Friday morning.
Under the overcast sky, a circular plot of land with obelisks erected at various points was trodden on by countless students new and old. They waited impatiently for the start of the Young Magus Tournament held in the open atrium. The tradition for such a competition was that a particularly renowned official, Minister Lein, from the Findel Magus Association, would visit the Sage Raufid Magus Academy in search of those who would benefit the country.
If the student was an intelligent strategist, Lein would gift the student a chance to lead as an officer that commanded a platoon in Findel's army. If the student was discreet or savvy he would be hired as a spy and assigned to the field. If the student was good at aggression and combat he would be enlisted in the military as a war magus.
Whatever the country lacked, Lein would replenish by picking the potential candidates that would fulfill the jobs with the utmost proficiency as aspirants and protégés of their greatest. His recommendations were highly revered by many, a mere reflection of his great influence. And as luck would have it, that important figure in the Duvel made a habit to revisit his hometown upon the blossoming of the first daffodil in the new year as the world welcomed the Month of the Halberd.
The academy held an exquisite annual event as such to provide an official reason for his return. The stirring darkness of corruption overshadowed by confetti and fanfare marred the bright visage of the country for those who dabbled deep in its society. But that was for another tale, for he who acted without malice shall know none such. The students, mere flowers drifting along the streamside, knew naught the erosion of the riverbed.
As badly as the students wanted to watch the tournament, it was not allowed to start. Commencing the event without the guest-of-honor's presence would be disrespectful and, more bluntly, pointless. So with bated excitement, the students chattered amongst themselves excitedly.
Some would talk about how charming or attractive the competitors looked. Others talked about how hard-working or diligent they were. Some chose to observe their spells and fighting styles, deciphering the lore and construing a counter for every participant where possible. From the nosiest gossipers to the reluctant loafers dragged along by their friends, there was always something to talk about.
It didn't take long before murmurs could be heard about his arrival. The guest-of-honor draped in a purple-and-white garb obscuring everything but his face stood at the ledge prepared for him specifically and raised his right hand with elegance. With a crazed wave, the crowd roared in excitement.
"Students of Sage Raufid, I am Minister Lein. Sorry to keep all of you waiting! I would like to take this time to thank the champion from the previous tournament for being my escort. If not for him, we would have been held up by the congestion and delayed the event further."
The previous champion gave a slight bow as a show of courtesy.
K: (So that's Deku. He looks a little older than the portrait of him on the poster.)
L: "Now that we are behind schedule, I shall conduct the opening speech later after a short recess. Without further delay, let the tournament begin!"
The official named Lein picked up his goblet filled with wine and emptied it towards the bird resting on a perch. The wine caught fire mid-flight, soaked the bird and the miserable creature transformed into a flaming beast flying off into the sky with an ear-piercing screech. With the commencement of the tournament complete, the students' cries frenzied.
Katachi never quite understood why the Academy chose to conflagrate and murder a Woodtail every year. It might have some symbolic meaning he was unaware of, but if given the choice he would let the poor bird fly free.
K: (Woodtails aren't considered pests... Are they?)
*** ***
"Alright, form up. 'Tis time for the preliminary match. I'll only go over the rules once."
The teacher instructed all the competitors to gather. However, the limited size of the small hallway was too constrained and the students ended up bumping into each other shoulder to shoulder.
"Don't bother about lines, fools! I don't expect uniform queues so just listen up. You lot are from the second division and we're running late. Each division is given only eight tokens suspended on a rope ten meters off the ground. There are sixteen of you this batch so only half you lot will make it to the actual match. Each person is only entitled to take one token. No hoarding."
The enthusiasm of the fidgeting crowd was abated due to the stuffy and unventilated corridor.
"When the token is taken the person receives an immunity spell for two minutes. So once you grab it, don't let go and walk out calmly. Anyone who attempts to take two tokens will be electrocuted by completing the Uzab rune on them so don't test it. You may use any method you wish to obtain the token, but remember that the rules always will apply regardless."
The rules were designed such that a capable person was unable to take a second token for a friend. If one blindly charged forward he could be beaten down or used as a stepping stone while their backs were exposed. However, to be engrossed in fighting meant that the tokens may be snatched while one was fending off another meaninglessly. It truly was a rowdy test of skill, power, speed and manipulation of one's enemies. Katachi thought carefully about his engagement strategy.
K: (I don't know any competent magic for movement in particular... I can think of multiple ways to grab the token using 定, but blowing my cover in the preliminaries is stupid. Should I immobilize everyone? Should I make some kind of impregnable wall that traps everyone briefly?)
He quickly shot the idea down since using 定 on many people at once increased the risk of its disclosure. Using it in a wide area was bad as well in the same regard.
K: (Or maybe displace the token into my hand directly- No, that's too suspicious. Maybe I should minimize all interactions with the other students and head straight for the tokens instead? Which would be the best solution?)
"If you don't have any more questions you may go to the armory at the back there. Grab the weapon you ordered and ready yourselves. Dismissed!"
The students broke formation and quietly walked to the cabinet filled with dozens of wooden weapons. A green-haired guy grabbed a spear, a familiar-looking bald student grabbed a blade staff and a girl reached for a wooden stave. They were busy arming themselves with the ordered equipment, prominently emphasizing the fact that one needed to get used to the weapon they ordered quickly.
The atmosphere about was solemn and tense since everyone around them was an enemy somewhere down the line. While the other fifteen students geared themselves and practiced their wooden weaponry, Katachi squeezed through the lot of them and finally reached the rack. What remained was a tiny, wooden waster dagger.
It was finely-crafted with a solid hilt and an elegantly simple design. The handle was secured with a different type of wood, trading the toughness of the dagger in overall for a tighter grip. The wooden blade portion was a fine twenty centimeters long.
Alas, since it was wooden it held no offensive power; not to mention its only viable use was probably for shielding enemy attacks or for hitting someone with a surprise attack. At worst it served as a distraction by throwing it at the enemy.
K: (The grip is decent.)
It seemed suicidal to carry such a tiny dagger with almost no reach into a tournament.
K: (It's light enough to carry, it seems solid enough to hurt a bit and the thickness of the wood is comfortable. Not to mention, it's light... It's anything but cumbersome, but that's more or less the point.)
The merciful path was the renowned path. Katachi swung the tiny dagger on his right wrist a few times to get a feel for its weight. It fit naturally onto his arm and was pretty easy to get used to; as expected of a waster dagger meant for training.
It could be flicked around his hand quickly with just enough momentum and timing to match his own rhythm. The jarring weakness of its reach was a real problem but Katachi didn't have much time to think about that for the moment. The teacher signaled the beginning of the preliminaries with a pair of wood clackers.
"Line up at the gate! Get ready!"
The other contestants were feeling restless as inferred from their hushed mumbles.
"Go!!"
*** ***
The iron gates lifted. A hanging rope on the squarish scaffolding had eight red colored tokens tied onto it with some strange mixture of what seemed to be bakeflour and water. The participants all charged fervently towards the scaffolding.
K: (Let's go with that then! 恒定! Constant velocity – Self!)
The golden colored 定 formed on Katachi's chest, his uniform hiding the word well. He kicked off to an explosive start and overtook the others struggling in the sand. It surprised everyone else who were using their feet to push against the sand that they were already lagging behind. Their unified movement was likely a collective strategy to get on solid ground so they could cast their spells with greater success.
"What the-!!"
The other contestants merely reached the stairs to climb the scaffolding after twenty meters of running, but Katachi was almost at the rope already without worrying about having to squeeze and compete for the cleanest beeline. He grabbed the rope with his hands and began climbing it as fast as his hands and feet allowed. With the Word of Power erased in sync, it made the entire act appear as if he had naturally floated towards the rope.
The act was a bit flawed because had Katachi truly been able to float there was no need to grab the rope, to begin with. In contrast, it was impeccable because someone below was already beginning to attack him. Incidentally, he was climbing at a speed faster than he did while floating so the transition was natural enough for the suspicion to be minimal.
"I won't let you! O, great and mighty Kafki, silence this insolent man!"
A purple cloud that appeared miasmic in nature sprouted forth from beneath, gushing towards him like raging rapids. His diminutive figure helped in his ascent tremendously. Katachi's fingers barely gripped onto a red token, and his body was instantly coated with a white membrane just before the purple cloud engulfed him – Yet he was fine.
Katachi loosened his grip on the rope in a panic and fell. Down and down he went until he was diving headfirst into the sand.
K: (Not good! 恒定! Constant status – Self!)
The Word of Power formed on his chest again as he fell and buried the dome of his head.
K: "Auegh!!!"
The participants paused to look at the black-haired child. Because Katachi still had 'Constant status' on him, he was strangely still 'falling' down despite being already on the ground. His arms and legs were still upright in the air in a falling motion that instilled an almost tranquil state of being.
It looked as though he was standing on the roof of his head in some form of bizarre and highly dangerous dance move, as though he were about to break from his neck supporting his full body weight. It was only when Katachi removed the word on his chest did his body and feet drop forward naturally and land on the hard ground in an almost comical fashion.
It appeared amusing and all at first, but when the other students saw Katachi getting up in slight pain even after the suicidal fall they regained their senses and rushed toward the rope. They concluded that the immunity spell would protect them from falling off the scaffolding, although he achieved that by a completely different method which eluded their attention.
Some would knock others off, who in turn dragged their attackers down with them. Others just wanted to blast spells of earth and fire at everyone, turning the token capture competition into a battle royale. Though his head was dizzy and he could not see the chaos about, they were loud enough for Katachi to briefly understand his surroundings.
Those on the scaffolding reached out for the rope in desperation while those below fought intensely with each other, trying to knock out their opponent. It was a large-scale scuffle with no holds barred but the ensuing battle was his concern no longer.
K: (Ugh... That still sort-of hurt, even with 'Constant status'. Well, I guess my 'status' is constant but I can still feel external forces and attacks even though my status doesn't change... I'll have to use that more carefully from now on.)
The tag that coated him with a white membrane was clasped just barely between his middle and ring fingers. He couldn't begin to imagine what would happen had he loosened his scrunched fingers for even a bit – He would either be dead from his Word of Power not working as intended or he would be alive with his 定 exposed.
Both were horrible in their own right, and he wasn't keen on learning either outcome. Katachi staggered out of the arena clutching his neck in great pain.
*** ***
Four tokens were taken since Katachi's departure. Right now seven students remained, still competing for the remaining tokens with the others knocked out cold.
"Cestia! I didn't think I'd be fighting you like this!"
The boy with the green hair and wooden spear faced the blue-haired girl holding the staff.
C: "Why are we enemies in this, Loar?!"
L: "I have to talk to Minister Lein, Cestia. I have to get that tag and win the tournament so I can return to my village!"
C: "But what about me?! I need that tag too! I must have the funds for my sister's medicine money, and now you're going to deny me of this chance?! You said that I could trust you! Is that promise so cheap to be cast aside just like that?!"
The girl pointed her staff at Loar and chanted with the fiery tempo of her wrath.
C: "O saintly Kafki, grace me with this savage's silence!"
As though it were a punishment, her weakness was pronounced from the way she cast her spell. Rather than visualizing herself as the legend Kafki she envisioned a devout follower who cast the same spell. It was already made clear and decisive where her limits were, to derive a spell from watching someone else rather than believing in the legend herself.
Coupled with her motives Cestia's reason for being there in the gigantic sandbox was justified enough for Loar to feel a slight sting in his heart. He knew with every fiber of his being that he wished to fight her the least. With the wooden staff channeling the magic as a conduit Cestia sprayed a purple mist towards him.
He used his spear as a vault and jumped to her left evasively, clearing the way and causing the huge cloud of poisonous gas to miss completely. Loar regained his composure and thrust the spear towards her, but she sidestepped it and knocked the tip into the earth beneath their feet. Cestia slid the wooden staff over the spear's body and pointed the stave at him.
C: "Give up. I know your tricks all too well- ?!"
Loar dug into the sand with the spear tip hastily and drew a small rune on the soil right beneath Cestia. The scraping sound of the spear's tip drawing on the soil was clearly heard amid the ambient noise due to its proximity. Despite being at point-blank range of her 'enemy', Cestia gambled a peek at the ground beneath.
C: "!!"
She leaped away as quickly as she could. She recognized that rune – It was a simple Etims rune prepared with her in mind. Had she stayed in that position for long she would have crumbled under his mental suggestion and eliminated from combat effectively.
L: "You're too naive, Cestia! Why did you think I picked a spear over a sword? It's because I know your techniques involve cornering and disarming!"
She readied her staff again and steeled her stance, but her vision was a blur. That was odd – Blurring of eyesight was not an effect the Etims rune inflicted.
C: "Gh!?"
Cestia had to close her eyes in pain. It felt like the water in her eyes were evaporating rapidly which caused extreme discomfort. She cringed and held her hands to her eyes in pain.
L: "How do you like my Scura-"
"You stupid Kafki believer!"
A bald student with a blade staff landed behind Loar. To converse so openly either meant his opponent abandoned fighting him, or that the poor sap was knocked out cold. But that was far from normal; why would a student stop a battle going on between his competitors instead of snatching the tokens himself? The bald student also appeared incredibly angry for some reason.
"Enough with your pointless squabble! The scaffolding's been weakened by both miasmas you shot!"
The two turned to face the scaffolding and ascertained the pandemonium with their own eyes. Cestia couldn't see anything, but Loar could easily commentate for her if he weren't as shocked as he was. The central pillars and base of the wooden scaffolding were corroding, its durability compromised by the toxic cloud Cestia unleashed at the charcoal-haired child earlier. There were still three students battling on the scaffolding and some kind of leopard ascending the sides, but only three tokens remained.
L: (Not good! If the scaffolding falls, someone likely won't make it out alive!) "Cestia! I won't pursue this matter with you for now. We have to help them first!"
Loar started running towards the scaffolding and dug his spear into the sand, scribbling many simple patterns that circled the base of the structure. Cestia was still in great pain lying on the floor with both hands clutching her eyes.
Her sight didn't seem like it would recover soon since moisture in the eyes was not as easy to regain as one's sense of balance. She was as good as being knocked out for most of the round, so the bald head dragged her to a side under a shadow at the rim of the sandbox. He used the opportunity to gain some distance and observed the situation from afar.
(To hell with the tokens! Their lives should come first. But their positioning is a little bit high which limits my options a lot. If I want a shot at getting them out safely I have to time it right.)
The base let out a creaking sound. The corrosion did significant damage to the wood, and the scaffolding's core and legs didn't seem like they would hold out for much longer. Loar was busy drawing the repulsion runes on the sand and soil with his spear but that was at best a flimsy safety net as it was not founded on something solid like stone or wood.
(Wier runes on the soft ground? Such poor handiwork. It wouldn't hold if the debris falls onto the runes and destroys them! What is this guy thinking, wasting his energy like that?)
The bald student tightened his grip on the wooden blade staff.
(Still, that speed... He's got some talent for them. An aspiring runesmith? Either way, with his aide hopefully this spell will go a lot better.)
The platforms wobbled and resounded with a mind-scraping creak. The three students on it were still in danger and among the confusion, a sixth competitor was already leaving the scene with a token in hand, a tanned brown-haired female student with her uniform befouled by sand. One of them, a girl who wielded a spear fell toward the rope, grabbed it and sliced the rope with her bile gauntlet.
The two tokens attached to it fell along with her and she grabbed one of the tokens quickly. As she was surrounded by a white membrane, the girl landed on her posterior uninjured and proceeded to run towards the exit without looking back. Without the last token on the scaffolding, both students were in danger. It rapidly snowballed into twice the amount of collateral damage applicable.
"Spearman with the green hair!"
Loar paused to address the bald student calling out to him.
"Draw a Tespi symbol on the ground to attract them together! Make it deep so it can't be removed by the falling debris! I need them together to save them both!"
Loar did not understand what he had in mind, but he did know that drawing a Tespi symbol would help the baldie's plan succeed. Without doubt in his mind, Loar quickly dug a Tespi symbol into the ground and continued making runes around the scaffolding. The bald student ran towards the prepared rune and positioned himself so the rune and the students were properly aligned.
(Good. Now, then. The waves spread out from disturbances and inequilibriums in the sea, from the tiniest fish to the largest sharks. The Tespi symbol is Axia's method of reading the waves from the stars. Tying his fabled hammer onto the end of a sail, Axia made a dowsing to divine the right course for the ships to sail past the thunderstorm. If I misinterpret his tale and change the students into raindrops...)
He reinforced the image of that legend he read of countless times.
"May the rain upon these sails chart our path to success! Novadis Graté!"
The students atop the scaffolding were tugged by a mystical force unwillingly towards the Tespi symbol. The scaffolding had yet to fall but it was better to pull them out as quickly as possible. It would have been much harder to deal with them had the debris obstructed the path.
(Not yet... Not yet... They're not close enough...! Now!!!) "HAAA!!!"
With a swift movement, the bladestaff's blade emitted a faint silver-blue glow at its tip and the bald student swept the blade at the area above the Tespi symbol. A rather strong shockwave before him forced the bald student himself to guard his face and vitals, and the two who fell towards the Tespi were thrust upwards for a very brief moment before sliding across the sand safely for about five meters.
The two were rescued unscathed. The bald student gave a sigh of relief, a symbol of triumph over an ordeal most challenging. However, the external force from the wave cutter did not disperse harmlessly, causing the scaffolding to immediately give way and collapse onto the ground. The last token was unfortunately buried under the huge mass of broken wood and rope. Some of the debris was caught by the Wier runes, but most of it had been pointless as he deduced earlier.
L: "The last token's under that scrap!"
Loar quickly ran towards the heap and wrote in saliva a Tespi rune on his spear. With a strong stab, the wooden debris quickly stuck to the tip of his spear like a magnet, clearing the lot and revealing the rope with the last token wedged between splinters of wood.
L: "There it is-"
Before Loar could exclaim in joy a swift shadow swooped down and grabbed the rope with the token.
C: "I'll take that!"
The person grabbing the rope with the token was the girl from earlier with blue hair. Her eyes were still slightly red, dried and twitching from the Scura rune earlier, but she could ignore that flesh wound if it were for her little sister's medicine.
L: "Cestia!?"
C: "It's mine now, Loar. You lose."
Cestia waved the rope around her hand in a proud manner, but-
-the token on the rope was snatched away. A white membrane coated a student with orange... Brown?... Rustic brown hair.
"I... I did it! I managed to get a token! YES!!"
... Nobody could blame him. Those were the rules of the match, after all. Loar, Cestia and the bald student could only sigh in misery at the anti-climactic conclusion.
C: "It should have been mine..."
L: "The unsung heroes never win."
… For what it's worth, at least I can sleep well tonight."
The three sung their grievances in unison as they watched the timid Pitin walk away with a radiant smile on his face.