Okeedokee, I'm gonna give it a go

[A Wind Rose]

Several of my friends have urged me to write a fantasy story and so I'm gonna give it a try.

[A Wind Rose]

"What is our purpose? Why are we here? Most of you will not be able to fathom the depths of these questions for many years yet. Is it just an off chance that you are who you are in this world? You can die any second…you may consider me to be fatalistic and unbelievable. Everything you do doesn't matter because in one, maybe two generations, all of you will be dead, your names forgotten, everything you've done, every little goal and major hurdle in your life, gone. You are nothing if you don't serve a bigger cause. You may die, but if you die in the service of a cause, you have given your life for something you believe in. You will have changed the course of history forever. A death for a cause does not go unnoticed in the world today. You will be heroes, fighting and dying for what you believe. Such is life in this world," said Tarroc as he paused for a moment. "Many of you are here to uphold the so called honor of your families. Many of you are here for adventure. Many of you are here because there is nowhere else on the face of this earth that would take you. Few of you are here because you want to make a difference in the world. You need to want to or else you will never be able to fully grasp the concept of sacrifice; of giving up your life for something that is worthy."
"Sir, if what you say is true, then why should we not live as if there is no tomorrow and free ourselves from all inhibitions?" Kristin asked. Kristin, a girl worth any amount of trouble. She is intelligent, able to discuss some of the deepest philosophies and psychologies with ease. And beautiful. Oh yes, very beautiful. She was a unique girl that Zack loved for all her peculiarities.
Obviously not conceited, since she'll actually talk to me as a person instead of a fly on a wall, I thought. I really wish that she would actually spend time with me…who am I kidding? I have no problem getting girls, especially girls that have just met me, as handsome as I am, but the one girl that I want, I can't get. Why?
"You can live like there is no tomorrow. We cannot stop you here in the Knight's Eve. It is not our wish that you be restrained; in fact we do not care one way or another as long as you are loyal to Maledar. Loyalty to Maledar and doing your best to uphold the laws of our sovereign land are of the utmost importance," replied Tarroc.
"So doing something that is morally corrupt is not forbidden within these walls?" Kristin asked.
"Unfortunately, while Maledar does not want a reputation for being 'morally corrupt', as long as it is within our laws, we cannot and will not stop you."
Kristin leaned back, a speculative look on her face.
Zack jumped in, "Sir, what you said about not being remembered, not being worth anything individually, I don't believe that's true. Every person is worth something even if they won't be remembered."
"We are not discounting the worth of each individual life. We are looking at each life as a whole and as a part of the greater workings of time. Now if there are no more questions, we will now move to the portion of training that many of you have looked forward to greatly in the last week you have been here. You have spent that week being introduced to the workings of the Royal Army and it's beliefs and laws. You will now be introduced to the means by which you will uphold the laws. Follow me please."

As I left the classroom, I fell into step with a shorter boy with closely shaved blonde hair.
“How are you doing today George?” I inquired. They turned left out of the classroom and followed the teacher down a flagstone floored hallway.
“I’m bored with this whole ‘initiation’ stuff. I’m real glad we’re finally going to do some combat related learning,” he replied.
“Me too, although I don’t think we’re going to do a lot of real work at first…they’ll probably want to start us off slow or something,” I said. I turned left again into a cavernous room filled with wooden weapons. “Hey, look, we’ve got practice swords!”
George picked up one and examined it, testing its weight and balance. “Hmm, fancy a little duel real quick Zack?” George asked with a smile. He picked up its twin and tossed it to Zack.
“I don’t know,” I started to say, but George swung at my left arm, hard. I countered, swinging upward, and knocked his blade above his head. I twisted my wrists around and put the point of the wooden blade at his throat. “Match over,” I said.
“Ah, I’m glad we have two such willing demonstrators,” said Tarroc with a small smile. “As you can see, George was caught off balance by the speed of Zack’s counter and allowed his sword to be moved outside the range of practical defense. Speed is the key in a fight. If you are faster than your opponent, you will be able to wear him down quickly and pass through his guard because he will not be quick enough to stop your advances. Similarly, you will be able to dodge his advances more easily than you would if you were slow. It all comes down to reaction time and training. Please demonstrate a fight again, but this time be more conscientious of what you’re doing.”
George turned to me and raised his sword, pointing away and slightly to my left. I faced him and assumed a similar position. This time we circled, exchanging short blows to test the other’s weaknesses. George was a good swordsman; he kept his balance centered at all times, able to move in any direction. He had very quick hands, deftly knocking my advances aside. He jabbed at my stomach and I parried, swinging his sword up and to my right. I immediately rotated my wrists and swung at his unprotected lower left side. He had anticipated my move and stepped back and to my right, taking himself out of range of my sword. We both assumed the guard position again and went back to circling. This time I took the initiative and feinted at his head and swung at his knee. He blocked and countered with a jab at my left arm. I knocked his blade aside and swung backhand at his head. He crouched and gathered himself and he struck fast and hard at my middle. My backhand swing had been too great, and brought my sword out of line with my body and he put the point of his sword in my unprotected stomach.
“Match over,” said Tarroc. “Much better concentration that time George, but being careless will get you killed. You challenged him and didn’t expect him to fight back so swiftly. That first match would have been your death had you not been just practicing. Then you wouldn’t have even had the chance to be serious in the second round. Zack, your feint in the second round wasn’t nearly as convincing as it could have been. That can be fixed easily, but your main problem here is that you don’t move enough. You try and block all the advances George made on you, while George would dodge the blade and counter. Dodging is preferable in a fight because blocking ties up your blade. Duck, jump, sidestep, do whatever it takes to get out of the way and strike back. One more time now.”
As we assumed the guard position, I tried to watch George’s eyes. His attack however, came so swift that had I not sidestepped, I would have been impaled. His sword caught my tunic and tore a gash in it. He quickly stepped back and assumed the guard position again. As I circled to my left I asked, “All bets off now George? You want to really go now do you?”
“Yes,” was all he replied. I feinted a step in and he took a step back. I switched the direction of my circling and went back around to my right. He followed suit. Then he jabbed upward towards my head. I stepped back and watched his blade flash before my eyes. He rocks back on his back foot before jabbing at me, I thought. I switched directions again and circled back to my left. Careful to keep his sword in view at all times, I monitored his feet. He swung at my left side and I blocked, lifting his blade until it was pointing almost straight up. I stepped in close, and with the hilts locked, elbowed him in the face as I spun away. He staggered back and brought his sword back into guard position. While I was watching, I saw the transfer of weight that signaled he was going to jab at me, so I quickly stepped forwards and to the side as his blade flashed through the air beside me. I swung my sword and stopped it at his neck and held it there.
“Match over,” said Tarroc. “Much, much better job of moving that time Zack. I assume you noticed that George shifts his weight to his back foot whenever he’s about to strike?”
“Yessir,” I said. “It was what allowed me to sidestep his jab and theoretically behead him.”
“Good, good,” Tarroc murmured. “Are aware that you drop your shoulders slightly every time you are about to attack yourself, Zack? Lucky for you, George didn’t notice this time, else the outcome might have been totally different. But in battle, all that matters is winning. Nice job anyway. Now the rest of the class needs to split up into pairs and perform three rounds of dueling. Since you two have already dueled today, please get one of the dulled swords and sheaths and practice unsheathing your sword. You need to practice unsheathing your sword standing, sitting, laying and in every conceivable circumstance because you never know when you might need to unsheathe your sword quickly. I want you to practice with the sheath in your hand and with it on your hip. Get to it.”
I went and grabbed two of the dulled swords and sheaths and tossed one to George. “Not too shabby today George,” I said. He made a face and examined the sword blade.
“I’m more interested in seeing the rest of the class’s dueling than sheathing and unsheathing my blade.”
“Very true. You know we have to do well in the tournament at the end of the course here. We’ve got what, a week? Maybe two before the trials? We need to see how we stack up against the competition.”
We both practiced and watched the rest of the class duel.

[A Wind Rose]

As I was walking back to my room later that night, I went over in my head what Teacher Tarroc had said, “You may die, but if you die in the service of a cause, you have given your life for something you believe in. You will have changed the course of history forever. A death for a cause does not go unnoticed in the world today.” Was it true? Was there no way to be somebody important without dying for a cause? Where were the legends of singular people whose only cause was that of being Right?
No, I decided, he’s wrong. You don’t have to die for a cause to be remembered. You just have to do something so great, so noteworthy that people will speak of you throughout the ends of the earth and say, ‘Now hear the story of Zack the Brave, Zack the Righteous.’ To die in the service of a cause is good, but you will not be remembered except as a name graved on an inscription to honor all those who fell fighting for the cause. I will not be one of those. I will be remembered as me.
When I entered my room, a tiny cubicle, really nothing more than a bed’s length and width square, I flopped down on the bed. I lay back and closed my eyes and tried to deal with the feeling of impending doom, the feeling of being not good enough. Manic depressive, that’s what you are. Always trying to put yourself down, always saying that you aren’t good enough, that you aren’t the best, I told myself. But, I argued back, knowing and realizing that I’m not the best has made me much better. It has made me work to be the best. Without those realizations I would never be where I am today; I’m on the verge in being one of the most elite units of Maledar, with good pay and the respect of all in the country.
A knock interrupted my thoughts.
“Who’s it?” I called.
“Josh,” a voice replied.
“Oh, come on in Josh,” I hollered back. The door opened and a tall, lanky boy of fourteen entered.
“How was your day, brother?” I asked.
“Very educational. We sparred a little, but mostly focused on mental exercises.”
“Mental exercises? What are you guys, psychotics?” I laughed.
“Not quite. I would say they want us to be psychics though. You remember the old stories that Dad used to tell us right? About the way that the soldiers of Maledar would never lose because they could do anything they wanted? About how the could move things just by thinking about them? About the Seedi?”
I laughed again, more uncertainly this time. “I remember. It was only a few years ago that we stopped believing him and laughed at him for it.”
“Well it looks like it’s time for us to start believing again. The things our Teacher did today were proof enough that they were real. He sat on the floor, completely unarmed with all his weapons on the other side of the room. He asked a student to attack him, and when the student did, one of the weapons flew to our Teacher’s hand so he could defend himself.”
“When you say flew you mean he pulled it with a cord or something. Somebody threw it to him, right?”
“No, I mean flew. As in it came by itself.”
I felt my stomach twist. “You know this means the other legends could be true as well, Josh. We could have broken through to a different plane of existence and brought the evil into the world that we have now.”
“I don’t think that’s highly likely. Our Teacher said that there were no other planes of existence. All ‘other planes’ were death, all others were planes of ‘non-existence’. He said that anyone trying to break through the planes would die, so there was no way we could have brought the Tiflingers.”
“Hold on a second here. Why is he telling you all this? Why did he show you all this?”
“Well, Zack, we are apparently the best and brightest minds and bodies out there. No disrespect intended to your unit, but we are the ones with the concentration apparently. They want us to be Seedi. Anyway, I gotta go, I need to go practice.”
“Sure thing, but be very careful here brother. I wouldn’t want you hurt. Now please remove your stench from my room,” I said with a smile.
He smiled back and left, shutting the door behind him.
What is going on here? I thought. We get ‘introduced’ to the Maledar army, which is actually more like brainwashing, and then they try and take my brother, my BROTHER, and turn him into some weird psychic being only thought to be rumors. And this is not even mentioning Kristin. She obviously doesn’t want you, or not as anything more than a friend apparently. You did ask her to go grab some dinner with you, and even that got taken the wrong way. Damn you and your actions. Damn you and your mixed signals. You knew as soon as she said she’d get back to you about the dinner proposition it was never going to happen, you just didn’t want to press the issue and let something like that come in the way of what you have, even if it’s not much. What is my life coming to?
As I lay there, I drifted off to sleep, with images of psychic beings, brainwashed soldiers and a Kristin that was never meant to be going through my head.

I awoke the next morning, before dawn, to the sound of the Bell. The Bell regulated mealtimes. Whenever the Bell was rung, it was mealtime. I pushed myself up on my arms and sat up on the edge of my bed.
Ugh…I got to get to sleep sooner, I thought. Time for food though. What is my life coming to?
I threw on my breeches and shirt and stumbled out my door and joined the throng heading left for the dining room. Many of the other students were awake and talkative, but whenever someone tried to talk to me, all I could do was grunt and keep stumbling on towards the food. When we arrived in the dining hall, I plopped myself down beside George.
“Oh, look at the pretty little boy! He looks so chipper and happy this morning!” he cooed.
“Shut up…please. I’m just a little tired and a little cranky this morning,” I replied.
“Oh whatever could be the matter my little cute child?”
“Well, besides the fact that my friend of nineteen summers is sitting beside me acting like he’s thrice his age and a mother as well, we’re being brainwashed to give our lives over to our country, my brother is supposed to become a Seedi, and Kristin thinks I’m an acquaintance. Damn all four of my problems!”
“Brainwashing? Seedi? Kristin? Man, you do have a few minor problems.”
“What do you mean minor problems? You got something better?”
“Actually I have something worse. You see John over there?” he pointed at a man with wispy, graying hair sitting across the hall, “well, I know for a fact that he’s insane, can’t move very well, and has hemorrhoids. Insane, immobile and hemorrhoids. Doesn’t make for a very pleasant life does it? You have the hemorrhoids, but you’re immobile, so they itch like mad, and you’re insane so you think someone is burning you all the time…you get the picture.”
“Yes, I got it. Thanks for sharing that with me first thing and AS I’M TRYING TO EAT.”
“I was merely trying to point out that your problems could be worse.”
“George, I thank you for your attempt, but you failed. I still don’t like all this.”
George turned serious. “I heard what you heard yesterday. I also think they are trying to brainwash us into giving up all individuality, not just some, but all, and turn us into the perfect fighting machine. Apparently it’s worked so far because Maledar has never lost a war has it? I think the only reason that we haven’t conquered the entire continent is because our rulers are smart. They know not to bite off more than they can chew, so they take a little, digest it completely and take another bite. That way, almost all of our army can stay at our borders while we get new troops from a conquered area to boost our army. Actually, I would have to say Rool, or Lord Rool, or King Rool, or whatever his new title is this week, has been listening to some good advice on how to conquer the world. He certainly couldn’t plan it, so it must be someone else. Anyways, aside from the political aspect of this, I think that the ‘brainwashing’ has worked for them for generations, so why not keep on doing it? It certainly made for a powerful, heartfelt speech yesterday and most here seem to have fallen for it.”
“But not you and me.”
“Ah, that’s why we’re the geniuses here. That still doesn’t explain how I lost to your clumsy self yesterday during our ‘demonstration’. Ah well, don’t worry, I thoroughly expect to beat you today.”
“Sure, you’ll beat me today just as you did yesterday: one time.”
“Whatever. I’m not going to use one of the shortswords today though. I’m going to use my secret deadly weapon.”
I looked at him quizzically. “Why are you acting so stupid?”
“Stupid? I wasn’t being stupid, I was being dramatic, fool!”
“Oh. You failed again.”
“Yeah, I fail again and again just like you do with Kristin.”
“That’s true,” I said. “You would make fun of a man in love? What do you expect me to do? Just walk away? That, unfortunately, isn’t a girl you can just walk away from. Too good to walk away from.”
“Well, sucks for you then, you’ll just be stuck admiring from far forever. Let’s go get in a little early practice. Remember the tournament.”
I sighed and looked down, “Ah well, what the heck, let’s go. I’m not so hungry anymore. All these problems have made me lose my appetite.”

[A Wind Rose]

We made our way out of the dining hall and down an ornate hallway. Every few paces there would be a niche in the wall with a figurine or vase or some other exotic priceless piece. The floor was of flagstone, covered with a thin layer of crystal.
When we got to the practice room, I put a hand out and stopped George.
“That’s my brother’s class. You know, the Seedi trainees I told you about.”
“Hey, you never told me about Seedi trainees. I thought you were joking about your brother. And what do you mean Seedi trainees? That’s just an old story my parents used to tell me.”
“I thought so too until my brother talked to me last night. He came in my room and started talking about all sorts of strange things. They, the Seedi, apparently are real enough. And they want my brother to become on of them.”
“Really? That would be pretty amazing. I would like to have power to do anything I wanted. I really have always wanted to fly.”
“You do remember the rest of the stories right? About how the Seedi were the ones who brought the Tiflingers to our world? About how people could go crazy being one?”
“Yeah, but I’m sure that those were just added on stories to make the Seedi more interesting.”
“Interesting? Who needs to be more interesting when you can do essentially anything you want? How much more ‘interesting’ do you need?”
“Oh, I dunno, it makes them larger than life if they can cross the mortal planes. That’s probably where those stories came from.”
A man, wizened with age but with a keen gleam in his eye stepped out of the room. Looking from one to another he said, “Ah, I’m glad to see that two other students have shown an interest in the Seedi. Although your knowledge of our branch of service is apparently severely lacking, an interest is still an interest. Come in. We were just coming to the practical part of our lesson today.”
Stunned, we allowed ourselves to be ushered in.
“You may call me Teacher. Now, as I had just began explaining to the class before you happened upon us and revealed your lack of knowledge of our workings, we Seedi don’t draw power from anywhere. There is no external force, no external motivation, no external power that allows us to do what we do. All the power comes from within ourselves. You two, as warriors, have some of the concentration needed to channel your energy. Your teacher will be explaining all about that shortly, I am sure, but for our purposes, the students you see gathered before you are the epitome of concentration. Concentration is the key to maintaining a force outside yourself, or within yourself for that matter. You as warriors will be in the thick of combat and will not have the time or energy needed to maintain a force outside yourself.”
“Excuse me sir, Teacher,” George interrupted, “what exactly is this force and power and such that you keep referring to?”
“Ah, if you had allowed me to explain in depth, we would have covered all that you wish to know, and some that you might not wanted to have known about Seedi. The power comes from within yourself. It is literally your energy, everything that allows you to live. A small use of your energy would require a bit of food and water to replace, whereas using colossal amounts of your energy could leave you in a coma like state as your body tries to cope with a loss of such energy. Usually a rest of a day, two at most after such a use of energy will restore the magician to full strength. We have adopted and embraced such worldly terms as magician, sorcerer, warlock and other such names for magic using people because for most, this is the easiest way to comprehend and accept what they can do. Although we do not do ‘magic’ per se, others may see our actions as ‘magical’. What we do is not a magic however. It is a refined science passed down through generations and now presented to you. All you have to do is extend your will, your energy, whatever you want to call it outside yourself to see the effects of this knowledge. Please turn around.”
Everybody stared at him in puzzlement before realizing this last had been a request and not part of the dazzling, hypnotic speech he had been giving. Seemingly at once, all turned. A small stone was floating in midair.
“Now would one of you strong warriors please go bring that stone to me? All I ask is that you pick it up in your hand and walk it to me.”
Unsure, George and I started forward.
“Hey, you want to do this first?” George whispered.
“Hmm, not so glib about this anymore are you?” I whispered back. “It hits home once you realize it’s real doesn’t it?”
“Yep. I’m a coward. I really don’t want to be the first to touch that stone.”
“Sure thing my cowardly friend. I’ll go first and save you the embarrassment of not being able to touch a small stone.”
I strode forward and reached out. My fingers closed over the stone and I pulled. Nothing. I pulled harder. Still nothing happened. I bent my back and pulled with my whole body. Nothing happened. I stepped back from the stone and looked at George puzzled. His eyebrows were raised and he was staring back at me.
“Umm…I can’t bring it to you. I would assume that you are holding it with your power,” I said to Teacher.
“Ooh, very shrewd observation. Yes, I am holding the stone. You exerted a certain amount of your energy to try and take the stone. I just would increase the amount of energy proportionally to make sure you never took control of the stone. The stone is completely surrounded by my energy. Another trained in the use of their own power would be able to see what I have done and would be able to see how much energy I had in my body. Energy freely flows around your body and gives off a shimmering pulsating light. This light isn’t blinding and can be whatever color you feel most comfortable with because you will naturally choose a color that you can see well. For most of you this will mean red.”
He stopped for a minute and gazed at George and me. “The two of you will leave us now. What we are to practice here you will have little to no use for in battle. You will learn of your own energy and limitations from…Tarroc I believe. You are dismissed.”
We both snapped to attention and marched out of the room.

[A Wind Rose]

We went back to my room, as cramped as it was, for privacy. When we arrived, I sat on my bed and he sat on my chair, the only other piece of furniture in my room. I explained everything to him, from the moment I awoke to the time he awoke. When I finished, he sat there for a minute.
“Command?” he said finally. “Who would want to make you a commander?” he asked with a smile. “But seriously, does this mean that the end of training tournament doesn’t mean anything?”
“I really don’t know,” I replied. “I don’t know what he wants me to command. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do as a ‘commander’. This whole thing is too confusing.”
He nodded. “Will you get answers tonight?” he asked.
“I don’t know, but I plan to try.”
“Well, if you do find out anything and can tell me, you know, non-secret stuff, then please do so.”
“Sure,” I said.

We wasted the rest of the day away, sparring lightly right after leaving my room and sitting in the courtyard talking afterward. We discussed everything, from politics to girls, especially when Kristin walked by. My eyes lingered on her as she passed.
“Hey!” George said loudly. “Are you even listening?”
“Hmm?” I said. “Sorry, my mind wandered.”
“Yeah, your mind and your eyes wondered. Good thing she doesn’t pass by too much or you wouldn’t be able to think at all.”
“You know, she has already told me that there could be nothing between us other than friends, and I don’t even think that is going to work out. Acquaintances is what we are most likely going to be. You know, you walk by and say ‘Hi’ and then don’t say another word until you say ‘Hi’ again the next time you pass her.” I sighed.
“Well, I would say I don’t think she’s interested in you then. Acquaintances you are doomed to be, love struck boy. Do not worry, I will help you through your time of need, your time of despair at what is never meant to be. I will go out and scour the city for the best whores I can find and then trot them past you for you to pick and choose. They will keep you so busy that you won’t have time for thoughts of Kristin.”
I just looked at him. He looked back innocently, smiling. I kept looking until his smile faltered and he said, “Alright, I guess I’ll just let you wallow in your misery then. But I would recommend moving on, because I can say, as an outsider, it’s not going to work.”
“Thanks for your enthusiasm and optimism,” I said sourly. I sighed again. “You’re probably right though. From this moment forward, I shall never think of her as a romantic interest again.”
“Mmm-hmm,” he said without much conviction.
“Or at least I won’t make any advances anymore.”
“Oh, that’s believable,” he said. “Nobody likes to be scorned.”
“Your support is overwhelming. Either way, it’s over between her and me, in word at least. My heart might take a little longer to change.”
“Understandable, but overly sentimental. Where’s your masculinity? The part of you that doesn’t care about anything? You’re only eighteen winters old and you worry like an old man.”
“Oh, there’s plenty of not caring in me, but when it comes to people, I have a hard time being uncaring. I guess I care too much, care about what others are going through. And I try and be there to help them if they need it.”
“You’re no fun when you get all sentimental. Hey, you want to go play a game of Tapple? We can run the tables again.”
“Sure,” I said.

[A Wind Rose]

We got up and headed back in the door of the courtyard and went right. We followed the hallway until it opened into a big room. Chairs were scattered throughout the room along with accompanying tables. Other students wandered around, conversing in groups and sitting by themselves marveling in their fortune or wallowing in their misery. We went to the far back corner of the room where the tables became more clustered with four students sitting around each. The Gambling Slant, the corner had been nicknamed. When we got close, George yelled out, “Open table for a game of Tapple?”
A couple of students raised their hands. Choosing one at random, George and I sat down across from each other at the table. Tapple was played with a standard deck of 52 cards, one through ten, knight, queen, and king. There are four suits ranked in descending order: Swords, Coins, Flasks, and Rings. A person must follow the lead card if they have it, otherwise they may play whatever card they want. Swords cut all suits; Coins only cut Flasks and Rings; Flasks only cut Rings; and Rings don’t cut at all. Left of the dealer leads first. The dealer changes after every hand and keeps changing until a team takes 27 tricks. If both teams tied at 26 tricks, another hand is played and whoever takes 7 tricks first wins.
“How much are we playing for?” George asked.
“I figured 2 spots per trick under 27,” said a heavyset man. “We can’t afford much more. We like to play several games, so we don’t have any high stakes games here.”
“No thanks,” said George. “We’re looking to win big.”
“Are you sure? We only have about 120 spots,” I said.
“Hey, you remember that masculinity thing I was talking about? You know you have more money coming, so why not lose it, or double it here?”
“Whatever George,” I said. “If you really want to, let’s go find a high stakes game.”
Getting up, George turned back to the Gambling Slant, and asked again, “High stakes game of Tapple?”
Only one pair of hands went up this time. We walked over to the table.
“How much we playing for?” George asked again.
“Seventy-five spots, flat. Winner takes all.”
“Make it eighty and you have a deal.”
“Done. Please show the money up front. I’m Josey and this is Art,” said the big man to my right.
George pulled out a large golden spot, the equivalent of fifty bronze spots. Searching his pockets, he followed with two silver spots, worth ten bronze spots, and ten bronze spots. Sighing I reached into my pocket and pulled out a gold and three silver spots. Laying the money on the table we sat down. Studying the two men yielded nothing about their origins or occupations. Josey took the cards, shuffled once, cut, and dealt one card face up to each player. George got a Knight of Coins, Art a nine of flasks, me a three of rings, and Josey a four of swords. “Lead first,” said Josey. The player with the highest card could choose whether they wanted to deal or lead first.
George gathered the cards and shuffled three times. He then offered the deck to Art, who cut and handed it back. Quickly the cards were dealt out. Picking up my hand I saw I had a fairly even smattering of cards. I had the Knight, ten, and three of Swords, King and five of Coins, five, six, eight, and nine of Flasks and King, Knight, seven, and three of Rings.
Josey led with the Knight of Coins, I threw the King, Art sloughed a six, and George sloughed off a three. I lead with the Five of Coins, Josey threw the Queen, George sloughed a four, and Art sloughed the eight. Josey lead with the Ten of Coins, I cut with the Three of Swords, George sloughed the Four of Rings, and Art grimaced and threw the Nine of Coins. Back and forth through the hand we took tricks, and at the end of the hand, we were down by one trick: their seven tricks to our six. Quickly we retook the lead with a win of eight tricks to five. Another win of seven to six put us one away from taking home the pot. As Art dealt out the final hand, George smiled sweetly and asked, “Oh, are we one trick away from winning?”
Art grimaced and Josey looked at him sourly. “Yeah,” Josey said, “we know.”
We all picked up our cards and George said, “Oh, no.” He laid the King of Swords down on the table. “Looks like we win. We’ll take our winnings now if you please.”
The two men cursed and eventually fished out the seventy-five spots.
“Very nice, we thank you from the bottom of our purses,” George said with a little bow.
As we left the room, George was idly flipping a silver spot in his hand as we left.
“So,” I ventured, “what are you going to do with all that money?”
“Oh, I dunno. I never really know until I spend it. Half the time I don’t even remember what I spent it on.”
The Bell rang for dinner.
“Hmm,” I agreed. “Well, I’m going back to my room, and I’ll see you later.”
“Sure,” he said absently. “See you later.”
Instead of going to my room, I headed back to the training room. Teacher Tarroc wasn’t in the room, so I idly picked up one of the longswords and swung it slowly in an infinity loop. Walking over to a practice dummy, I looked from the sword to the dummy. Slowly, I sheathed the sword and turned to face away from the dummy. I suddenly unsheathed the sword and spun with the sword in hand and tried to put the tip of the practice blade at the throat of the dummy. I hadn’t judged the distance as well as I thought I did when I turned and I managed to smack the dummy in the side of the head.
“Well,” I said aloud, “there goes any chance of ever talking to you again.”
I turned away and sheathed the sword again. Again and again I practiced bringing the blade right in front of the dummy’s neck. I practiced it closer in and farther away. I practiced it off to my right and left. I practiced until it became reflex, until it was one continuous motion.
“Well, there is something to be said for devotion,” Tarroc said.
I whipped around. He was sitting on the edge of the weapons rack, regarding me thoughtfully. “I thought I told you to come and find me when the Bell dismissed you from dinner.”
“I’m sorry sir,” I said, abashed. “I came here at the beginning of dinner to think and ended up practicing. I didn’t here the Bell dismiss us.”
“No matter. Doubtless you are curious to know what you went through in class earlier today, hmm?”
He paused for a moment and when I nodded, he continued, “I cannot fully explain it, but I will do my best. You are chosen. All the trainees will fight in the Tournament to grant ranking. Ranking only matters in our army, and that’s where most of the soldiers will go. You however are to command an elite group of soldiers. You are to pick three companions, two from your class, and one from the Seedi class that will be graduating with you. Unfortunately, your brother is not one of your choices; our laws prohibit siblings to be in Groups together. You have a fortnight to make your decision. Choose the people you want to travel with, and ask them if they will go with you.”
“Sir, what are these Groups?”
“You will be a special unit, used to carry out small tasks for the army.”
“What? Do you mean we will be the dogs of the army, running to fetch things and such?”
“No. You will do what we ask you, but you will act as a small group. You will be the knife in the dark. You will do the things that the army itself cannot accomplish. You will act when we need subtlety instead of overwhelming force. You will be assassins, rescuers, and anything else we might need. If we need an opposing King deposed, you will be called. If we need a hostage rescued, you will be called.”
I looked at him. “Why me? What was that you did to me?”
“What you did there was pass the Trial. The Trial chooses the person with the most control over their Power and their emotions and tests them. It is rare for someone to pass the Trial, which is why we have so few Groups. There is only one Trial for each class that graduates here.”
“I want George and…”
“Do not tell me now,” he said, cutting me off. “Think about it. You will have special permission to talk to the Seedi class and observe their version of the tournament. In the meantime, you can return to your training with me and work on controlling your Power and improving your swordsmanship. Now, you are dismissed.”
“But sir,” I began.
“Enough, go.”
I rose stiffly and left.




That's as far as I've gotten. Please do tell me what you think if you read it. Comments, questions, death threats, all are welcome.

[Reuvyn]

just beautiful