by Shanon Chong
“What are you hesitating for?” Rachel replied incredulously, irritated by my indecisive nature. Close to her breaking point, she released the iron grip she had held my hand with during our journey through the hordes of people.
Opening the twin glass doors, Rachel marched toward the front desk. “Hi, I’m Rachel Indallias; I’m here to meet Lilia Xarez.” She introduced herself clearly, with no hesitation. The nurse responded to Rachel’s demands quickly, making movements to grab a binder similar to our school’s books. Opening it, she flipped through the first few instructional pages, searching for Lilia’s name in the directory.
“She’s in room thirty-four; she’s on the second floor to the right.” The nurse pointed to the stairs. “Here’s what you’ll need to enter the room.” She passed me a key.
“Thank you,” Rachel replied politely, and then she made her way up the stairs and towards room thirty-four. Reaching out as if to shout, I reluctantly chased after her. Rachel stormed towards the room we were to visit. Plants lined the walls, and small benches had been placed in between for visitors to wait. However, it seemed that there weren’t very many people in the hospital.
Rachel knocked on the door, and a quiet response came from behind the door. “Come in!”
Rachel slid the key through a slot in the door, and used a little force to push it open.
Lily was inside, lying in a hospital bed. “Visitors, welcome.”
“Hello. I’m Theo. Nice to meet you,” I replied, bowing slightly, and then I grabbed a stool from the side of the room and sat next to her bed with it.
“Have you ever thought about the past?” Lily asked quietly, looking me in the eyes.
“Huh?”
My confused reply brought a smile to her face. “Do you know the history of the golden spike?” she asked as Rachel took a seat on a similar wooden stool.
“Yeah…” I responded dubiously, completely unsure as to the purpose of her question.
“The symbol of peace, welfare, and the right to live,” Lily muttered. “Does the actual spike have any significance? Or was it the person wielding the weapon?”
“The spike itself has no value; it’s the name behind it that matters,” Rachel replied.
“Now the spike itself is the embodiment of the Enforcers,” I stated, quickly getting the simple information out of the way. “During the Essence Wars, the only person to mediate the battle was the master of the golden spike.” I forged onward, having a relatively decent knowledge of the subject at hand. The Enforcers worked as mediators in wars and were elected by the official representatives of each nation. The job of the Enforcers was to merely keep wars and conflicts within two nations, preventing many world wars from occurring. Historically, however, the consequences of violating the Enforcers’ rules were dire. An entire magic-faring nation could be eradicated by only two of the Enforcers.
“Indeed, you are correct. However, the master of the spike, whose name has been lost, in several short decades, mediated more wars than any other on the planet,” Lily continued, losing herself as she spoke. “I don’t think I got your names.”
I had already given it to her, but I told her again anyway.
“I’m Theodore Chrono; the girl behind me is Rachel Indallias.”
“Lilia Xarez. Feel free to call me Lily.” She paused as she sat upright on the hospital bed. “Anyway, how can I help you?”
“We just came to check up on you, but I enjoyed the history lesson.”
“Really?” she replied, slightly confused. “Well…firstly, I like the history of the Essence Wars. And I feel a sort of empathy with everything that happened to the warrior of the golden spike now.”
“Empathy?” Rachel inquired, letting me take a break from speaking.
“His background was rather rough. I can’t say I was born in the arctic tundra, but I definitely had a difficult childhood. And now it seems like I have gotten stabbed in the back.” She laughed, as the literal wound was still visible from the knife used yesterday.
“Anyway, are you okay?” Rachel asked. “Physically and mentally?”
“I’m fine; Mrs Indallias did a great job of stopping the corruption,” Lily replied, reassuring us with several stretches revolving around her abdominal area to show us the continued functionality of her midsection. Rachel and I reached over to stop her when she attempted to continue due to concerns about the damage already done.
“On another note…” I interjected, touching Lily on the shoulder as I leaned over to whisper the situation into her ear, “you weren’t fighting Diana.”
“That’s all?” Lily looked at me. “I already knew that. Diana wouldn’t use darkness magic unless her life was at risk. I mean, she’s quite the naïve type… She wants to be an Enforcer herself.”
“An Enforcer?” I asked, “Wouldn’t a job on the council be more realistic?”
“I have never questioned my friend’s dream.” Lily laughed. “Don’t tell her I told you, though, she would actually stab me if she knew.” Lily gulped jokingly as she looked at a nicely painted red clock on the wall. “You two better start moving; you’ll be late for classes.”
“You’re right,” I muttered, looking at the clock. “I guess we have to go.”
“Have fun with your first day!” Lily said as Rachel dragged me out of the room.
The crowds were already thinning, which made our journey back to the school simple. The school’s courtyard, though, was now packed with second and third-year students chatting outside after they had had breakfast. I realised that if both Rachel and I turned up empty-handed on the first lesson, we’d probably face some form of corporal punishment.
“You have a pocket watch?” I asked Rachel as we scaled the stairs to the fourth floor. “We should probably get our books,” I suggested as we reached the path leading directly to the main building.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Rachel retorted, pulling out a golden watch. “We have about twenty minutes.” Engraved into the gold were Rachel’s initials, and a small painted bird decorated its front. Reaching the door to our room, I slid the key into the finely cut keyhole. The satisfying click before the door opened calmed the two of us slightly.
“You think we’ll need our pens?” I asked, grabbing the feathered top to the quill and shoving it into the blazer’s chest pocket.
“Here’s your book,” Rachel declared, ignoring my question as she placed it into my hands.
“Thanks.”
We left the room and experimented with the twisting labyrinth of the school. We traversed the stairs downwards, reaching the first floor. Rachel, knowing the rough layout of the building, guided me to the room.
The polished wooden door beckoned for us to enter the classroom. Rachel and I walked forward in unison, entering the room. It resembled a lecture hall, with seats elevated on incrementally higher levels. Students had already populated the room, leaving Rachel and I to fend for ourselves. Taking a seat in the convenient front row, we placed our books and pens on the table. The loud chatter echoed in the class, and the other students creating friendships within the first few minutes of their school life echoed off the walls
“Everyone, shut up!” An authoritarian bellow silenced everyone within the room.
The person who had yelled had a solid build and dark hair cropped close to his head. The outfit he wore was that of a teacher’s: a dark robe with a thick gold trim around the edges. “My name is Bill Rhimmage,” he declared, writing his name in messy Arcanan on the blackboard. He paced around the room silently before suddenly deciding on something. “Do you guys want to do something physical or sit around and take down board notes?”
Our class, comprised of relatively talkative and unique members, made their decision quickly.
“Are we going by vote?” one of the students chirped. The student’s visage was unique in contrast to everyone else’s I had seen so far. Green hair and darker tanned skin made me wonder as to where he was from.
“Ah, I’ll
be getting used to your names. However, for the most part, I have remembered them. To answer your question, Noel, yes, it will be by vote.”
The whispers now escalated in volume. The debate reached a point where Mr Rhimmage felt it was ripe to request our input. “Well, I’ll start now. If your vote is a physical activity, raise your hand.”
In seemingly practised unison, all of our arms rose the moment he finished saying “hand.”
“A unanimous vote. Well, let’s go to the Battle Dome,” he said, finally revealing the “physical activity” he had offered.
Our synchronised marching through the halls seemed stiff and unnatural as we approached our intended target. The collective unity left several students laughing as we entered the Dome.
“Damn, Rhimmage, tamed another group, eh?” a student hollered. Mr Rhimmage regarded him with a similar fervour.
“Nah, just letting them let some steam loose,” Mr Rhimmage replied. “Well, I also want to get a gauge on where they all sit.”
“The first time you tried the idea was for the slight entertainment value, right?” the student commented.
“Well, it was my second-year teaching… To be honest, I was really bored.” He chuckled nonchalantly. “Anyway, want to watch?” He turned to give us instructions.
“Yeah, sure.” The student sighed. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”
“Right! Back on track. Do any of you actually have your books on you?” Mr Rhimmage asked, and the collective shaking of our heads gave him the answer. I regretfully thought about the leather-bound manual I had left on the classroom desk. “I guess you’ll all have to register manually…” he muttered, annoyed. “Anyway, the registration desk is west of the arena.”
Marching towards the north point of the arena, Mr Rhimmage began talking to a receptionist at the desk stationed there.
“Should we go sign ourselves up?” Noel asked the class… Well, I assumed his name was Noel. Other students nodded and followed him towards the booth that proudly displayed “Registration” on a nearby sign. The registration seemed irrelevant; however, its purpose would become clear during the third year. The student who had landed the job of operating the registration desk sighed upon seeing our numbers.
“Here to register yourselves?” he inquired politely as we approached, ridding his face of the grimace that he wore. “Here’s the required paperwork.” He presented us with a stack of separate single sheets of paper. “For the parts that require blood, there are clean knives that can be borrowed.” He returned a small single-sided blade on the table in a rack. Our class flocked over to the papers; grabbing two, I placed one in Rachel’s hand before she reached the table.
“Thanks,” she muttered, surprised.
Looking over the paper, I realised its conditions were limited. All it asked was that all students maintain and respect the rules of the Dome. Understanding that this was necessary, I skimmed through the rest with little care. Walking back to the desk, I retrieved one of the knives and prepared a long bandage to avoid staining my clothes with my blood. Finding the rune I needed, I aimed my thumb carefully above it, and pulling the knife across my fragile skin, I let a single drop fall. A red cloud floated upward as the seal closed itself around the droplet. Tightly binding the wound on my thumb, I kept the bleeding to a minimum.
“Here’s my form.” I smiled politely as I handed the student my paper, which I had rolled into a scroll.
“Thank you.” He paused slightly as he read my name. “Theodore Chrono.” He returned a smile as he saw mine.
Behind me, Rachel threw her folded form at the receptionist. Surprised, he threw out one hand and caught it. “Thank you… Rachel Indallias,” he said, chuckling under his breath, reading the small lettering.
“Rachel, you don’t have to be rude,” I joked as I patted her on the back.
“I’m just having a little fun,” She replied, pausing before noting, “Mr Rhimmage is back.”
I followed her over to him.
“Done?” Mr Rhimmage commented as we stopped before him.
“Anyway…” he muttered uneasily at our silence, “I’ll set some basic rules… We’ll play by first to surrender or first incapable of movement for ten seconds. Let’s start with Theodore and Noel.”
Chapter 6: Fighting the Twins
Noel’s light-green hair swayed with the slight gust of wind that blew through from the entrance. His medium-length, uncut hair covered his eyes, obscuring his expression. Of course, that wasn’t the case; hair wouldn’t stop anyone from reading his cocky grin, his teeth shining pearly white against his tanned skin. Brushing his hair to the side, his grey eyes stared me down, undermining me without speaking a single word.
“So, you’re going to win, eh?” I tossed at him jokingly, hoping to incite a response from the arrogant yet feeble and sickly-looking mage before me.
“Win? You can’t beat me unless you’ve studied up on wind magic.” He laughed. “However, that’s impossible.”
“Ah, well…I probably won’t use water magic, then…” I muttered, annoyed. If I’d had to pick a specialty among the basic elements that existed, water would have been my strongest.
“I wouldn’t want you handicapping yourself; you’re already going to lose…” He cackled, though his arrogance was completely baseless so far.
“I’m merely speculating as to what I might do.” I smiled widely, returning his gaze. I drew several runes on my arm, all of them entirely meaningless. Lifting my head, I glanced upward, catching snippets of his expression, the desperation in his eyes as he tried to discern what I had written so quickly on my arm. Sliding down the blazer sleeve, I concealed what I had written.
“What was that?”
“Nothing, merely a façade.” I paused and took a breath. “A lie, you could say,” I uttered, letting him wonder what was running through my head.
“Should we begin?” he nagged impatiently.
“Wait a bit. You can’t be getting impatient now,” I chided him. My own mental state was reaching its limits as I played around with Noel’s mind, hopefully creating a path to victory.
“Why are we waiting?” he asked, confused, tilting his head and marching forward to confront me. “Is this some sort of ploy for time to prepare?”
“No…no, no, no. It seems that you have misunderstood me. I’m giving you time to prepare.” I taunted, waving a red cloth at Noel’s bull-like rage.
Reaching his limits, he opened his tome, pointing its spine toward me before opening it. Its evergreen and golden cover gave a feeling of wealth.
“Spirits that guide the wind…” Noel chanted dully, no longer waiting and playing by my parameters, “I demand your strength to achieve conquest!” His incantation finished. The wind within the dome began to physically move the several items that weren’t bolted down. The tornado spun with fervour. Noel, no longer wanting to hear my petty insults, had already begun casting a second spell.
Braving the winds, I walked towards the tornado. Of course, I deeply regretted this later. The tugging of the wind forced me to play a game of push and pull to maintain my position. Noel, still chanting under his breath, was holding his now-glowing tome. A heavenly light bathed the arena, and the tome threw out several tendrils of golden wind, catching me before I could walk past the tornado.
Now lying on the floor, I remained completely immobile, bound by the golden chains of wind and constantly bombarded with the tornado’s rough and dangerous gale. I felt lightheaded after several seconds of sitting within the whirlwind’s embrace; I was constantly winded by the lack of breathable air in the area.
“You’ll pass out in a minute if you don’t surrender,” Noel stated as he crouched next to my bound body.
“I think a minute is pushing it already…” I muttered, straining my neck to look him in the eyes.
“Well, I think it would be better for you to surrender,” he proposed, completely safe from his own creation.
“Anyway, can you read runes?” I bega
n remembering the runes I had drawn on my arm.
“I can, probably better than you.” He puffed out his chest and arrogantly looked down on me.
“Well, I’ll copy what I wrote on my arm on the ground.”
“That won’t save you… You won’t even be able to trigger it.”
“Are you saying you aren’t curious?” I lured him in slowly with the words I spoke.
“I am curious. That’s why I’m not putting you in a chokehold.”
“How generous of you,” I murmured, drawing rough representations of the runes on my arm on the ground. “Can you even read these?” I challenged, knowing the runes I had drawn were likely on the harder end of his limited runic knowledge.
“Water won’t be able to break the chains of wind.”
“Boy, are you stupid…” I chuckled, using my palm to erase the runes I had drawn, breaking the lock on the magic I would use to escape. “Water won’t break the chains or the tornado…” I declared, watching the air containing me slowly get consumed by an inferno. I rose like the god of hell itself, bathed by flames. My demonic grin spread across my face as horror consumed Noel’s petty arrogance.
“Y-you drew the wrong runes on the ground. Y-you lied!” he stammered, desperately searching for any excuse to dismiss his previously arrogant movements.
“Would you like to read them yourself?” I chuckled, revealing my arm and showing a one-for-one replication of the runes on the ground where I had lain immobile. The runes directly translated to “A sea of demonic flames,” and I did not explain them to Noel. He remained bewildered by them; I guessed he’d interpreted them as “Great Oceanus’s seas.”
“Y-you tricked me!”
“Keep thinking that, will you?” I retorted, forgetting that his fragile pride should remain intact for the remainder of the year to be exploited another time. I looked at the remnants of his now pitifully small tornado.
“You’re still going to lose!” Noel shouted as he flipped through the pages of his tome.
“How about I use your own tornado against you.”
