Bacorium Legacy (12 page)

Luca held back a cynical retort. Perhaps in stories, that might be true. But in the real world, the outcome of a fight depended on who had the better weapon. And right now, that was Zinoro.

“Besides, I couldn't train you anyway,” Dori muttered. “I have my own good-for-nothing apprentice to deal with. Speaking of which, where is he? I think you should meet him.”

“I believe he is sparring with my own apprentice in the central ring,” Tranom said, who was walking behind them with a silent Emila.

“Ah, excellent,” Dori said, grinning for the first time. “Let's go watch, shall we?”

The elderly man moved with surprising energy, heading for the sand arena in the middle of the temple that Luca and Emila had passed on their way in. A small crowd was gathered around the two students in the centre, and a lone instructor monitored the match. As they drew closer, they could see that the students wore wooden armour, complete with masked helmets that concealed their identities.

Luca also noticed that a large portion of the audience was comprised of young girls, who were watching the taller of the fighters with doe-eyed expressions.

The slightly shorter fighter moved with agility and speed, dodging most blows rather than blocking them, and attacking whenever he saw an opening. Despite this, the taller fighter was clearly more skilled - his movements were minimal yet effective, and he wielded his wooden sword like an extension of his arm. He was focusing on pure defence, ignoring many opportunities to counter, yet he was still wearing his opponent down.

In fact, he almost seemed to be toying with the other fighter.

“Apprentice!” Tranom shouted. “Wrap this up. Dori needs his student.”

The tall fighter glanced at Tranom for a second, before lunging forth and switching to an aggressive offencive attack. Suddenly, the entire fight was reversed, with the taller fighter forcing the fast one into defence. Within ten strokes of their weapons, the other student was disarmed and on his back.

Luca tried not to show surprise. He considered himself a rather skilled swordsman, but even he could not have pulled off a feat like that.

The tall swordsman tossed his wooden sword aside and pulled off his helmet, revealing a olive-skinned, handsome face with slick black hair, and piercing auburn eyes. He looked over at the many girls gathered to watch him, and he winked.

The fangirls exploded with squees and giggles.

“Alright, that's enough!” declared the instructor who had supervised the match. “Dismissed! Everyone clear out!”

The other fighter rose and began to leave, not even bothering to take off the helmet.

“Ash!” Dori yelled after him. “Come here! I need to speak with you!”

The student either ignored Dori, or did not hear him. Regardless, he continued marching away in the opposite direction.

Dori growled. “Damn obstinate boy. Wait here, Luca. I'll bring him back.”

As Dori rushed off, Luca turned to Tranom. “Why does he want me to meet his apprentice so badly?”

Tranom hesitated. “It's not really my place to say.”

Having removed the rest of the wooden armour, and gotten rid of the crowd of girls, the tall fighter joined them. He moved right past Luca, and extended his hand to Emila first.

“Hello,” he said to her. “Who might you be?”

Emila meekly took his hand and replied, “Emila.”

“My name is Brand,” he said, placing a kiss on the back of her hand. “Will you be training here with us?”

“Oh, no,” Emila said, her cheeks turning red. “I'm uh, just staying here for a bit.”

“Too bad,” Brand said. “I could have shown you a thing or two.”

“That was quite a display,” Luca said to him, a bit louder than he would have liked.

Brand let Emila's hand go, which she uncomfortably wiped on the hem of her skirt. “The sparring match, you mean?” he asked.

“You were toying with your opponent,” Luca told him. “You could have taken him down at any time. Why draw it out?”

Brand stared at Luca for a moment, taking note of his white hair. “There's a bit of history between the two of us. I rarely get such a chance to vent my frustration with him.”

“And you were showing off for those girls.”

“Just giving them what they wanted.”

They stared at each other for a moment, some sort of unspoken challenge in the air. Emila and Tranom watched silently, waiting for something to happen, whatever it may be.

“Will
you
be training here, then?” Brand asked Luca.
 

“Perhaps,” he replied. “If I need it.”

Brand met his intense stare for a moment more, before lunging towards Luca suddenly and without warning, swinging the wooden sword he still carried at his side. Emila gasped aloud, but Luca had already drawn his own sword, and parried the blow.

The black haired boy broke out into a wide grin.

“You don't need it,” Brand told him. “Your reflexes are sharp. Who trained you?”

“My father,” Luca replied.

“Of course,” Brand said, pulling the training sword back, looking at the long slash that Luca's steel blade had left in it from the contact. “The great Lodin. I wouldn't mind having a match with you up in that arena.”

Luca felt some sort of competitive urge welling up in him, and he had a hard time saying no to Brand's challenge.

Tranom sighed. “You kids.”

<> <> <>

It took some time for Dori to catch up with his student, who had returned to his chambers, and was currently stripping away his training armour.

“Did you not hear me calling for you, boy?” Dori demanded.

Ash did not reply.

“No, I know you did,” Dori muttered. “That damn rebellious streak is gonna get you in a lot of trouble some day, you know that?”

Ash removed his helmet, and turned to face his teacher, brushing his long white hair out of his eyes.

“I have no desire to speak with him,” Ash said quietly. “You should understand why.”

Dori frowned. “Really? Ash, he's your last surviving kin. There's no sense in avoiding this confrontation. Sooner or later, he'll find out. He'll see you, or someone will break our rule and tell him who you are. He's your older brother, Ash - what would your mother think?”

Ash glared at Dori. “Don't use her against me. You have no right -
master
.”
 

Dori turned away and looked at the floor, too stubborn to admit Ash was right.

Ash put the rest of his white apprentice cloak on, and pulled his long hair back into a ponytail.

“I'm going to see him when I feel like it,” Ash said. “On my terms, not yours.”

Dori considered that for a bit. “Very well. You will see him when you choose to. I will speak to Allma, and ensure no one ruins that for you.”

<> <> <>

Tranom took Luca and Emila and showed them to where they would be staying, which was one of the unoccupied student bed chambers. Being considered a guest, Luca was free to stay as long as he wished, and he had access to any of the temple's facilities, so long as he did not disrupt the usual training activities.

As Emila was considered his responsibility, she would not be getting her own bedchamber. Neither of them minded, as they had travelled for a week already, taking turns sleeping with no tent or privacy. Sharing a single room was an improvement.

That is, until they stepped inside and saw the room.

“Um...” Emila muttered. “There's only one bed.”

Luca turned to Tranom, feeling a bit irritated. “As much as we appreciate your hospitality, what exactly is this supposed to suggest?”

Tranom raised an eyebrow. “I suggest nothing. All our rooms are like this. A single bed, to be shared by two students.”

The two teenagers exchanged confused glances. “What's the point of that?” Emila asked.

“It encourages competition among them,” Tranom explained. “Or that's what they're supposed to think. It actually teaches them how to get along and manage with limited resources. After long days of difficult training, both students will want to sleep in the bed. Sometimes this leads to fights. Sometimes this leads to both students uncomfortably sharing a bed too small for them. Most of the time, though, they have to figure out a compromise. The beginnings of teamwork.”

Luca rolled his eyes. “An odd method, to say the least.”

“Perhaps,” Tranom said. “But an important part of the training here is figuring out things for yourself. The masters provide the tools and the means for this, but only through self-discovery can one grow strong.”

Luca thought back to his father, and the odd spell he had been trying to teach him in his final days, where one was to master the spell without actually learning what it did. He hadn't been able to. Now the scroll he needed to practise the technique and the man who knew its secret were both lost in the frozen wasteland of the Arimos, gone forever.

“Here,” Tranom said, tossing him the key to the room. “Whatever goes on behind closed doors is your own business.”

The sun was just beginning to set. Tranom turned and left, leaving them alone before the open bedroom.

And its single bed.

He handed Emila the key and pulled his bags off his shoulder and tossed them into the corner. “We still have all our travel supplies. I'll use my sleeping bag. You can take the bed.”

“That's not necessary,” Emila insisted, stepping inside and closing the door. “We can take turns.”

“The chivalrous thing to do is let the lady have the bed,” he told her. “I just wouldn't be comfortable sleeping in that bed with you on the floor, even if it's only every other day.”

“Well, that's how I feel!” Emila protested. “Taking turns is the best thing. You'll get back problems or something if you sleep on the floor all the time.”

“I don't want the damn thing, Emila,” Luca told her. “I'd rather sleep on the hard, cold ground. Comfort leads to apathy.”

“Well, sometimes you need to just let good things happen!” Emila nearly shouted. “You can't live with just cold distance all the time!”

“Who says I can't?”

“I do!”

An awkward silence settled over the room. Somehow, he got the feeling they weren't talking about the bed anymore.

“I'm not using it,” he said, pointing to the bed. “Ever.”

“Well, neither am I,” Emila said, her chin in the air. “So I guess we'll both be sleeping on the floor.”

“That's ridiculous,” Luca said. “Just sleep in the damn bed, Emila.”

“Not unless you do,” she said, crossing her arms. “And that's final.”

They stared at each other, the tension thick in the air. An immeasurable amount of time passed.

Finally, he shrugged. “Very well. Enjoy the floor.”

<> <> <>

“Very well. I will have all the students and masters told before the morning.” Allma scratched his beard. “So what do you think about them?”

Dori paced back and forth in the stone chamber, leaning on his walking stick. “Luca is a lot like his father. And his brother. Stubborn, foolhardy, defiant. He'll do things his way, and no other way. He'll fight anyone who challenges him, and he'll die before he gives his enemy the satisfaction of a surrender. Unlike his brother, he still has some degree of respect for his father.” Dori stopped. “And he wants to kill Zinoro more than anything.”

Allma nodded. “And what about the girl?”

“That Emila?” Dori muttered. “She's just as stubborn, but she's more selective about the things she fights for. She's not as submissive as she lets on, nor is she as naive. Still, she's an optimist, and most importantly, she doesn't like killing.”

“And why do you think that is?”

Dori shrugged. “Who knows?”

Allma shifted in his seat, switching the knuckles he rested his chin on. “Your ability to psychoanalyse was always your best trait, old friend.”

At those last two words, Dori found himself glaring at the man in the seat. Allma did not notice - he was deep in thought.

“And what's the point of this rule of yours?” Dori asked. “Why not just tell Luca about his brother?”

“I have my reasons,” Allma replied. “For the most part, I want to learn a little more about this son of Lodin. We know that Lodin fled with his older son, to train him while he hid from Zinoro, but why would he leave behind the younger son?”

“And his wife,” Dori reminded him.

“Indeed,” Allma said. “If Luca finds out about Ash now, it might draw away from that. For now, let him ponder why Lodin sent him to you, while you train him.”

“So this is definite, then? I have to train both sons?”

Allma grinned. “Why not? Keep it a family affair, right?”

Dori scowled, and turned away from the leader, leaning on his cane.

“He wants revenge for his father's death,” Allma muttered. “He's ambitious to go after that man - or perhaps he simply doesn't grasp the situation. Do you think he has a chance at beating Zinoro?”

Dori frowned. “A better chance than anyone else here. A better chance than his brother, by far.”

“Well, the emissary from Sono should be here in a week. Can you get him ready by then?”

Dori nodded. “His fighting abilities are sufficient. I'll teach him what I can, but you can't put more tea in a cup that's already full. He's reckless, but he's young. That's not the problem.”

“The problem is that he's too wild,” Allma said. “He's not actually one of our students, so our capacity to use him is limited.”

“I guess we'll just have to wait and see what the emissary is after. All we can do is make our best offers and hope for the best.”

“Perhaps,” Allma muttered, his eyes distant and thoughtful. He remained like this for several long moments, which Dori took as his sign that the conversation was over. His cane clicking on the stone floor, the old teacher made his way out of the sanctum.

“His arrival is unexpected, but I think I can make it work,” Allma said to himself quietly. “So many variables to consider - but I do think I can make this work.”

<> <> <>

“You really have no place you want to go?” Luca asked. “Nowhere at all?”

Emila sighed, and rolled over in her sleeping bag. Luca lay on the other side of the room, his hands clasped behind his head.