Dark Energy by carlsojos

Chapter 6

The Defense room is actually a series of hallways and rooms that comprise the entire original basement of Piata Academy, now affectionately called "The Gauntlet," plus an expanded entryway for the actual classes. After a breakout of monsters forced the principal at the time to contact the Hunter's Guild in Aiedo for assistance, they fell into disuse out of fear of another breakout. Supposedly, a traveling martial artist showed up one day, and convinced the principal to let him host self defense and combat classes, using some old machines found in the bowels of the basement to provide real targets for students. As I walk down the stairs, I notice a loud bang, then another a few seconds later. I look around, and see a large display case holding many different items, and a large mat in the center of the room. In the corner, a bald, elderly man sits at a heavily damaged desk. I notice that his ID card only has Instructor Wynell as a name, when he looked up from a form he was filling out.

Hey! Ear Girl! 'bout time you showed up! No wonder he wasn't a professor, with manners like that. I'm still rather sensitive about my appearance, but I resist the temptation to turn around and walk out.

My name's not Ear Girl, it's-

Just makin' sure you can hear me! The old man begins cackling like a villain.

You... As I began to clench my fist, I was interrupted by someone walking in from a metal door labeled WARNING. CHANCE OF INJURY BEYOND THIS POINT.

Easy, chief! I make the jokes, here! I recognize the messy hair immediately, and I notice a strange device in Etirn's hand. Oh, Marika! Long time no see would be a bit less than accurate, but...

Hello. Apparently, the principal decided to put me on that dig you told me about.

Glad to hear it. I notice that there wasn't surprise in his emotion. He must've talked to the principal, too. Or at the least, he knows who did. The Instructor decides to break up the conversation.

Alright, girls. You can chit-chat later, but I need to put this fine young lady through her paces with some steel, first. With a grand gesture towards the display case, Come on over to my little toy box. I walk over to the display case and take a closer look. I notice a large variety of weapons, several different styles of swords, knives, and over to a few more exotic designs, like a boomerang with a sharp edge. There is also a complete set of leather armor, with shield, and several small squares of metal, labeled different names.

Now then, these goodies are samples, donated by weapon smiths and retired warriors from all over Motavia. Every blade handles a little differently, and requires a different technique to use.

Why is that?

Simple. One-on-one combat follows the mantra, Different strokes for different folks.

...What?! It took me a second to notice the double entendre. He simply laughed in response.

By that, I mean that everybody fights a little bit differently. The best blades are tailored to match the hand that uses it. When you fight, not only do you have to find AND exploit the weaknesses of your opponent, you also have to be aware of your own vulnerabilities and capitalize on your strengths. It is for this reason alone, that practice is the only thing that can truly improve your abilities.

I think he is suggesting that I need to do some fighting before I can prove myself worthy. Okay...

You only think you understand what I just said, but I assure you it'll sink in like a sharpened blade shortly. Etirn! Quit hitting on everything in a skirt and get your ass over here!

Etirn had taken off his machines, and walks over to us. What are you talking about? You're the one with the only girl here right now! I take it that these two clowns are friends.

Oh, come on. You know what I'm saying. Anyway, Girl, take a look at these toys. He is holding two identical knives, and extends one to me. I take it, and inspect it. Notice anything unusual?

I've never handled a weapon before.... I run my thumb along the side of the blade. Wait, are these unsharpened?

With a nod, You have good eyes! Most neophytes need a quick slash or two across the ass to notice. When these were donated, I had specifically requested that they come unsharpened. He hands the other knife to Etirn and procures a small, ink-soaked cloth wrapped in leather. Etirn, you know the drill. Girl, rub this ink on your knife-only where the edge would be.

I do so, and decide to ask something, Are you sending us through that gauntlet thing with these?

Ha ha, yeah right. I got enough dead bodies in my closet. I show a confused look, and he continues. Actually, I want you to kick his ass. Obviously implying Etirn.

Huh?

A knife is a really basic weapon, and it adapts easily to many styles thanks to it being light-weight. Many people also carry them since they are also concealable. On the downside, they aren't as powerful as, say, a bastard sword. The short reach also means that I expect to see lumps on both of you regardless of skill. A day full of kicking ass is a good day in my book. But more importantly, I need to see how you fight, so I can pick a good weapon. If I was you, I would've picked to wear something other than a skirt for this exercise. He seems to think that I'm about to get beaten.

I just feel that I had to ask another question as Etirn and I walked onto opposite edges of the mat. Etirn, is everybody on this side of campus this strange?

He begins to laugh. If everybody let their hair down like us, maybe school would be a little more fun. This is the point where the lunatic-in-shorts tries to figure out which weapon fits your personality. He does have a method behind his madness...I think.

Wynell is standing off to one side, and whistles to get our attention. Hey, head in the game! Girl, I know you probably never picked up anything deadlier than a kitchen knife, but I want you to FEEL. Look into yourself. Unleash the anger you have. Don't think, just fight with whatever instinct you have. Fighters on mat, ready?

This is a new experience.

Etirn nodded. You'll get used to it if you fight enough. Take your emotions and channel it into the blade. It'll take more than a bruise to straighten me out.

Fight! Etirn immediately charged me with his knife. I stepped aside and grabbed his knife-hand as it went by. A quick spin, and I was laying on his back, stopping him from swinging back.

Hold! Fighters, return to your positions. No point. C'mon, girl, don't just drop him, beat the shit out of him! I got up, and went back to one side.

That is a decent start, but let's see what happens when I guard, Marika.

The next round starts, and I return the charge. This time, I slide under him to catch him off guard, but instead get a streak of blue running from my naval to my throat.

Hold! One point, Etirn. If that blade was real, you would die a slow and extremely painful death if you're unlucky. If I was lucky, you would be topless now. Return to your positions. Before we start again, Instructor decides to talk a little, first. Remember, Etirn, she's supposed to go in the field tonight; you break it, you buy it, and you don't keep the merchandise, if you know what I mean. Girl, you need some motivation. Close your eyes. I do what he says. For your inspiration, imagine the one material object you hold most dear to you. I instinctively grab at my pendant, a simple cylinder with a small space inside, holding the sole vestige of my childhood. I barely feel a single tear on my cheek from the emotions hidden inside. You seeing it? Now, on the other side of the room, Idiot here is trying to take it from you. Protect it, or Fucker gets it. Ready? I open my eyes.

Kick the shit outta him! I charge forward, just to the side of Etirn, but he charges too. I dodge away when he swings, but I feel his knife pass by my neck. As he follows through, I feel a tug on my neck, and my pendant falls to the floor.

Drop something? Etirn stood with his guard down. I could feel something within me awaken, and I charge again. Etirn raises his knife in anticipation, but I slash his hand, sending the knife airborn. Son of a-! I quickly grab his knife. With a quick swipe at his right calf, he falls to the floor, and the other knife smashes across his face with all my might. A final blow to his chest and I stand up, dropping the knives to pick up my pendant, my rage completely boiled over.

Instructor Wynell is the first person to speak, Holy shit! Marika, baby, I have NEVER seen a chick fight like that in my life! I give an angry look at the instructor, and turn my attention to my pendant.

Nobody will ever take this from me! I storm back up the stairs, but by the time I reached the top step, I could feel that I just did a bad thing. I lean against the wall and close my eyes to try to calm myself. I can barely hear Etirn start talking downstairs.

By Light, what the hell was that?!

I have a feeling that she took my inspiration a bit too literally. You breaking the pendant string pushed her over, I think. It's your fault.

Damn, she hits harder than anything I've ever fought.

Oh, yeah. I can see she drew a little blood there. I've never said this before, but maybe we pushed the girl a little too hard.

You know, I think I'll talk to her. Pass me the washcloth. I'm curious why she feels so attached to that little necklace. It's not expensive looking or anything.

You damn well better watch yourself. You'll never score if she takes your head off.

Unlike you, I'm more interested in mind than body. If you have an idea on her weapon loadout, could you ready the Gauntlet? I think we need to work out a little stress.

Hey, no prob. Just scream if she kills you, I'll help hide your body. I hear someone walking up the stairs towards me.

Marika, are you okay?

...I lost my composure. I'm sorry, Etirn. I turn around; whoa, I did a number on him. A decent bruise was already starting to form on his jaw.

We didn't know we were hitting a nerve of yours. If there was anything we could've done...

No. I let myself go into the mindset as Instructor suggested...I remembered something from the past...

What's so special about that necklace? I knew that question was coming.

It's...it's not the pendant that I hold dear, but something I put inside. I fiddle with the simple clasp on the bottom and procure a small scrap of paper. I gently unroll it and show it to Etirn.

This is...?

The only thing I have of my parents. It was a small picture, painted by some corner artist years ago for 10 meseta. It was small enough to fit in even a money bag packed full with coins, if there was such a thing.

Etirn's eyes widen slightly. I didn't know.... Uh, I'm gonna give you some more time alone. If you feel ready, come back down. There is one more task needed to get Wynell to vouch you in. If we don't finish today, the next supply caravan to Zema is next week, I can postpone the deployment for that long. Etirn gives me the washcloth and walks back down the stairs. I spend a few minutes to finish gathering my wits, then a few more removing the ink- Geez, this stuff is hard to get off!- then I walk down to the Defense room.

Next chapter

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