Kings Game

Chapter 13 - Preparations (1)

Kell took Roran back down to the small training arena where she had first taught him swordplay. Being small and out of the way, nobody else was there to bother them. Roran was concerned that Kell would comment on his lack of shield and sword, but instead of saying anything, she just found a pair of wooden practice swords and tossed him one.

Though the edge was blunt and made of wood, it was weighted and felt like real steel in his hands. Despite the heft, Kell twirled hers around like it was nothing.

"So," she said, "You'll probably be facing off against skilled swordsmen like Morena. If you want to stand a chance against them, you have to play for keeps. You know what I mean?"

"I have to kill them," said Roran.

"Not just that, you have to want to kill them. This isn't going to be like before, where you're trading a couple of swings with amateurs. If you don't go at them with everything you've got, you'll die. There isn't going to be room for doubts or second guessing yourself. This is a game of life of death, kill or be killed."

Roran nodded. "I know."

"Do you?"

Roran swallowed and nodded again.

Kell stared at him, as if weighing his determination. Roran didn't flinch or back down.

Kell shrugged. "I guess we'll find out one way or the other. Alright, come at me with everything you've got. If you hold back I'll know and I'll kick your ass for it."

Roran charged at Kell, swinging with every ounce of strength he had. Memories of her twisting his ear added fire to his motions, she wouldn't tolerate anything less than his best.

Kell blocked Roran's first strike with ease. Roran swung again, harder this time. Kell blocked again, the impact jarring Roran's hands and hurting his palms. Roran struck again and again and again. Each time, Kell blocked his strike, moving with elegance and speed.

Roran paused, catching his breath and adjusting his grip.

"That all you got?" Kell was grinning at him, ready for more.

Roran snarled and lunged, this time thinking of dead bodies in the Crucible, bleeding out into the dirt while confetti rained down from on high. He pictured his own corpse in the dirt, blood gluing the colorful bits of paper to his face and heck.

His sword smashed into Kell's, the impact pushing her backwards. He lunged again, pushing himself harder. This time the impact forced Kell back, her feet sliding in the dirt. Using both hands, Roran brought the sword around and crashed it into Kell. Kell grimaced, putting her weight into blocking Roran's strike. Kell's guard faltered, but she caught herself and pushed forward, shoving Roran back.

"Stop!"

Kell and Roran both jumped. Roran looked at Nul, surprised by the interruption, while Kell looked away sheepishly.

"No using focus markings," Nul said, glaring at Kell, "you're stronger and more skilled, if he lands a hit then accept it."

Kell stuck her tongue out at Nul.

"I'm confused," said Roran. "What happened?"

"You almost broke Kell's guard, then she cheated and activated her focus markings to push you back."

"Oh, I didn't see anything."

"These markings affect skin and muscle," said Nul, "you wouldn't see any external effects. Not unless you know what you're looking for." Nul glared at Kell again.

"It was an accident!" Kell crossed her arms and pouted. "I didn't mean to, I'm just not used to people catching me off guard. That was a good strike by the way. If you fight like that during the event then you might actually survive."

Roran nodded.

"Alright, ready to go again?"

Instead of responding, Roran lunged, swinging his blade at Kell. She grinned and raised her sword to meet him.

They continued back and forth for a couple hours. Kell paused the fight only to give Roran the occasional pointer. She focused more on improving his coordination and spatial awareness than his technique.

"Good technique is useful, but only against other skilled swordsmen. You need to be quick on your feet and comfortable improvising as you go. Top tier swordsmanship won't help you much when Duran smashes you with his hammer."

Roran only nodded and kept moving, and kept striking. He could feel blisters forming on his hands but he didn't care. He would need to push himself as much as he could before the event.

Finally, when Roran's hands were numb and shaking, Kell ordered him to drop the sword. It slipped from his fingers, slick with sweat and blood. He looked down at his palms. They were covered in shredded blisters. Looking up, he saw Kell grinning at him.

"You did good kid, you're a fast learner. Don't relax just yet, we're not done. I need to do my exercises and you need to work on your stamina. Start running laps. Once I finish my routine we'll get your hands cleaned up and go take a bath."

Too tired to complain, Roran started jogging around the training arena. With Roran squared away, Kell retrieved her spear and headed for one of the walls. Along it was a large panel of wood twice as tall as Kell and made entirely from small squares. Nul joined Kell at the wall and headed behind the panel. Nul fiddled with something then stepped back.

"Three?" Nul asked.

"Make it four," said Kell.

Nul nodded and went back behind the panel. Kell grasped her spear and took a fighting stance. There came a loud click and four of the squares flipped around, showing targets. Kell struck at the targets, moving like lightning. Her spear stabbed each target in quick succession. All but one hit the bullseye.

Clicking her tongue, Kell scowled. "Again," she said.

There was another click and the squares rotated again, the targets disappearing and new ones taking their place, randomly dispersed across the panel. Kell struck again and again, the tip of her spear dancing along the boards.

Her performance was inhuman. In the time it took Roran to swing his sword once, Kell could deliver four extremely accurate jabs with her spear. Roran wondered if she was using focus markings or if she was just this skilled.

Roran continued to run laps while Kell drilled with her spear over and over again. When she was satisfied that she could strike four targets dead center, she increased it to five and then to six, honing her skills to a razor's edge. Finally, when Roran was gasping for air and his feet were dragging in the dirt, Kell called it quits.

"Alright kid, take a breather then let's go find a bathhouse."