Chapter 16: Chapter 15: Round 1 (III)

-----The Arcanist-----

“The first round has officially begun.”

As soon as the words were spoken, Lotti realized what a bad position she had put herself in. She had forced herself all the way to the base of the podium, at the front of the entire crowd of fighters. Basically sandwiching herself between the competitors and the platform. And everyone was drawing their weapons.

A few of the competitors withdrew from the crowd, or made attempts to only to be stopped by attacks from their foes. Most of those around Lotti seemed to have come to conclusion that their best strategy was to immediately attack their closest neighbor. It became a chaotic flurry of swords, spears, and steel rods.

Did I accidentally go to the melee fighters’ podium? Lotti wondered. Maybe her lack of a notable weapon of her own protected her from being the immediate target of an attack. Or maybe she was just so much smaller than everyone else that they didn’t notice her. Either way, she decided to try and sneak through the chaos and see if she couldn’t find a way clear.

She noted that most of the fighting was being conducted with weapons made of steel or other metals. It gave her an idea of how she might defend herself if one of the fighters noticed her. While still holding her spellbook to her side, she silently fingered the pages. She counted in her head until she reached the fourteenth page from the cover, then placed her forefinger on that page to save the place.

Slowly, quietly, she snuck around all the fighting. On her left, two men were striking at each other with longswords, their strokes and parries lightning quick. On her right, a woman wearing a helmet and chain armor was making continuous thrusts with a spear against a shirtless man wielding a metal staff; the man with the staff twirled it in front of him, deflecting the spear time and time again. Neither of those groups seemed to pay any attention to Lotti as she passed by.

For a moment, it seemed like she was going to be able to escape the melee without running into any trouble. She could see an opening just ahead where she may be able to break into a run and get away.

A man bumped into her. Or more accurately, he was tossed into her. The force of the impact sent them both to the ground, and Lotti nearly lost her grip on her spellbook. She did lose track on her chosen page.

The fighter who hit her groaned in frustration at Lotti, as if she was the one responsible for him falling, and shoved her away before grabbing his sword and pushing himself back on his feet.

He wasn’t on his feet for long, though, as Lotti bore witness to how he had been tossed in the first place. A big man wearing plate armor was wielding a massive shield almost as tall as he was as if it was a weapon. The swordsman had barely raised his own weapon when the broad side of that giant shield came slamming into him. He went flying off his feet, over Lotti, and hard to the ground.

The shield wielder rushed after his fallen prey, and Lotti had to roll out of the way to avoid being trampled by a metal boot. The armored man raised his shield high, and then slammed the flat bottom edge of it down on the swordsman face. There was a splatter of blood as the swordsman’s face was broken in. The armored man was apparently not satisfied yet with his victory, as he brought the shield up just to bring it crashing down once more. This time, the force caused the face to burst, like a pumpkin filled with blood and teeth.

Some of the viscera projectiles reached Lotti’s cheek. Horrified, she tried to crawl away from the gruesome scene. She didn’t get far, as something snagged on her robes and held her in place.

She looked over her shoulder and saw the shield wielder stepped on the back of her robes. He was looking directly at her with a cocky smile on his face.

“Two competitors defeated in the first minutes of the tournament,” he said, gleefully. “I wonder if that’s a record.”

“I think I read one previous champion defeated ten opponents in the first round of a previous tournament,” Lotti said. Even now, she couldn’t help blurting out a fact she had researched.

The shield wielder arched an eyebrow at her. “Is that so? Guess I better be done with you quickly, so I can start working on the next.”

He raised his shield, intent on giving her the same treatment he gave the swordsman.

Lotti desperately flipped open her spellbook, hoping she still had the right page. She ran her fingers across the first symbols at the top of the page, starting the chain activation of the symbology of the spell.

The Lyris-laden ink leaped off the page, leaving a pulsing silver glow in its wake. Her spellbook threatened to jump from her hands as the power began to spill out of it. The pages turned on their own, compelled by the chained symbology, rapidly flipping until it reached the final symbols of the spell. If she had found the right page, the metal writs for nearby targets, sustained effect, force, and reject should cast the spell Push Metal. As the spell’s name implied, it should push metal objects near her directly away from her for about a minute. It seemed like a handy spell for disarming people, though she wasn’t sure how effective it would be against such a massive shield.

A four-page spell was cast, and the shield wielder froze in place. His face became strained with effort.

“What … what did you do?” he growled between gritted teeth.

It looked like she had cast the right spell. He was fighting against it, but it should buy her a minute to escape. She got back to her feet –

The shield wielder slipped across the ground towards her. That’s when Lotti realized he wasn’t straining to keep from being sent back – he was straining from being sent forward.

“Oh, no,” was all Lotti had time to say before the armored warrior came towards sliding towards her.

There were a couple of times when picking what to include in her spellbook where Lotti had been stuck between two forms of a spell. One of those cases was when picking between the Push Metal and Pull Metal spells. The push variant could be useful for knocking weapons from people’s hands, where the pull variant could help in a situation where she needed to grab something from a distance. The two spells were only different by one writ, so she could connect the variant symbols with the branch writ.

Simply put, by adding two additional pages to the four-page spell, she would be able to choose which variant of the spell she wanted to use at the time of casting by picking the correct starting symbol If she had picked page fourteen, it would have been Push Metal. But since she had accidentally picked page sixteen…

The armored man crashed into her. The force continued to pull him into her, and since he weighed so much more than her, she was shoved backwards.

They went soaring past the other fighters, and Lotti was aware of shouts and exclamations of surprise as the magnetic pull surrounding her grabbed their weapons and she passed by. Her flight was only stopped when her back hit the platform. If the armored man hadn’t been straining against the effect the entire time, and instead let himself impact her at full force, she probably would have been crushed to death. As it was, the impact knocked the wind out of her, and she struggled to regain her breath as the big man squashed her against the platform.

A barrage of metal weapons came flying at them, drawn by her pull. Her opponent barely managed to shift his shield behind him in time to block a number of swords, spears, and staves.

“Are you crazy?” he growled. “You’re going to kill both of us!”

Lotti’s arms were pinned, so she could only manipulate the spellbook with one hand, but she thought she had the right page this time. She couldn’t raise the book to confirm, so she just ran her fingers across the top of the page and hoped for the best.

By activating the branching push writ, she changed the currently active spell effect to the other variant for the remainder of its duration. After a brief flash of that familiar silver glow, everything shifted away from her.

First, the weapons that had been pressing against the armored man’s shield went soaring out. Their owners, who had gotten closer to try to recover their weapons, had to dive out of the way to keep from being impaled with their own weapons. Her foe followed right behind, still clutching his shield, as the spell compelled both it and his armor to get away from her. He kept gliding away, and away, until he slammed into a shack. Then continued further, breaking the wooden wall and disappearing inside.

That was a far greater effect than she was expecting for a spell with only one force writ. Lotti wasn’t too experienced with Metal symbology, but she was expecting something that would knock a sword out of someone’s hand, not send a grown man in full armor colliding through a wall.

All eyes were now on Lotti. The remaining competitors around her had all been disarmed, and their expressions suggested they were concerned about what Lotti would do next.

“Uh – yeah, that’s right!” Lotti declared, deciding to try and play into the role she had been given. “I’m an Arcanist! A pow-er-ful Arcanist! Flee before my might spells!”

She wiggled her fingers in front of herself as if it was some kind of incantation.

The competitors scrambled. It looked like most of them were going after their weapons, but at least a couple of them seemed like they were fleeing for their lives. She took the small victory and decided to get out of there before the rest of them returned.

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She sprinted away from the pier for as long as she could. Which wasn’t particularly long. She was beginning to regret her decision not to participate in any of the sports or exercise classes offered by the academy. Always seemed like a waste of time, when she could be studying. After even her short sprint she had to stop and lean against a nearby post to catch her breath.

“Hey there.”

Lotti spun around, opening her spellbook as she did. She had no idea what page she was on or what spell she had turned to; she just hoped that the act would seem threating.

A young man with thick, tortoise-shell spectacles held up his hands defensively. “Woah, hold on. Easy. Not looking for a fight.”

“Yeah … well, good thing you aren’t … because I would … I’d blow you up! With magic!” Lotti had no idea how to be threatening.

He kept his hands raised. “I’m sure you would. That was a really impressive display you put on back there. You basically defeated an entire group of competitors single-handedly. That’s why I decided to follow you. I was hoping I could convince you into an alliance.”

“An alliance?” Lotti slowly lowered her book. “You want to team up with me?”

“My name is Jovan. I might not look like much, but I consider myself pretty clever, and I’d prefer to partner with someone else who relies on brains over brawn. I figure our two heads working together would be better than one.”

Lotti looked him over. He was right: he wasn’t particularly impressive, physically at least. Not that she was one to talk. But even so, having an alliance might not be the worst idea. If nothing else, having someone who could distract their opponents while she found the right page in her spellbook could be very useful.

“I can see you’re still debating it,” Jovan said. “But know I’m not coming into his empty handed. I’ve already determined the location of one of the boats. One that’s hidden enough that others are unlikely to have found it already.”

“Really? How did you do that?”

He smirked and adjusted his spectacles. “Like I said – I’m clever.”

She couldn’t help but feel impressed. “If that’s true, it would be foolish of me not to accept. I’m Lotti. Looking forward to working with you.”

Lotti was feeling better about her chances than she had since she had first accepted the invitation. Back then, she wasn’t sure if she would even be able to survive the first round. Now she had not only beaten her first opponent, she had found a valuable partner. Maybe she could get through this thing after all.

Javon led her a short way deeper into the tournament grounds and towards a metal shed just slightly removed from the pier. He glanced both ways before opening the door and ushering her inside.

It looked like a storage shed. Shelves of tools, cleaning supplies, and lumber lined each wall.

“There’s a boat in here?” Lotti ask, feeling like her new partner might not be as clever as he claimed.

“I told you it was hidden enough that the others weren’t going to find it,” he insisted. “We need to pull the back shelf out. Come help me with it.”

Javon grabbed one end of the shelf on the back wall and gestured for Lotti to do the same. She grumbled about having to move something heavy but complied. She put her spellbook down on top of the shelf and then grabbed her end.

“Alright, on three we pull,” Javon said. “One…two…”

There was a clicking sound that Lotti didn’t immediately place. And the sensation of something cold on her wrist. She looked down and saw that her wrist had been shackled. Javon smirked as he attached the other end of the shackles to the shelf.

“What – what are you doing?” Lotti asked, but a sinking feeling in her chest already gave her the answer.

“Sorry, Lotti. I was telling the truth before – I was very impressed by your performance back at the podium. And I decided you weren’t the kind of person I wanted to fight later. Hope you understand.”

Lotti reached for her spellbook, but Javon was surprisingly quick. He grabbed the spellbook from the shelf and held it out of her reach.

“I think I’ll just hold onto this for now,” Javon said. “I’ll be sure to return it to you once the tournament is over.”

She grabbed him by the shirt and tried to pull him in, hoping she could get the spellbook from him in a grapple. He responded by hitting her on the side of her head with the back of his hand. Her ears wrong from the impact and she let go.

“Sorry about that. I was trying not to be too rough with you, but if you want to get physical, I am more than willing to be as well.”

Lotti scowled at him while clutching the side of her face. “I’ll get you back for this.”

He shrugged. “Be nice. When I control the flow of Lyris, the academy is going to want to be on my good side.”

As he walked away, taking her spellbook and hopes for victory with him, the door to the shed opened again.

The armored fighter stood in the doorway. He was bleeding from several cuts on his face and had some big splinters of wood sticking out of his armor. And he was not looking particularly happy.

“You thought you could escape me,” he growled.

Lotti struggled against her shackles. This guy wasn’t just trying to eliminate her from the tournament; he was going to kill her. The shelf shifted slightly from her efforts, but was too heavy for her to move significantly.

The shield bearer looked between her and Javon, as if just now realizing that she wasn’t alone.

Javon raised his hands defensively. “Ah, good. You were following. I thought you were, but I couldn’t be sure if you would give up. I happened to trap this one for you. Even robbed her of her spellbook so she can’t pull any more tricks.”

“Oh, did you?” He didn’t sound like he believed Javon.

Lotti didn’t know if calling Javon out as a liar would do anything to save her. Though it might result in Javon suffering the same fate as her, which could be satisfying.

“You’re clearly the strongest fighter in this tournament,” Javon continued. “You made that much clear in your opening fight. I think a combination of my brains and your brawn would make a devastating team. We could dominate the competition. Consider this trapped Arcanist the proof of my capabilities.”

The armored fighter’s ego was thoroughly stroked, and he smirked. “I’ll consider a partnership. But first, I’m going to murder this bitch who thought she could humiliate me.”

He took a broad step forward and raised his shield. Lotti froze, not able to think of any way out of this. She shut her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

CRACK.

There was the thunderous sound of a heavy impact. But it wasn’t Lotti who had been hit.

The armored man dropped face-first to the ground. The back of his skull was already colored crimson, and more blood was leaking out of it and pooling around him.

A silvery metal pole was in Javon’s hand, its end stained with blood. He pulled out a cloth and wiped the pole clean.

“He was awfully persistent, huh?” Javon commented. “If he was a little smarter, he might have made it far. But he turned his back to an opponent.”

Lotti was still shaking. She wasn’t sure how much of it was lingering fear and how much was anger. “So is that your plan? Just to lie and trick your way to the top?”

“For as long as that works,” he replied, his voice neutral. “ I’ve got a few other tricks up my sleeve for when the time comes. When we meet again, I’ll be sure to tell you all about them.”

With that he left, leaving Lotti to sulk in her defeat. She looked at the shackle, trying to reason if there was any way to get it off. Or break the shelf that she was hooked to…

While examining the shackle, her eyes fell on the bracelet that Anika had given her, reminding her that she had one more tool at her disposal.

“Hey, Kid, can you do something about this shackle?” She wasn’t sure of all the features that Anika had given the construct over the years, but it was worth a shot.

The bracelet snapped open and took the form of the silver lizard. It crawled up her wrist to the shackle, then went to work on the chains with the sharp ends of its limbs. Immediately she saw it making progress, working through the chain as if its limbs were little saws.

Before she could celebrate her victory, the door opened again.

Oh, come on! How many people want to go into this random shed!

Her frustration turned to surprise when she saw who entered – the musician she had met on the ferry, Emory.

“You!” she called out.

“Ah, Arcanist Lotti. It is a pleasure to see you again. It appears you have been having a rough time.” He tapped at the unconscious body of the armored fighter with his foot, eliciting a groan. “Not as rough as this one, thankfully.”

“You’re a liar as well, then,” she said, disappointed.

He looked surprised. “However do you mean?”

“You told me you weren’t entering the tournament!” she practically shouted, her frustration boiling over.

“I never said that,” he said as he walked to the shelf on the right of the shed. “All I said was I didn’t intend to fight in it. That was and remains completely true.”

Lotti became confused. “So, you are entering the tournament … but you’re not fighting in it?”

“I want to observe the fighters. Learn their stories. Gain inspiration for my songs,” he replied. “Unfortunately, becoming one of the ‘official’ observers proved to more difficult than getting my hands on an invitation. And so, I find myself in the trenches, observing the fighters while having to pose as one of them. It’s quite exciting. Although there are some inconveniences to the approach. Like needing to find a way to progress to the next round if I want to continue my observation.”

The chain snapped as Kid finished its work. Having completed its task, it crawled back down to her wrist and returned to its bracelet form.

“Well, you’re looking in the wrong place for that,” Lotti said. “Nothing in here but crushed dreams.”

“Is that so?”

“It is for me at least. One of the other competitors tricked me, locked me in here, and stole my spellbook. I don’t even know if I could catch up to him to get it back if I tried.”

“Most unfortunate,” Emory agreed. “It would indeed be tough to catch him here. Likely, if he’s smart, he’ll have started his way across to the island long before you could find him.”

Lotti conceded that Javon was intelligent, and if he wasn’t on a boat already, he would be soon.

“Ah, here it is,” Emory declared, pushing aside some of the tools on the shelf and removing a box. “An inflatable raft. This should be just the ticket to get me across to the island.”

She glanced over his shoulder at the box, which was marked as an inflatable raft, just as he said. “How did you know this was here?”

“Because that’s how this song goes.” He gave her a wink.

She figured she wasn’t going to get anything more out of him. “Well, congratulations on finding your way to the next round, I guess.”

“You know, this raft seats two people.” He set down the box, pulled his cittern from the sling on his back, and stummed a note. “It appears to me that you have a choice to make. Back on the ferry, I proposed to you this scenario: If given the opportunity to concede the tournament in the first round and escape with your life, would you take it? Back then you did not have a clear answer.” He strummed another note. “Now, that opportunity is no longer theoretical, but real. You have been disarmed, defeated. None would blame you if you decided this is as far your tournament journey goes. You can hide in here the remained of the night – it is unlikely anyone else will come to this place – or you can try to get the attention of the Officiators and tender your surrender formally. You can return to your academy with the completely truthful tale of your attempt, and be lauded for doing you best.”

He strummed a few more notes, turning into a familiar tune. The same one he had been playing on the ferry. “But if a fire burns in your belly, if those dreams of using Lyris to benefit the academy and the common man hold enough value to you, I offer you the second seat on this raft. You may be able to track down the man who stole your spellbook on the island. Or you may meet your end the moment you step foot on the shore. Unlike with the first option, there is no way to know what comes next. The only guarantee is that is will be challenging.”

The last few notes lingered in the air as he finished playing. “So, the question is simple: do you join me in continuing the struggle into the next round, or do you protect your life and go home?”

Lotti came to an answer quickly, and it was not what she expected. “I want to come with you.”

He nodded as if he had expected that answer. “Then let us be on our way. This raft won’t go as fast as the other boats, but if we leave now, we should still make it to shore before morning.”

As Lotti followed the musician down the pier to inflate the raft and begin their journey across the sea, she recognized how bad the decision she was making was. If Anika was here, she would be furious. But having her spellbook stolen was a crime she couldn’t forgive. Whatever happened next, she was going to get it back.

She just wasn’t sure how.