The Whetstone Fist 2

by Brian K Declan

“Besides your time is insane. I’m sure someone’s going to notice that,” said Clare.

  “Neither of you noticed until I pointed it out,” said Lock.

  “But we were looking for our own scores. The noble houses will have people scouring those boards for talent,” said Clare.

  “Yeah, and it’s not like you pissed off one of the major families like Clare,” said Shela.

  “Actually, he may have gotten pulled into that little dispute,” said Clare.

  “Clare!” snapped Shela, “how could you?”

  “Hey…” said Clare, “the Stanford brothers started it.”

  “And you brought him into it,” finished Shela.

  “But I mean it’s the Stanford’s. It’s not like a feud with a respectable family like the Santi’s,” said Clare.

  “It doesn’t matter, you shouldn’t have brought him into it?” argued Shela.

  Lock started to say something then thought twice. He was not in the mood to get in the middle of two arguing women. Plus, he was smart enough to not sit between them this time.

  While they argued he scanned the two-tiered stadium. Minute after minute, more and more people filled into the stadium. Around the time that the first tier was fully occupied a team of food vendors started to roam the stands. Every few minutes they would break through the steady hum of chatter by shouting some catchy phrase for whatever they were selling.

  As much as he wanted to buy some food or sweets, he knew he couldn’t afford any of that. He tried his best to tone out the delicious smells and the enticing shouting.

  He was doing his best to ignore his stomach when he caught sight of a slightly raised platform on the edge of the arena. He couldn’t make out any faces from this distance but it was clear that whoever used those seats, they were important.

  “Hey, what’s that platform for?” he asked as he got Clare’s attention.

  The girls seemed to finally grow tired of their argument and check where Lock was pointing, “That, it’s the Santi’s private box. Someone will announce the fighters from there. Probably Head-Magister Tempo.”

  “The Santi’s,” breathed Lock through a dry mouth.

  “Yeah, Liam’s brothers are already there. Lenard and,” said Clare.

  “Lucas,” said Lock.

  “Yeah he should be starting classes with us next week,” said Shela.

  “Great,” said Lock. Even if he did somehow get his score corrected and receive an offer he might have insulted the son of the ruling family. Things weren’t bad yet. Heck he wasn’t even sure if he did offend Lucas but judging by the way Clare’s feud with the Stanford brothers started from nothing; maybe he did do something. And from what Clare told him there was little she could do to stop it, apologies did nothing to people like that.

  Insult or not, Lock was sure of one thing. These noble lords or whatever they called themselves had no right to decide his future. Still it seemed that they had that power. But what gave them that power? Divine right, chance or simply money? If it was money, that was something he might be able to change.

  Lock nudged Shela’s arm to pull her away from her argument with Clare, “Can I still place a bet on one of the fights?”

  Shela jumped to her feet and grabbed Lock’s hand, “Of course you can! I’ll show you. Who you going to bet on?”

  If betting was structured like at Bruno’s his first bet would depend entirely on the order of first round matches. At Bruno’s you could place a bet anytime before a match began but there the fights had a loose structure. Nothing like the organized tournament they were at now. He’d need to know if he could place a bet between fights in the same round. Val’n Dare was the only sure win. Gwen Rios, and Liam Santi seemed like pretty safe bets also but they were known fighters. The payout on their fights would be far less than Val’n Dare. Hopefully, he had a later fight so he could use the winnings from some of the other fights to maximize his bet on Val’n Dare.

  “Not sure yet. Can I place a bet mid round?” asked Lock.

  “You mean before the fight ends? No, you have to do it before the fight starts,” said Shela.

  “I know that. I mean between fights. So I can use the earnings from one match to place a bigger bet?” asked Lock.

  “Oh yeah yeah. You’ll be running back to the betting booth a lot but you can do that,” said Shela.

  “Not a problem,” said Lock then he glanced at the end of the row then slammed his eyes shut and used Temporal Slide. In an instant he was ten feet away looking back at Shela as she struggled to keep up.

  Chapter 7:

  Liam Santi was the first match with 5 to 1 odds in his favor. An easy and relatively safe bet that netted Lock two extra shims. Gwen Rios had the fourth fight with 6 to 1 odds in her favor. Two more easy shims. The fifth fight was the big one with 7 to 1 odds against Val’n Daré. That was where he made the real money, netting almost five copper talents. Combine that with the fourteen shims he staked on the bet, and he had a total of five copper talents and twelve shims.

  A little over halfway to paying his entry fee to Waystar. There was only one more first round fight that he thought to place a wager. Even odds and in Lock’s mind it was by far the riskiest bet so far. Damien Castle. He had the telltale signs of a Life Blessing, immaculate skin and a model’s physique.

  He’d won his preliminary duels in the same way as everyone else, but Lock knew a Life Blessing could be extremely powerful in a stand up fight. A Life Blessing made him stronger, faster and altogether better than the average person. According to his dad their greatest advantage was the ability to sharpen their senses. On top of all that some had the ability to heal themselves.

  Since his dad won his fights by moving so fast his opponent couldn’t see what happen; it was no wonder that he gave a lot of respect to anyone who had a Life Blessing. So Lock decided to risk some money on Damien. Just not all of it.

  Lock stuffed the twelve copper shims in his pocket and put his five copper talents on Damien Castle.

  “Hurry up I don’t want to miss the match,” said Shela.

  “You know you don’t need to come with me every single time,” replied Lock with a glare.

  As soon as Lock placed his bet Shela bounced off to make sure she got a good look at Damien before the match. It seemed a bit ridiculous, but he didn’t want to miss the fight either. Granted he was more interested in seeing first hand the one Blessing that scared the piss out of his dad. Plus, he wanted to learn as much as he could about all of the fighters.

  The first round was mostly safe bets but with each round it would get more difficult to pick out the winners. So when that happen he was going to be as well informed as possible. To do that he had a couple goals. Obviously, to watch them fight but more specifically he wanted to figure out their individual fighting style. He also had to determine everyone’s Blessing. That was not hard with the famous fighters but with everyone else he had to figure it out from the type of mana they used or their abilities.

  The only problem was that not everyone used their Blessing. For instance Val’n Dare once again won his match by firing only a single shot of plain mana. The rest of the match he spent wearing down his opponent by deflecting and evading. It was a rather boring match to watch. That said it did reveal one useful piece of information about Val’n Dare.

  His style was a form of sword fighting. It was a variation of what was called slip fighting or slip style. Slip style was a fighting technique of constantly shifting movements that at times made it look like you were falling. Hence the name. The result was that your movements were near impossible to predict. According to his dad the style had been developed by a band of pirates for combat onboard ships. Over time its effectiveness made it popular among most sword schools; even landlocked ones.

  Bottom line, if you wanted to be a swordsman nowadays you practiced at least a little bit of slip fighting. Lock’s dad had taught him the basics since he was a child. Granted his focus was all about learning to keep calm and fight when your ba
lance was compromised. Not like a true slip fighter where they intentionally overbalanced as a way to attack from an odd angle like Val’n. Still he could tell a slip fighter when he saw them.

  He had never thought it was an effective way to fight, because where it may allow you to land an unexpected blow, attacks lacked power. In most of his fights, even those with his father, he realized one of his advantages was power. Combined with his speed and he won most matches by overpowering his opponent. Val’n Dare on the other hand showed him the true potential of slip fighting.

  Not only was Val’n’s movement near impossible to predict, but he alternated between using his spellrod like a sword and using it in the traditional manner to fire mana bolts.

  That ability to flow from the fluid movements of swordfighter into the firmly planted stances he needed to fire mana bolts must have taken him decades to master. Which meant he had been trained from a young age. Just like Lock.

  Still he had yet to use any real magic, which meant the odds were not in his favor. The only indication that Val’n could use more advanced magic was that his spellrod was decorated with some of the most intricate runework out of anyone in the competition.

  As they took their seats Lock bumped Clare’s shoulder, “Hey, can you enter the tournament without a Blessing?”

  Clare lifted an eyebrow, “Technically anyone can enter the tournament. Even us but who would be crazy enough to do that?”

  My dad for one.

  “I think I know a few. Regardless it would explain why Val’n Dare fights the way he does,” said Lock.

  “No way, he must have a Blessing. His mana regen is probably too slow for him to recover between matches,” said Clare, “You’ll see, once he’s forced to tap into his mana he’ll drop out or get beat.”

  “You put too much value in magic. Trust me, he’ll make it to the finals,” said Lock.

  Clare glared at Lock but before she could reply Shela jumped to her feet and started shouting at Damien’s opponent. Or more accurately she booed. She was a serious looking young woman with midnight black hair and stone cold blue eyes. All together she was a stark contrast to her opponent. Damien had richly tanned skin and bright smile. It was no wonder Shela was a fan, Damien was one of those people that possessed natural charm. His opponent on the other hand reminded him of the Ashwisp he fought with Clare during their initiation. Perhaps it was the pale skin or her black painted fingernails.

  “She’s a shadow mage?” asked Lock.

  “Yeah, Alexis Auditore. She’s a year ahead of us. Pretty impressive that she made it this far,” said Clare.

  “Fuck,” said Lock through a dry mouth.

  No wonder there were even odds on Damien’s fight. Shadow magi had some of the most devastating and versatile magic in the world. They could create shadow copies of themselves, absorb some types of magic, and track their enemies every movement. Some were rumored to have the ability to induce fear and panic or enter dreams. Those were just rumors but they were renown for being the ultimate hunters.

  Damien did have one advantage; life mana couldn’t be absorbed and could be used as an effective weapon against her shadows. All in all it was an even match, which meant all of Lock’s winnings might go right down the shitter.

  Damien walked into the center of the arena twirling his spellrod between his fingers and waving to the crowd. He turned his bright smile at his opponent and flipped his spellrod into the air with a casual flick of his wrist. After the spellrod flew in a gentle arc Damien snatched it out of the air and pointed it at Alexis in one smooth motion.

  She just rolled her eyes at Damien and glanced up at the Santi’s private box. Magister Tempo waited for Damien to signal that he was ready also. As soon as Damien nodded Tempo raised his hand and snapped his fingers. The snap seemed to echo around the arena and forced all other sound to fall flat. He snapped his fingers again and the echoing stopped, and the entire arena fell into complete silence.

  The silence only lasted for a moment before Tempo announced the fighters with his telltale enthusiasm, “Alicia Auditore versus Damien Castle,” then dropped his hand in a sharp chopping motion, “Begin!”

  No surprise that Damien was the first to react, he fired off an orb of orange light and charged forward. Alicia hopped to the side and smacked the orb back at Damien with her spellrod. The impact shattered Damien’s mana orb and created a blinding flash of light. By the time the flash of light faded Alicia had rushed forward to attack Damien head on.

  Normally, fighting a life mage hand to hand was a death wish but the sudden aggression must have caught him off guard. Alicia jabbed him in the gut with her spellrod then whipped it up and caught him in the face. Like a true life mage, Damien shook off the beating as if it was nothing and caught Alicia’s next blow with his bare hand.

  The runes on Alicia’s spellrod flared brighter and caused Damien’s hand to sizzle. Despite what should have been intense pain Damien tightened his grip on her spellrod and yanked it out of her hand. She tried to pull away, but Damien was faster. He caught her wrist and pulled her into a chokehold.

  It looked like that was the end for Alexis, but then she sprang her trap. Her entire body exploded. It literally exploded into thousands of tiny black particles. The black particles hung in the air for a moment then all at once they reformed into little needles and shot into Damien.

  He raised his arms across his body then snapped up a makeshift barrier that only blocked about a third of the needles. The rest shredded his cloths and left hundreds of bleeding holes all across his back and chest. The only parts that remained unmarred were his face and arms.

  Even with countless wounds he wasn’t out of the fight yet. Damien swiped his arms to the side to dispel his barrier and stood up straight. Then with a casual flick of his off hand, he flung off his shredded shirt and started searching the arena. He had only made a quarter turn before he stopped searching and pointed his spellrod at patch of shade in the southwest corner of the arena.

  “Really Alex? A shadow clone,” shouted Damien, “You know if you wanted to get my shirt off, you could have just asked.”

  Alexis’s sweet-sounding laughter echoed around the arena, and was impossible to pinpoint, “Don’t flatter yourself, I prefer a man with brains.”

  The stands erupted into a wave of cheers and interspersed bits of laughter. Lock on the other hand only felt a sense of dread. Damien might have the upper hand in a head to head fight, but it did not seem like Alexis had any intention of fighting him head on. She was fighting smart. She bated him into one trap, and it looked like she was about to do it again.

  If Damien ran into the shaded corner of the arena like a bull, he was probably going to lose more than his shirt. More important Lock would lose all of his money.

  “And I prefer a little more light,” said Damien as he started lobbing orbs of golden light all over the place.

  The orbs were a huge expenditure of mana but they hung in the air and did an excellent job of illuminating the arena. Not that it helped find Alexis, but it was a better plan than charging in blind.

  “Oh little boy, scared of your own shadow?” taunted Alicia. Her voice seemed to come from the corner of the arena underneath the Santi’s private box but Damien remained focused on the southeast corner.

  Then without a word Damien broke into a sprint. He didn’t make it more than two steps before a black bolt flew out of nowhere and struck him in the back. Damien fell forward but caught himself by dropping into a roll. As he came out of the roll he sprang to his feet. It was a great move to get him back in the fight, but Alexis was ready. She blasted in the chest by another black bolt. Damien dropped flat on his back, but a for a second time he recovered. He kicked his feet into the air and was back in the fight even faster than the first time.

  Alexis fired again, and again Damien bounced back. Then again and again.

  He deflected a few of her attacks but each time the attack came from a different angle. Even a life mage couldn’t take a beat
ing like that for very long and it looked like the fight was Alexis’s. She’d out played him from the very beginning. He may have come up with a decent move or two, but it was too little too late.

  “Alright, alright, you made your point,” said Damien as he pushed himself to his feet and put his hands up. His spellrod hung loosely from the leather loop around his wrist.

  A long moment passed in silence, but Alicia did not continue her attack, “You have to put the spellrod down, to surrender.”

  “I know,” said Damien as he flicked his spellrod up and pointed it at one of the glowing orbs hanging in the air in front of the Santi’s box. Damien’s spellrod gave off a quick pulse of light then the rest of the orbs rushed toward the one he was pointing at.

  There was no scream or protest, no flash or movement. The lights just collected in the space beneath the Santi’s private box and winked out. When the light faded, Alexis was unconscious on the ground. Damn, somehow Damien pulled off a surprise victory.

  Chapter 8:

  Lock doubled his five copper talents from Damien’s fight and exchanged them for a single silver talent.

  A whole silver talent, it was more money than he’d seen in his whole life. All seventeen years of it, and now all that money was his. It was enough for him and his dad to move into a place with more than a single room. They wouldn’t have to buy stale bread or hunt in their spare time just to keep food on the table.

  Or it could pay for a half-year’s tuition at Waystar. That didn’t even count all the supplies he needed. A spellrod, an auraband, books, and supplies for studying. Heck he probably had to pay for the school’s cloths. And then what? What happen after the first term? Money wasn’t going to just appear in his pocket. He had to earn more. About twenty times more. And his best chance was to do it right now.

  Damien’s fight was stressful, and he almost loss everything. But in some ways, it was perfect. First it reminded him that no matter what the odds, winning was never a sure thing. Second it showed him that his friends picked who they thought would win based on who they liked the most. Not because they were better fighters.