Heart of the Resonant: Book 1: Pulse (Resonant Series)

by B. C. Handler

  Next, she took my arm and inspected it, probing my forearm and bicep with her bony thumb. Her hands inspected my hand thoroughly, going down and testing each of my finger joints, then turning my hand over and inspecting my palm as if it were a book.

  She finally released me and allowed me to stand straight.

  “You are certainly built symmetrically, and your body has a good ratio. Very good, very good.” She nodded her head absently and went over to her desk. Brushing aside some loose books and papers, she uncovered a familiar box. “Let’s see, let’s see...”

  She shuffled back and pulled a remnant from the box. Seeing where this was going, I accepted the stone. Once in direct contact with me, the golden rock flared a brilliant white.

  Julika marveled at the sight while the other four took immediate interest and stepped in for a closer look. Even Kokoliniasta’s composed face went slack in wonderment.

  I looked up from my palm and saw the Grand Mage with her eyes closed, nodding. Half her mouth smiling.

  “So you are,” she mused. “So you are.”

  “I am what?” I asked nervously. Since my first experience with the stone, the question has been keeping me up at night along with the nightmares.

  “Yes, Master, what is it?” Julika seemed eager.

  The Grand Mage walked around her desk and sat down in her chair, steepling her fingers and taking a moment for herself.

  “I’ve only ever heard stories from my master of ones such as you.” She rubbed her hand along her dark chin. “Old stories, very old stories that have evolved with the generations, but now I know they are not hollow lore. Tell me, Sal.”

  “Al,” I corrected.

  “Tell me, Al, how would you describe yourself?”

  I furrowed my brow. That was sort of leftfield, but it must’ve been relevant.

  “I’m… okay, I guess? I know I’m not perfect, but I like to think of myself as a decent person.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “Hmm, and what of your battle with the creatures of the Null? Why did you fight?”

  The question harkened back dark memories. A cool sensation washed over my body and I set my jaw. “That should be obvious. I didn’t want to die.”

  She closed her eyes and nodded again. “Why not run? Fleeing is the surest way of survival. Was it your honor?”

  A chuckle escaped and I cracked a bitter smile. “With all due respect, honor is something that has killed many and saved none. The chance to run was there, and I just didn’t. My gut maybe?” I said, holding a hand over my stomach. “No real reason outside of not wanting to witness another person dying. The fight with the Caster? Easy: I wanted to win, to live.”

  The Grand Mage smiled at that and chuckled softly. “A balanced yet courageous mind too, it seems. Curious, but one more thing…” she murmured to herself. “Julika, if you would?”

  The Grand Mage waved her hand at her apprentice, who nodded and walked off towards a nearby table. She carried back a long wooden case and placed it on the desk. She opened it to reveal the wood sword I used to beat the Caster. Julika presented it to me with both hands.

  “Please take it,” she advised.

  I did as I was told. Did they bring it back because it was used to kill the Caster?

  As I inspected the sword, The Grand Mage called out to one of the men.

  “Emre, if you would?”

  The guy who looked like an officer nodded and stepped forth until he stood in front of me. Kokoliniasta came up and pulled Neepa and Eva away to the side, leaving just me and the man known as Emre in the middle of the room.

  “Ready yourself, son,” Emre said. He squared himself up to me and clasped his hand in front of him in a praying gesture.

  “For what?” I asked. I looked at the old black lady for some guidance.

  “Al, guard!” Neepa shouted.

  I held the sword in front of me just as Emre swung. A shock traveled down my arms then transferred to my body, causing my heels to skid back across the floor a few feet. The force made my entire body tingle.

  Held at Emre’s side looked like a slightly luminescent glass sword. He didn’t have that before.

  “What the hell?” I shouted.

  I looked around the room to see that aside from Eva and Neepa, and me, obviously, everyone else watched on calmly.

  Emre gave an apologetic nod then lunged. I narrowly avoided getting stabbed by scrambling backward, nearly toppling over my own feet. Then he came at me with a big overhead swing. I didn’t know squat about swordplay, so I did what only seemed logical: block by holding my sword horizontal to his.

  Whatever I did was clearly the wrong way because his edge slid off of mine and clipped my left thigh. It didn’t feel very deep, but I could feel the warm blood running down my leg.

  “Al!” Neepa cried.

  I grimaced and pressed a hand to the cut. It stung, but it was manageable. Whenever I got a nasty cut, I’d think back to the time I was working with my dad when I tripped and impaled my forearm on a piece of rebar. Every ridge of that rusted metal hurt more than anything else to date.

  “Asshole,” I growled. I checked my thigh, my palm painted a dark scarlet. Seeing my own blood always filled me with a unique rage.

  I gave the others a fleeting glance. The Grand Mage watched on with her fingers still steepled, Julika to her side observing intently. The horned woman had a small smile on her face, and the other two men shared hushed words with each other.

  Was this a game? Was I just some sort of gladiatorial spectacle? I’m fighting for my fucking life here!

  Alright. Calm. Calm. Breathe. Find his rhythm, and then build yours around it. Breathe.

  I steadied and quelled my hectic heartbeat. Going edge to edge with him was dumb on my part since I’ve never used a sword before, not to mention the bokken sword I had was meant to be safe.

  Instinct and muscle memory took over. I widened my stance then offset my lead foot, my trailing foot shifted back a smidge and pointed at a slight angle, the weight of my body on the balls of my feet. Classic orthodox style.

  The look on Emre’s face changed when I adjusted my stance; it almost looked like surprise. He did a few shallow swings and a light stab, but didn’t fully commit. I kept moving back and circling around to stay out of his range.

  He finally committed and did a fast slash that narrowly missed my arm. I may not have boxed seriously in a few years, but my footwork hadn’t gotten too rusty––kind of hard to when Dad drilled them into me for hundreds of hours.

  I continued to dance around him, using my sword more as a buffer between us while he continued to prod at me. His shoulder choreographed when he planned to attack.

  However, it was the follow-up where the danger lies. There were several options he could do after the initial attack, his skill apparent with how fluidly he handled his edge.

  I needed more tells; something, anything.

  And there it was.

  After another failed stab, I noticed it. Every time he went for lunge, he’d twist his wrist slightly. I noticed a couple signs with his feet placement when he went for a slash, but attempting to dodge one of those was a steep gamble.

  He grunted and brought his sword around in a tight arc, which I saw, but it was just a feint. He brought his sword in and lightly tapped mine of the way and landed a clean slash. A dull heat radiated from my forearm just as blood began to seep down and off my hand in a fairly thick stream.

  Just a cat scratch. Calm. Breathe.

  He backed off and we circled each other. As we moved, I caught a glimpse of Eva and Neepa. Kokoliniasta held both of them by their shoulders. Neepa watched with horrified, watery eyes, and Eva watched with a fierce scowl.

  I returned my gaze to Emre once the girls left my field of vision. I was worried about what was going to happen to them whether I won or lost. These are their people, so hopefully nothing will come to them. But my attention should be dedicated to now; it should be dedicated for the moment I’m looking for.
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  His wrist twitched and I made my move.

  I stepped inside of his attack and got right into his unprotected left flank. I used the sword in my left hand in a sloppy parry then torqued my hips and shoulders for a right hook to his body.

  Before my first followed through, it struck a white haze inches over his ribs. The haze was solid like a wall. If not for all that conditioning to my bones, my hand would've been broken.

  The sword he wielded was gone and he had his hands held out towards me in a “halt” gesture. I swung the bokken with my left, but it struck the haze to no avail.

  “Al, he’s using light magic,” Neepa said hastily. “He can make barriers and constructs, but not at the same time.”

  Emre brought his hands together and pushed them towards me, the white haze knocking me back. I rolled then arrested the tumble. I got to my feet just as Emre advanced with his sword drawn for a crosscut. In a panic, I held my sword out and attempted to block it. I managed, but it carried so much weight behind it that my balance was thrown off. He came back for a follow up swing, which I narrowly blocked again.

  He continued his onslaught, keeping me on my toes and drawing me into his pace.

  Even though my previous wounds had healed almost completely, my muscles were slow and sluggish. It made me furious. Even more so with this bastard coming at me with a magic sword and shield and I’m just given a damned stick. A fucking baseball bat would’ve been better.

  This is the hand I was dealt. If a lame sword was all I had, might as well use it.

  Drawing in a deep breath, I watched the bloody trail I left on the floor. Half-baked idea set, I went into action.

  I gambled and successfully ducked under a wide swing and went for a swipe at his knee. Emre redirected and parried my attack before falling back, but I chased him down. I swung at him madly, sloppily. But I’d get my hit in. And when I did, I was going to make it hurt.

  He maneuvered easily enough, but thanks to my footwork and uncoordinated movements, none of his counterattacks took.

  I continued to press him back, then I circled around to his right and made a mad lunge, forcing him to side step to the left.

  C’mon, just a little more.

  After another dodge, he backpeddled and stepped right where I hoped he would.

  Emre’s foot slipped out from under him, compromising his footing. The tendons in my arm stretched as I wound back, then brought the sword down on Emre. His clear blade dematerialized and his arms came up with his shield, stopping my attack.

  Pissed, I wound back and struck harder than the last. The bokken clacked against the invisible barrier, making a screeching sound like a spoon grinding glass, bringing Emre to his knees, his arms buckling.

  Something welled deep within me that came out as a roar. The sword screamed against the shield before it shattered like glass. The sword came down on Emre’s collar bone unobstructed, earning a cry from the man as he crashed to the floor.

  Still filled with rage, I brought my weapon high and with the intention of striking down my attacker until the floorboards wrapped around my limbs like tentacles. They went rigid and I was locked in place.

  “That will be enough,” the Grand Mage said as she approached.

  “What the fuck was that, you old bag?” I snarled. I fought against my wood restraints, but to no avail.

  “Call me Merula,” she said with a wide grin.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Mind your tongue when you speak to her Greatness,” the middle-aged bald guy badgered, jabbing his finger at me.

  “Shut your cock-chugging mouth, you sack of shit!”

  He looked at me with his mouth wide open. Certainly had no way to follow up with that one.

  “Calm yourself, Jal,” the horned lady said. She gave me a long look and snickered. “Can you blame a man with battle lust?”

  Merula came up and gave my injuries a good look. I thrashed against my restraints, but she extended a bony finger and pressed my forehead. It was as if she pressed my off button. My body went slack and a sudden calming sensation washed over me. She then slapped my forearm, then my thigh.

  “That should do, that should do.” She snapped her fingers and the floorboards that were holding me morphed and slid back into place with a groan. I fell onto my butt in a limp heap as my bones have somehow turned into jelly, my body relaxing until it felt like I was going to turn into a puddle.

  “Al!” Neepa came running over with Eva on her heels. Neepa dropped to her knees and dug into her bag and pulled out some bandages. As she was about the start dressing my arm, she did a double take and dropped her hands to her lap.

  I looked down and saw that the cut was gone, not even a mark was left. I looked at my thigh and only saw skin through my pants. “What the…?”

  “Are you hurt?” Neepa asked, resting her hand on my shoulder.

  “No… I don’t feel any pain, actually.” My body didn’t seem to want to move, but I certainly felt relaxed. Fury still simmered within, but it was somewhere far away now.

  “The Grand Mage would never let any harm fall to you, Al,” Julika said, coming up beside her master.

  “Does getting sliced up not count as harm around here?” I asked snidely. “Why the sudden freaking duel?”

  “To make sure that I was sure,” Merula said.

  “To make sure of what? Senile, old bat.” My anger was starting to return along with the feeling in my limbs.

  Merula parted her hands. “That you were a Resonant.”

  I looked at Neepa, who shook her head. I glanced up at Eva. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “A Resonant,” the old mage reiterated. “One whose power is in a perfect state of equilibrium. One who is balanced in mind, body, and soul. One whose fragment of the One closely resembles that of when the One was whole.” She pointed her wrinkled finger at me and smiled. “That being you. The first Resonant to have been found in thousands of years.

  “I’ve only been told in passing by my master of Resonants; fireside tales of mighty warriors who were capable of tapping into the ether with the same capacity as the One. Resonants were capable of holding their own against any creature of the Null, capable of standing against whole armies, and capable of ending famine and healing the sick and injured. An old story told by old mages, a tale that has influenced many like it through different times and cultures.” She squinted her eyes at me and the lines of her face deepened with a smile. “But now I know the grandfather of all fables was based on a grain of truth.”

  I stared at her, dumbfounded. “That… that can’t be. I’ve never used magic or anything like it in my entire life, magic wasn’t even believed to be real from my world. How the hell can you be so sure I’m a… Resonant?”

  “You have perfect teeth and you’re a well-rounded person,” Merula said with a raised finger.

  I gave a befuddled look. “What do my teeth and personality have to do with that?”

  “Balance is the defining trait of a Resonant. The body of a Resonant would naturally display such traits as having perfectly set teeth, a symmetrical body and features; arms, legs, and fingers in a perfect ratio to one another. The same stands for your constitution.”

  “That sounds like pseudoscience to me.” I grunted and tried to stand, my limbs feeling like they’ve woken from falling asleep. Neepa and Eva helped. I had to use the bokken as cane to keep myself upright.

  “Yes, yes, not exactly a well-defined method, but you did display the key characteristic of a Resonant.” Her eyes wandered down to my makeshift cane. “You wielded an artifact’s power as if it were your own.”

  I stared down at the practice sword.

  Julika stepped forward. “Emre’s light constructs are stronger than any physical object, yet you were able to negate his power,” she informed. “The report told me that you fought a Caster who wore a zoetic cloak––a living cloak that protects its wearer from harm, even items of a magical nature. And with that sword you were able to crush its defenses.<
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  “On its own, the artifact you wield is unbreakable, nary a scratch no matter what we tested it against, but only in your hands does it appear to display this unique property of undoing magic. As my master says, something special resides in you to manage such a feat.”

  Now that she mentioned it; I was actually amazed at how the wood never cracked or snapped completely. Emre’s sword could certainly cut, and his strikes felt heavy.

  Julika continued. “The remnant you held must’ve turned white because you have a special tie to the One.”

  She sauntered closer and held my hand in hers.

  “There potential within you, Al. I, as well as the other head mages,” she said, gesturing to the others, “will see to your education in the mystic arts and bring out your greatness. With you, we will be able to stand against the Null and reclaim what has been lost.”

  “Yes, son,” Emre said while rubbing his collarbone. “You’re rough around the edges, but even I can see some latent potential in your fighting ability. A little work will hone that edge of yours.”

  “Likewise,” the bald man known as Jal agreed. “While you’re sorely in need of lessons on manners, I cannot say the same for your ability to strategize.” He shuffled closer with his hands clasped behind his back, leaning towards the floor. “Using your own blood to trip an opponent? Brilliant.”

  “Hmm,” the horned lady purred. “I’m curious to see what sort of energy you can unleash.”

  The old Gandalf-looking man just nodded his head in acknowledgement.

  Julika gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “We can give you a home within Lucinia and take care of all your needs. We can assign you your own personal aid and the rest of us will be there to educate you.” She wrapped both her hands around mine and brought it close to her chest. “Al, what do you say?”

  All eyes were fixed on me. I looked at the Grand Mage, then at Julika, who smiled back earnestly. My gaze fell onto the wooden sword at my side.

  I yanked my hand from Julika’s grasp and tossed the sword, where it bounced with a patter that echoed out in the room before coming to a rest.

  “No.”