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The Sevens Prophets
Tale 1, Ch 6: Training with the Reds

Tale 1, Ch 6: Training with the Reds

  Jasper smiled, wondering what the Prophets would think of Firefly standing in front of the steps.

   He had little time to ponder this, though, as he found himself in a large, crooked chamber. It was not quite square, not quite round and had jagged walls. Hanging from the ceiling were several oddly shaped lanterns, one of which put forth a strangely natural light. The size of it intimidated Jasper but, more than that, the shock of what was happening on the room’s floor made him dive behind a heavy chair next to the door.

  Two men were hitting at each other with weapons. They jumped and swiped, trying to strike the other with a clang of metal. Jasper hoped he wouldn’t be spotted. His hiding spot wasn’t very good, though.

  Jasper held his body close to the chair and saw a woman standing in a rounded corner of the room. Mirrors flanked the walls around her, and she stared at her reflection without blinking. This high amount of concentration confused Jasper enough that he stared at the woman.

  In a blink, she pulled out an axe and whirled it around her body so fast that Jasper couldn’t even see it. It was as if the woman had instantly turned into a whirl of red. As quickly as it began, it stopped, and the woman stood staring at her reflection, the axe strapped on her back and only one tiny bead of sweat on her face. She grimaced at this.

  Jasper gulped.

  He was more confused than ever. But at the same time, the strangeness of these people intrigued him beyond belief. He nearly yelped when the metal door he’d just come through opened. In stepped a man carrying a long metal stick with a broad, heavy head.

   “Time for response training, boys. Now, who wants to stand between the wall and my mace?” the man asked. He was very tall but not incredibly muscular. What he lacked in menacing build he made up for in his incredibly scarred face. He held the mace in his hand and waited for a volunteer. “Marshalle Hex, I’ve already done the draining exercise for you today so you can take a break.”

  Marshalle, one of the exercising men, seemed relieved, and sheathed his blade.

   “I’ll do it, Gralin,” the other man said, and walked over to the middle of the room.

  Gralin nodded and whirled his mace, stretching his arms. As he did this, he made eye contact with Jasper.

   Jasper quickly shuffled back toward the wall, cursing his curiosity and the fact that he had nowhere to run. Backed into a corner like this, he did the only other thing his shocked mind could think of. He jumped at the tall man and tried to punch and kick to get his way back to the door. Jasper had fought beasts before. He’d been attacked by small scavenging ones in his treks through villages, so he knew how to move fast.

  He punched and kicked at Gralin, but the man moved out of the way.

  “Hey,” Gralin said, and put a hand out to grab Jasper.

  Jasper ducked and dodged this and dove between Gralin’s legs, jumping onto his back. Gralin ducked and turned and Jasper rolled to the floor, turned, and went for the man’s stomach. Without even seeing Gralin move, Jasper found two hands holding him as if he were gripped by stone. Jasper kicked desperately.

  “Stop that,” Gralin growled.

  Jasper felt strange. His eyes went wide and he seemed to get weaker and weaker. It was as if his energy had been liquefied and was now draining into Gralin’s body. His mace glowed a deep red and he slowly set Jasper down. When he let go, Jasper felt the draining stop and he staggered to keep upright.

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  “You’ve got good moves, Volunteer, but you need to learn to think before you act,” the scarred man said as his mace stopped glowing. “I’ve just demonstrated the draining touch. I only drained a little of your energy, just to stop you jumping around like an idiot.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jasper said, and shook his head, not making it feel any better.

   “You’d better have been doing something constructive back behind that chair or I’ll take away your use of this facility,” Gralin threatened. “Now, stand over where Bick is and tell me your name.”

  Jasper, fearful, confused, and a little weakened, complied and ran over to where Bick stood awaiting his training. He waited there as Gralin walked to the center of the room. Jasper could feel his energy coming back as he took deep breaths.

  “I said tell me your name,” Gralin repeated.

  “Jasper,” the scared Mother-Dweller squeaked.

   “Your full name, Volunteer,” Gralin said as he cleared his throat.

   “Surjasper,” Jasper replied with a satisfied smile. He realized he had learned at least one helpful thing from his time with Nin.

  Gralin, however, tilted his eyebrows. “You must be new. Very well, we’ll start with the basics.” Gralin hefted his mace, twirling it lightly. “As you know, we Reds have many uses of the power blessed in our weapons. I’ve already talked about the draining touch. If used on another Prophet, we can not only weaken them but possess their powers as well. This is, of course, strictly forbidden unless in dire need. Second is the deathblow, where the slightest cut can cause death.” Gralin tilted his head to the woman in the corner as she once again turned into a whirl of red. “Miss Drascil over there is practicing her skill at deft hands. And, of course, you must know the blast.”

   In what seemed like a slight twitch, Gralin pointed his mace at Jasper. It glowed red for a brief moment and then, to Jasper’s horror, a deep red beam of light flew from its tip.

   Jasper dove to the ground, the red blast hitting the wall. Strangely, neither blast nor impact made a sound.

  “Impressive,” Gralin said, and fired again.

  Jasper rolled out of the way and tried to scream.

  “As you know…” Gralin said as he kept blasting.

  Jasper jumped and ducked as a blast flew near his side.

  “Blasts can either be stunning…” Gralin continued.

  Jasper rolled again, changed directions, and jumped toward Gralin, unable to hear the man speak.

  “Or cause death,” Gralin said.

  Jasper pulled out his knife as he did a backflip, rolling backwards and avoiding two more blasts. Panicking, he felt his only hope to avoid death from this crazed Prophet was to attack.

  “It is all in the control and concentration,” Gralin explained.

   Jasper came face to face with the man and feigned an attack at Gralin’s throat. Gralin raised his mace to block, and Jasper rolled to the side and came up on his backside, plunging the knife toward the man’s spine.

  In a flash, the blade was out of Jasper’s hands and Gralin was standing on top of him, the red-topped mace at Jasper’s head.

  Gralin stared at Jasper’s curved knife as Jasper panted, Gralin’s heavy boot making it hard for him to breathe. “Good craftsmanship, Volunteer. And if you keep those moves up, when you get this knife Blessed you’ll be a credit to the Sevens Prophets,” Gralin said, and offered Jasper a hand.

  Jasper stared open-mouthed at the hand, trying in vain to wiggle away.

  “All it takes is a little transfer of energy into the weapon, as if you’re pouring your emotions into it,” Gralin explained.

  Jasper panted as his senses came back to him, and he realized that Gralin wasn’t really going to hurt him.

  “And your energy will expel through it in whatever intensity you wish. Try it if you won’t get up,” Gralin said. He tossed Jasper’s knife into the air. Jasper caught it.

   Gralin got off Jasper and took a few steps back. Jasper stood slowly, his knife pointed at Gralin. The other Prophets in training waited to see what Jasper would do.

  “You won’t be able to put out any energy till the weapon is Blessed, but the concentration helps,” Gralin said. “Demonstrate this for me.”

  Gralin waited.

  Jasper sweated.

   Jasper scanned the room, looking for a way to escape. He knew he had to get to the center of The Pinnacle, where he could teleport home. But he needed to get away from this frighteningly agile Prophet. Jasper took a deep breath and pulled his knife back to strike. Gralin raised his mace in defense again, and Jasper ducked and hurled the blade into the hanging lantern. It shattered, and before those in the room could blink, Jasper had retrieved his knife, his eyes adjusted to the darkness from long nights on dark paths, and was out the door he’d come in.

   Jasper was gone, and couldn’t hear it, but in the darkness Gralin stated, “Do you think he meant to do a silly thing like that?”

  The students shrugged.

  “Okay, Bick, you’re up.”