Chapter 13

In the shadows of the manor courtyard, Ilyshn’ish found Baroness Zahradnik seated on a bench with text in hand.

“Good evening, Lady Zahradnik.”

“How was your day at the dojo?”

“Um…normal? I-I didn’t cause any trouble if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I was just asking how your day was,” Lady Zahradnik smirked up at her.

Ilyshn’ish squirmed under the Human noble’s scrutiny. How was she able to do that?

“Is something the matter?” The Baroness asked.

“I-it’s nothing.”

“In that case, please come and join me – I haven’t had the pleasure of your company for weeks.”

She examined their surroundings. The household staff were all asleep, save for the Undead. Some things in the manor had been moved around, but there were no drastic changes. Feet carrying her forward on tentative steps, she went to stand in front of Lady Zahradnik.

“There’s no need to be so formal when it’s just us,” the Baroness told her. “You must want to relax after a long day’s work.”

Closing the book in her hand and setting it aside, Lady Zahradnik shifted over to make room on the patio bench. Ilyshn’ish eyed the book she had put down.

“Fundamental Principles of Magocratic Governance,” Ilyshn’ish murmured, “Volume Three?”

“You’ve read it?”

“I don’t even know what the title means.”

“That daunting, huh?” Lady Zahradnik grinned, “All of my friends have read it already – I have a lot of catching up to do.”

The Human noblewoman patted the spot on the bench beside her. Ilyshn’ish seated herself, giving the book another glance.

“What is the book about?”

“It’s a treatise – a formal academic exploration – on how the government of a nation ruled by magic casters might be organized. It’s really quite fascinating.”

“Who would write such a thing?”

“The valedictorian of the Imperial Magic Academy’s graduating class of this year: Frianne Wyelia Van Gushmond.”

Lady Zahradnik looked down at the book, placing a hand on it with a rueful shake of her head.

“That a noble scion of the Empire could produce this…it truly demonstrates how far ahead Baharuth is relative to Re-Estize when it comes to gaining a competitive edge in magical integration. She’s the same age as I am, yet all I can do is put holes in things while barely managing to keep my demesne together. Rumour is that His Majesty has taken an interest in her work, so it’s essentially become required reading for every Noble of the Sorcerous Kingdom.”

“You’re not going to force me to read this, are you?”

“I believe you would benefit from its content,” Lady Zahradnik said, “but I won’t force you to read it. Since Dragons are innate arcane casters, I thought you might have developed an interest in it on your own.”

“This Frianne Gushmond wrote something for Dragons in there?”

“I couldn’t say for sure,” the Baroness replied. “What you take away from it depends entirely on you – I don’t have a Dragon’s perspective on things.”

A cool current of air spiralled in from the open roof of the courtyard, playing over the ornamental shrubs and trees arranged around the patio. Ilyshn’ish eyed the Human noblewoman’s light green dress. Was she not chilly? Summer was waning, and most of the city’s denizens had already transitioned to the fashions of autumn.

Ilyshn’ish reached into her Infinite Haversack, calling her notebook to hand. If Lady Zahradnik could understand the absurd-looking tome between them, maybe she could decipher Master Tian’s notes.

“Out of curiosity,” Ilyshn’ish asked. “Can you make any sense out of this?”

She flipped through until she reached the page Master Tian had used. Lady Zahradnik took the notebook in one hand, pursing her lips as she scanned the content.

“I believe so,” she said.

“Really?” Ilyshn’ish straightened in her seat.

“It’s been something I’ve been studying in order to help my subjects pursue their chosen vocations more effectively. Granted, they are all of civilian occupation, but I apply these lines of thinking to myself, as well.”

Should she be surprised or should it have been expected? The Baroness was working hard to shape her demesne and its people, but she knew little of what thoughts went into the changes she made.

“Is there something in particular you’d like to know?” Lady Zahradnik asked.

“I have no idea what he’s trying to say at all,” Ilyshn’ish answered. “I’ve learned a great deal from Master Tian about the fundamentals of unarmed combat, but anything advanced he has to offer appears to be solely for Ki users. Bards are not Ki users, but he suggests that we may have some methods unique to our class.”

“That seems perfectly plausible to me.”

“It does?”

Lady Zahradnik returned the notebook to Ilyshn’ish. She read it again. Nope, it was still as esoteric as ever.

“Every Job Class has something special to it,” the Baroness explained. “Usually several somethings. From Farmers to Blacksmiths to Bards. Physical combat classes all have several systems available to be harnessed that are associated with their fighting capabilities. How everything comes together gives each Job Class its distinct flavour.”

“That’s what Master Tian said, but I don’t get the whole thing about ‘systems’ or whatever.”

“It’s a sort of informal catch-all term,” Lady Zahradnik said. “The Bards in the Adventurer Guild have access to a broad set of non-combat skills, stealth, detection, spellsongs and physical combat ability. Most prefer using bows or crossbows, though they still know how to defend themselves with a sidearm if it becomes necessary.”

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“I see. Then what about me?” Ilyshn’ish pointed to herself, “I’m not a regular Bard.”

“You’re not,” Lady Zahradnik smiled slightly. “Since you’re a Dragon, my first guess would be that a Dancer is a natural path for Draconic Bards. It leverages your racial advantages and allows you to maintain Spellsongs without needing to vocalize them.”

This much, Ilyshn’ish understood. Being pretty much the only thing that she understood, it gave her the sense of being stuck with no progress beyond figuring out how to turn Spellsongs into dance forms.

“Are there any combat drills that you could demonstrate for me?” Lady Zahradnik asked, “Perhaps something can be discerned from the way that you’ve learned to fight – this is how I’ve been developing Martial Arts. Since you’ve been standing back in the Adventurer Guild examinations, I haven’t ever seen you participate directly in combat.”

Ilyshn’ish rose from her seat, padding over to the centre of the patio. Lady Zahradnik crossed her ankles under the bench and leaned forward with interest.

Entering into her Form of Restoration, Ilyshn’ish went through several of the practice drills that Master Tian had all of the disciples at the Justice Dragon Dojo were made to perform for hours on end. Doing them on her own felt distinctly discomforting, especially with Lady Zahradnik keenly watching her from the side. Eventually, her demonstration faltered and she was left fidgeting on the patio.

“I’m hardly an expert,” Lady Zahradnik said, “but what part of that was ‘dancing’?”

“I can dance, too!” Ilyshn’ish replied.

“But shouldn’t a Dancer be incorporating their dance into combat?” Lady Zahradnik asked, “I thought that was the whole idea. Have you observed other Dancers around the city?”

Ilyshn’ish shook her head.

“I think the theatres should have them,” the Baroness said. “Maybe we could go watch one of their plays one of these days…or maybe you just need a dance partner.”

Lady Zahradnik rose from her seat, pulling a spear from the Infinite Haversack on her right hip.

“W-what are you doing?” Ilyshn’ish asked.

“Combat is often referred to as a dance by the more romantically inclined,” the Baroness’ weapon flowed through several movements. “This is an unenchanted spear, so any damage that you manage to take should be taken care of by your Ring of Regeneration.”

“But I don’t want to take any damage!”

“Then I suppose you had better start dancing,” Lady Zahradnik smiled mischievously.

The spearhead darted towards Ilyshn’ish’s feet, and she hopped back in alarm. The Human noblewoman followed through on her attack, forcing Ilyshn’ish into the corner of the courtyard with a series of rapid jabs. Ilyshn’ish brought her arm up when the weapon came down in a diagonal chop. She blocked the attack, but the tip of the weapon smacked her in the head anyways.

Ilyshn’ish rubbed her head with a confused frown, and Lady Zahradnik laughed.

“Hafts bend,” the Baroness told her as she stepped back. “A spear might look like a straight and pointy weapon, but it has a certain degree of flexibility. If I had used a Martial Art just now, that would have probably hurt.”

Lady Zahradnik came after her again. This time, Ilyshn’ish guided the incoming strikes wide as she carefully navigated her way around the open space.

“You learn quickly. Most of the Iron-ranks spend the first few days constantly flinching away after getting knocked around.”

“They don’t hurt, and they’re pretty easy to follow–hiiiieeee!!!”

She dodged to the side with a gasp as the next strike came in, three times faster than before. The flow of the spear changed, and Ilyshn’ish started to feel like she was being herded along.

“You’ll have to counterattack soon,” Lady Zahradnik warned her. “If all you do is stay on defence, people will figure out how to break through.”

It didn’t seem that way. Despite their increased pace, the attacks were still harmless and easy to follow.

The spear abruptly turned into three, jabbing in at her from different angles.

“What!”

Ilyshn’ish knocked one of them aside, dodging the other two as she stepped in to close the distance. Lady Zahradnik’s spear haft came across to intercept her blow, and a booted heel kicked Ilyshn’ish away.

“Much better,” the Baroness said. “You looked a lot more like you were dancing there.”

“Your spear…what just happened?”

“A second-stage Martial Art,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “Didn’t it look ridiculous?”

“‘Ridiculous’ might be a bit of an understatement,” Ilyshn’ish told her. “Can all Adventurers do that?”

Lady Zahradnik relaxed her stance. After staring at her weapon for a moment, she put it away.

“The veterans from Rainbow are capable of third-stage Martial Arts,” she told her. “As far as the newer members are concerned, I think I’m the only one with the background required to advance this far. The Adventurer Guild’s curriculum should eventually raise everyone to a similar set of standards, but it is something that will take time.”

“…how much time?”

“The Guildmaster tends to be optimistic, but he estimates that it shouldn’t take more than three or four years to develop a suite of second-stage Martial Arts appropriate to one’s rank. Advancement doesn’t stop there, of course.”

Absurd. How was a poor Dragon like Ilyshn’ish supposed to be able to keep up with such nonsense?

“Too fast!” She complained, “In the time that it takes me to grow a few centimetres, a Human can learn a myriad of these insane Martial Arts. This is unacceptable.”

Lady Zahradnik let out a snort, seating herself back on the bench.

“I didn’t come remotely close to landing a solid hit,” she said. “There are many races with powerful, natural advantages in this world – enough to be insurmountable to the average Human. The tenets of my faith state that the ability to develop many skills and techniques is humanity’s advantage. That, given enough time, training and equipment, Humans may surpass other races in martial strength.”

A shadow crossed over the Baroness’ face, and she cast her gaze down at the patio stones.

“It does not mean that other races are incapable of learning to at least some degree,” she said. “If anything, it seems that their natural advantages keep them in the lead. I haven’t yet seen the point where Humans surpass other races, but it should be there somewhere. Adherents of my faith constantly strive to bring us closer, bit by bit – generation by generation.”

“So I can do it too? These impossible-looking techniques.”

“I don’t see why not,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “This may sound a bit strange, but to explore your options as a Dancer, you should focus on the more fantastical elements associated with the vocation. Things that don’t make sense based on what you know of reality; preposterous tales and accounts you may otherwise believe to be the product of inebriated imaginations.”

“That sounds like a sure way to get myself hurt,” Ilyshn’ish crinkled her nose.

The Baroness was only able to supply a shrug in return.

“If anything,” she said, “it’s the other way around. I was grounded in over a decade of mundane martial discipline when I joined the Adventurer Guild. That grounding…blinded me to the absurd realities of our world. It blinded everyone. The proctors assumed I knew what I was doing, and I assumed that I was doing everything right. I did everything I could to try to solve the problem through conventional means. Only when I was able to free myself from that rigid, conventional thinking was I able to finally grasp Martial Arts.”

“So you’re saying that these ‘systems’ – like Martial Arts – fall under the broad concept of a vocation, or ‘Job Class’. These systems are what should belong under a certain concept, made manifest by the concept itself. It is arbitrary rather than something one can come up with through ‘normal’ reasoning.”

“It is a theory that still requires much testing to prove,” Lady Zahradnik said, “but yes, that is an apt way to put it. You appear to have a more concise way of understanding this.”

“The concept of a Draconic Bard was what drew me to becoming a Bard in the first place,” Ilyshn’ish replied. “I learned all the things that I thought Bards should know, but I was also limited by what I didn’t know. As you say, these arbitrary systems are not something that would occur to me as conventionally possible, thus I would have never discovered it on my own.”

It appeared that she owed Lady Zahradnik yet another weighty favour. She should have to address the imbalance, lest something horrible befall her.

Another gust of night wind was sent spiralling down through the opening above, sending the scents of Lady Zahradnik’s manor swirling around them. With Ilyshn’ish’s personal conundrum tentatively on its way to being solved, other details stood out to her perception. One of them filled her with a sense of growing alarm.

Her eyes widened and she stepped back three paces.

“L-Lady Zahradnik,” she asked, “what happened to your scent?”