by Jeff Gunzel
Ozryn picked up one of the practice swords and held it above his head, point facing out with his legs slightly apart. Viola recognized this stance as something she and Thatra had worked on extensively. It was a neutral stance, equally perfect for either attacking or defending.
“Weapons up!” the man barked. Wooden swords rose into the air, the warriors’ stances loose and awkward as they tried to mimic what Ozryn was doing. Only Viola and Umoro seemed to have some grasp of how to properly hold a sword.
“Look around you,” Ozryn said, using his weapon to point. “This sand, these walls, they may very well be the last thing you see before you leave this world. But it is my job to help ensure that day is delayed. By the time your training is through, you will have been transformed from commoners and petty thieves into finely tuned instruments of death. Perform well and your debt to our fine society will be paid in full. Perform poorly, and your live is forfeit. The stakes don’t get any higher than that. Commit fully to my teachings, and perhaps a few of you will survive.”
The next several hours were spent drilling the same three sword strikes, along with their counter defenses, over and over. The work was tedious and executed at a high pace. But by the end of the session, which lasted several hours, each of them could perform these basic strikes in their sleep. Having worked so extensively with Thatra, Viola could appreciate Ozryn’s teaching style. He was a barbaric brute who was hard on the eyes even on his best day, to be sure, but he had a clear understanding of how to quickly advance novice swordsmen: Teaching only a few tactics at a time, then beating those tactics into their muscle memory with nonstop repetitions.
Hours into the drill, their practice blades still sliced the air in unison while Ozryn barked out timed commands. Again Viola found herself thankful for Thatra’s training—not just the skill with a blade, but the nonstop drills that helped her build up some resistance to this intense training. The practice swords were far lighter than real ones, but after wielding them for hours straight, slashing the air in the exact same patterns again and again, they might as well be made of stone.
“Halt. Lower your weapons,” Ozryn called out—a simple command, yet one that brought on a collective sigh of relief. Drenched with sweat, Viola resisted the urge to lean on her sword for added support. More than aware of her own fatigue, she glanced over at Kalmton with concern. Gasping for air, drops of sweat dripping from the tip of his nose, he didn’t look good at all. She felt sorry for him. His conditioning was far too poor to handle this pace. It was going to be a long day for him.
“Now we will move on to live combat,” Ozryn said, marching up and down the line to assess the shape they were in. “It’s time to apply what you’ve learned.” Hands on knees, mouths open as sweat-drenched hair clung to their faces, they were in exactly the shape he expected. Even Umoro was sucking wind, running a large hand across his face to remove the salty sting from his eyes. Ozryn started by pairing Viola and Salina together, then led them away from the others.
“You’re number one,” he said, poking a stout finger into Viola’s chest. “And your number is two.” He jabbed Salina with the same finger. “When I call your number, you attack. But I don’t want to see anyone getting creative out here. We learned only three strikes today along with their counters, remember?” They each bobbed their heads. After drilling the same motions that many times, it was possible they would remember them for the rest of their lives. “Good. Now remember, those are the only strikes permitted. All the same, when it’s your turn to defend, these are the only strikes you should be expecting. Understand?” Again they nodded their understanding.
“When it’s time to switch, you will change partners with another. Since there is an odd number of you, I would suggest the spectator use the opportunity to catch his breath.” He turned away to go pair up Nald and Umoro and give them the same instructions. Kalmton would be the first to sit out, getting a much-needed breather.
“How are you holding up?” asked Salina. She looked exhausted, a hand falling to her knee as she leaned on her sword. Her weapon seemed to be the only thing holding her up at the moment.
“At least as well as you are,” Viola replied, concerned for her friend.
“Oh, don’t count an old woman out just yet.” Salina pushed off the blade in order to stand up straight with her messy hair flailing out wildly. Viola could only assume she probably looked the same. It had been a grueling day so far. “I still have a few tricks up my sleeve, within the given rules of course.” She winked, then raised her sword up over her head.
Seeing her friend holding that stance, weapon raised high above her head and ready to strike, a horrible vision flashed across Viola’s vision: Salina’s face covered in blood, her broken body contorted, bent unnaturally and sprawled across the sand. Her lifeless eyes wide open, judging, hating Viola for taking yet another innocent life. “No... No, I won’t!” Viola shrieked, dropping her weapon as she backed away. “I won’t do it. Not again!”
“What the hell is going on over there?!” Ozryn called back, annoyed by the women’s sudden outburst.
“Nothing,” Salina called back, rushing up to Viola. “Viola,” she rasped right in her face. “What’s gotten into you? What’s wrong?”
“Wh-What if they do it again? What if they make us fight to the death? I won’t do it. I won’t. Not again. Never again.” Her desperate words came out in a broken rush.
“Viola, they’re not going to do that a second time. Look around you. We’re all that’s left. I promise you there is nothing to worry about.” Viola sighed, but was willing to take Salina’s word for it. The horrible memory was just so fresh in her mind.
“Look at me,” the older woman urged. Viola looked her right in the eyes. “You’ve got to get past this. I know what we did was awful, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, but you have to move on. If you don’t let this go, it will consume you. Do you understand?” Viola nodded.
“Good. Now I want you to concentrate on me. Put all your effort into our sparring. Let your mind focus on that and nothing else.” She snapped her fingers and turned away. “This old woman has yet to show you what she’s made of.” That made Viola smile. In a motherly way, Salina was good at calming her down when she needed it most.
“Two!” shouted Ozryn.
Salina lunged, the tip of her weapon stabbing straight in. Viola raised her sword, slapping the thrust upward at the last second. She really hadn’t been ready, but that didn’t seem to bother Salina. “You tried to cheat,” Viola accused, grinning at the close call.
“No, you weren’t paying attention,” Salina corrected. “The enemy won’t wait until you’re ready, so why should I?” Her blade snapped crossways, aiming for the side of Viola’s head. Their weapons cracked as Viola intercepted the strike. After training with Thatra for so long, Salina’s strikes seemed slow and soft in comparison. Of course, they were both tired from the morning-long drills and all the repetition that went with it. Wit their arms numb and lungs burning, it was possible a child had more strength than either of them at this stage of the day.
Reversing her body’s momentum, Salina spun around and brought her blade straight down in a chopping strike. Viola’s weapon seemed to drift straight towards it, smooth as silk yet with a speed far superior to what Salina was capable of. Crack. Effortlessly intercepting the downward strike, Viola held their blades, locked up over their heads. Salina couldn’t help but chuckle as they stood there face to face.
Salina’s permitted maneuvers had now been spent. The downward thrust was the last of three practiced techniques that day, and Viola had blocked each with minimal effort. It was only at this very moment that Salina realized how completely outmatched she was. With the element of surprise now gone, there was no doubt she wouldn’t land a single blow against Viola. But that didn’t mean the drill was over. Outmatched or not, she still needed to try.
In a flurry, the old woman pressed with her limited arsenal. Spry for a woman of her years, she twisted and tu
rned her body, trying to confuse her opponent. But ultimately, the downward slash, sideways slash, and forward thrust were all Viola had to worry about. No amount of misdirection was going to work when your opponent was nearly certain of the eventual strike.
Their swords clacked away, hollow pops filling the air as Salina pushed forward with every three-strike combination she could come up with. But this novice drill was child’s play for Viola, basic strikes she had seen hundreds of times already, and those from a skilled warrior.
Frustrated, Salina slashed low, seemingly going right for Viola’s knee. As instinct took over, Viola drove her weapon down to intercept. Trying to capitalize on the feint, Salina ripped up and sideways, certain she had her opponent caught this time. But with lightning quickness, Viola’s weapon beat hers to the open spot. Intercepted with a vicious slam, Salina nearly lost her sword altogether. The vibration rattled her hands, numbing her fingers.
“You cheated!” Viola accused, leaping back with her weapon high and ready.
“I improvised,” Salina explained, her lips puckering in an attempt to look hurt by the accusation. “Had I actually landed that knee strike, then I would have broken the rules. I’m sorry if you thought I cheated.” She tapped the side of her temple with the hilt of her weapon. “Sometimes the eyes play tricks. When you’re my age you’ll understand.”
Viola laughed so hard she bent forward, her hands falling to her knees. The more she got to know Salina, the more she liked the old woman.
“One!” Ozryn boomed, signaling the switch from offense to defense.
Salina blinked, suddenly finding herself staring at the tip of Viola’s sword only an inch from her nose. She looked past it to see her grinning opponent. The forward thrust was perfectly legal, but she never saw it coming. “The enemy won’t wait until you’re ready, so why should I?” Viola repeated her words. “And don’t say I cheated just because you weren’t ready.”
With an upward thrust, Salina slapped the blade away and took a step back. Raising her weapon, she taunted Viola with a few blown kisses. “You had me,” she admitted, the two women beginning to circle each other. “I’m afraid you won’t be getting another chance like that anytime soon.”
Salina could only hope she sounded more confident than she felt. So far, she hadn’t touched Viola once. Now she would have to defend against her for the same amount of time. Was she even capable of holding Viola off that long? It didn’t matter. Both would get better from the hard practice, and both were having fun feeding off each other’s energy.
“Halt,” said Ozryn, just as Viola stepped in to throw her first strike. They froze in place, then looked at the man as he approached. It was hard not to feel a bit disappointed. “You,” he pointed to Salina, “go finish with Kalmton over there.” Kalmton still looked tired, sitting on the sand with his legs crossed. But he looked better than before. The rest had obviously done him some good, and he was probably capable of some full-contact sparring by now.
“And you, come take a walk with me,” he said to Viola. Viola watched his eyes flicker up over her head. She glanced up to see Kuuma looking down at them from his perch at the edge of the pit. How long had he been up there? She hadn’t noticed him until now. Kuuma nodded to Ozryn, then backed away from the edge, disappearing from view.
Unsure of what was going on, Viola walked across the hot sand beside Ozryn. No longer occupied with sparring, she got a chance to focus on the others. Umoro and Nald were engaged in a spirited session of their own. Umoro pressed hard, hitting his weaker, less skilled opponent nearly at will. Viola cringed at Nald’s bloodied face, the result of accumulating blows that almost always seemed to land clean. To his credit, Nald hung in there while eating the hard shots, many of which were not part of today’s learned techniques.
“I am impressed with the way you handled yourself,” said Ozryn, keeping a watchful eye on the others while the two of them walked. “You are even better than I was led to believe.”
“I had a good teacher,” Viola said, unsure of how much she should admit to this man.
“I would say you have at least a year of experience under your belt. Your balance is good, your timing and anticipation are excellent.” Before training with Thatra, she had never even held a sword before. It had only been a little over a month since touching one for the first time, but she decided to keep that detail to herself. The less he knew about her the better. “But that’s still not good enough, I’m afraid.” Confused, she glanced up at him but said nothing.
“If you were one of the regular prisoners sentenced to fight in the pit, none of this would matter. But your role here is much bigger than that. Your presence alone casts quite a shadow when compared to the rest.”
“We were told that we are all equals,” Viola pointed out, concerned she might be overstepping by speaking up on the matter.
Ozryn laughed, his hands smacking the sides of his belly. “That old rule used to be true. But everything changed the day they brought you here.” He looked down at her, lips tight as if trying not to grin. “There was another exception to the rule. Perhaps you know of whom I speak?”
“No,” she lied, eyes down, not wanting to look him in the eye.
“Have it your way, then. But I think we both know better than that.” He laughed again when she still couldn’t meet his knowing gaze. “A beast, they said. A mutation of nature that couldn’t be tamed. Although there may have been some truth to these accusations, I tend to disagree. For you see, I am the one who trained that monster. And now I am charged with training you.” Viola tried to steady her breathing as the topic of her brother just wouldn’t seem to go away. She simply didn’t want to talk about the man who betrayed her to this life. Why was he telling her all this anyway?
“He would grunt and groan, pretending to be more animal than man,” Ozryn continued. “He had the whole city fooled, but I knew better. Those eyes held a sort of intelligence, a shining light found only in a civilized, thinking creature. But I played along. There was no gain to be had by revealing his secret. Don’t get me wrong; I had no loyalty towards him, either. My job was to make him a killer, and that’s exactly what I did. If you ask me, I’d say I did my job a little too well.” He stopped and rounded on Viola. “But there was only so much I could do.”
He flicked her white hair. “Whatever he was, whatever you are, there are limits as to what I can do. That was the problem we encountered from day one. First, the walls had to come down.” The walls had to come down? she thought. What does that mean?
“Although he was stronger and faster than any human I had ever trained, his body still had weaknesses. He had limits that needed to be overcome before he could live up to his true potential. I fear you suffer from those same limitations. For you to reach your potential, to become what you were born to be, these weaknesses must be eliminated.” A ball of ice began to swirl in her stomach. What was he talking about? She didn’t like the sound of any of this.
From the darkened gateway just ahead, she could see the tall figure of a man emerging from the shadows. So tall, in fact, her heart fluttered for an instant as her mind allowed her to see what she wanted to see. “Liam?” she whispered, hope rising like the tide. He had come for her! That meant her friends were here as well. They would bring her home, take her far away from this—
Stepping out from the darkness, the towering figure’s red robes shifted with each deliberate stride. Light seemed to sparkle off that red-and-black mask, forcing Viola’s heart to sink like a stone. It was him.
“No,” she said, taking a step back. She bumped right into Ozryn’s belly, attempting to put more space between herself and that man. All she could think about was the pain inflicted by the collar, pain he seemed to command with no more than a thought. “Why is he here? What does he want?” She looked up at Ozryn. His ever-present scowl had mysteriously vanished. Instead, he wore a sad look that seemed strange on such a hardened man. The apparent sympathy filled her with even more fear.
“I am sorry,” he said, his normally gruff voice now soft and filled with pity. “I never dreamed I would have to watch this a second time.” Face hardening once more, he snatched her by the arm and slung her forward, sending her tumbling face first into the sand. When she looked up, a pair of black shoes were right in front of her face. She got to her knees, staring up at the silent red giant.
“What do you want from me?” she squeaked, her rising panic evident with every word.
“We need you to learn to control this marvelous body of yours, Viola,” said Kuuma, stepping around from behind Diovok’s back. The thin little man dropped down to one knee, lifting her chin with one knuckle. “Soon, your true nature shall be on display for all the world to see. They will bear witness to a savage killer who knows no defeat.”
“I’m not a killer,” she whimpered, the weight of her chin pushing down against his finger.
“Oh, but you are, my dear. Have you forgotten already?” Her eyes snapped shut, squeezing a tear that rolled down her cheek. “You’re all killers.” He swept a hand across the others, who had stopped sparring by this time and were now making their way over to see what was going on. “That was a prerequisite, as you may recall. Oh, you’re definitely a killer. Whether or not you embrace that fact is a different matter altogether.
“The true problem is that you’re not enough of a killer. Not yet, anyway. Not like your brother was.” Her eyes snapped open at the mention of her brother. “But we are going to fix that starting today. It’s not that you aren’t strong enough. It is your mental weaknesses that must be addressed before greatness can be achieved. Weaknesses such as this.” He turned over his hand, exposing his wrist under her nose. She glanced at it curiously, not understanding the odd gesture. He motioned towards Diovok, who in turn waved his hand ever so slightly.
A burning hunger exploded through her. So fierce, so desperate, the sudden need was nearly enough to break her. It was like craving air while having her head held underwater for five minutes, her lips with only an inch from the surface. So close to the thing she needed most, yet unable to attain it.
