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ownwards when Vella shifted at my side. “Sorry, I’m not trying to make you feel bad, it’s just there’s a lot of assumptions about what you already know before you take it.”
“Looks like I need some Aravisian History for Dummies books,” I said, forcing myself to smile. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. I should check the Celestial Record.”
“You better get to class,” Vella said. “You have Introduction to Battle Techniques. It’s on the bottom floor. Stay in the lounge area afterwards. We’ll meet there for morning tea.”
“OK, thanks Scalla, Vella,” I said, holding up the massive pile of notes and forcing myself to smile. They were trying to help, really, it just seemed that everyone saw this as an exercise in futility.
I found I missed Miazydar’s presence as I filed down the stairs with the rest of the student body. People whispered as I passed, stopping only when I turned around and met their eyes, the sounds picking up again as I went. I tried to smile, say hello as I did, but people just moved away, making it easy for me to pass physically, if not mentally. Then, just as my attention went back to getting to the ground floor, the shove came. For a horrible second, I teetered on the edge of the stair, the illusion that I could stop the inevitable causing my arms to flail and hands to claw at the air.
“Fuck!” I yelped, crashing down the stairs, everything a blur until I landed face down on the ground of the foyer, my notes and books flying up in a cloud. I rolled onto my side with a groan, watching people tread all over my stuff. Just focus on oxygen getting into lungs, I told myself.
What’s happened? Why are you focusing on your breathing? Miazydar said.
I’m fine, I said, slowly getting to my feet, having to snatch back my hands so they didn’t get trodden on. I wasn’t fine, I had to grit my teeth, force molar against molar to keep the tears from falling. I wasn’t that hurt, I’d gone limp enough to not cause any major damage. I started snatching up my paperwork now the crowds were thinning and putting it into a messy pile.
“You’re going to be late,” a girl said as she passed. “Punctuality and attendance are part of your final grade.” Her friends snickered as they went.
“Of course they are,” I said as I staggered towards the nearest classroom. No point in retaliating or finding out who tried to free the way to Miazydar’s side that bit quicker, they were hardly likely to fess up and if they did, what could I do about it? I needed to pass Battle Techniques, get a coffee, then unleash a can of whoop-ass.
13
“Is this Introduction to Battle Techniques?” I walked up to the tutor who was handing out padded armour to a line of students. He turned to look at me, his smile disappearing when he saw me. I took in the bright green eyes and angular features with a rush of gratitude. Merlin hadn’t just left me to my fate, he was here and suddenly I knew everything would be OK.
“What’s happened here?” he said. I winced as those long slender fingers touched my cheekbone and chin.
“God, Merlin, this has been bloody hell. You said to answer the call to action, but I don’t think this is what you meant. The dragon riders came into the shop. They shouldn’t be able to do that, right? I thought it was strictly a one way opening from our realm to the Damorica? And there're spiders like the size of dinner plates and just everywhere in the place they gave us to stay. Like, what kind of insect population do they have to warrant such big arse spiders? And things are weird with Flea, that was your fault by the way. I was finally feeling OK about getting everything out on the table and then, well, y’know what happened, you saw us naked but... Look, I get you had this ‘find your bliss and all will be well’ thing, but I’m not sure how blissful I can be at some kind of really shitty re-run of university, complete with Mean Girls x Hunger Games-style bitch antics. People harming me tends to stem the flow of my intellectual juices.”
“Sorry, love,” Merlin said, with a shake of his head. “I’m flattered you think me a mighty magician but the name’s Keel. I’m a Lieutenant in the Aravisian Dragon Crops and I teach the grounders how to fight and the only bliss I help cute girls find is when they have a lot less clothes on. So, are you OK, Miss...?”
This was the socially determined moment where I replied with my name, apologised for mistaking him for his identical fucking twin and did my best to ignore the torrent of verbal diarrhoea I had just unleashed in the hope that this complete bloody stranger would follow my lead. Instead, I stood there and stared as he continued to check my face and head for injuries. Everything was not OK, I was right back to situation normal: all fucked up.
“Tess.”
“Well, Tess, I think you’ll be alright. Your pupils look the same size and there’s nothing broken. Any other pain?”
Oh, there was a whole lot of pain, but it was nothing that couldn’t be solved with a flamethrower, some of that lovely, obedient, green baelfire from the prince’s manor and an industrial-sized can of fly spray. Instead, I looked across the classroom at the array of students getting ready to learn to fight. Any of them could’ve been the one who shoved me. “What are you fighting with?” I said.
“What? Swords are the main weapon as few here are going to be fighting dragon back. Gotta get the grunts up to snuff for the frontline stuff.”
“So what do I need to do to pass this course?”
“Pass? You beat me in a sword fight, I’m happy to sign off on your passing Introduction to Battle Techniques.”
“Right then,” I said, snatching up a set of heavy reinforced cloth armour. I strapped it on, then tested my range of motion. It was a little like wearing a sumo suit, though I was pleased to see they’d left the joints lightly armoured to allow for good movement. I picked up a wooden sword and a shield. “So, you ready?”
“You sure you’re alright, girl?” Keel said with a frown. It was weird, really, really weird how much he looked like Merlin. That was OK, I was fine with smacking down a bit of weird right about now. I gave the sword a few experimental swipes, feeling for the balance. I was bloody lucky this Merlin-look alike was the tutor. If he was like some of the man mountains standing around the edges of the classroom looking at me with little smirks on their faces, I was likely to get ground into the dirt with just one blow. I looked Keel over as he put his armour on. While I was sure he was stronger than me, he had that kind of sinewy frame that packed a serious punch, at least his blows wouldn’t have over 100kg of momentum behind them.
“So what are we using? A point system? To ‘first blood’?” I said.
He grinned, that smile shockingly bright against his olive skin. His smile widened when he noted my eyes dropping to it. “How about you put me on my arse and I’ll sign you off.”
I nodded and pulled my mask on, pleased when he did the same. He became something else when in the gear, a catalogue of strengths and weaknesses, nothing more than a very mobile fighting dummy. I lifted my sword and shield.
I fell into the familiar stance with some gratitude. I’d been training with a medieval combat club all through university, but couldn’t bring myself to start up again once we got back. It felt good to hold a weapon in my hand. That was the thing about fight clubs, I might need to walk away from people pushing me downstairs, but once you picked up the sword you were given a legitimate excuse to attack someone, and right now, that’s what I needed. I struck a couple of quick blows that Keel easily blocked. He was fast, his weapon moving to intercept mine as soon as my arm moved, but he seemed happy to let me lead the exchange. I shuffled around a bit, trying different angles and combinations of strikes, but I wasn’t going to get past him this way.
Duelling is often really boring for people to watch. Rather than the crazy of an actual battlefield, its two people, well-prepared, striking and blocking over and over. Y’know that ching, ching, ching you always see in sword fights in movies. It gets boring for the viewer, hence why in films they have to add acrobatic sequences, or swordsman clambering athletically over terrain to keep you engaged. But in real duels, if there’s a reasonably equal d
istribution of skills and muscle, you’re trying to force a mistake and then recognise it's going to happen quick enough to push your advantage.
