30
(Smallpools- Dreaming)
Adam
Tells was sitting up by the corties, keeping an eye out while Vetia and I played chopsticks in the back. It hadn’t even been two minutes since Brenden and Desmond went on their expedition for clothes when I heard a man talking to her.
“Good evening, ma’am,” a guard said. “Would you kindly move your wagon to the other side of the square? Fera’s Flavor have reserved this location for their production that will begin after the glisternoon.”
Tells was already sweating and glancing into the back of the wagon at us. “Sorry, I’m new here, what’s a glisternoon?”
“That’s the current time. Where the great light illuminates the quarter. There is still a little time until it is done, are you waiting for companions?”
“Uh, I- we’re waiting for our friends and, um-” she locked eyes with us in a silent cry for help.
Vetia quickly yanked the collar of her tattered shirt down, exposing a dangerous amount of cleavage, then whispered to herself. “Plan B it is.” She leaned out the front of the wagon and let those things hang as much as she legally could.
“Ma’am, are you okay? All we ask is for-” he made eye contact with the eye candy in front of him.
“So sorry sir!” She flawlessly executed a posh accent and took his attention off of Tells. “In truth, we’re new here and our friends are out seeking gild for me. I think Sandy was worried that we would be removed from the quarter due to how undesirably unsightly I am.” She twirled her hair meekly. “They should be returning momentarily, though, but we’ll move the wagon and be out of the way.”
The guard started stumbling as much as Tells. “Surely it’s no issue if they’re returning- if they’re returning soon.”
“Are you sure, we’d be happy to comply. We wouldn’t want to be a burden.”
I was hiding pretty low, but even I could hear the guard smiling stupidly. “Oh, surely there’s no- no burden. At all!”
“Truly? I wish the rest of the guards in this city were as gentlemanly as you. Thank-”
She was interrupted by another guard, one with a much deeper voice. “Oy! Jzonjat, what’s your delay?”
“Just investigating a possible parking violation,” he postured his voice to seem as official as possible. “It’s not a worry, though.”
“Who are those people? They’re not new to the city, are they? I don’t recognize that make of wagon.”
Vetia leaned back in, but just enough to keep out of sight of the other guard. Then, the other guard approached the wagon.
“Can’t hurt to check. Ma’am,” he asked Tells, “have you encountered any of these people on your way in?”
Her eyes widened and she froze up, so Vetia once again leaned out.
“What people? Hmm? Oh my, that one in the middle is quite hideous indeed. We did speak to some others who looked similar, but I’m unsure, do you know their hair and eye colors? And- ew- is that a jinian? Do they really look like that?” She chuckled as a frustrated vein bulged on her forehead, but her voice remained opportunistic.
“Believe me, they are disgusting creatures. The details of these individuals’ appearances are with my patrol partner, to be scribed on the notice board. I do believe the woman had red hair, though.”
There was a brief pause and Vetia changed her tone on the spot. “Oh me, you don’t think I look like her, do you? I really am that unsightly, aren’t I?”
The first guard, Jzonjat, piped back up. “Lucidin, I don’t think there’s any suspicion to be had with this one. Surely we can leave her be.”
Lucidin held the plank up to Tells, so much that I could see his hand from my low position. I was basically laying as flat as I could, trying to not move as much as physically possible, but I was curious to see the board and if I really was drawn so ugly.
Lucidin questioned further. “She looks an awful lot like this one… Tells.”
Jzonjat pulled the plank down. “The burn is awfully generic and could be a multitude of women, Lucidin. And I’ve already heard her name, which is Sandy.”
Tells sounded genuinely hurt. “I look generic?”
Jzonjat immediately started stammering. “No, no! The burn does! Not you, by any means.” He held the plank up to Tells again. “See! It looks nothing like her, Lucidin. Don’t be preposterous.”
I was so close to being able to see myself, I just needed to stretch and lean my head up a little more-
Crack! The main crate that was holding me up let out a loud, deep breaking crack and threatened to creak further if I leaned on it. I strained to hold myself up and not make any more noise.
“What was that?” Lucidin inquired. “Is there another person inside?” His footsteps began making their way around the wagon.
“I’m so sorry, it’s mortifying!” Vetia shouted, shoving her face in her hands and whimpering. “I’ve had serious bowel problems after a filthy yeffen traded us rotting meat. I’m so sorry! It’s so hideous and unladylike.”
Tells snorted laughing and covered her mouth, but the guards seemed to interpret it as an actual grossed out gag.
Jzonjat started panicking. “No! No! It’s natural! Farting is plenty normal and not unladylike!” He deeply and loudly inhaled through his nose. “I’d say it actually smells quite pleasant right now!”
Even that caught Vetia off guard, and her whimpers sounded more genuine because she was partly wheezing laughter, which kept Lucidin from checking the wagon. “Sir guard, that’s disgusting. I don’t want you to sniff it, please just go!”
As someone who was often bad and awkward at communicating, I had no sympathy for him. But he just kept digging himself deeper.
“No! NO! That was not my intention at all! What I meant was-”
A loud clang rang out as Lucidin cut him off. “Save your pride as a man and leave, Jzon!”
Their hasty footsteps disappeared into the distance and Vetia collapsed back into the wagon, trying to cover her wild laughter.
I sat up and got off the box. “How’d you know the whole female charm thing would work?”
She breathed to calm her laughter. “If a hot chick was tits out and curling her hair at me when I was a guy, I’d be brain dead too. It’s simple biology, Adam. There’s only enough blood for one head.”
“Well, you know what they say about smart fellers.” Tells said. “But fuckin’ hell, Adam, the clap of your asscheeks almost got us caught.”
I indignantly sat the rest of the way up. “It wasn’t my fault that the box-”
A shrill scream broke out from behind me, from behind the wagon. I turned around quickly and saw a small child holding some sort of fried bread, screaming and crying and pointing right at me.
“Mommy! Daddy! Monster!”
Suddenly, a golden-clad man angrily whipped his head toward the wagon while his equally as gilded wife picked up the kid and screamed for the guards.
In moments, several guards were surrounding us. I put up my hands. “Guards, I apologize for the scare, there seems to have been a mis-”
“Step out of the wagon!” A guard thrust his spear at my chest.
There was a yelp from behind me and when I looked, only Tells was still on the wagon.
“Bring me the plank!” There was a pause. “The description matches but what idiot burned this?! It looks nothing like her!”
“Sir, Lady Simira Amien made this one.”
“Yeah,” Vetia yelled from the ground, “we shouldn’t even be wanted, but she’s a petty bi-”
The chief guard slammed her nose with his gauntlet, breaking it sideways and snapping it violently. Vetia’s pained screams drew the attention of the entire square.
The longsword pricked into my neck and a guard yelled again. “Step out of the wagon and lay on the ground!”
I carefully moved forward and lowered myself out of the wagon, but as soon as I reached my feet for the ground, several hands grabbed my arms and threw me face down. I landed on my stomach and glanced over at Tells and Vetia. Tells was being very carefully cuffed while guards locked a collar around Vetia’s neck. All the while, boots and swords pushed me down while guards wrestled me into cuffs.
“Guards, please,” I yelled out, “what is this-”
Hard leather slammed my ear as a guard shoved his boot into the side of my face, locking my mouth and slamming my ear. I couldn’t think. Fear welled inside me and pain shot through my head. They twisted my arms behind me, causing my muscles to clench harder and for my head to pull up. Suddenly, something hard impacted the back of my head and that was it.
* * * * *
I woke up flat on my back on some kind of bench. I barely even shifted my weight and rolled off of it, slapping face down on a stone floor. The world spun around my panging head when I felt a pair of hands guiding me to sit. I tapped the back of my head and a pounding thrum shot through my brain. I winced hard and felt another hand there, a sharp jolt, and then the pain was gone. My eyes lazily opened to Vetia in front of me, weakly smiling, no more broken nose at least. She patted my shoulder and sat next to me, silent from the heavy steel collar around her neck. It seemed to vibrate or hum as silence took over the stone cell. My hands were cuffed loosely, enough that I could move pretty freely.
“Where is Tells? Did she make it out?” I checked around the tiny stone brick room. It was cold and musty with a small cell door. There was barely enough room for me to stand upright, it was so cramped and claustrophobic.
She looked at me like she was about to speak, then cut into her arm like she had earlier.
No clue. Not here.
“Where are we? Did Simira find us? Did she cut your tongue out again?!”
She silently exhaled with a grim, frustrated smile and cut into her arm again.
Shock collar. Can’t talk.
She didn’t need words to convey her anger, even though her cool exterior was firmly in place.
A shadow appeared at the cell door and a woman yelled. “He’s awake. Tell the Lady.”
That caught our attention, but I remained seated.
I don’t know where I am or what to do. What if they’re holding Tells in a different place to keep us from attacking the guards. Will they kill her? What are they gonna do with us?
I tapped Vetia’s arm and whispered. “Alright, man, lock the fuck in. I’ve been to a mini boot camp and this seems like it's gonna be way worse, like actual slavery bad.”
She snickered, a little wave electricity coursing through the collar as her thumb stuttered up and she slit away.
2 v All clutch ez win
A few minutes passed before I heard the door squeal and a woman in orange and bronze armor stepped through. “Follow me and don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do.”
My legs were shaking so much they felt like they were going to buckle if I stood. I hadn’t ever been in trouble with the law before, and especially not in a more brutal world. I just didn’t want anything bad to happen, but I couldn’t muster anything to happen either. A soft hand gently squeezed my wrist and guided me up and out of the cell. My legs moved even though there wasn’t a thought going through my head. Through more stone halls and up into the warmly lit wooden interior we went. At some point, we stopped. Then I heard her voice. That voice I never wanted to hear again was echoing throughout an eloquent study. We were in a tall room with white marble columns and pale orange walls. Portraits hung from every wall, and a seat like a discount throne was planted behind a busy, but organized desk. It wasn’t a huge room, but just big enough to make the daughter of a noble feel important. We were put in a row before Simira. Tells to my left and Vetia to my right.
“I am quite surprised you arrived so expeditiously, especially after getting the wretch a new tongue.” Simira looked truly overjoyed. She was smiling ear to ear seeing us in shackles like this, or maybe just Vetia. “I was hoping to have a more prepared group receive you upon arrival. And I must say, that collar is quite befitting of you. I bought it special for you. Tarynn insisted that I show some remorse, so I had the guard ready it as a welcoming gift. The whore is bound to bark at some point, so I expect the gift will be a grand lesson in modesty.”
Simira’s smile was twisting downward against her will, however, upon noticing Vetia’s weirdly condescending and indignant “are you really this petty” look. Vetia was glancing around with a slight sneer and a raised eyebrow like she genuinely thought Simira was above this.
The Lady Simira clasped her hands and looked at us like she was instructing children. “Unfortunately, you are a criminal who has slandered and assaulted nobility and her accomplices. The penance for such a crime is often death, but as I am a generous and forgiving honorable, I have taken responsibility for you. The accomplices will serve me to assist in righting your friend’s wrongs. But, please, do not think of it as punishment. This is to be a learning experience, so you can be properly acclimated to a civilized society. Any questions?”
Tells and I were silent. I couldn’t think to say anything. I barely had a clue what was going on in the first place. Desmond and Brenden had to be out there somewhere though, so surely they would find out what was going on and get us out of here. Somehow.
“As for you.” She slowly stepped forward, looming over Vetia. “I don’t want to deal with you because I know you will simply refuse to serve me. You will serve under my father, far from me, oh lucky you. Although I wonder if you will have rather served me by the end of this. We will see.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Vetia mimed writing like she wanted to say something, but Simira cockily shook her head.
“Well, I am truly happy that you are all so understanding of your situation. You will address me as Lady Simira or Lady Amien. You are servants now and disrespect will not be tolerated. Good members of society must be disciplined and understanding of their roles. Of course, upon showing good behavior, you will be granted privileges, as well as payment for your services. You are not being imprisoned, rather, rehabilitated. As for your roles. Tells, you will be my personal hand as we discussed prior.”
As they discussed prior? Tells was just staring at the ground, unmoving.
“Adam. Your duty will be assisting the soldiers in the training grounds and caring for their equipment. You will spend most of your time beneath the charge of Captain Zev and his equipment handlers.”
So what? I'm just supposed to be the village idiot that cleans their gear? It sounds a little shitty, but honestly I probably lucked out.
“And the final one. You are stripped of your name until you begin acting like somebody deserving of a name. Any caught using the woman’s name will be penalized as I determine fit. Your crimes are the most severe, but that is why your friends will be assisting in paying back your penance with you, with a trial once you have shown good behavior. Do be grateful, because not many lords would be so accommodating. Your charges are as follows: One, for assaulting a lesser noble. Two, for slandering a lesser noble. Three, adulterous acts with an arranged lesser noble. There is a road out of this rehabilitation, perhaps one which ends in you with your childish love as you want it, but that may only occur once you have been properly rehabilitated as I see fit.”
I was scared, but started speaking regardless. “Um, Lady Simira, I-”
“What is so important that you couldn’t ask earlier?”
“Uh, slander would imply that she damaged your reputation, but nobody else was around to hear for your rep-”
She raised a curious eyebrow and held a hand up to stop me. “Malign statements against a lesser noble are held to the same stature as slander, but thank you for expressing the need for clarification.” She irritatedly turned back to Vetia. “And think of your collar as a gift, to teach you to mind your crass, childish urges to speak.”
Vetia’s expression had turned to disappointment and realization. She shut her eyes and sighed silently, shaking her head subtly, but enough for Simira to notice.
Simira’s cocky grin spoiled as she slowly paced in front of Vetia and spoke. “You are quite lucky, as our court has been in need of a regenerative tejuh on standby. That will be your primary work and at the end, you will receive severance compensation. You will stay in your designated rooms within the manor and, one day, if you’ve shown growth as a person, your allowances may be extended to other freedoms.”
Vetia bit her cheeks, fighting back a smile with everything she had even though her eyes seemed a little more dead.
“What? Have I said something humorous?”
She just shrugged and shook her head while continuing her battle, looking at Simira like she was stupid.
“You wish to speak, but you have shown me that you cannot handle such a privilege. So until you show me that you can, the collar will remain. Then, once you have pondered on your grievances, I will allow you to air them respectfully as a polite citizen of Vehfirn does.”
Tells’ was biting her tongue. There was such a subtle disdain that only somebody who’d known her forever could pick up on it.
Simira turned to us. “And, should any one of you decide to rebel and harm a member of my house or myself, your friends will suffer twice the consequences of yourself. Very well. Off to your duties.”
A hand grasped my shoulder and pulled me backwards. It guided me into the same hallway, but all I did was look over my shoulder at the others. Simira walked toward Tells and two servants pulled Vetia out a different door. It didn’t go as badly as I was expecting, I only hoped that Brenden and Desmond would be able to do something from the outside to help us… somehow.
* * * * *
Across the manor was a grassy field surrounded by wooden and stone brick buildings. There were small sand pits, dummies and a stable area with corties inside. In another less populated but larger stable was a different type of mount. Their bodies were like that of a wide wolf with a shell on its back. Its head was long and reptilian in appearance, coated in fur save for a shell plate on its forehead, with several rows of gnarled sharp teeth in its beaked jaw. The more experienced guards, heavily armored at that, were the only ones near those creatures. They lumbered slower than corties, but their heavy natural armor, brutally gnarly maws, and metal plates over the soft spots made up for the lack of mobility with sheer power, like a walking tank.
The servant guiding me was a meek, hunchback jorlad man, with a thinning bowl-cut of brown hair, and a carefree, relaxed face. He walked with a limp in his left leg. “So you’re Adam! Nice to meet you, I’m Alwen Amser, and I’ll be teaching you how to do what I do. All things considered, you lucked out by getting this job. It’s relaxing, calm, and easy compared to scooping corty logs and keeping them from mountin’ everything they see.” He leaned in like he was telling me a secret. “Once you get used to the stench, it’s pretty enjoyable.”
“Yeah, okay.” Alwen seemed nice, even if he wasn’t very bright. He reminded me of some of my old coworkers who were content to do simple labor and drink the night away for their whole lives. How I was back on Earth.
He led me into one of the larger buildings, tugging the old wooden door to get it unstuck from the busted frame it was lodged in. The inside of the building smelled dank and musty. It was like a gym locker room full of old sweaty football equipment that was left to stew for weeks in the middle of summer. There were weapons and armor strewn across the floor of the building and sweaty padded clothes and leathers hanging off of everything.
“This is the job. We clean and polish the swords and plates and chains every day, then wash and treat the clothing and leather for tomorrow. It usually takes me from sunup to sundown, so let’s get to work and maybe we’ll have extra time to spare tonight! With the two of us we might be able to get a jump start on tomorrow’s work.” He gleefully waltzed into the rank mass of clothes and armor, tossing everything into piles.
I unenthusiastically joined him, and for hours we washed clothes and leathers, un-denting armor and scrubbing mud out of the chainmail, leaving the polishing for later. Buffing out scratches and refitting chainlinks was fucking miserable. The armor was mostly brass-tin alloy chest plates with steel chain, padded cloth, or leather covering the arms and sleeves. The curved points on the leaflike plates seemed to be made for heat reduction and air circulation. They wouldn’t hold well against strong hits, but glancing at the way the guards were training, they were taught to be nimble and constantly moving to maximize the utility of their armor and reduce direct impacts. There seemed to be a focus on lightweight and sleek armor to fit their dextrous scimitar and dagger combat. Triali scimitars, or jzonutos were straight with a sharp protrusion of the backside of the blade near the end and a slight backward hook, like a Turkish kilij with less of a bend. They had a hooked pommel that was commonly used to counter guard locks, a tactic in which the soldiers would utilize the scimitar’s hooked cross guard to quickly twist and lock their opponent’s blade, pushing it up or to the side while they slashed or stabbed at the wrist and other vitals with the dagger. This action commenced a sub-battle of daggers, kicks, and throws in locked combat which heavily favored more powerful, taller, and experienced fighters willing to fully aggress on their target, forcing them off balance. The daggers had a straight, roughly six inch long blade with two main variations. One had finger slotted-handles connected to a wide studded knuckle guard which could be used for defending dagger strikes or bludgeoning their opponent. The other was a simpler dagger with a straight grip and cross guard, used by more agile fighters or those who used sigils in their strategy. This sub-battle went until the scimitars were freed and the battle continued, one died, or the leader disarmed the opponent which essentially ended the battle.
Heavy units utilized full plate armor and a spiked shield, with a much longer and thicker version of the jzonuto with a three hand grip, called a jzonutik. The metal was light and strong, mostly wielded single-handed by those men on tank beasts and corties like cavalry units. The heavy soldiers also used brass atlatls with the brass javelins they stored on the back of their shields. The atlatl only had a range of about thirty feet, but was deadly accurate in the hands of a seasoned rider, able to blow straight through hanging meat dummies. The main perk seemed to be the one handed-ness of the atlatl, which allowed the heavy units to shield themselves from ranged attacks and infantry while riding their beasts of burden.
Seeing the armor and weapons up close while observing the guards training was interesting to me, and I started to understand how Alwen could be so joyful to be doing it.
“Why’re you here doing this? Is this the kind of job you wanted?” I muttered to him as I was scrubbing a sweaty shirt.
“Oh me? No big reason. My family has been serving the Amiens for generations. It’s our duty to serve them because they saved my great-great-grandfather in the Wever Delta. His ship was attacked and destroyed by hilfers. Apparently hilfers are these massive bugs that latch onto ships and burrow into them from underwater. I’ve never seen one myself, but the family story is that my great-great-grandfather fought off hilfers for eleven hours before an Amien ship found and saved him, the sole survivor of the shipwreck. He pledged himself to the family and now we serve them.”
He looked down a little dejectedly. “My older siblings joined the guard, cause our family has first rights to being high-ranking guardsmen, but I've had a bum leg since I was born. Couldn’t never move it right, not to mention I’m the youngest, and the runt. But Lady Amien, Lady Simira’s mother, was kind enough to let me stay and find other work here.”
“You’re stuck cleaning armor because you’ve got a bum leg? Sorry to hear that.” He was still cheery and doing his job, but that definitely cut deep.
“Well, I don’t clean armor every day, it’s just what I’ve been doing for a while now. Once every so often my family and the other servants of our esteem have a dinner with the Viscount and we are given the day away from work, on top of our usual day off. Lord Amien doesn’t do it as much as Lady Simira does. You’ll probably work every day, just because you’re new. Don’t worry too much, though, I’ll teach you everything you need to know so your solo day goes nice and smooth.”
Part of me knew this guy wasn’t trying to sound condescending, but he was really pissing me off for some reason. I was just getting pissed off in general. For all the shit that was going on, I was on edge and I really wanted to just tell him to shut up. Instead I bit my tongue and just kept scrubbing. It was shit like this that made me miserable. Monotonous bullshit only made bearable by watching the guards. I hated it. I thought I’d escaped it by ending up in this world, but work would never end apparently. I scrubbed and polished for a few more hours, barely making a dent in the pile of armor and we hadn’t even gotten to the weapons yet. Soldiers were entering the training grounds now, suited up and armed from their daily run around the entire quarter. I had been glancing over every now and then at them, but eventually stopped caring as they changed to lifting rocks for strength training. It was like a competition for them, who could lift the heaviest rock the highest and everyone was training to win in their respective size and sex brackets.
“Jinian. You’re the new servant?” It was the light blue man with the extra joints. He looked down at me apathetically while I was squatted over a chain shirt.
I glanced up and nodded respectfully. “I’m the new hire, sir.”
“Lady Simira informed us that you are to assist the guard in combat training however we need you. Please put this on and come to the training field.” He passed me a leather helmet and hand wraps. As I rose, his eyes widened a moment realizing that I was much bigger than him in everything except height. Alwen helped me wrap my hands, seeming excited the whole time.
“Adam, you’re gonna do great! Being a training assistant is an amazing opportunity. If you do well enough, you may be promoted to a guard one day.”
“What do you mean by ‘one day?’ How long is that?”
“Well, a few years or so of being an assistant and living should gain you favor with people who have influence with the Viscount. That’s how long it took me, back when I could still run. But they said I was irreplaceable in what I do, and they valued my hard work, so I stayed where they needed me most. I’m still an honorary guard, but I know it’s just them being nice. Still, it’s a lot of fun training with the guards! And hey, you’re a lot bigger and tougher and functional than me, so they might let you in quicker!”
Damn, this guy really did get the shit end of the stick in life. It was almost admirable how happy he was. But I didn’t have a few years. I didn’t know how long I had, all I knew was I wouldn’t be staying here. None of us were going to. Tightening the final strap, I started walking toward the field where the blue man was standing on the other side of a dueling pit.
“Thanks for the kind words, Alwen. Wish me luck.”
The blue man had his eyes on me the whole time. He was about a foot taller than me, but I was still bigger than most of the people here. He stood tall like a soldier, a stance that demanded respect. “I am Captain Andris Raizzen-Korte Zev of the Amien guard. You will refer to me as Captain Zev, Captain, or simply sir. I will assess your abilities in hand-to-hand combat.”
He removed his shirt and then gestured for me to do the same. His bulky and defined muscles intimidated me until I realized I was even more muscular. His height advantage was mostly in the legs, so he naturally wouldn’t be able to bulk as much as me.
I pulled off my shirt and readied myself in a boxing stance, or at least my best imitation of a boxing stance. I hadn’t fought since my boxing phase in middle school and my year of taekwondo was long forgotten. Fresh worry accompanied the frustration of today, but this was just what I needed.
“Captain Zev, the pleasure is mine. I am Adam the Mountain Crusher.” I pounded my fists together and stood ready, eager commotion coming from the surrounding guards.
“Captain,” one yelled. “You sure you’ll be able to take down a jinian?”
Captain Zev shot a look at the guy. “Silence will be all that’s heard from spectators.” He turned back to me, a slight grin forming on his lipless mouth. “Begin!”
He dragged his right foot back, his left foot pointed at me. He held his fists down by his sides. I took up the best boxing stance I could get and started shuffling toward him. I needed a good hit so I didn’t seem weak to the other guards. I lunged forward with a wild haymaker, putting everything into the hit, but he ducked so quickly beneath it.
His right fist flew into my chest as he stepped forward and extended his arm, jettisoning it out like a spring and returned to its normal length. There was a flash and he had already landed his left fist into my gut with a similar attack. The air was expelled from my body from what felt like a truck hitting me. I gasped for air, stumbling backward and trying to get out of his reach. His arms were too long and I couldn't escape his range no matter how hard I tried. I kept backing up and protecting my face, but he was landing hit after hit on my chest and stomach. I tensed my abs to try to lessen the blows, but too much damage had already been done. I was slowing down too much to focus on tensing my torso, so he was getting closer, packing more power into every one of his hits. I was barely able to get any air into my lungs because he just kept punching it out.
I was guaranteed to lose if I kept backing up like I was. A primal anger and joy rose through my entire body like an adrenaline surge. My instinct was taking over, something I hadn’t felt in forever, the whole reason why I started fighting back in school. He stopped punching and stepped back, waiting for me to move.
“Are you going to attack or block at all? I am assessing your abilities, Adam the Mountain Crusher, not using you as a dummy! Do something!”
We circled the sand pit, eyes locked on each other. He was loose and light, bouncing on his toes while I was trudging and slow from the bruises to my core. He seemed like he was having the time of his life, a dancer in the ring, perfectly matching the beat of battle. His feet danced so he couldn’t be caught off balance and his arms were always back and forth, ready to block or hit as he needed. The tight shimmering translucent ponytail flipped and waved behind him like an echo of his fighter’s dance.
I was trying to find an opening, any opening, anything I could even remotely work with. Then I noticed that he was crossing his legs while we were circling. Three quick sidesteps, then he would cross his legs to slow and regain balance. It was my only chance. I waited, watching. Every three steps.
One, two, three, cross!
I rushed at him while his legs crossed, jumping with my foot out toward his chest. I only found air while his fist found my face. My eyes opened and there he was standing right next to me.
“Keep your eyes open, Adam! Don’t let your opponent leave your sight!”
I fell back and flailed my arms toward him, but he blocked the hits. Then he grabbed my arm and pulled me to my feet, only to use my forward momentum to knee my side. Rage burned through my head and my chest like nothing I’d ever felt. He was toying with me, using me to make himself look better. I had to do something while he was right in with me or he would just dodge again. He kept on punching me back toward the edge of the circle, slamming me harder and harder.
“Are you simply a shield Adam? You have strength! Show me!”
That comment hit something deep down in me, and my body acted faster than I could keep track of. Being right up on him was my best bet. I pushed off of my left leg and held my ground against his blows, then shoved my palm into his stomach. A solid hit, but he absorbed most of it. Even still, my body was moving, throwing a wide right directly at the side of his head. His wide eyes told me that I caught him off guard, but all he did was flash me a fiercely proud smile. His head gracefully fell backward under my fist, my knuckles barely grazing his cheekbone. His body twisted and contorted under my punch, spinning in a full 360 on his right foot until his left heel drove into my cheek.
Lights out… again.
* * * * *
“Son of a…” my voice muttered to the blurry world around me. Blood red was on my left side and light blue on the right. Sitting up, Vetia’s hand tried pushing my chest back down, but I was dead set on sitting up and she wasn’t strong at all. Captain Zev was to my right, proudly smiling with a still bloody face.
“Mountain crusher is a bold title you have. You may be able to intimidate most people with your strength, but you have no experience to enforce your name.”
“Apologies, Captain, if it was too bold. It’s been a difficult week.” I sort of grunted that last part out, but holding it in wasn’t gonna happen. Iron and the sour taste of the rest of the situation filled my mouth. I was pathetic. Not even able to get a good hit in. I couldn’t even look at him.
“I understand. And my apologies for my kick. Your attack was far from what I expected out of a novice and caught my reflexes. You have the makings of a strong zeshuo, but you currently lack aim. Continue your work and continue training with us. In short time, I am sure I have the ability to convince the Lady to induct you into the guard.” He walked around the bed when I didn’t respond and stopped at the door. “You barely hit me, but you cracked my cheekbone.” He glared at Vetia, who smiled smugly at him. “Any soldier slower than me may have been killed by such a hit. I anticipate success in your growth. Rest well. And do your friend a favor by convincing her to do her job, for her own sake. Lord Amien will only be harsher if she remains defiant.” I sat silently and he walked out the door.
He left me alone in the infirmary with Vetia. “Cleaning armor and getting my ass beat. This is the life, isn’t it? You doin’ alright?”
Vetia rolled her eyes and waved the question off. She was almost as gaunt as she was in Poikla after healing only a few wounded guards and Captain Zev. She checked the door that nobody was coming and cut into her arm.
Train Fight
“Okay, I learn to fight and get promoted. That just puts me even more in her sight and under her control.”
She slapped her forehead and healed over her arm, then cut in again.
Influence Privileges
“You want me to rank up? To gain influence? I can’t fight back everyone and we don’t have the power to overrule anything she does. This is a prison! I don’t even know if we can escape.”
She was frustrated beyond compare, having so much to say all the time, but no way to say it. She hovered her claw over her arm, angrily wanting to write out an essay about what exactly I should be doing.
Get status/freedom. Find friends. Break out.
“How long? We don’t have forever to play castle. Lord Amien sounds like he’s bound to kill you or work you to death at some point. And Tells is Simira’s personal assistant, so we may never even see her.” She leaned back and nodded in agreement, seeming like she lost spirit for a moment. Then she tensed her face and looked angrily at me hitting my arm again. “Ow, what?” I sighed and looked into her eyes. “How long?”
She looked at me, a new conviction in her eyes, a vengeful, frustrated conviction that I could only interpret to mean “As long as it takes.”
So that’s what I did. For the next few weeks, I cleaned disgusting armor with Alwen and acted as a punching bag for the guard corps at the manor. They started dragging me out on runs and lifts, but I was in a weight class of my own, so lifting against them wasn’t really fair. But holy fuck, it was like a stupidly long run in full armor every day. I didn’t know how they did it. Captain Zev loved burst running and his group was more of the big guys and heavy weight lifters. We’d lightly jog until a street crossing, then sprint in formation to the next one, then jog again, and so on. I was beyond starving every time I sat down in the chow hall, and thankfully there was enough food. The people in the city started recognizing me, though. Sure, they treated me like an exotic, intelligent show animal, but it was better than being hated. I saw Vetia whenever I got beat to high hell, but never Tells. It was only a few weeks before Captain Zev began petitioning the Viscount for my enlistment into the guard corps and I wasn’t really surprised, because my presence got a lot of people to join the guard so they could legally fight me. Amien Manor became the only place in this part of Triala to train with a real life jinian.