As I was pulling my sword from its sheath, an idea popped into my head: What if I try to get out of this without being cut, and without causing too big of a scene? I had become so accustomed to my rapid healing that the idea seemed almost strange to me, but it did have certain advantages. I don’t want to damage my new gambeson if I can avoid it, I thought, I also should keep Uwrish self-defense laws in mind, even though it's unlikely I'd be caught in this scenario. Besides, it’s not like there’s much chance of death if I fail. This fight will be just like a juvenile’s first knife training, and if not, I can always use my sword.
Warbreed had to be taught how to fight with knives and guns, it wasn’t as though the knowledge was built into them genetically. Usually around a child’s first birthday, whatever adult was in charge of them would take them and another child out to the woods with two knife-length sticks dipped in ink. They would then play a sort of game where both children were expected to try to mark the other using their stick, without being marked themselves. The children would be scored, and the games would continue for some months, with children who received poorer scores being given extra matches to make up for their deficit.
Of course, the inked stick was an imperfect analog to a knife, and only once a child could sustain a mock fight for several minutes without being marked would they be allowed to train with real weapons. In a knife fight on Earth, it was accepted that it was a near impossibility to strike without being struck. Knife injuries on Earth were also often quite debilitating, therefore the goal in combat was avoiding the blade at all costs, striking back only when a perfect opportunity presented itself to avoid over-commitment. However, in the world I now found myself in, singular knife wounds alone had equivalent lethality to punches back on Earth, and therefore the methods of knife fighting used by humans were different.
I let go of my sword and flung my right hand towards the leader, chopping him in the neck, while my left hand grabbed him by the wrist and twisted, forcing him to drop his weapon in surprise. Using force magic to root my feet, I slammed my right fist into his jaw just under his left ear, rattling his brain. The leader’s body went limp, and I threw him by the neck and arm into his associates, sending two of them tumbling to the ground.
The next knife was swung at me as though it was a short sword, making it extremely easy to avoid. My feet were still secured, so I used my more stable footing to shove the attacker back, making him trip over his own feet and bash his head on the ground beneath him. He was stunned, though not unconscious, and his position fouled the footing of the third attacker, making it easier to dodge his stab at my chest. It’s almost better to use force magic to gain better footing than enhance arm strength, I thought, it lets me use more of my core muscle strength in blows, and I don't have to adjust and modulate it as much.
My left arm hooked around the outstretched arm of the stabber, then tightened to snap his elbow joint. His kitchen knife fell from his grasp, but I tracked it with my eyes and used yet more force magic on it. I fumbled the first attempt, but the second caught the knife midair and threw it up into my right hand. I can do this one like the guy in the Vehrehr slums, I thought, stabbing the man in the gut at a high angle. With another push of magic, I moved the entire weapon into his wound, then I threw him backwards into the still-stunned man who was standing behind him, knocking him down as well.
The only man left standing, one of the ones who had been hit by the leader, switched his knife to a reverse grip and began slashing at my face and neck, failing to hit me because I could read his movements. Then I had another idea, something I could use him to test. Summoning up the mental image of two orbs of light, I batted the man’s knife hand away with my left hand and grabbed his face with my right. Magic energy surged out of me, and the insides of the man’s eyeballs flashed with light, sending him screaming to the ground clutching his face. That’s a decent non-lethal move, I thought, if I can’t make the flash as bright as a flashbang in daylight, I can just manifest it directly inside the eyeball. Still, the coloration was different, and it took more energy than usual.
The last mostly-unharmed man, getting to his feet after being knocked down by the leader's body, had watched the exchange between myself and the now-blind man rolling around on the ground. I saw his expression change from anger, to fury, then to uncertainly. His eyes glanced from side to side, and my own hand dropped to my throwing knife holster in case he tried to run and attract more attention. He looked at my hand, then back to me, and dropped his weapon.
“Alright,” he said, holding his palms out towards me, “you win. Just let us go.” One of the others on the ground sighed, and I heard the sound of a knife clattering to the ground. I was about to go back and pull my coin from the leader’s hand when heavy metal footfalls approached, rounding the corner into the alley.
“You yeyhhayseytayb had better start running-” Vaozey roared as she barreled towards myself and the men, cutting her speech off abruptly when she managed to take in the scene. Her run petered out, going to a quick jog, then a walk, then nothing.
“Vaozey!” the surrendering man called out. “This man is a Rehvite! I saw him use force magic to steal Zhoyyngawng’s knife!” Vaozey looked at me with a clenched jaw, then glared at the surrendering man as though she was trying to exert force on him with her eyes.
“Oh is he?” she asked in an accusatory tone. The man, recognizing that he had done something wrong, began to sputter out a reply.
“Well, why else would he-” he stammered. Vaozey walked over to the leader, just a few paces from me, and kicked him in the stomach with a plated boot. When he didn’t have any reaction, she did it again, then crouched down and slapped the man in the face. I don’t think that’s going to wake him up, I wanted to say.
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“I haven't killed any of them yet,” I said. Vaozey looked at me, more annoyed than angry, and then slapped the leader again. His hand opened, and my coin fell out onto the ground with an audible noise. “Ah, that’s mine,” I said, bending down and picking up the coin. Amazing that he managed to keep ahold of it while unconscious, I thought.
“So they tried to rob you,” Vaozey said flatly. The surrendering man once again began trying to say something, but Vaozey’s stare cut him off.
“Yes,” I replied, “I did give them several chances to back down. Since this is the slums, can I assume no guards will be involved in this?” That got a laugh out of Vaozey, a harsh barking noise more reminiscent of coughing than any sort of vocal sound.
“You think I’m going to go to the guards?” she mocked, looking at me incredulously.
“No,” I replied, “them.”
“Every man in this alley is wanted for robbery,” Vaozey informed me. “Mostly robbery of wealthy npoyt Rehvites, so it’s not like I care. If any of them was stupid enough to report this they’d be more likely to end up in a cell than you.” The leader groaned and reached for his face, and Vaozey stood back up to her full height. She is taller than average, I realized, something I hadn’t noticed since she was still a bit shorter than me.
“Ugh, wha-” the leader mumbled, his eye still swimming and unfocused.
“Ngoyvao,” Vaozey said, “you know the rules, don’t you?”
“Is that Vaozey?” Ngoyvao slurred. Vaozey kicked him in the ribs, creating a snapping noise and making him cry out in pain.
“I. Told. You,” Vaozey said, emphasizing each of her words with a further kick. “You. Rob. Rehvites. Nobody from the slums, and nobody who isn’t looking for trouble. I believe I told you what I'd do to you if you didn't obey me. You zmowneyjh! Seytoydh! Teylm!” Three more forceful kicks broke Ngoyvao's ribs all over again, then Vaozey began stomping his face. By the time she was done, the only sounds he was making were whimpers and groans.
“Miss Svaaloyweyl,” the surrendering man asked, his hands clasped together. “Please, we didn’t know he was a friend of yours. He has a lot of money, and we’re hungry.”
“Pick up your idiot friends and get out of here,” Vaozey hissed. The men who were fully recovered moved to help the one with the knife in his torso, and their leader. Vaozey watched as the man with the kitchen knife in him tried to stand, then fell down groaning and clutching his abdomen. “What did you do to that one?” she asked.
“I put his knife in his own guts before the wound healed up,” I replied.
“Huh, I’ve done that once or twice,” Vaozey grunted, her tone indicating approval. She reached for a small knife on the opposite hip as her mace, and advanced on the kitchen knife man. After shoving away the other man trying to help him, she quickly stabbed her own knife into his upper abdomen and drew it down, then plunged her left hand inside and pulled out the blood-covered weapon. “Oh stop being such a niyzao,” she complained to the now-screaming kitchen knife man, slapping him in the face with the flat of his own weapon and then placing it on the ground beside him.
“Sorry Vaozey,” the man helping him apologized, getting him to his feet as quickly as he could. The group of humans hobbled out of the alley, looking back at me occasionally but saying nothing. Probably should have killed them in hindsight, I thought.
“So you’re a seytoydh poymawpjh or what?” Vaozey asked once the men were out of earshot. I recalled being referred to using the second word before, but I hadn’t known the meaning then. Now, however, I could understand that it was a harsh insult for people who were deemed to have inferior intelligence.
“I didn’t hear them approach,” I explained. “It was my mistake to have coins laying out in the open I suppose, but I wasn't expecting attention of any kind.”
“Yes, it was a mistake,” Vaozey said, staring me down. “At least you know you're stupid and negligent. Why would you even have coins out in the slums? Isn’t that a two-ngoywngeyt?”
“I was trying to create a certain type of magic that one of the Rehvites used on me yesterday,” I said, realizing that perhaps she might know something about it. How do I explain an electric shock to someone who doesn’t know what electricity is? I asked myself. “It stuns a person, locks their muscles so that they can’t move. Do you know it?” Vaozey’s brow furrowed, and I could tell that she lost herself in thought for a second.
“They call it something like Rehv’s binding,” she said. “Why the seyt would you want to know something like that, and how do coins have anything to do with it?”
“I told you, I was trying to figure out how to perform-” I began.
“In an alley in the slums?” Vaozey interrupted, “You know it takes people years to learn most types of magic, right? That's in a proper classroom.” Years? I thought in shock, It isn’t nearly that hard to figure out, why would it take them so long? Vaozey watched my expression disdainfully. “Seems almost like you don't,” she remarked venomously. “Maybe you’re even more gifted than I thought.”
“Tell me, does Rehv’s binding work on someone wearing as much armor as you?” I asked. Maybe it isn’t electric? I thought, Could it be something that affects the nerves directly? Healing magic can affect cells, so perhaps there’s some other way to do so.
“Something tells me you already know the answer,” Vaozey replied, now sounding curious. I met her gaze, but said nothing, waiting for her to elaborate. “Rarely,” she continued, “metal seems to block it. Sometimes it gets through.” Of course, since most humans don’t seem to be able to manifest effects inside of a material, I thought, If the path of least resistance doesn't cross flesh, the spell would be ineffective.
“Rehv’s binding is similar to something from my homeland called an electroshock weapon,” I said. “The energy it uses to lock a human’s muscles travels most freely through metals, but it can also travel through the air and other materials. I was trying to use the coins to make a small spark between them with that energy. I can’t seem to figure it out though.” At my admission of failure, Vaozey’s demeanor shifted to be more relaxed.
“A spark?” Vaozey asked, raising an eyebrow. “Rehv's binding isn't fire you know.”
“No,” I replied, “it’s lightning.” Vaozey sighed, and through her mask, I could tell she was frowning. I suppose, to one of these humans, it might be difficult to believe, I thought.
“Maybe try praying to Zhowneymay for help,” she suggested. “He is the god of harvests, rain, lightning, and deer.” I should have known she wouldn’t be much help, I sighed, I’ll have to find a book on the subject, or just figure it out myself. Wait, deer?
“Why deer?” I asked before I could stop myself.
“Sometimes, when a deer is angry or competing for a mate, small bolts of lightning crackle between its horns,” Vaozey said in a tone that suggested I should have already known the answer to my question. “Do the ones in your homeland not do that?”
“No,” I replied with a shake of my head, “they’re just normal deer.”