Sol Boxset

by Samuel Small

  “Lennon Mackershoft, current first seat, a pleasure!” he said. Dante looked at the hand for a moment, seeming to consider whether or not grasp it. He shrugged, then gripped it tightly. “Dante. Always a pleasure to meet someone who can hold their own.”

  Lennon nodded and brushed off the compliment, saying he wasn’t all that, but Jake didn’t even see him kill all those Malice, which was insane, and he managed to stop full powered attacks from two elite fighters. The strong boy’s eyes rested on Jake lightly, and he was immediately confused. Every strong person he’d ever met always had a dark presence in their eyes, like some concealed pain they were constantly suffering with. This guy, his eyes were as warm and inviting as his smile. “And you are?”

  “Jake, guard of the Republic and comrade of Dante. This is Sara, former princess of Niflheim, and Elizabeth.” Lennon nodded at each of them and turned his attention back to Dante. Jake feared some sort of retribution was coming and figured he should try his best to remedy the situation.

  “I apologize for my comrade’s behavior, he can be brash at times howev—” before Jake could continue, Lennon held a hand up, shaking his head. “Knowing Mister Floff, he likely started it.” His eyes rested on the collapsed building across from Jake, “in fact, I’m sure of it. Your friend was no doubt acting in self-defense. That being said,” he turned to the formerly hooded man known as Floff and placed his hands on his hips. “There better be a good explanation as to why you attacked these people – after all, we have staged this festival to honor them.”

  “Don’t allow your position to get to your head, boy. These four attempted to destroy Her Will. The higher laws hold priority over everything. As my men will confirm, my initial attack was intended only to stop the boy, he then escalated the situation to its current level.”

  Lennon looked at the four travelers, his mouth agape. He must’ve not known that they violated this ‘higher law,’ and whatever it was it must have been a pretty big deal. He shook his head and looked back at the man. “They’re travelers – groundlings, I think – it’s possible they have no knowledge of the higher law.”

  Floff placed a hand on his chin and tensed his facial features, considering it. He turned his stern gaze to Jake. “You boy.” Jake sprung to attention, shouted “yes,” and waited for the man to continue. “Are you not familiar with the higher law?”

  Jake shook his head.

  “And of the Great Warrior?”

  “No.”

  Floff turned to Lennon, mumbling, “The lower lands are in an even worse state than I thought.” He paced a few steps, then stopped. “Very well, I’ll acknowledge that perhaps my actions were a little unnecessary, although yours were also out of hand,” he said, resting his eyes on Dante. “Considering my transgressions, I’ll forgive your transgressions – deal?”

  “Yeah, we’re even steven,” Dante said. He turned around and took in the field behind him, and his eyes widened, possibly due to the lack of Malice. He turned quickly to Lennon. “Did you do that?”

  Lennon nodded, earning a raised eyebrow from Floff. He turned to him and stammered, “Well, I saw that it was their goal to defeat them, so I figured it was only proper to help.”

  “I suppose since they were only lesser extensions, it isn’t a violation,” Floff sighed. His men groaned and writhed as they got up. “I’ll have to compliment you on your battle performance, I never thought I’d see a single man take out my entire squadron aside from Lennon here. For that, you have my respect.”

  Dante nodded in acknowledgement. “You ain’t too shabby yourself.”

  It seemed all was worked out, although there was still the lingering concern of how they were going to get permission to defeat the Dragon Malice. As long as they weren’t in jail or dead, Jake could live with the current situation. He turned to Elizabeth and Sara, who were staring at the exchange as if in fear, and it made sense. Dante was actually conducting good diplomatic relations for one – the world was completely topsy-turvy. He shrugged at the two girls, then walked up to the men, who were having a casual conversation about combat and weapons. Jake was eager to join in and help cool tensions, but he took notice of an elderly man striding toward them. Based on the rather regal looking purple sash that was placed over his clothing, he looked like he was fairly important.

  “Lennon!” he yelled, his voice booming. It gave Jake a fright, even though he was expecting something of that nature. The smile upon Lennon’s face immediately faltered, and he walked over to meet the elderly man with his head down.

  “You’ve skipped out on training, explain yourself.”

  “I-I just wanted to go to the festival.”

  “That is of no importance,” the man said and grabbed Lennon’s arm. He turned and prepared to walk away, but his eyes widened at the sight of the destroyed building. He took in his surroundings, his eyes resting on the soldiers who were holding their injured bellies, Floff, and Dante. He narrowed his eyes at the lot of them. “And what has occurred here?”

  “My Lord,” Floff said, sinking to one knee, “there was a misunderstanding, but I think much good has come of it. My council and I have both gained invaluable combat experience,” he shot up to a stand, placing a hand on Lennon’s shoulder, “Lennon as well.”

  The elderly grand priest looked at the ragtag group suspiciously. “Continue,” he said.

  “Well sir, we had a bit of a training session with this young man, and he is very powerful. I think it would be good to introduce him to the training halls.”

  “Training halls?” Dante asked, beaming. Jake was also interested.

  “I hardly think that’s necessary. I don’t see how we can benefit from the combat abilities of groundlings.”

  “What?” Dante spat out. Jake tried to grab him and hold him back, but when he took in the glare of hatred from the Grand Priest he knew anything else would be worthless. Standing in the grass, a towering figure that blocked out the sun, the priest leaned in toward Dante. “Our nation prides itself on the value of combat. Why, Lennon alone could level an entire nation of you groundlings. Your training with our casual troops would be worth it, possibly.”

  “Yeah, well I doubt that. I bet one of our normal soldiers could take out one of your captains in a duel!”

  “Bah, very well, embarrass yourselves. Lennon, please take them to the training halls.”

  “Certainly, I’ll match you at once, which one of you shall be fighting?”

  “I said ordinary soldier, didn’t I?” Dante said, grinning at Jake.

  What the hell have you just got me into, Jake thought.

  Chapter 5

  The training hall was a grand outdoor campus lined with stone buildings, finely crafted weapons, and warriors battling it out. Jake was amazed at the sheer scale of it all, but also confused. They were an isolationist nation who couldn’t realistically be invaded, yet they spent this much effort on training their military? It wasn’t normal, especially since everything he’d encountered until this morning led him to believe that this was a pacifist country.

  Still, the skill of this nation’s warriors was not to be ignored. Floff had fought on par with Dante, and the young man walking in front of him stopped them both with little effort, taking out a horde of Malice to boot. Whatever it was this country was preparing to fight, Jake certainly hoped he had nothing to do with it.

  The five entered an archway, wherein their way was cast in shadow. The whole place was damp and stony, the only light coming from the entrance behind them and the exit ahead. It was odd, as there didn’t seem much of a reason for such a foreboding structure. Still, the presentation of the place made Jake wonder what exactly would be on the other side.

  Once they crossed over, they were met by a field with walls on all sides and a large building to their left. In the center, two wind users battled, shooting large gusts at one another and canceling them out with their own. Upon seeing Lennon, one of the men’s mouth fell open, and he dropped to one knee while keeping his head dow
n, although his eyes were slightly raised and narrowed. The other, seeing his combatant’s reaction, turned and stared at Lennon. His features also hardened, then he too swiftly took a knee. Lennon raised his hands and waved at them then brought one to the back of his head.

  “Really, I wish you guys wouldn’t do that every time,” Lennon said.

  Upon rising, Jake could’ve sworn he heard one mumble, “me neither,” and he looked at them with more scrutiny. This same person caught his eyes and glared at him. Jake didn’t appreciate his attitude.

  “What’s the purpose of this visit?” one of the two said.

  “To test the combat abilities of these groundlings,” a voice from behind them replied, and upon turning around they saw the Grand Priest himself striding toward them, his features sharp and his robe trailing out behind him like some magnificent red carpet. Jake took special note that the others did not kneel upon his appearance, which meant that Lennon must in some way outrank him despite the fact that it appeared they were brought here on his orders. The Grand Priest stopped before Dante. “I believe we have an arrangement,” he said.

  “Yeah,” Dante said, then placed an arm around Jake and pushed him forward. Jake stumbled before the looming Grand Priest, who looked down at him judgmentally. “Er, yes. I just need a wooden practice blade and I’ll be happy to demonstrate,” Jake said.

  “Very well.” He pointed to the two boys who had just been sparring. “You, grab a blade. You will be his opponent.”

  The other boy nodded, a mischievous grin on his lips. It was the one who gave Jake a dirty look earlier. Perfect, he thought.

  “Are you sure about this?” Sara asked him.

  “Yeah, it’s just a sparring match.”

  “Yes, but it was his idea,” Elizabeth said, motioning her head at Dante. He looked at her and shrugged, seeming genuinely offended.

  “Please, it’s something I wanted to do anyway,” Jake finished, just as the other boy emerged from the hall with a practice blade. Jake accepted it and thanked him, although he didn’t respond, merely returning to the far end of the field, occasionally eyeing Lennon from over his shoulder. Jake wrote it off and swung the wooden blade to his side. It cut finely through the air, and was nice and light. It wasn’t as good as the ones he used in the Republic, as it was clearly old and had received some use, but since it was just a practice blade it didn’t really matter.

  The match all but begun, Jake’s comrades made their way to the end of the field in order to spectate. His opponent stood at the center, his arms folded and foot tapping, Lennon at his side. Jake strode toward them and stuck out his hand.

  “Let’s have a good clean fight.”

  For what it was worth, the boy did grasp Jake’s hand, although he did not return his sentiment. Seeing that things were in order, Lennon backed up and raised his arm. “The first clean hit will be the victor. Ready and—”

  At the word ‘go,’ Jake lunged forward, barring his sword. The boy opposite him stood firm with his hands in his pockets. Perhaps he was an accurate enough Sol user that he didn’t need to motion with his hands to activate his ability. Jake had heard of such people, although he’d never met one. Jake kept his eyes on the grass, prepared for the blades to lash out from a sudden gust of air at any moment, but none was forthcoming. It appeared the boy wasn’t going to prevent Jake’s approach in any way. It almost made Jake hesitate as he wound up for a swing, but he figured it didn’t matter. If his opponent had some trick up his sleeve, Jake just had to force him to use it.

  Jake’s sword cut through the air, aimed at the boy’s midsection, but about a foot from making contact the momentum suddenly stopped.

  The wooden sword vibrated as it snapped back in the opposite direction, and Jake had to use all of his effort to keep it from flying straight out of his hands. Gritting his teeth at the pain that traveled down his palms, Jake glared at his opponent’s smug features, then made a return attack. Again he seemed to strike some kind of solid wall, and he jumped back to regain himself.

  In front, the boy still stood with his hands in his pockets as Jake raised his sword and readied for his counterattack. The boy’s smirk seemed to stretch even wider, and in that instant something pushed into the tip of his sword. He quickly drew it in and used his left palm to reinforce the block. Something smacked his blade, then continued forward. Jake skidded through the grass due to the force, piling up dirt behind his heels, then pivoted out of the way of whatever pushed into him.

  It wasn’t particularly fast moving, and based on the cheeky grin his opponent wore that was likely on purpose. Jake gritted his teeth, then darted at his opponent. As he did, his chest seemed to smack into something, although his feet continued forward. He tried to catch himself, but it was too late, and Jake landed flat on his back. He winced, then quickly rose to his feet. Ahead, his opponent still adopted the same posture, but Jake had no clue what kind of Sol he was using. He seemed to push against something before, but now it was a solid wall.

  “It’s solid shit,” Dante called. “He’s making solid shit. You gotta predict how he’s gonna predict you’re gonna take ’em out.”

  Jake looked at Dante, his eyebrow raised. He was trying to decipher what he had just said, but he couldn’t understand anything beyond the words ‘solid shit.’ Before he could work it out, a fast-moving object smashed into Jake’s shins and sent him spiraling headfirst toward the ground. He slammed his wooden blade into the grass to cushion the fall, and by then his feet were free from whatever it was the just pushed through them and he was able to catch himself. This time when he looked up his opponent’s smile was gone.

  That meant whatever Dante said was right, and he was trying to stop Jake from thinking about it too much. Predict his prediction. Jake wanted to ask what the hell that meant, but the bit of advice he’d already received was unsportsmanlike as it was, and he thought he should figure it out on his own.

  This guy could apparently harden air into something solid, but he wasn’t limited to that. The air still maintained its weightlessness, evident by when one close lined him. This boy could also push these air pockets, which were the projectiles he was using to hit Jake. Still, he had to have some kind of finishing move planned and he could tell that this guy was going to use it after their next exchange. He removed his hands from his pockets and held them at his sides, clearly up to something. This would likely be Jake’s last chance to fight, and he had to figure out what Dante’s poorly articulated advice meant.

  “Don’t lose or you’ll make me look bad!” Dante shouted.

  “Give it your all, Jake!” Sara cheered.

  “I expect you to perform better than this,” Elizabeth yelled.

  His comrades cheered him on, and Jake at least had a bit of a strategy. Prepared to enact it, Jake jumped in place. Sure enough, his feet hit something solid upon coming down; his opponent had intended to sweep him again. Jake used the solid air as a springboard and leapt forward, raising his sword overhead. The boy looked worried for a split second, but his features soon contorted into an angry grimace. If that was the case…

  Jake shifted the direction of his sword at the last second, curving it to catch his opponent in the midsection. Judging by his opponent’s wide eyes the moment he did, Jake must’ve predicted his prediction right. His sword found its way into the other boy’s ribs with a satisfying smack, one that could clearly be heard throughout the field. At the sound of it, Lennon raised his right arm.

  “Clean hit! The victor is Jake!”

  Jake offered a hand to his opponent, who massaged the spot where he had been struck. He looked at him hesitantly, but soon softened his features and shook. “Good show,” he said. Jake nodded and agreed. He was ready to ask him all about his ability and what kind of strategies he utilized, but an annoying taunting interrupted him. When he turned to face it, he saw Dante dancing around the Grand Priest, hopping while shooting his arms into the air and pointing. He stuck his tongue out in between words, and looked just like th
e pictures of demons in hell from old books, although the one Jake met was actually much more civil.

  “How’s that then? Our weakest fuck takes out your best fuck! Nyeeeeaaaah!”

  The Grand Priest, for what it was worth, took the taunting like a champ. He had his arms folded across his chest, and it was clear that his fingers were digging into his flesh as he was forced to take Dante’s constant and poorly articulated insults. His eyebrow twitched and Jake silently prayed that he would make it through the mocking without ordering everyone’s execution.

  “It certainly was a good move on his part. Using Weed’s air pocket as a foothold, I’d have never thought it possible.”

  “That’s because your country exists in its own little bubble. Like it or not, there’s shit outside this place. Yeah, shit seems nice here, but that’s only at the cost of ignoring reality, and sooner or later it’s gonna catch up with you.”

  Jake was immediately fearful of that last part, taunting the guy was enough but he didn’t have to insult the entire country as well, regardless of how true it may be. He wanted to reprimand him for that, but Sara already had him covered. A large block of ice about a foot in diameter slammed into the back of Dante’s head as he smugly nodded. It snapped him out of his cocky state, as his eyes bulged as he struggled to keep from falling. He turned around, rubbing the back of his head, and glared at Sara. The Grand Priest had a good silent chuckle at this while Dante’s back was turned and seemed to forget the insults.

  “You’ve got strong women among your party,” he said. “I wish I had them to myself.”

  “Aw, don’t get dirty old— mmmph,” Dante began, but Elizabeth clasped a hand over his mouth before he could finish. He struggled and more made muffled shouts. Elizabeth at least pretended to be fond of Dante, if only not to arouse suspicion from the priest. “Please forgive my companion, he’s a bit of an idiot.”

  “I’ve noticed.”

  Dante screamed louder and thrashed out, and Elizabeth had to grip him tighter so that he didn’t get away. Suddenly her features turned to those of utter disgust and she shouted, “Did you just lick me?” then proceeded to stomp on his foot. Sara came behind him and told him just how gross that was as he fell to the ground, then stomped on him along with Elizabeth. Jake, not wanting the party to seem as crazy as it really was, opted to approach the Grand Priest.