sword in front of him to ward off his aggressor. As Marcus backpedaled, Cain followed, slowly winning ground. Marcus was getting nearer and nearer to the edge of the dueling ground. Cain was now looking for his opening.

Soon enough, Marcus was meters away from the fenced edge, no longer just cursing to himself. There were two things he could do to prevent being cornered. One was to circle away from Cain. Yet that was easier said than done. Cain had continued his barrage of strikes at Marcus's sword and now lead arm and leg, cutting off any opportunity to slip away or counterattack. The second option was to commit to an all out offensive against Cain. Unfortunately, Marcus was smart enough not to attempt the latter. He let his sword be bat away to the left on purpose. Instead of trying to reposition his weapon, he dodged in the same direction of his sword, turning his body to be completely perpendicular with Cain's. The momentum of Marcus's off-center blade helped pull himself to the side. He ate a grazing thrust to his chest while attempting to circle around Cain's right shoulder. But this was something Cain could take advantage of.

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With his sword too far out of position to chase after his opponent, Cain didn't bother trying to attack with his blade. Instead, he coiled his legs, charging them with energy. Then, his legs sprung forth, launching the thicker boy directly into Marcus. With Marcus directly in front of Cain's right shoulder, his balance near absent, Cain's shoulder precisely dug into Marcus's side. As Marcus's feet weren't grounded from his violent jump to the side, the impact lifted him a couple centimeters into the air. The boy grunted, his sword arm flattened between his own body and Cain's. Cain didn't stop, continuing to push him backwards all the way the edge of their dueling ground. The fence wasn't particularly tall, only rising just past Cain's waist. Their conjoined impact onto the fence shook the wooden barrier, Marcus just managing to find his feet to not flip completely over the edge. Instead, he found himself leaning almost entirely on the fence, his back supported only by the wooden rail. During their collision, Cain had raised his sword to strike at Marcus's exposed head. Somehow, the slippery fox had managed to create just enough space to raise his own sword to block the strike. Now their blades were locked, Cain's superior weight pressing against Marcus's bending body. Without proper leverage, Marcus's arms slowly began to give out under Cain's brawn. Marcus's face was now incredibly close to Cain's. Sweat rolled down Marcus's brow, his face contorted from exertion. His arms shook, veins popping from his neck. Slowly but surely, Marcus's own blade was being lowered, threatening to press against his turned head. A couple seconds passed, Marcus's sword now only hovering centimeters away from his left cheek. Cain was about to use Marcus's own Jian to open up his skull before their duel's referee called out to them.

"Enough! I declare Inductee Cain of the Third Company victor of the duel!"

Cain finally released the pressure on Marcus's bent figure. Marcus's legs gave out and he fell onto his ass, panting for breath. Cain took a couple steps back before he realized that he had unconsciously tuned out everything beyond his duel. Suddenly, he could hear the sounds of cheering and whooping from his squadron to his left. He turned to see Eleni giving him a big smile. Horrow was almost out of his seat, yelling at Cain. Jorn stood stone faced as usual off to the side. Cain gave his squadron a wave. He had managed to win his first fight. He had not come out unharmed, but it was a sure victory. The duel had honestly gone better than Cain expected.

He bowed once more to Marcus before jogging back to join his unit. He exited through a small gate towards one of the corners of the dueling ground before reaching Red Squadron's benches. He was greeted warmly with pats on the back and words of compliment. He moved to an empty chair next to Instructor Thorne and Eleni. Head Instructors Neptune, Junpar, and Haggerty sat a couple chairs over the side, situated in the middle of the seating arrangements of the Third Company. Neptune gave Cain a small nod as he took his seat.

"You did well Inductee Cain. You've improved faster than any Inductee I've seen. Commendable."

Cain turned to look at Instructor Thorne. She watched as Marcus helped himself up using the fence, still within the perimeter of the dueling ground.

"Thank you Instructor Thorne. I still have a lot of practice ahead of me if I am to reach your level."

"Pfaa! Maybe a lot of practice but not a lot of time. At the rate your improving at, I wouldn't be surprised if you surpassed me in raw technique by the time you graduate."

Cain caught Eleni's stare out of the corner of his eye. She nodded at herself, seeming to proclaim 'Yes, thank you Instructor Thorne! I indeed have trained him well!' Cain shrugged at Instructor Thorne's compliment. While his instructor looked prideful, he could swear he saw a tinge of bitterness lingering behind her eyes.

It wasn't long before the referees called the names of the upcoming participants. Eight boys and girls from all around stood to answer the call. Jorn and Eleni wouldn't be fighting for the next couple rounds. As the next round of duels began, Cain made sure to scrutinize all of the other participants. He had no clue how well the other Inductees fought. He would need to get a good gauge of how other Company's were taught. Soon, Conduit Horicus's command began the second bouts. Almost immediately the sounds of clashing swords filled the field.

Cain soon realized that every participant was a good fighter. They were all skilled, driven, determined. No loss was truly one-sided. Every participant had different strengths and weakness. Watching them apply their specific skills and adapt to their enemy's was entertaining beyond belief. Cain got lost in the fervor of the duels. It didn't take too long before four rounds passed without Cain realizing. During that time, six of the other participants from the Third Company fought. Only two made it through their first rounds. Now, it was Jorn's turn.

"Good luck Jorn."

The giant simply grunted as he rose, ignoring Cain and the rest of the squadron's encouragements.

I guess the real person who needs to be wished good luck is his opponent.

Jorn stood in the same dueling ground that Cain had fought Marcus in. The boy stood lazily with his sword in one hand. To this day, Cain couldn't believe the way Jorn's hand managed to dwarf the sword's handle. Soon, a smaller girl from another company approached. She seemed a bit concerned at the size of her opponent. Cain didn't blame her. Her head barely reached his shoulders.

"Now, begin!"

After a couple moments, Jorn dashed forward, seeming to want to end the fight early. The girl, however, was no amateur. She brought her sword up to deflect the larger boy's strike. Cain respected her battle instincts. She knew that there was no way she could completely block his strike. She could only try to divert some of the force away by knocking the sword aside. But perhaps what he respected more was her mastery over her Blessing. Her Blessing had condensed to envelop only her arms up from her elbows and her sword. This way, the aftershock of Jorn's blows wouldn't have that jarring of an effect. That was something Cain had yet to master. He still had trouble manipulating his Blessing in the heat of battle. But even with her skill, she was no match for Jorn's might. The larger boy mauled her, unleashing an unrelenting barrage of vicious strikes. She had no opening for counterattacks, and under Jorn's barrage she eventually made a mistake. It was a simple one. He had swung and she had brought her sword to meet his too late. Instead of deflecting with the center of the flat of her blade, she could only manage to deflect with the tip of the flat of her blade. The force of Jorn's swing knocked the sword right out of her hands. It was simple physics. As Jorn's blade met the girl's by at its tip, the torque applied onto her weapon was too great for her fatigued hands and wrists to endure. Unarmed, she found Jorn's sword hovering directly in front of her face.

"Inductee Jorn el Karnus is victorious!"

Some of the Red Squadron members cheered. Cain did not. The way he had beaten her left a sour taste in his mouth. Had he not improved at all since their spar?

The giant walked back nonchalantly before plopping onto his chair. Eleni gave him no thought. She was up in three rounds, marking the last round of the first series of duels. Almost an hour later and it was her turn. Cain gave her a thumbs up as she rose. She simply flashed him her teeth. Cain was wholly confident that she would win. There was no real point in even watching. Still, he was curious as to how she would finish her opponent.

Eleni's opponent walked up to meet his challenger. Even before the other participants had gathered, he bowed to Eleni. Cain couldn't hear what he was saying, but it was obvious he was showing his respects to the noble. Eleni's bleached hair and fiery red eyes had drawn the curious eyes of many Inductees and Instructors. Even at the Institute, Bellonas were not seen too often. While Eleni's opponent bowed deep enough his hair flopped downwards, Eleni barely lowered her chin. Soon, the rest of the round's participants were ready.

"Begin!"

It seemed Eleni's opponent wanted to catch the girl off guard. As soon as Conduit Horicus gave his mark, the thicker boy rushed Eleni. The duel didn't last even five seconds. Eleni parried expertly and immediately delivered her own thrust to catch the boy by his throat. He dodged Eleni's first strike, blocked the second and third, only to eat the next three. One to the knee which disrupted his balance, one to his liver to send him doubling over, and the last right to his temple. The boy collapsed to the side, knocked out cold. The Bellona had dispatched him fastlike. She now held the record for the Tournament's shortest duel. Cain laughed at the poor boy in his head.

I've been fighting that monster for the past two months! Everyday! That's not even a spec of what I had to endure during out spars!

Eleni tutted as she joined Cain and Jorn.

"Disappointing. Thought some of these participants would put up a good fight. But they all seem to be fodder."

Cain raised an eyebrow but didn't comment on her remark. He knew she would say something like that.

Not all of us get childhood tutoring from incredible swordsmen!

A total of thirty six duels in nine rounds had finished, half of the original participants knocked out of the Tournament. A little over two hours had passed, the sun now near halfway up in the sky. Most of the rounds had been quick, only some dragging out for more than ten minutes. But Cain knew these duels would start getting longer and longer. As the weaker participants were weeded out, the stronger ones would begin meeting in duels. These duels could possibly go on for fifteen to twenty minutes. Instructor Thorne explained she once saw one go an entire thirty. Cain wasn't sure how one could fight continuously for that long, but she had insisted it was possible. There were some pairs that were almost identical in skill level. If those pairs happened to not make any fight-ending mistakes, the duels usually became wars of attrition. Instructor Thorne said that the thirty minute spar had only ended when one of the participants simply passed out from overexertion. Cain was still a bit skeptical of her story.

Cain thought they would announce the beginning of the second series of rounds. Conduit Horicus did not.

"Before we continue with the Tournament, let us have some breakfast! Both spectators and participants must be hungry, no? Participants are not required to eat if they do not wish to. Now, workers! Bring the breakfast!"

Workers began bringing out small plates of food from within small tents that were placed on the outskirts of the seating arrangements. While not fresh, the bread and beverages were gladly accepted by the many sitting viewers. Only the few nobles spectating from the couple watchtowers seemed to have delivered a warm breakfast. Cain's stomach grumbled.

Now that I think about it, I am kind of hungry...