EIGHT

They walked back to their room and Rufus got ready to meet up with Merlin. Biggie said he had to get another half-hour of beauty sleep.

“You gonna try today, Jimmy?” Biggie asked as he climbed back into bed.

“Nah, I don’t think I’ll try. I’ll come though. I’ve been craving some of Meme’s creamed cakes. She still makes them, right?”

“Of course! I eat a couple hundred each time I go.” Biggie smiled and turned over. “Rufus, hit the lights, huh?”

Rufus got ready for the Weekend Session and made his way down to meet with the Principal. He was about to reach the top of the staircase when a Briston came from either side of the hall. Both of the twins were hidden to Rufus’ view.

“Hey, garbage boy!” said Bobby excitedly. “You ready for your first day?”

“Move Bobby. I gotta get to the Vault. By the way, I hear you had an issue with some garbage yourself. Were you able to get it out of your hair yet?” Rufus pushed his luck a bit.

“Now, wait up a moment, Rufus, we just want to talk to you.” Brock put his hand on Rufus’ shoulder. Rufus immediately shrugged it off. “Hey, don’t be so testy.”

“We’ve got a proposition to make to you.” Bobby quickly filled in, seeing that his audience was less cooperative than he had expected.

Rufus’ face was a storm cloud. “No way. I don’t do deals with imbeciles. Makes it too easy for me to cheat them.” He started walking around Bobby, but he was blocked by Bobby’s hand.

“Look I know we have had some rough spots before, but let’s just cool it for now. Once you get inside the Arena, you’ll see. You have to have as many friends as you can. And if we can’t be friends, let’s at least be allies. Alright?”

“And if I say no?” Rufus spat. His temper was starting to rise and he was loosing control of his brain-mouth filter.

“Then we can’t promise you will be protected…” Brock half whispered and cracked a fist palmed in an open hand.

“Who’s to say that I’d need protection? I saw what you guys did with your test. You looked like you have the imagination of a tadpole still trying to hatch.”

Rufus could see the Bristons’ faces flare from this comment. He knew he was in trouble, but he wasn’t going to hang around to receive the immediate consequence to his statement.

“You’re dead, Fenuch. I’m gonna kill you.” Brock clenched through his teeth as Rufus brushed Bobby’s hand off his chest.

“Watch your back, Fenuch.” Bobby said as Rufus passed by him. “We can’t do much here, but have you ever been suspended in the air by a dragon and dropped to the ground while going a hundred miles an hour? I’d love to test the Deathstroke out on you.”

Rufus was at the top of the staircase. “Now, I understand; you don’t lack imagination, you’re just stupid.” The Briston’s bristled at this. Rufus felt more secure at every step he took towards the Principal. “I mean, why a hundred miles an hour? Why not the speed of sound or of light? Now I think I understand. Your basic knowledge of how our world works hinders you from expanding your imagination. I’ll see you in there, fellas. Don’t be hoping for me to be on your side. Oh, and be careful as you go down the stairs, too. You might take a tumble and hurt your little selves.”

The last bit was rushed out as Rufus started taking the steps in twos to get to the Vault. He could hear shouting and footsteps as the Briston’s came down after him. He could see the bottom of the stairs, but he didn’t see the Vault. Instead, he saw a black stone wall where the last step was. He stopped just short and placed his hands out so that he didn’t smash his face.

He could still hear the Briston’s chasing him. He knew if he didn’t get inside the Vault somehow he was going to be served a knuckle sandwich from both of them, and they’d both be requiring a 25% gratuity charge for their service.

He started searching for a latch or a doorknob, but nothing was in reach. He looked back up the staircase and saw the twins staring down at him.

“You should be more careful what you say, garbage boy.” Bobby’s voice bounced off the walls and reverberated in the close space.

Rufus started looking around him, up one wall and down the other, and back to the slow descent of the Briston twins.

“There’s no escape, except through us.” Brock hefted his shoulders ready to put them to the task.

Brock leaned in and pinned Rufus against the wall. He cocked back his fist and swung. Rufus saw it coming a bit late and he tried to move his head out of the way, but he still caught a glancing blow. The rest of Brock’s punch slammed into the wall to Rufus’ left.

Rufus was smaller, but he was scrappy. He swung right back at Brock’s stomach. The older boy bent over with the wind knocked out of him. Rufus cocked back again ready to swing at Brock as a door outline emerged from the large stone wall; turning from stone to wood. At the sight of it Bobby and Brock both turned and started running back up the staircase.

“Bristons!” A booming voice came from within the doorway as it was opened. Out walked the principal.

The Bristons stopped and slowly turned around.  

“How many times do I have to remind you two that Odyssey is a privilege and that I am not required to entertain your presence in it, or even in this school. Your actions here are inexcusable.”

“Principal, he started it. Rufus called us stupid.” Brock complained.

“Yeah, he compared us to a tadpole.” Bobby added.

“Rufus, is this true?”

“Yes, it is. But, if I hadn’t been accosted in the hallway, I wouldn’t have attempted to explain the ineptness of their minds to their…well, feeble minds.”

“See, he just called us stupid again. Didn’t he?”

“Rufus, that is uncalled for. Please go inside.” The principal placed his hand on the open door ushering Rufus into the Vault. Rufus noticed the DragonLock still in the keyhole. This time, however it had long, thin gold string attaching it to the Principals belt. He turned back to the Bristons. “You are excused. I will see you back here with the rest of the class.”

He expected to be walking into the classroom when he passed through the door, but it was a short, dimly lit hallway. There was an opening about twenty feet away.

He continued until he reached the opening, stopped for a moment and caught his breath. The air was chill, and the ground outside the opening was covered in snow—thick, cold snow.

He stepped out onto a stone landing that was in front of the opening. He looked up and behind him and saw bleachers that extended high into the air. Some of the seats were way too large for a person to sit on. Some were cushioned. Some were pedestals or perches. All had the pristine look of winter’s first storm—covered in white, untouched and unblemished. His eyes followed the bleachers to his left and saw that they encircled an enormous, snow covered field. Mid-way through the left side he thought he saw a large tower rising over the stadium. He could see the familiar massive wooden gates at both ends. He knew them from the Black Knight’s picture.

Rufus saw a man standing in the middle of the field. His hair and beard made Rufus guess it was Mr. Sineter, but he couldn’t tell from his vantage. The man was repeatedly—yet slowly as if he had a great weight in his hands—lifting his arms in front of him with his palms up. And in front of the man grew a mound of dirt. Each time the man lifted his arms, the mound of dirt would get bigger—as if the man was willing the dirt to come to the surface.

“Amazing isn’t it? I always love the winter Arenas.” The Principal put his hand on Rufus’ shoulder from behind. “Let’s go down to the lower levels. I believe Meme has some breakfast ready for us. Have you eaten?”

Rufus nodded his head as he followed the Principal.

“Well, okay. You’re in for a treat anyway.”

The Principal walked past Rufus and started to walk around the arena floor. On a path that cut through the bleachers.

“This is a new arena field, as you can see by the volcano that is being created in the center.” The Principal pointed to where the old man was standing. The mound that Rufus had seen before was becoming a hill.

“I like to put a twist in each of the Arenas. This will add, I believe.”

“Who is that man?” Rufus asked. The two of them were getting closer to the open field when right before the Principal’s foot left the most recently created step an opening parted in the field. Through that opening a set of stairs appeared.

“That is a slightly older me.” The Principal said. “There are a lot of my—what I call Facets—in the Arena. I have to keep an eye on you kids and make sure no mischief is at hand.” The Principal stopped at the rightmost end of the Arena bleachers and walked up a set of steps to the top edge. He stopped and took a deep breath. “The seafolk live out there.” He pointed towards a beautiful seascape. Below them was a sheer wall of over 100 feet tall. It ended abruptly with harsh waves crashing incessantly against it. The water extended as far as Rufus could see. To his left, he could see that the high wall connected with a beach and then a boardwalk that lead around the perimeter of the makings of a small town.

It was utterly beautiful.

“Let’s go over a few rules. When competing in the actual Arena, only the combatants are allowed to compete, no outside help. And to try and keep spectators from being harmed, nothing is allowed out of the field of play until a winner has been identified, except for medical help in between rounds.” The Principal continued into the entry.

“Also, you can use any power or ability that you created when you originally project yourself…so it is very important that you choose wisely and prudently when projecting yourself. The Arena is based on a point system. If you could give a DeathStroke, then the match is over. Do you know what a DeathStroke is?”

Rufus shook his head.

“No? Well, if your action would have caused the other combatant to have died in any manner, then you win. But if that doesn’t occur during a round, then the individual with the most points wins. Points are awarded based on a combination of fencing and wrestling scores, that is, touches with your weapon or pinning and the like. However, you are not allowed—better yet, you cannot—deliver an actual death stroke.  The two combatants will be frozen temporarily, and the individual serving the DeathStroke will be encapsulated in light. It makes it easier to tell who won.”

They continued back and followed the path that lead through the bleachers until they were on the exact opposite side of the Arena from where they had entered. There was a large stone arch with many steps that lead down into an open market. As Rufus went down the wide staircase, he could see across the top of the market buildings. They were in a massive valley, with one single sheer cliff ringing around its perimeter. The tops of the cliffs sloped into snowy peeks. Rufus stopped and stared at a large castle on the other side of the town buildings. He recognized the stained glass windows. That was where the school Archives room was.

He continued without saying anything to the Principal. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he looked upward and what he saw was the field of play, as if the sky was a movie screen, with a snowy sky backdrop. He could see the older version of the Principal building his volcano and the stadium seats behind him.

“Magnificent isn’t it? I made this so that you could go about your daily chores, eat a meal, or visit a friend and not miss a bit of the matches going on. I guess the volcano might get in the way, but oh well.”

They walked among the open tents and tables. Snowflakes started to fall dusting, the ground and structures around them as they walked. The early morning sunlight shown down and played with the falling snowflakes—casting prism light in the air. The tables under the awnings and tents were full of spices, fruits, nuts and many other foods that Rufus couldn’t recognize, let alone describe. For some reason the fare in the stalls looked as if their owners had left them without cleaning up.

“Now let’s say you’re a lover, not a fighter…” The Principal paused for emphasis and looked down at Rufus with a smile. “We have the most incredible auditorium for the children that want to choose musical talents instead of the barbaric. Would you like to see it? Yes?” He paused and was about to take Rufus in a different direction when he must have thought better of it.

“Better yet, if you really want to, you probably aught to see the auditorium when there is a practice session open to the public. Anyway, Meme wouldn’t be happy if we skipped what she’s made for us. The auditorium is on the other side of the Arena and we wouldn’t make it back in time for breakfast.”

 Let’s walk among the stalls a bit more. I don’t think Meme is quite ready, and I’m sure you will want to see the rest of the Arena, before the other kids come.”

They turned down an alleyway that lead to another main street. However, the stalls here were much larger and were made of stone and brick with anvils and hammers and other tools neatly hanging from their walls.

“This is the blacksmith row. Any type of weapon you want can be obtained here. I understand that some of the kids that find this work entertaining actually add some magical properties to their weapons. It is quite fascinating, to be sure.”

“So, these kids who make the weapons and the ones who run the food stalls, do they just give their stuff away?” Asked Rufus.

“Hmm…No, you have to buy it from them.” The Principal was caught off guard.

“With what? I didn’t bring my wallet with me. And I don’t have much cash anyway.”

“No, you don’t need dollars to buy from this market. Everyone starts off with some money in an account stored over there.” The principal pointed to a domed building rising over the market to their right. “But the money is only good to buy items here in the market.”

“Alright, how much do I get?”

“Huh? Oh everyone starts off with the same amount and then, when you graduate from the school, we settle your accounts and you get to take what is left over when you leave.”

“So, this money is good inside the real world?”

“Well, no. But we have a small exchange that helps you with college and other aspects of the next part of your journey.”

“Like Barber? Did you help him?”

“Uh. Yes.” The Principal was caught off guard.

“Anyway, if I sell enough weapons and food or don’t spend it on anything, I get to take my money with me?”

“Well, yes those are a couple ways of earning money here, but the real money is in the competitions; the Arena, the Auditorium, and then the there is the Labyrinth.” The Principal pointed to the left over the market tents. Rufus followed his finger to a wooden gate that stood several stories high, which lead into the valley’s cliffs.

“Who knows what treasures you would find there, but I don’t recommend that anyone go into that part of the Arena, as I don’t manage it as thoroughly as I do here, and the creatures in there—well they are downright frightening. Frankly, anything could happen.”

“The Labyrinth…” Rufus thought.

“Rufus, I am serious. Children have been lost in there before, because they hadn’t prepared themselves properly, or because they were too proud to listen to reason.”

“Okay. I’ll make sure I prepare properly if I go into it.” Rufus made a quote movement with his fingers to emphasis the word “properly”.

They continued to walk past blacksmith stalls lined with weaponry. Rufus mused “Why would I want to use a sword when I could use my imagination to make me so powerful that a sword would just get in my way? I don’t see why I would want to blow my money on this junk.”

“Junk, huh? Let’s see…”

The two of them continued to walk past the blacksmith stalls. Rufus stopped and stared at some of the weapons—at least that is what he thought they were—hanging from the back wall. There was an axe that was twice as tall as him. Its blade started at the top of the leather grip and curved up and over the top of the shaft and ended half way down the backside of the axe. Next to the axe was a pair of swords that looked like their blades were made of light. Several other weapons that defied Rufus’ commonsense lined up next to the swords and the axe.

“Right, I don’t think the owner will mind if I show off her talents.” The Principal opened the half-gate marking the entrance to the blacksmith stall and walked through to the weapons. He picked up one of the weapons that looked like a curved sword, but when the Principal picked it off the wall, he held it so that the blade curved away from his body.

“Have you seen one of these before, Rufus?”

“I think so. It looks like a knife people from Nepal wear. But it is way too large to be one of those.”

“Well, yes it does look like a Khukuri that a Gurkha would wear, but that is not the most interesting aspect of this weapon. Here, try it out.” The Principal handed the sword to Rufus.

Rufus hefted it. It felt well balanced in his hand. He started swinging it around like he was sword fighting.

“Whoa! Hang on. Let’s not chop off our own head.”

“What?” Rufus stopped, he knew he was making a fool out of himself, but he was having fun doing it.

“This sword was meant for a different type of fighting…Long range attacks.”

Rufus’ face was a sight to see. “I don’t understand, I’ve seen swords before, and every time I’ve seen or read about them being used, it’s in close combat.”

“Well, okay. Yes, this sword would work very well in close combat, but let’s say you want to eliminate an archer that was shooting at you, and you don’t have a bow yourself. Well, this sword knows exactly what you are aiming at when you throw it, and it will fly to and hit your target. Of course, if your target moves, the sword won’t hit it. At least, I don’t believe it follows your target’s movements.”

“Okay. Cool, but if that is my only weapon, once I throw it, it’ll be wherever it lands and I’ll be without a weapon.”

“Well, you seem to know a lot about this sword. Why don’t you try it and see what happens, Mister wise-guy.” The Principal looked around for a target and pointed to a flag that rose out of one of the stalls a few hundred feet from where they stood. “Aim at that flag.”

Rufus looked at the flag and then back at the Principal. “Are you sure?”

“Go ahead. It’ll fix itself.”

Rufus concentrated on the pole holding the flag up and brought the sword back like it was a stick. He came forward and released the sword. Like a boomerang it rotated and flew through the air in a sideways arch. Rufus was amazed at how little amount of effort he had to put into his throw to make it travel so far. The sword continued to rotate through the air, eventually hitting its mark and toppling the flag to the awning below it. Concentrating on the flag he didn’t see that the sword had started to curve back towards him.

“Rufus, look.” The Principal was pointing to Rufus’ right. Rufus followed the older man’s finger and saw a rotating sword traveling at a significant speed directly toward him.

“You didn’t say anything about it coming back!” Rufus started to run up the street, thinking that it would return to the point from where he had thrown it, but he was wrong.

“Rufus, come back here. The sword isn’t…” The Principal was trying to console Rufus, but he wasn’t listening.

Rufus ran to the next stall and looked back at the sword and saw that it had changed its trajectory. Seeing this, he started running as fast as he could.

He could feel—like an itch on the back of his neck—the sword getting closer to him. The sword rotated and shifted in the air in order to time the placement of its handle perfectly with the hand that had thrown it. Rufus’ hand, unbeknownst to him, unclenched an empty fist and re-clenched around the sword’s grip, as if the sword were controlling his hand. With one arm swing back, the sword wasn’t there, and with the upswing of the next, Rufus almost clocked himself in the head with the blunt side of the blade. He took a few more steps and tried to slow down, but tripped and skidded on his side, dropping the sword. Tired and amazed, Rufus just laid there, not moving.

The Principal strolled up and picked up the sword and wiped the dust off it. He looked down at Rufus and said, “I told you not to run… Many things you will see today will defy your logical perception. I promise you that.”

Rufus pushed himself up off the ground and dusted his legs off. “You could have told me that before I threw the sword, you know.”

“Yeah, and miss that look on your face? No, I don’t think so.

“Rufus, in the Arena, a person can project themselves to be whatever they are inclined. That being said, some people enjoy being the center of attention and want the glory of the Arena, but some don’t. They want to help the glory-seekers get there. So the blacksmith that made this sword decided to project herself as a blacksmith with the ability to imbue weapons with magical properties.”

“And… What of it?” Rufus understood what the Principal was saying, but he didn’t understand why.

“Well, the what of it is that an individual’s projection is limited to their imagination, and if you project yourself with such incredible magical powers that it takes up all of your essence, then more than likely you will be extremely inept physically, or vice versa. For instance, we have several kids that think it is beneficial to project themselves as completely invincible, and their appearances, physical prowess, mental fortitude, and all other aspects that could have been augmented—do not change. So, they look just like themselves when they are in school, but because of their decision of how they would be projected, no one can hurt them. However, one of those kids could come to this blacksmith,” the Principal and Rufus had walked back to return the sword and the Principal pointed to the shop, “and have a weapon custom made that would allow them to attack—that is, to attack well, if not better than, most other children could with just the use of their imagination.”

They continued to walk the direction Rufus had been running. The open market ended and opened up into several buildings. One was the domed bank pointed out to Rufus earlier. It had a red dome with marble columns and steps that led up to a set of brightly polished brass doors. The second was a multi-tiered housing building. The tiers were like a gigantic staircase where each step was a set of balconies adjoining to apartments. The balconies had plants, chairs, hot tubs and many other creature comforts that Rufus could see. The third was a building constructed of stone in the form of a 15th century Scottish castle. The sunlight bounced around on what looked like facets cut into the stained glass windows, as if crystal shards had been mixed into the glass when it was made. The effect dazzled Rufus’ eyes as they walked closer to the building.

The Principal stopped at the edge of the market and pointed at the housing building. “That is called the Hive. You will be assigned a room in there. It will be where you can go if you want to get away from the hubbub down here. The castle is where the school staff stays when we are here. And that is the bank. It is managed by Mr. Sineter—best counter in the business.”

To the right side of the housing building and behind the bank there were tennis courts, sparring fields, basketball courts, and a large swimming pool. Beyond that was a forest lined cliff. The walls of the cliff were pock-marked with dark caves, which Rufus imagined could house any number of creatures.

To the left side there was a forest; Rufus saw that this connected to the one that lined the cliffs behind the building.

“Shall we go in?” The Principal continued to walk towards the castle. As they approached, a large drawbridge that looked to be made completely of silver fell towards them. The chains holding it up clinked softly as it lowered.

“I know, I know. The castle is a bit gaudy, but I have to splurge somewhere. Anyway, the door isn’t really silver. It is a mixture of the purest sunlight filtered through a yellow diamond forged into a gold plate with a hint of titanium, platinum, and tungstranium. I call it soltanium.”

“Tunsgtranium…soltanium? Those aren’t metals.”

“Sure they are…at least, they are in the Arena. Soltanium has the strength and durability of titanium, the allure of gold, tungstranium is an alloy of what we—in the real world—call depleted uranium and tungsten carbide. The denseness of depleted uranium and the strength and durability of tungsten makes for a very strong metal—not very light mind you, but I have to be able to get in and out of the castle somehow.”

Rufus was quiet as they passed over the drawbridge; he watched it as he walked towards the massive doorway. Being closer to the drawbridge allowed him to see that intricate patterns of silver-colored and gold-colored images intermingled, especially where he placed his feet. Ringlets that turned from gold to silver and then to a dark grey… and right before the ringlet turned back to gold, Rufus thought he saw what he could only describe as sunlight.

“When pressure is applied to the soltanium, the tunstranium and titanium come out to equal the pressure applied. That is what you are seeing. But in its stable state, it can look like a sheet of gold. Some days it even looks like a pillar of sunlight streaming through a copse of trees. It’s both functional and beautiful; although, if you ask me, I think that beauty is the most functional aspect of life.”

As they crossed the front gate’s threshold, Rufus looked up to see Meme walking down a wide staircase that hugged the wall on the other side of a large, granite courtyard. She was dressed in a white gown with sleeves that extended to her wrists on the top of the sleeve, while the other side drooped down into a point—the bottom of the sleeves almost touched the ground. Her neckline and bodice had intricate patterns made of gold with a slim, golden belt to match. The gown flowed with her as if she were floating.

“Merlin!” She called across the courtyard and gracefully crossed it as if the courtyard was moving and she standing still. “You’re running late, dear. You’ll have to eat quickly. I am sure the children are lining up right now—Oh, hello Rufus. You haven’t eaten yet, I hope?” She stopped in the middle next to a large rock and waited for them to meet her.

They walked from the castle gates and between two intricately carved stone support pillars towards Meme. A series of the pillars encircled the perimeter of the courtyard and had carvings of different creatures in various fighting stances. Some creatures Rufus identified—men, centaurs, dragons, and horses. Others he couldn’t explain even while looking at them. Merlin saw where Rufus’ gaze was focused.

“That is my collection of the creatures that the children come up with. I carve one each time a new creature is introduced to the Arena. I love to see what the kids can come up with. It’s so interesting. I have a whole library on the fifth floor that documents every child’s ability.” He tapped the side of his head and said “My poor noggin can’t hold everything, so everyday after the children have gone back to the School, I sit up there and I write down what I learned.” He paused as they approached Meme.

“Is that in the Archives room, or next to it?” Rufus saw a sword in the stone next to where Meme was standing. He recognized the handle of Excalibur. Seeing the sword brought a rush of emotions about his experience in the Archives room.

Merlin paused. “I, uh. Well it’s the Archives room.” He knew he couldn’t lie about Rufus’ experience.

“Are my parents names really Darius and Ruth?” His first question was just to get Merlin off-guard.

Merlin hesitated. He sighed and looked at Rufus and then at Meme. “You saw your genealogy tree?”

“Yes. It was strange to see that my heritage ends up to two individuals named Meme and Merlin. That isn’t you guys, is it?” He absentmindedly reached his hand out to the sword handle. A gentle purring sound came into his mind. No screeching voice, no cursing Merlin’s name.

“No, no. My last name is Johanson. And the name Merlin is just a nickname for me. There isn’t any way that you could be related to me, us. I mean the real Merlin was from many years ago, and that lineage is really long, right? So, no, no, it couldn’t be us.” Meme stood next Merlin and watched Rufus with bated breath, and her eyes were searching his face, as if she was trying to see if Rufus believed Merlin or not—almost hoping that she wouldn’t have to hold a secret anymore, willing him not to believe.

“Meme, my love, how are you?” He leaned down and gave Meme a peck on the cheek as she rose on her tiptoes to meet him. She took the Principal’s right hand and sidled up beside him as the three of them walked to the top of the staircase.

“Oh, excuse us, Rufus.” She blushed. “I’m doing quite well. I have Miss Whimsic inside. I think she is a bit antsy and might feel uncomfortable with projecting today.”

“Oh? Hmm. I didn’t expect that of her. She did quite well on her test.” The Principal looked pensive and pushed open the door that lead into a massive dinning hall.

The door opened up to a wide carpeted staircase that gently sloped down to the dinning hall floor, a good ten feet below the landing where they stood. There was one table in the center with a multi-tiered crystal chandelier hanging from a three story vaulted ceiling. Rufus felt as though he had just been turned into an ant as he looked up into the rafters of the room. There was sunlight streaming from a set of tall stained glass windows, placed at regular intervals in the walls, several feet from the ceiling.

The table was covered in all kinds of breakfast foods—omelets, cakes, pastries, fruits, and breads—too much for Rufus to consume in one sitting, but he was willing to try. In the center of the table, on top of a satin runner, were lit candelabras made of gold. There were plants that garnished the table to take up any unused space.

“What do you think, Rufus?” Asked Meme. “I was trying for a more homey—almost rustic feel, but with this large of a dinning hall, it’s a bit difficult to turn it into a cabin in the woods. You know what I mean?” She looked at him and could tell he didn’t care about the garnish or the candelabras, but he did look like he was about to salivate to death. “Why don’t you go ahead, then? I believe Miss Whimsic is up by the throne at the other end of the room. Why don’t you go find her and keep her company? I need to speak to Merlin for a moment.”

As Rufus walked off down, he overheard Meme say “The rest of you are here. Blackwatch is with them. We should get it over with as soon as we can. We can’t have her tied…” The two left the dinning hall, so Rufus wasn’t able to hear the rest of the conversation.

He continued down the stairs and went up the right side of the table. He thought he had seen Imogen on that side. After what seemed like a couple of minutes he made it to the head of the table. There she sat, prim and proper. She was in the middle of taking a sip of her morning tea with her pinkie finger extended away from the cup as he sat down right next to her.

“Isn’t this awesome?!” He surprised her and she almost dropped her teacup.

“Hello, Rufus. I presume you are doing well?”

“Yeah, do you know what this place is?”

“No, why don’t you enlighten me.”

Rufus looked at her as he reached for a plate of pastries. “Wow, you’re a regular downer! Who peed in your Cheerios?”

“Eww. That’s disgusting. No one did. I just don’t want to be here. This is all creepy. The Arena, its all about death and machismo and how badly can you beat the brains out of someone else.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s part of it, but didn’t you hear about the Auditorium or the Labyrynth?” At least that is what he tried to say. It was a bit garbled because of the mouthful of cheese pastry he was eating.

“I’m sorry, did you say something? It sounded like you were trying to carry on a conversation, but I guess that is too much for one as boorish as you.”

Rufus swallowed and repeated “I said didn’t you hear about the Market, the Auditorum or the Labyrynth? Not everything here is boorish and macho. I’m sure you can find something that you enjoy, besides being a brat. Also, this is what we saw out the window of the Archives room. The dragon and the mountains.”

She sniffed. “I am not a brat. You just don’t know refinement when you see it.” She sipped from her teacup as Rufus downed another danish while reaching to put an omelet on his plate.

“Whatever! This is the chance of a lifetime! How many orphanages or schools have this technology? None, besides this one!” He loaded his fork and shoved it into his mouth.

“How do you know what this is? How do you know it is technology? What if it is real?” She reached over and pinched Rufus on the back of his arm, right above his elbow.

“Owww! That hurt!” His mouth full of half chewed food sprayed out in front of him.

“That was graceful.” Imogen laughed and took up a fork to cut off a lady-like, bite sized piece of crumb cake from her plate. “Seems like this place is pretty real to me.”

They sat in silence, just the sound of Rufus smacking his lips every once in a while. He paused, thinking about his experience in the courtyard, and asked “What is the Principal’s last name? Or his first name for that matter?” Rufus asked her.

“Johnson, right? I don’t know his first name. Everyone calls him Merlin, though.” She thought about it.

“That’s what I thought. But he just now told me his last name was Johanson. I mean, who doesn’t know their own last name?”

…

Merlin strolled through the market back to the entrance of the Arena bleachers. He walked up through the darkened hall towards the door that led to the Vault stairs.

“I guess I really am late,” he mused to himself.

He slowly opened the door and saw that a line of unhappy, muttering teenagers lined up the staircase. As soon as the door started to open, a hush fell across the kids.

“I’m sorry I’m late. The hall is warm, but we are preparing for the winter games, so I suggest you stay in the hall instead of lining up in the bleachers. You will be much warmer.” He turned and started to walk back the way he had come.

“Single file, no pushing.”

He strolled down the hall toward the sparkling light reflecting off of the snow at the other end.

As Merlin walked out onto the bleachers he turned around and looked for the first individual who was following him. It was Biggie.

Meme, Rufus, and Imogen all stood to the left of the hallway entrance and watched the procession come to a halt.

“Rufus and Imogen, please have a seat.” Merlin held his hand out and a wand appeared in it. A moment later he flicked it and three massive wolves trotted around a bend and stopped, one at each of their sides. A second flick and the bleacher seats behind the three steamed and the snow turned instantly to water vapor. The three wolves walked over to the newly cleared bleacher seats and curled in a sleeping shape around each seat.

“Go ahead, this is better than fur coats. They put off heat instead of just trapping your own.” Rufus, Meme and Imogen walked over to their seats and sat down. The wolves wrapped themselves closer around each of them to keep them warm.

“Now lets see. Mr. Worthrite. Are you going to project anything new this week?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll just stick to my normal routine.”

Merlin looked down at the young boy. “That’s fine, but if you take to banging your cudgel against my Arena walls again, we might have to refine your projection. Understood?”

“Um, Yessir.” With that acquiescence, Merlin turned and walked towards the staircase that led to the arena floor. Merlin reached down to his left hand and exposed a small rock that had been encapsulated by a ring on his finger.

“Okay. Are you ready?”

Ready or not, Biggie could feel the wind rush towards him. He had been in this situation so many times before that he knew exactly how to mold the wind and how to project himself into the creature of his fantasy. Of course, he couldn’t project everything that he conjured in his mind about the creature, because of the rules dictated by Merlin; however, sometimes he would try to bend them just to see how close he could get to being caught. It was a small game that many of the children played.

As the wind was used up by Biggie’s imagination, he grew and grew until he was twelve feet tall. His shoulders were as wide as a man standing on his tiptoes. His biceps were as large as watermelons. And he was handsome. His hair was black with a few streaks of white coursing through it. It fell to his shoulders, was lustrous, and looked as if he had just walked out of a beauty saloon.

Meme leaned over and whispered to the two neophytes. “This is when you get your lesson in how to project yourselves. Most of these children pick the same projection each time, however some of them will switch it up.” She paused stroking her wolf’s mane as Biggie, who was now, in fact, big walked down the set of stairs on the other side of the Arena. Merlin beckoned for the next child to enter onto the field.

“There are many rules we have here in the Arena, however the most important is when you project, you must be careful not to project anything that is based on evil.” Meme continued to explain.

Rufus thought about this as he saw the next kid turn his body into a large cat with bat wings. His human head looked out of place on the animal’s torso, but Rufus guessed that he would have done something similar, he didn’t like the idea of giving his ability to choose over to some base creature. His experience as a dragon had taught him how easy it could be to lose control to the mind of the projection.

“What about Jimmy? He was a vampire? Aren’t they evil?”

She paused, caught off-guard by his question, “Yes, most of the stories told about vampires portray them as evil; however, there are some stories that portray vampires as heroes. Merlin has an ability to tell what type of character or being a person is drawing from to create their projection. If he thinks that the projection created is evil, he requires the projection to be recreated. If you refuse to recreate a projection then he will cast a spell around you that doesn’t allow you to interact with the Wind at all; however it also protects you from the other projections. You essentially are invincible.”

“A Wimp.” Rufus mumbled.

“Yes. That is exactly what the children call it.”

One by one, the kids lined up and marched down onto the field next to Merlin. Only one child was allowed on the Arena floor at at time. Most projected themselves, but some did not, and they walked past Merlin pausing so that he could wave his wand at them—placing a protective spell around them. A light sparked from his wand to rest on the child. No change to the child’s physical appearance would occur. Once they had the spell put on them, they would continue down the second set of steps into the Market below.

“They have opted out. They just come here to be observers. Merlin puts the same spell on them that makes it so that they can’t project themselves. These are the ones that decide to be Wimps, as you said.”

As the three of them continued to watch the kids file through and turn—or not turn—into incredible creatures, Rufus had a thought. “Meme, what if I want to be…a dragon, for example, one week, and the next I want to change and be a giant like biggie? Can I do that? Or am I stuck with the first projection I ever make?”

“Rufus, that is a great question. The answer is anytime you enter the arena you can be whatever you want. The only restriction is that Merlin has to approve it. That being said, most individuals who do project themselves try to perfect their projection over time. They tend to, shall we say, gravitate towards a creature that fits their character. And in some cases, like your friends Jimmy and Biggie, they start to take on similar traits in real life to their chosen projection. Jimmy especially.”

“Merlin called this a practice session. What does that mean?” Rufus was driving to a solution for his projection, but he didn’t want anyone else to know yet.

“Well, it’s the beginning of the school year, and a lot of the children have been away from the Arena. It isn’t that easy to forget how to project, but Merlin hosts several of these practice sessions before the competitions start. Just to help the students get acclimated.”

A couple minutes later Jimmy walked through the tunnel entrance and saw Rufus sitting there. They waved as he passed by.

“Good luck, Jimmy!” Rufus’s excitement for his turn was revealed when he spoke.

A group of girls crowded the entrance and waved to Imogen as they each took their turn to enter the field. Each one of them turned into a small creature with wings.

Meme nodded towards the girls. “Those are the Fairies. They like to hide in the forest and play tricks on people. I would be very careful with them; they have some very powerful magic spells. They all project themselves the same so that it is easier to share ideas on how to better the fairy projection. Kind of a group think if you will.

“Oh, this is my favorite.”

A girl about sixteen walked passed them and down onto the field. She was plain, with glasses thicker than the bottom of a coke bottle. Her clothing was slightly disheveled, as was her appearance.

“That’s Winnie. Her imagination is incredible! She performs the most amazing songs. She’s figured out how to make her vocal cords split into five different sets, so when she sings it sounds like a quintet singing. At the end of last year she was actually able to change them so that it sounded like a female alto voice accompanied by a quartet of instruments. Ahh…it was so beautiful...” Meme stopped and was dreamily staring at Winnie as she walked up to Merlin.

Winnie slowly changed. Her body grew taller and slimmed to a beautiful woman. Her clothing augmented with her growth and shimmered into a dress made of several layers of white gossamer. The unkempt version of her brown hair fell from its elastic, grew several inches and changed colors to a white-blonde mixture. Her hair also changed its luster and thickness. Two slight points protruded from her ears and parted her hair on either side of her head.

The new version of Winnie gracefully walked down the second set of steps.

“You may not have noticed her before, but believe you me, she is something to study in the Arena. You might do well to try and talk to her about how she is able to keep such concentration as she is projecting. She is quite meticulous. I have had the opportunity to discuss it with her, and she has some really good techniques.”

Rufus was quiet, he was trying to concentrate on what he would choose to project himself as. He knew that if he started out as some type of warrior then others would know immediately his intentions—to fight in the Arena, but if he just said he didn’t want to project this time he could go explore anything without fear of being hurt. However, if he projected himself as a blacksmith…

That was it, he decided. He would be a blacksmith for now, and work on a better projection for when the actual competitions start. Who knew—maybe he could make a really cool weapon for himself.

The next person stood next to Merlin and said something that made him start to walk to the rightmost side of the Arena floor with her in tow. He waved his wand and a section of the Arena floor started to flood with ocean water. She walked over to it and stood waist-deep in the water. The wind took her imagination, soul, spirit and body and she turned into a mermaid. Her skin turned a light shade of blue with scales from her collar bone down to the tip of her tail and skin from the tops of the scales up including her arms. She waved at her group of friends, and then she dove underwater, a majestic tail waving as she swam into the open beyond. Her friends each followed her with their own variation of a mermaid.

“How come there aren’t any guys going into the ocean?” Rufus looked at the pool of sea water.

“The mermaids are very exclusive. A male wouldn’t be uninvited, but if you aren’t a mermaid then you are free to be conscripted into their underwater chess matches. I think they call it Hydrachess. Yes, that’s it. It can be very intense. Some of the students go down to watch, others go to actually compete. But if you aren’t in a seat before the Queen’s guards catch you, then you will find yourself a part of the entertainment. So just be careful.”

 …

A half hour after they’d sat down, the line finally petered to a couple of the stragglers. Meme stood up and walked Imogen and Rufus to the back of the line.

“Have you two decided on what you will project? If not, now is the time to do so. And don’t worry if you can’t decide, it’s still a great experience to be able to just observe.”

Rufus let Imogen go first. She looked frightened and said “No, you go first. I want to know what you look like so I can cover my tracks.”

Rufus shrugged and walked down the steps onto the field. He crunched through the snow, placing his feet where the other children had already stepped.

Merlin was a bit haggard. His pant leg was smoldering from the previous student’s projection. Merlin saw Rufus’s gaze and said “Those dragons are always a piece of work. You’ve got to be on your toes. Even the nice ones want to eat you for breakfast, along with several cows, to be sure.” He paused and looked at Rufus, “Are you ready?”

Rufus nodded, then felt a rushing wind enter into his chest—the same wind he’d felt when he’d turned into Smaug. He concentrated on a specific blacksmith from one of his fantasy novels, but before the wind was used up he added a couple thoughts of magic and imbuing weapons, hoping that was how it was done.

While he was concentrating he didn’t notice his body transforming. His muscles bulged to match those of a man who had known nothing but hard physical labor his whole life. He was several feet taller, bare-chested, bronze-skinned, and knowledge that he’d never possessed before floated through his mind.

“Rufus, are you satisfied with your projection? Since this is your first time, I can give you another chance.” Merlin questioned the man who now stood in front of him.

Rufus’s normal self would have fumbled for words, but this version of him rolled his incredibly larger shoulders and frankly said, in a deep resonating voice, “Yes, I’m satisfied.”