World Sphere - 45 - Modicum Of Revenge

Chapter 45: Modicum Of Revenge

Callem stayed in Hen’s Hollow with Wynna, while Aelyn, Gareth, and I went to his farm to rest. I laid out dozens of alarms around the property to practice the spell. The one mistake I made was the one in the bathroom. The spell provided me with a brief two-second image when I focused on the specific alarm being activated. It could be used as a peeping tom spell if desired, but seeing Gareth was not the image I wanted burned into my mind, nor did I want to risk Aelyn’s wrath if she found out what I did. 

Feeling mischievous that evening, and perhaps as a distraction from the tournament, I adjusted the privy spell alarm to emit a loud noise when ‘anyone sat on the toilet seat.’  Of course, it was Aelyn in the middle of the night who got the scare of her life instead of my target, Gareth. It was the first time I thought Aelyn might be angry with me. In my defense, Gareth was usually the first one up every morning to use the privy. Gareth found the whole thing hysterical since he knew I had been targeting him.

Gareth and Aelyn practiced with me in the morning after we weeded and watered the fields. They both wanted me to win my next pairing in the tournament tonight. We traveled to Hen’s Hollow for lunch and ate at my parents’ house. 

Freya was bouncing around in excitement, “Everyone is coming, Storme! Well, most of the town! They all want to see you beat the city boys! It is going to be EPIC!”  Hearing Freya using one of the few phrases I remembered from my old world, brought a smile to my lips. It was just more pressure on me.

Freya was not kidding. Almost 100 people from Hen’s Hollow and the surrounding farms were headed to Solaris. Even Mera and Fera were coming with their family. The support was very touching. The field would be whittled to 8 this evening, and then after dinner, it would be reduced to the final 4. I assumed this was to generate more ticket sales revenue. Tomorrow night, the last four would face off, and the two representatives from Solaris would be chosen. 

Freya and Aelyn were talking the entire walk, and it sounded like Aelyn was relaying the fights from yesterday to Freya in extreme detail. Hopefully, Aelyn hadn’t changed anything to get back at me for the alarm spell mishap. 

The city, like yesterday, felt as though it had recovered fairly quickly from the Sadian attack. We learned that our small city was more of a distraction in the grand scheme of the major assault. We primarily had mercenaries raiding farms to keep the population confined while other grander attacks occurred in the skies between, below, and above the islands. 

Callem had informed us it was the most effective attack the Sadians had ever orchestrated, mainly due to the large number of beastkin allies and the plethora of mercenaries they sent against us. Admiral Sebastian was scrambling to repair the Skyholme fleet and rush to build replacement skyships.

The little stadium was buzzing when we arrived. It featured about two thousand bench seats, was packed, and food vendors were walking the aisles, hawking their wares. The entertainment we offered provided a welcome distraction, but also the excitement of seeing the local young men and women show their martial prowess added to the spectacle. 

As I watched the seats fill, I calculated in my head that the city was earning more coins than it was paying out to the winners of this event. Callem ushered Pascal, Gareth, and myself down below to wait for our call. For some reason, it made me think of gladiatorial combat. Pascal was called first, and we watched his match through the bars in the door. 

Pascal surprisingly lost. We were both stunned and he came storming back into the waiting room, “Shittin’ cheater. Used a blasted artificed sword. Callem told me not to use the weapon you made me, Storme. It was bloody dragon’s shit! His sword enchantment hit me like a skyship!”

Pascal continued to rant, and the healers continued to work on his broken wrist and partially healed leg. That was how he had lost—the strength of the blow broke Pascal’s wrist on his sword arm. I thought that maybe Leon had used the platinum he stole from me to buy that artificed sword. Enchanted weapons were somewhat illegal, but I was sure they would find nothing if the organizers checked since his family was entrenched in the city guard. For the competition, there was a gray area on using a magic weapon if it was infused from an innate ability.

I consoled Pascal. “You made it to the top 16 in the tourney, Pascal. Dad is going to be really proud, and it should be something to help you get into a good second-year academy.” If no one sponsored him to an advanced academy, I was thinking of doing it anonymously. He was my brother, after all.

I was called next before I could offer more conciliatorily words. I had to fight the son of the tournament organizer. As I walked across the sand, I ignored the crowd. I soon stood before him and he whispered, “Go down easy, or I will punish you.” What kind of verbal threat was this? 

I replied, “You sound better with your mouth closed.” Maybe I was reaching for a good comeback, but it had the desired effect. Zaneth looked puzzled, deciphering my words for a long time. It was only when the fight started that his eyes widened in realization. I thought I had wasted my breath on a decent comeback. 

Zaneth wielded a long sword and shield, nothing unique and I had practiced against Gareth many times with a similar blade. I was sticking with my staff. We both parried each other for a bit, and I would say we were equally matched, skill-wise. I was waiting for the cheat to happen, and I almost realized it too late. 

He had used some version of a rot enchantment on my staff. The staff was a dungeon hardwood, so it should last a long time, even against steel. When a large chunk flew off when I parried an attack, I realized it. If I wanted to win, I had to finish this quickly. 

Zaneth smirked as he saw me puzzle out what was happening. He went completely on the defensive, waiting for my staff to fail so he could finish me. I backed up, formulating a plan. I saw Mia in the crowd and decided to give her a nod. 

Zaneth was the boy who had been trying to leverage his father’s power to get her to marry him. At least, I hoped she realized I was directing the nod at her. If I took out Zaneth, it would be some revenge for her, even though I had knocked her out in the qualifiers.

I made my move. I launched a flurry of attacks, forcing him to use his shield and blade for defense and to backpedal. When my staff inevitably broke, we reversed positions, and he pressed the attack, overconfident. I waited since he now had the longer reach. I just needed him to take a wide swing... There, I quickly moved inside his sword's arc. 

He wasn’t expecting my dangerous maneuver. I bear-hugged his shield to his chest, pinning that arm, and drove him into the ground with me on top. My weight knocked the air from him. Using my two free hands, I grabbed his wrist, torqued it and forced him to drop his sword. 

I was on my feet in a flash and held the blade to his throat. He squeaked out, “I yield.”  

“I am slightly deaf, speak louder,” I pressed a little bit, tickling his skin with the tip of the blade.

“I yield,” he yelled clearly enough for the crowd to hear. I dropped his sword at his side and started walking back.

The nasty look his father gave me made this worth it. His son had been knocked out of the bracket and beaten with his own sword. I slowed my steps and soaked in the cheers of the crowd. The adrenaline rush and the endorphins from successful combat were intoxicating. 

No! I got control of myself. I planned to make lots of coins and live a luxurious, indulgent, and hedonistic lifestyle. This rush would not persuade me down a martial path. That would be stupid!

I got claps from Pascal and Gareth while sitting in the competitor’s room under the stands. My opponent had fled the stadium in embarrassment. I did find Mia in the crowd, and I think she gave me a nod in return. At least, I assumed she was nodding at me. If the opportunity arose, I would be interested in talking to her to get her story. Right now, I was getting enough adulation from the people from Hen’s Hollow cheering my victory—including the two twins, Fera and Mera.

Gareth’s match was two bouts later, and it was boring. Gareth disarmed him, let him pick up his sword, and then disarmed him again. Frustrated that he couldn’t get a good fight from his opponent, he ended the match. Both Gareth and I made it into the final eight. My family and Gareth went with Callem, Wynna, and Ennet to have a large meal during the break. 

Even though Callem warned Gareth not to eat so much, he didn’t restrain himself, savoring the decadent food. The young waitress even handed each of us a beer, compliments of the tavern owner. I pretended to sip on mine, slightly paranoid it might have been spiked with something. Gareth chugged his and ordered a second, which Callem drank in his stead, to Gareth’s bemused disappointment. 

Freya sat next to me, relaying the fight I had just won in excruciating detail. Everyone in the stands thought I was going to lose when my staff broke. Then I discarded my broken weapon, pinned my opponent, and used his own weapon against him. A story for the legends—the legends of Hen’s Hollow, anyway.

After dinner, as we walked to the stadium, Callem talked with Gareth and me, “Boys, the first-year academy starts in three weeks. I have some of the rooms ready, and when we get back to Hen’s Hollow tonight, you can stay there. After the tourney finishes tomorrow, we will all return to the farm and pack what we need.”

Gareth asked, “Are we leaving the farm permanently?” I think he was also a little peeved that Callum hadn’t praised either of us for our accomplishments so far in the tourney. It was like he had expected both of us to win, and it was not a big deal.

“I will continue to maintain it, heading back every third day to weed and water. You boys have outgrown the place. After finishing your first year of the academy, you will need to make some decisions. I expect quite a few sponsors to approach you, Gareth. If you reveal your healing spell, I expect the same for you, Storme. Even though the Navy needs bodies, you will be shielded from the draft until your 18th year. Hopefully, by then their needs will have died down.”

Gareth was in disbelief, “So after the first-year academy, you will no longer train us?”

Callem smiled genuinely at Gareth, “As long as you are within reach, boy, I will always find the time to teach you a new trick or two. The day that you surpass me is when I will stop teaching you.” I walked ahead and let the two have their moment together. I was not going to be dragged down this rabbit hole of enjoying sword combat—no matter how intoxicating victory was.

At the stadium, there were just eight of us remaining for the two spots in the real pre-Annuals. I didn’t have a spare staff, so I had removed one of my lesser sabers from my storage in secret. I preferred the staff and probably should have found time to get a new one in the city during the break. The stands quickly filled as everyone paid five coppers again to get a seat. I could hear some modest betting going on. Now that the crowds had a chance to watch us, the odds makers could figure out what they were willing to lay for each match. 

I saw my father and Gareth’s father visiting one of them and assumed they were betting for us to win. The environment was quite lively, and I don’t think everyone who wanted to watch got into the stands. It was standing room only, and I noted Mera and Fera were among them. The matches were announced, and I would be first against Leon Mogensen.

The announcer read, “Storme Hardlight of 16 years will be battling Leon Mogensen of 16 years.” I was still fifteen. My 16th birthday was still five months away. But I guessed they didn’t want to say I was 15 and had beaten the guard captain’s son, Zaneth, who was 17. 

Leon had looked worried that I had produced a saber instead of a staff, but now the ginger had a smug look on his face. I was just as good with a saber as a staff, but he didn’t realize that—yet. I don’t think he realized he had defeated my brother, and I now had a chance for revenge for both Pascal and myself.

If all he had was the heavy-hit enchantment, then I would just need to parry all of his attacks, and not block any of them. When the fight started, he came at me like a bull, full of overconfidence. I refused to engage him directly for five minutes, deflecting his direct attacks and using my superior mobility to back away. It was not long before he was breathing heavily and sweating. He didn’t have conditioning even close to mine. 

He started to taunt me in an attempt to goad me into attacking him. “All you can do is run away?” “Too afraid to stand against me?” “Weren’t you the boy who was attacked in the alley? Surprised you lived.” The last was said with a smirk. Of course, he would be foolish enough to admit he ambushed me in an alley and tried to kill me. I just remained impassive and continued to let him attack futilely.

After fifteen minutes, the crowd was becoming restless with my defensive stance, and their support was shifting toward Leon. I wielded just a saber, with no shield. In comparison, my opponent had a magic weapon and a buckler. I didn’t like using a shield in one-on-one combat. If it had been two opponents, then definitely a shield, but here it would hinder my superior mobility and keep me too square to my opponent. 

He finally got a jab that struck home, albeit a verbal one. “Maybe your sister would stand still while I stab her with my sword,” he said pointedly. 

My rage emerged unhindered. I turned to the attack, which caused him to stumble back on his tired footing. I clipped a small chuck off his shield and left my saber out there for him to hack down to the ground and possibly break it. Callem would give me hell for what I was about to do. 

I let him strike the saber; yes, I had felt his magnified blows throughout our fight. As he hit my extended weapon, I used the momentum he gave my sword to pirouette quickly, swinging my blade in a full circle and adding power. 

The fact that I had to turn my back to him in the spin would get me hell from Callem, but I had so little faith my opponent would take advantage in the brief moment I exposed myself. With his shield and sword on the right side of his body, his eyes popped as he realized what was happening too late. 

The speed would not have been possible without his magic assistance. He tried to back up, but his weight was all forward. My sword cut into his leather shoulder pauldron and his arm and lodged in his bone. 

I was slightly disappointed. His reaction to retreat raised his head and neck above my sword’s arc. If he had been just a little lower, I could have separated his head from his body in the swing. Leon’s screams of pain rang out, but the crowd was already erupting in cheers at my victory. I was disappointed but released my grip and raised my hands as the match was quickly called in my favor. No one needed to know I had just tried to kill Leon.

Then the bloody adrenaline rush hit me. The adoration of the crowd’s cheers. The ecstasy of defeating a foe. I soaked it in as the mages tended to Leon. I eventually turned and walked to join my family in the stands, my combat done for the day. I just left my sword in Leon’s arm as he screamed. It was a crappy saber compared to the collection in my dimensional space, anyway. It was an old experiment to increase the hardness of the blade. 

My family hugged me, and I pulled Aelyn into the embrace since she was sitting next to Freya. I didn’t think she was particularly impressed with my fight but didn’t resist the group hug. Pascal mumbled something, which I assumed was a thank you for getting revenge for him. It was revenge for myself as well, and I fell a little short.

We soon settled in to watch Gareth. Gareth’s opponent at least put up a fight—well, not a fight, but he was a big, round boy and could take a few hits. In the stands, the townsfolk were already planning a party back in town to celebrate that not just one, but two of their own had made it into the top four. 

Gareth was easily going to win, and I was planning to bow out of the competition. I had achieved my revenge. After Gareth’s victory, the town moved as a pack back home, and the party started. I saw Callem slipping a large gold coin to the tavern keeper. 

Mera and Fera had cornered Gareth and me, and we started talking. They were excited that they would be joining us at the first-year academy. Being the town heroes for a night was exciting, but I needed to talk with Callem. I found him talking to someone I was not expecting to be here, Mia. Mia was the young woman I had defeated to get into the tournament.

Callem introduced us, “Storme, this is Mia Silverstone.” We nodded to each other. “This young woman is planning to come out and do her first year academy in our humble town. I was working out the details with her. The town charter requires her or her family to be a resident, so I was going to ask my friend Edel Swallowhorn to rent out her spare cottage. Her father has given her the funds, and I was going to set it up formally. Why don’t I leave her in your care for now.” Callem gave me a wink as he left. 

Mia looked at me for a good minute in the noisy tavern before saying, “Thank you for beating Zaneth and making him look the fool. If I were you, I would stay away from the city for a long while. His father is not a pleasant man.” She had a cute smirk on her face instead of the scowl she wore when we first met. She was a head shorter than me, with an athletic build, with rich black hair tied into a ponytail and lightly tanned skin.

“So, Mia, your dad is a Silversmith, and you are not going to follow in his footsteps?”  I asked as I walked her over to my friends.

“No, I have three older brothers, all apprenticed to him. I don’t like the jewelry business anyway. I have been getting into fights since I was five, and the healer’s bills have given my dad a headache.” She was all smiles as she explained. 

“When I learned who trained you and your older brother, I decided to come out here and see if he would train me too. When I heard he was running the first-year academy in Hen’s Hollow, I couldn’t miss the opportunity, so here I am!” She beamed.

We reached the group, and I introduced Mia to everyone. Mia was friendly to everyone, including Aelyn with her indentured mark, which tagged her as a good person in mind. The twins were already excitedly talking with her. 

However, I needed to clear up some confusion. She thought Gareth was my older brother. I made sure to let her know that I was, in fact, older than Gareth by two months—but we were as good as brothers. 

The party dragged well into the night, and everyone seemed to forget that tomorrow Gareth and I had to compete again. Callem came and found us, escorted Mia to her new living accommodations, and said the barracks were open and Gareth and I could go pick out any furnished room. We said goodbye to everyone and went to explore our future accommodations.

The barracks was a long building on the far side of our small skyship dock. The skyship dock was just a square, solid stone block with wooden stairs wrapping around it. It was 20 feet tall, and the top was about 100 feet to the side. The barracks were a stone building about 150 feet long and 50 feet wide, standing in the shadow of the stone monolith.

Gareth got excited. “Look, Storme! Callem has built a new obstacle course here! It looks even bigger and harder than the one at the farm!”  I groaned at the realization that our time in the academy would just be a continuation of our time at the farm. Hopefully, I wouldn’t have to cook for everyone as well.