Chapter 8
Name
~Aaron~
Without another word Gray stepped out of the room with Ethan. Not knowing what to say or think, all I did was sit and watch as they left. What was the deal with those two, I thought as I fell into my cot, did they know each other?
I put the questions to the back of my mind and turned my head to face Gret who lay down in his cot, staring at the ceiling. I felt sorry for my childhood friend, he never liked to fight and he hated causing others harm. I never should have taken him with us.
“If you keep stressing you’re going to grow gray hairs,” I turned and saw Gret with a small smile on his face, “You always stress too much.”
“Gret…” I couldn’t go on; I didn’t know what to say.
Gret laughed a little, “What’s the world coming to? I’m being lectured by a kid,” he looked over at me, “Don’t sweat it Aaron, I’m a big boy.” He swung out of his cot and looked around at all of us, “Anyone hurt?”
Brand and Rook shook their heads, I held up my arm, “I’ve got a cut,” it was just a nick I got when I went easy on the kid I was fighting.
Gret came over to me and put his hands on my arm, within seconds it was closed, “Dang Aaron that was really bad,” he said sarcastically.
“You’re the doctor, aren’t you supposed to treat anything?” I said testing my arm out.
There was a knock at the door and a young official timidly stepped in, “Is this the Dragon Seekers?” he asked quietly.
“Yeah,” said Brand, “What’d you want?”
The official stepped in bringing in a tray filled with food, “Here’s your lunch provided by the tournament, a reward for making it this far.”
“This far?” I asked, “Haven’t you been providing food this whole time?”
The young man looked surprised, “No, we haven’t been giving any food out until now.”
The four of us looked at each other questioningly, hadn’t Gray been saying that the officials gave him the food?
The official set down the tray on the table and hastily started to the door. “Well, uh, thanks,” I said to him before he could leave.
The official turned and smiled, “Um…” he said nervously, “I’ve seen you guys fight, you’re really cool.” I was surprised, he was nervous because of us?
“Thanks,” said Brand, sitting up a little taller, he was more inclined toward hero worship than the rest of us, “What fight did you see?”
“The last one!” the young guy said excitedly, “You are all good, especially the hooded guy. Where is he?” the official looked around the room.
“I don’t know kid,” I said, not really knowing what was happening anymore, “I really don’t know.”
When our fan official left we all talked and wondered where and why Gray got the food. Since the officials didn’t provide it he must have bought it himself but why spend the money on us? We were all thoroughly confused with Gray now, it seemed everything was a mystery with him. Finally we decided that we wouldn’t ask him about it; he was just getting us food, why bother him about it?
Gray came back from his talk with Ethan and saw the food but didn’t show any surprise. An uneasy silence fell in the room as we waited for the day to end. No one mentioned Ethan and we didn’t go and visit his group and neither Ethan nor his group came by. Rook and Gret slept, it seemed that they could never get too much sleep; I guessed that all magic users were just like that. Brand, having more room, decided to exercise and did push-ups, sit-ups, etc, making sure he wouldn’t get soft. Gray got out his other outlandish sword; I didn’t recognize its style but it was beautiful in a strange way. Instead of having two sharp edges it only had one extra sharp side, the other was black and looked blunt, along the metal of the blade was a wavy bluish temper line. I asked him where he got it and Gray said it was a Japanese katana. I had no idea what that was but Gray continued oiling and sharpening the sword.
Meanwhile I patched up the holes in my clothes that had been accumulating over the tournament. I wasn’t ashamed of having to sew, it was a skill needed if you didn’t want to buy clothes all the time or have a wife. Still, I was pretty bad at it and I sewed up the cuts messily. Gray looked at me and muttered something about Frankenstein. Like before, I didn’t know what he meant but all the same I told him to shut up.
I wasn’t all that anxious to sleep but exhaustion took me all the same. At first it was just the usual dreams and nightmares, nothing too bad. But to my dismay I found myself in the same white vision even faster than before. This time there was a white tree and sitting on one of its boughs was the same girl from before. She wasn’t crying or showing any signs mourning but just observed me with curious, distant eyes. Now that I really looked at her I could see she was beautiful in an eerie way, all she wore was a simple white dress and silver hair draped her shoulders in long flowing curls. She was slender and had long graceful arms and legs.
“Done staring?” she asked me and I looked away flustered.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“You came back,” she said in a quiet monotone, “you know, it’s rude to intrude upon people’s private havens.”
“Sorry, ma’am,” I said again, “I’ll try to leave.” I looked around but I didn’t see any exits.
She laughed a little, “No, you might as well stay. Rude isn’t really a word that applies to the noble Aaron.”
I looked up at her, “How do you know my name?”
She laughed as if she was hearing a private joke, “Isn’t this your dream? Logically you should think that I know you because I’m a fragment of your imagination.”
I felt a little embarrassed for not thinking that; it did make sense, “But,” she said, “I might as well tell you that I know your name because I know you. Whether or not I’m a fragment or your imagination I’ll leave up to you.”
“Then what should I call you? What’s your name?” I asked, wanting at least some kind of straight answer.
Sadness seemed to touch her eyes a bit, “I really can’t say,” she seemed to stare into me as she talked, “You see I can’t remember it, someone took it away from me, my very identity. Isn’t that sad?” She looked away from me, towards something in the distance. I turned and saw nothing there.
“Sad,” I whispered. Could magic really do that? To not remember your own name…
I looked around at the white and took a closer look at the tree, it grew from the white floor and it looked more dead than alive, strong but lifeless. “What is this place? Is this a dream?”
“You’re all questions aren’t you?” she said, one eyebrow rising.
I reddened, people always told me I nosed around too much but I didn’t let that stop me, “You didn’t answer my question.”
She smiled without emotion and a shiver ran down my spine, “Questions you mean but you’re right; this place is my own personal heaven and hell. Here is where my wishes are facts and dreams are naught, where it is not real but true.”
I was now confused with all her riddles, this wasn’t real yet it was true? All the sudden I remembered my previous dream how she had the scars on her back. I wondered if those were real.
“Yes they are,” she said, “and I can show you how I got them.”
I jumped in surprise, “You can read my mind?” I said more than asked.
“In here, easy,” she said, “in this place you are just a mind and not a body.” She cocked her head to one side as if contemplating something, “As I said before I can show you how I got my scars. Such a thing should be good for a curious boy like you.” Suddenly she stood right in front of me.
“Huh?” I said but I didn’t get to say anything else, her gray eyes seemed to hypnotize me and I couldn’t break away from them. Slowly the gray took over my sight until it was all I could see. Then the gray became darker and lighter showing a colorless world. My other four senses faded away and all I could do was watch.
A boy sat on the porch of a house holding his head in his hand. There was no one to be seen around him, in fact the house looked like it belonged to a farmer and was probably miles away from anything. The boy, probably five to seven years old looked sad and bored, occasionally looking back at the door to the house.
Above his head was a branch and on it was a little girl about his age. She had short unruly hair and a ragged dress and she peered at him with anxious, excited eyes as if she wanted to play with him. Trying to get a closer look she inched up a rather skinny branch. As she climbed the branch bent more and more and then, exhausted, it broke. She fell right into the lap of the boy and he looked at her as if she was an angel that just fell from heaven. As if falling out of a tree was nothing she jumped to her feet and brushed her dress off. The boy stared at her with wide eyes, not believing what was happening. She turned to him and smiled. Hesitantly, the boy smiled back.
A voice seemed to whisper in my ear, “It all begins with Gray.”
I snapped back to reality. Smells and sounds slowly filled my ears and nose and I realized I was in the room, in the tournament. Wiping the sweat off my face I tried to settle the tremors in my body, they weren’t as bad as before, at least I wasn’t crying. Looking around I saw that the group was awake and were too busy to notice my shaking. From the slightly sleepy faces I could tell it was the morning of the fourth day of the tournament.
I thought back to my dream; I could remember most of it clearly except for the last thing, something about Gray. There was the girl again and she showed me something…a boy and a girl meeting.
My thoughts were groggy from sleep and I steered my mind to just think about today and get fully conscious. Gray, who was the most awake of the group, was sitting at the table crunching an apple.
“Sorry Aaron, we couldn’t save you any food,” said Gret who saw where my gaze was, “the rest of us were up and we couldn’t wake you.”
“You snooze, you lose,” said Brand who I realized was finishing up a piece of bacon.
I glared at Gret, “Not funny,” I said to him.
Gret frowned a little, I knew him too well, “You’re no fun,” he said, handing me the hidden platter of food.
There was only going to be four fights that day and they all were going to take place in the afternoon. The rules changed now, the first person you exchanged blows with was the only person you were allowed to fight with. Later in last round there would be separate fights with each team member singled out. For now it was the quarter finals, we were so close to winning, so close to getting that money. If we made this round we only had to fight two more rounds.
My feet made a crunching sound as they ran through the gravel of the arena. Which one? I thought, scanning the other team, the Boomers. Not wasting any time, Brand charged ahead like a bull. One of the guys on the other team was surprised as Brand rammed into him, knocking his sword out of his hand. Next was Gray with his clear rod-like sword, he headed for a large guy with a sword and a spiked club. The guy’s laugh at Gray’s stature and weapon was cut short when Gray sent a thundering kick right in the fork of his legs. Still running toward the other group I had to flinch, man, I thought, I wouldn’t want to be on Gray’s bad side.
There was a guy running rather slowly in the middle of the group, he had a smug look on his face and he carried himself well. His air of confidence made me target him; he looked like he had the most experience out of the group. His eyes met mine and he raised his sword and started to run toward me. We both charged at each other, swords raised. Just a few steps apart from each other we both swung, almost mirror images. There was that inevitable crack as our blades met but it was louder than usual and it sounded more like lightning cracked right by my ear. It took all my willpower to not drop my sword and put my hands to my ears. Too late I realized his sword was a MAO that handicapped the opponent with sound. The shock of the blow faded and I saw he was swinging his sword at me weakly I raised my sword and barley blocked it, no boom came but I was still discombobulated. Ears ringing I stepped away from him and dodged another sword stroke, not knowing if the boom would come. The best defense with this guy was a good offence so I lunged at him, trying to end the fight as soon as possible. The lunge was weak and he deflected it easily, just letting my sword go down the length of his, there was still no loud sound. Before my sword hit the crosspiece of his sword I twisted my sword around, forcing his to the ground. Using the momentum of my lunge I brought my fist to his face. There was a crack of a different kind when my knuckles smashed into his nose. The smug look on his face was replaced with an angry one and he stepped back, wiping the blood off his face.
Swinging his sword in rapid circles, he advanced; finding my strength again I brought my sword up to meet his. As soon as our swords clashed the deafening sound filled my ears bringing me to my knees. Curse that sword, I thought, if he didn’t have it then I’d be able to really fight him. Dizzy I put my hand to the side of my head and found it wet, looking at my hand I saw blood. My eardrum had burst from the sound and I was feeling the effects. I swayed to one side and through my other ear I just barley heard the swish of the blade narrowly missing me. I rolled to the side and again I heard the sword hitting the ground, missing me. Knowing that I wouldn’t last long like this I quickly got up and parried another swing. A pattern was established; I blocked and got in a punch or hit then the boom came. For every three times our swords hit the loud sound came, crippling me, and every time I just barley dodged his swings. Slowly I was losing ground and tiring quickly, more than once I thought I should use the magic ability of my sword but I kept telling myself I could do without it.
Once again the loud crack of lightning filled my ears and I fell right on my back as if I was hit. The guy stood over me smiling, he knew that I was beat and even though I gave him my fair share of bruises he was now going to win. He lifted his sword and swung, lightning quick I raised my sword and with it on the flat of his blade I twisted it out of his hand. His MAO clattered onto the gravel ground. He reached for it only to find my blade at his neck.
I grabbed his sword off the ground and swung it, testing its balance, “Not bad,” I said, “I wonder how good you are without it?” I threw him my sword and he caught it hesitantly. Obviously uncomfortable without his undefeatable MAO he didn’t seem up to fighting and just looked at my sword with distain. I swung at him, making sure not to use the magic in the weapon. He parried it and reluctantly slashed at me. Now the tables had flipped, blow after blow I dealt and like me he just barley blocked them. I quickly realized that he was just an okay swordsman, using an MAO just masked his mediocre skill. This time I could really get some punches and kicks in, I was sure to hit the same places too, drawing out the pain. It was evident that I was the better swordsman and painfully so. My opponent realized this too and he just dropped my sword and onto his knees, all of the arrogance from before gone. I decided to go easy on him and without another word I hit him sharply on the neck with my hand and he collapsed onto the ground, out cold.
I discarded his sword without a thought, I was better off with mine. Looking over at the others I saw Gray sitting on his unconscious opponent and experimentally swinging his club as if wondering if he should keep it. Rook stood leaning on his staff with a bored expression on his face, his challenger was evidently not very challenging. Brand was waving at the audience, I could hear his muscles flexing from here. Worried about how Gret was doing I looked for him and saw that he was sparring with a lanky young man. What I saw was short, Gret quickly hit the other guy on some of his pressure points and while the guy was cringing in pain Gret went behind him and pinched him somewhere on his shoulder. The guy fell on his face with a pained sigh. Gret saw that I was watching and smiled saluting, showing me he was okay.
I gazed at the audience, I couldn’t hear their screams anymore, was it because of me or my ruptured eardrum? I shook my head and started toward the rest of my group, dang, I thought, I really should stop asking so many questions.
