Chapter 85: Nevermind the Darkness (Part 2!)
Their fight was one of the many that day, but its goal was the most unique out of all. Depending on their results, they would receive a single bit of equipment that could change the tide of their future.
From everyone in the fight, they imagined it as some great weapon, one that could nullify Ani’s magical abilities. As they faced more upcoming foes, this hope drove their thrusts and strikes.
From Skaldi’s position, he could clearly see every hazard and obstacle that was coming their way, and he couldn’t do anything about it. He shared the overlook with the other teachers and even Oligarchs. There was light conversation between them all, generally pleased with the team’s progress.
However, Skaldi wasn’t pleased that he was there.
Even though he had reopened his wounds, it hurt him more that he couldn’t help his friends. It took everything not to yell out who was coming and where from.
This trial was being conducted in the facilities' many arenas, this one being one of the smaller ones. There were two sectors, in bounds and out of bounds, with space for trainers to enter. Fighting in a flat square with four gates, the arena had been accustomed to resemble a Tripolian village. Skaldi had to be impressed because Amir was impressed by its accuracy.
Although there was one thing that was off about it.
In the center of the square was a thin wooden frame. The frame of a friend. The frame of Vega.
Compared to everything else, this was the cheapest and most ugly looking thing there. It was a simple cross with a sackhead. Whoever had made it only bothered to give the sack a smiley face, not even caring to tie it completely.
One of the attackers went to fire at Vega, but Bolato dashed in front and blocked the arrow, continuing on with stabs with his blade.
“Good! Good.” An old and energetic voice spoke right next to Skaldi, someone that smelled terribly of alcohol. With a slight turn of the head, he saw a kind yet mysterious frame.
“Oh. Oligarch Graham?” Skaldi addressed him casually, like an acquaintance you met outside of work.
And in a way, he was a co-worker. As it had turned out, Oligarch Graham was the guard drinking in the test of will. Of course, Graham was also an alcoholic, but he simply feigned the demeanor of a bitter guardsman.
He wore the same gear but they were tighter and less loose, now looking the part of a gruff general instead of a dour soldier. Graham sadly could not change the way he smelled, a dull sweetness around him. He was an Iozian, with all the flaws and pleasantries.
“Indeed, it is me! How is the pain? Or uh, the healing?” Fumbling over his words, Graham straightened his posture to mask his awkwardness. He didn’t want to appear too friendly, but on the other hand he really couldn’t care about being a proud ruler.
“I’m doing fine. Well, besides the nightmares that is.” Skaldi shrugged, leaning on the overlook. His foot was getting restless and he occasionally glanced at everyone else fighting.
Noticing how Graham held out his hand in a cupped fashion, like he was holding an invisible beer cup, Skaldi grabbed his flask from his hip and tossed it to him.
“Is that right? Well, it seems like you need this more than me.” Handing it politely back to him and joining him in looking at the arena, Graham took in the scene with a thoughtful look on his face.
There were still two questions at the back of Skaldi’s mind, of what roles the other teams would have. How they all fit, everyone he sees outside, in this grand strategy of Graham’s. Despite his casual persona and lack of Oligarchic appearance, he knew there was something bigger at play.
He had seen many of the forests of Core Civitus be chopped down and entire workshops on the rivers, building entire fleets of new and bizarre ships. Sanguine boats that could attack with harpoons, Kai Ren floating turtles with giant iron spikes, and Matigas Na Tao war canoes that could navigate tight waters.
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Not only this, but in the very halls of the facility, a great amount of living quarters grew tenfold and the people there twentyfold. The once quiet and lonely facility had become an entire city, where you could hardly find a private space. It was all so headachingly confusing. Skaldi couldn’t wrap his head around it. How would they be able to help?
And the second, and arguably more pressing question, why is he doing this?
He, as in Oligarch Graham. This strange overwhelming Iozian man, one that had so mean and sour on his first meeting. The one that might have seen Skaldi as a useless body, or had a hatred of ghosts.
For what reason, for gold, for glory, for what goal was Graham doing this? Compared to Oligarch Tibato who had locked the doors of Jantok Sky as it was being invaded, Graham was so awfully different.
Graham was friendly! And not in the way of a sneering aristocrat or patrician, but in the manner of a relative or an old friend. He was a ruler, yes, but a ruler that led.
He might have called Graham a leader, but Skaldi now had a distrust. That secretly, Graham was gambling with all of their lives.
And the worst part about that thought was Skaldi was right.
Back down in the arena, things weren’t looking so good. After being sprayed in the face with a squirt sling, a sort of tube that blasts water, Amir tripped and fell out of bounds.
As Valiato was laughing at how he got beaten by water, two of the trainers simply lifted her off her feet and threw her right beside him. Scratching the back of her head, she could feel Amir’s disappointment.
“~...uh… I didn’t lose to one versus one?~” Valiato offered her meager achievement to Amir.
“~Did you win one versus two?~” Amir didn’t even bother to look at Valiato, his eyes locked on Bolato’s position.
“~Do I look like I can fight two guys at once?~” Valiato shook her head and gestured to her small frame.
“~It doesn’t matter if you don’t look like you can, kid. It matters if you can. Use what’s been given to you.~” Crouching down to her level, Amir playfully patted her head. The sound of fighting grabbed both of their attention, as they focused on their teammate’s last stand.
With ten more men charging down at Bolato, he held his ground as long as he could. He was outclassed, barely able to block their spears. Forced to take an aggressive stance, Bolato used his shield to bash the enemies out. This had actually caught them off guard, making them go out of bounds. With a hearty laugh, Bolato pressed on.
“Woo! Nice one!” Skaldi held out his fist, pumping it in the air.
“Boo! You suck!” Valiato stuck her tongue out, getting a collective laugh from the people above.
Once there were enough to manage, he let his blade to the word. Striking hard with his sword, he managed to back a couple of them in the corner of the arena, nearly sending them all out.
“Come on you fools! I’m right here!” He jeered at them, keeping them all at bay. Even with their spears, they couldn’t be baited into getting close to him. From overhead, Skaldi cheered, seeing that they were nearly going to complete the test.
“And behind you?” Making a cone with his hands around his mouth, Graham yelled at Bolato.
His eyes slowly raised open, like he was saying ‘oh shit’ with them. At the end of his eyes, Bolato saw the three other trainers. With a quick chop, the fake Vega collapsed into a puddle of wood, hay, and cloth. Some of the sticks rattled on the ground for a bit, making the whole scene quite embarrassing.
“Now you suck. That will be a couple more months then.” Waving everyone in the arena goodbye, Graham scoffed and started walking to the door. All the trainers and advisors looked at each other stunned. Not because of Bolato’s failure to protect the target, but because of how quickly Graham gave up on them.
Looking at the Oligarch go, Skaldi looked back at everyone in the arena, seeing their individual reactions. Taking to kicking the wall, Valiato was taking things bitterly. Amir didn’t seem all that bothered, bowing his head and shaking it back and forth.
Bolato, in a total shock to Skaldi, seemed dejected. That he, rather than the team, had failed. There was a twitch in his eyebrow and the way he dropped his arms. It wasn’t a grand expression of sadness or grief, but it was strong enough to see that Bolato felt doubt. That he was the weak link, instead of Skaldi. For some reason, likely love, the elf hated that.
“Wait.” Hearing the door close, the redhead started to walk. Then to jog. Then to run.
Crashing through the door and into the adjacent hall, Skaldi chased after Oligarch Graham. On the walls were beams of light passing through gated windows.
“Wait! They were doing so good! Come back!” Yelling out, Skaldi only saw Graham getting further and further out, like his perception was being stretched out. His lungs burned and his wounds soured, but he didn’t let up. He wasn’t going to be ignored.
Seeing him turn the corner, Skaldi skeeted on his feet and grip the wall, swinging around. As he was driving his foot into the ground, he noticed something was terribly off about the hall ahead of him.
Something that should have been there wasn’t there.
Graham had disappeared.