The Whetstone Fist 2

by Brian K Declan

  When Lock did not hear a reply, he glanced to his side. Lucas was gone.

  “Some people,” said Lock to himself. Maybe it was all those numbers going to his head.

  Regardless he was a weird kid, helpful but weird. Lock may have claimed he had a plan before Lucas suggested it, but he didn’t. In truth he hadn’t known enough about the challenge to come close to a plan. Still it was a simple strategy that played to his strengths. Get in, get the job done, get out. Sort of like him at this estate. No, don’t think like that, he was supposed to be here. He earned this. Fuck, his nerves were wearing out, especially after the fuck up at the tower.

  Come to think of it, Lucas had done more than give him a plan. The conversation was a good distraction to keep him from panicking. Now that he didn’t have that distraction, he was losing it.

  Time to focus.

  His dad’s words echoed in his head as he walked up to the proctor of Thread the Needle. This time the proctor was a pretty young girl with curly brown hair. The kind of pretty girl a young boy might want to impress, and that was something that Lock could handle. No dire stakes of earning a patron, he was just trying to impress a pretty girl.

  “No auraband. My name’s Matlock Sharp, Temporal Blessing,” said Lock before she asked.

  The proctor jotted down his name in her notebook then looked up with a bright smile, “No spellrod?”

  “Nope,” said Lock.

  “Okay well, this one’s pretty simple. Get the jewel, don’t disturb the sand. You’ll be docked for every grain of sand that’s out of place. Understand?”

  “Yeah but what do you mean by docked?” asked Lock.

  “I guess this is your first challenge. You’re scored from 0 to 1000 on all of the challenges. 1000 is a perfect score. With this one you lose points by moving the sand or not getting the jewel. Any other questions?” said the proctor.

  “Yeah, how do we find out our scores?” said Lock.

  “They will be posted in the main arena at noon or after all five-hundred and seventy-two initiates attempt the challenges. Whichever happens first,” said the proctor, “Anything else?”

  “You mean we have to wait to find them out?” said Lock, “The Tower just popped it up. Why nothing like that here?”

  “That is a good question,” said the girl then she raised a single finger, “For a Magister, which I am not. Anymore questions?”

  “Just one,” said Lock.

  “Just a second,” said the proctor as she took a knee and dipped a single finger into the pool of sand. The sand shifted as if a strong wind had come by only there was no wind then the sand settled into a perfectly flat sheet. When it was all done, she stood up, “Your question?”

  “Ah right,” said Lock as he turned toward the pool and focused on the jewel at the center. Then literally in the blink of the eye he Slid to the jewel, snatched it and Slid back to the proctor’s side, “What do I do with this?”

  The proctor scribbled a quick note in her notebook and looked up with a smile, “Do with what?” she asked right before she tapped the jewel with her index finger. The jewel disintegrated into a handful of sand and slipped through Lock’s fingers.

  Chapter 4:

  After a brief bout of flirting it turned out the proctor’s name was Jenifer and she was free later. After the challenges were done. Plus she let Lock take a peek at her notebook to see how well he did on Thread the Needle. A score of 778, at first that didn’t seem very good but when he glanced down the page he realized most of the scores were well below 200. Some were even in the single digits and the guy who used air magic at Breaker’s Tower had a big round zero.

  The most important part, however, was that Jenifer offered to show him around Waystar Academy. He said that would be nice, but to avoid any awkwardness, he left her to run Thread the Needle without any more distraction.

  Besides he still had one more challenge to finish.

  Right as Lock freed himself from the crowd around Thread the Needle, Lucas appeared out of nowhere, “You bribed the proctor?” he asked.

  This kid never gives up.

  “It’s called flirting,” said Lock.

  “Ah, so you made plans with her?” asked Lucas.

  “She offered to show me around Waystar some time,” said Lock.

  “Perfect then you’re free now, would you like to grab some lunch?” asked Lucas.

  “Well no, I have to do the speed challenge,” said Lock.

  Lucas frowned at Lock’s answer, “Just skip it.”

  “Skip it? Why the heck would anyone do that?” asked Lock.

  “Because its impossible, especially for someone without a long range spell,” said Lucas.

  “Still it’s a way to score points. Even if you screw up, something is better than nothing,” said Lock.

  “It’s designed to be impossible. Trust me I’ve done the calculations. The number of factors that need to be perfect makes the probability of scoring a single point less than one tenth of one percent,” said Lucas.

  Lock blinked, “Was I supposed to understand any of that because it sounded like, blah blah, it’s too hard. I’m a baby.”

  Lucas huffed out an impatient breath, “You have to hit a target that’s 100 yards away in less than a second. The average spell travels about ten yard’s per second meaning it will take ten seconds to hit the target. The fastest spells on record travel closer to forty-five yards per second but tend to be much less accurate.”

  “Assuming you overcame the inaccuracy, which I might add, is beyond difficult. Anyway, say you actually hit the target, the fastest spell takes just over 2.2 seconds. That still leaves you with a score of, you guessed it zero.”

  Lock scratched his chin, “If it’s so difficult why have it here at all?”

  “The Endless Hourglass is the only challenge where the completion times are posted. The time matters more than the points. For those who have mastered an accuracy or homing spell it is a chance to show off.”

  “For most, however, it’s a waste of time and is more of an opportunity for embarrassment than a chance to shine. Trust me it’s better to earn a score around 1,000 with no time than to have a perfect score of 2,000 with a time of two minutes,” said Lucas.

  “But 2,000 isn’t a perfect score now is it? It’s 3,000,” said Lock.

  “I… I don’t know actually. I’m not sure it’s scored quite like that, not anymore anyway,” said Lucas.

  “Well it sounds like your complex allegory is useless,” suggested Lock.

  Lucas burst out laughing, “Complex algorithm. An allegory is… it doesn’t matter,” he said then he waved his hand and gave Lock a firm nod, “If you’re insistent on trying, I might be able to help.”

  Turns out Lucas did come up with a complex algorithm. It was full of activation times, cool downs, mana costs and something called Temporal Displacement. Which Lock figured out was just a fancy term for, the thing that made him sick.

  “The trick to avoiding it is to block out your senses,” said Lucas as he took off his doublet and started biting the sleeve of his shirt.

  “I could have guessed, closing my eyes makes it better,” said Lock.

  Lucas mumbled something as he used his teeth to create a long tear up his forearm then he spit out a few fibers and started tearing strips of cloth from his sleeve with his hands, “I was saying, that’s why in some places they call it Blinking instead of a Temporal Slide. The eyes seem to be the most important sense to block but hearing and touch are also a part of it. There is some debate over smell.”

  “Ah, mind telling me how destroying your shirt is going to help?” asked Lock.

  “Can’t do much about touch, but you can stuff some cloth in your ears,” said Lucas as he rolled up a couple strips of from his shirt and handed them to Lock.

  Who tears up their own shirt to help a guy they hardly know? Not Lock. Then again, he didn’t own the shirt he was wearing. Still Lucas was a little overexcited about helping with the challenge.


  “I welcome the help, but I’d appreciate it if you not destroy any more of your clothing,” said Lock.

  Lucas flicked his hand dismissing the comment and started pacing, “Forget about the shirt. How many times could you Slide before you started closing your eyes?”

  Lock almost started laughing, “Once maybe twice if I did it fast enough.”

  “And now?” asked Lucas.

  “Six, or seven,” answered Lock.

  Lucas started rambling something under his breath, “It’s going to be close. Closer than I’d like but there are no more parameters to be adjusted.”

  “Parameters… adjusted… does that mean we’re ready?” asked Lock.

  “Yes,” said Lucas as he stopped pacing and looked up at Lock, “Good Luck.”

  Without another word Lucas turned around and started walking away. Lock turned toward the start of the challenge, then he spun around when he realized Lucas was going in the opposite direction, “Hey, you’re not coming with me?”

  Lucas waved his hand without looking back, “I’ll see you at the finish line.”

  That stinks, but Lucas was right. There was nothing else he could do to help.

  Still that left Lock alone as he walked up to the closest stall, stall six. The proctor who was supposed to be manning the challenge had fallen asleep and was leaning against the wall of stall. Lock cleared his throat, but the student didn’t respond so he walked over and poked him in the arm.

  That got his attention. The proctor jerked backwards, “I’m up, I’m up.”

  “Mind helping me with the challenge?” asked Lock.

  The proctor searched around for a second to find his notebook, which had fallen on the ground. He scooped up the notebook, and turned to Lock, “Where’s your spellrod?”

  “Don’t have one, or an auraband. Name’s Matlock Sharp, Temporal Blessing.”

  The student wrote down the information, but gave Lock a strange look, “You know you have to hit that target way out there right?”

  “Yeah, I know how it works. I’m going to kick it,” replied Lock as he held out his hand to the student.

  “You realize you are being timed right?” asked the student as he fished a simple wooden hourglass from his pocket.

  Lock placed his hand on top of the hourglass, “Yes.”

  “Okay,” said the student then he took on a more serious tone, “The hourglass starts the moment it detects your first activation and will only stop when you impact the sixth target. That’s the one on the far right. Hit any of the others and time keeps ticking. Activate the spell outside the stall and it won’t start. Any questions?”

  “Two,” said Lock.

  “What are they?” asked the student.

  “Will it detect stamina abilities?” asked Lock.

  “Not as far as I know, but I’m not sure if anyone’s tried something like that. What else?” said the student.

  “Can I get a running start?” asked Lock.

  “Whatever man just activate your spell inside the stall,” answered the student.

  Awesome, with the speed boost from Flash Step it would be much easier to cover the distance in time. That is if he could time the first Slide right, then Slide nine more times in rapid succession, and keep his balance the entire time. Oh and maintain enough focus to hit the correct target at the end.

  Lucas was right, this was near impossible.

  No backing down now.

  Lock stepped back three long paces, crouched down and took a few deep breaths to steady his nerves. The last thing he had to do was block out his hearing. He moistened a tad bit of the cloth in his mouth then rolled them between his fingers and stuffed them in his ears. It wasn’t perfect but it worked well enough.

  Do or die time.

  Once he felt his heart rate even out, he sprang forward with the speed of Flash Step. The entire world seemed to slow down around him, turning his peripheral vision into a complete blur but he’d learned long ago how to measure distance when moving that fast. Count your steps. On the third step he triggered his first Slide.

  The spacing worked out perfect.

  All he felt next was the briefest touch of wind on his skin before he Slid again.

  Two.

  More wind, and he Slid a third time.

  Three.

  Wind, Slide.

  Four.

  His eyes opened to check his aim, he was off target but only by the slightest margin. He waited the tenth of a second it took for his foot to tap the ground then he triggered Flash Step again, slammed his eyes shut and Slid.

  Five.

  Wind, Slide.

  Six.

  Wind, Slide.

  Seven.

  Wind struck his face again but this time his foot tapped the ground earlier than it should have. The only thing that saved him was the steady rhythm he’d built up. He Slid and was back on course.

  Eight.

  Wind, Slide.

  Nine.

  The moment the wind hit him the ninth time his balance was all over the place. He’d never be able to correct it in time so he did the only thing he could think of. He tucked his head and Slid.

  Ten.

  When he reappeared the last time, he was so dizzy that the only reason he knew he hit the target was because his head erupted in pain. At least the dizziness washed away the pain.

  In some corner of his mind he knew he landed on his back but he was still too dizzy to roll over. Thankfully, someone rolled him on his side before he started puking. Lucas. Kid was smart; smart enough to know that Lock would need help at the finish line.

  That or he was just curious. Either way he was helpful.

  Some small corner of his mind registered the words, “Holy crap, I think you did it.” But he wasn’t coherent enough to answer. Unless a mouthful of puke counted as an answer. Despite the nausea, vomiting and utter lack of control, he felt a sense of accomplishment. He completed the challenges and rather well in his own estimation.

  Chapter 5:

  After what felt like a miniature eternity of suffering Lock finally regained some composure and sat up, “I’m hungry.”

  Laughter was Lucas’s only reply.

  “Seriously, I’m starving,” said Lock.

  “Well you did just throw up a mountain of… is that oatmeal?” asked Lucas.

  “No that’s puke. It was oatmeal when I ate it,” said Lock.

  “There’s still time before the main tournament starts. We can grab some food,” suggested Lucas.

  With everything that had happen since arriving Lock almost forgot how expensive the food was. No matter how hungry he was; he couldn’t afford to eat. He’d have to hope Clare had something or he’d have to wait till he got home. Hopefully his dad had food ready.

  “Actually I’m meeting someone after this. Do you think the proctor will tell us my time,” said Lock.

  “No,” said Lucas with a certainty, “But you could always try flirting with him.”

  “Not my type,” said Lock with a laugh.

  “Ah so this person you’re meeting is a girlfriend?” answered Lucas.

  Lock sat up, “No, just a friend. Clare Everbright.”

  “Everbright, don’t know her,” said Lucas as he offered Lock a hand.

  “You’re welcome to join us,” said Lock as he took Lucas’s hand, “I’ll introduce you. If anyone is going to understand your algormisms, It’s her.”

  Lucas snorted out a breath but offered a forced smile, “Sorry I’ll have to pass.”

  “Weren’t you the one just inviting me to grab some food,” said Lock.

  “Something came up,” said Lucas with a wave of his and a portal opened up a few feet behind him. Before Lock could believe what happen the portal sucked Lucas up and he was gone.

  The abruptness of his exit left Lock with the distinct feeling that he’d done something to offend him. He was a strange kid, but he was clear about his invite of having lunch together. What could have changed? Maybe Lock insulted him someh
ow.

  “Well shit,” said Lock, “at least that explains how he disappeared.”

  Still it left Lock standing alone in the middle of a field with a growling stomach. Both him and his stomach had to find Clare. Maybe she could help with getting some food. Her dad was a brewer, so probably among the potion vendors. That wouldn’t be too hard to find.

  He was right. The potion vendors were not difficult to find. The booth manned by the Everbright’s was a different story. He searched the row of potion vendors three times and still couldn’t find one named Everbright. Maybe a fourth time would do the trick but first he decided to drain his bladder.

  As it turned out that was the best decision, he’d made all day. Call it fate or divine intervention but on his way to the latrine, he caught sight of a man that was spitting image of Clare. Well, if she was twenty years older and ya know a man. Lock stopped to watch him for a moment. Sure, enough he walked into a booth lined with large casks of ale. That was Everbright, only they didn’t only sell potions, they sold a far more profitable product, beer.

  After draining his bladder, he poked his head into the booth labeled Everbright brew masters. The booth was simple, two walls with six wooden kegs each and a wooden counter in the back. Behind the counter there were two huge full barrels next to a stack of small empty barrels.

  As Lock entered the old man, he’d seen a few moments ago popped up from behind their counter, “Welcome to Everbright Brewmasters. Can I help you with anything?”

  Up close the similarity to Clare was even more apparent, aside from the silver streaks in his hair, and the cheery nature. No doubt he was her father, “Hello Mr. Everbright, I’m Matlock Sharp. I was hoping to find your daughter Clare.”

  Mr. Everbright perked up even more and waved Lock over, “Ah yes, Lock. My daughter told me how you helped her through the initiation. And you did it without a spellrod. Impressive, very impressive. Anywho, she’s getting some food with her friend Shela. They’ll be back any minute.”

  “Ah, mind if I wait for them?” asked Lock.