Fourteen

The week went by slowly for Rufus. He, Biggie, Jimmy and Reggie—ever since the last session—were found together whenever possible. Rufus had tried to speak with Imogen, but she had brushed him off with an excuse each time. Actually, the whole group of her friends shunned him. He really didn’t know what he was doing around girls anyway, let alone figuring out how to apologize to one of them without looking and feeling the fool.

Everything that had happened in the Arena was vivid in Rufus’s mind. He could remember each and every thought and experience he had had. The problem was that his mind wasn’t able to make the same logical leaps that he had been able to make while projected as a blacksmith.

He knew that Imogen was mad at him and he knew why, but his mind could only think of what had happened and not how to rectify the situation. He felt certain that he would have known what to do if he were still in the Arena in his projected form. He was still able to feel the closeness that had been built between them for that short time they had spent together, and he felt drawn to her.

However, since coming back to the school, his mind had seemed clouded and he had felt as if he had the flu. He was achy, feverish, and extra grumpy.

Feeling as he did he decided against another attempt at reconciling in person and, instead, opted to write Imogen a letter:

            Dear Imogen,

            He scratched that out—too formal.

            Imogen—Look, you’re being a brat!

            He crumpled that one up and threw it in the trashcan—too harsh.

            Imogen,

            I wanted to tell you that I was as surprised as you were when Bobby made his announcement. I am not going to help him, at least if his intention is to rule over the other groups. I don’t see why he would need the dragons anyway. Well, I hope you are doing well and stuff.

            Sincerely,

            Rufus

He put the letter in an envelope and put into his dresser drawer.

Unlike Rufus, Reggie (known as Raj in the arena) had instantly obtained a girlfriend after the last session. After his heroic display in the Arena against the twins, the elfin woman—known as Jill Corpice in the real world—had latched onto him. Reggie, the ever-lovesick high schooler, was delighted with the attention. However, with Jill came her ever-present brother, Jamison. Jamison was older than Jill by a couple of years, but he was quiet and reserved. He never said two words together and followed Jill around like he was lost. His hair was white and his hands moved as if the strength had been sapped from them.

Rufus and the others found him to be a bit unsettling to be around, but he seemed harmless enough, so Rufus didn’t protest.

“Reggie. Merlin won’t recognize that anything is wrong with him.” She paused to take her brother’s hand. “He has been like this for several weeks.”

“Well, maybe he isn’t concerned?” Reggie caught himself before he completely made a fool out of himself.

“Isn’t this concerning, Reggie? Look at him. He used to be so hyper-active that he would be running in his sleep.”

“Well of course I am concerned…I’m just trying to figure out why the Principal would act that way.”

On Wednesday of that week the Principal pulled Rufus aside and told him that he and Imogen would be having a quiz on an excerpt of a book called Master Child this coming Friday.

Rufus glumly studied the excerpt that afternoon, trying to prepare for the test. He put down his book with a groan.

Biggie was on his bed and looked up at Rufus. “You wanna go for a walk? I’m hungry anyway. I could use a snack.”

Rufus looked disgusted, “You’re always eating. You should stop. It’s going to get us in trouble again.”

Biggie mumbled something like “Sorry, man.”

Rufus caught himself, feeling guilty. “Sorry, Biggie. Ever since I got back from the Session last weekend I’ve been feeling off. Like angrier… Didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Biggie nodded, and Rufus picked up his book and resumed his reading. A few moments later a knock at their door caught him off-guard and he accidentally snapped the pencil he was holding between his finger and thumb. He got up from his reading and opened the door.

Reggie, Jill, and Jamison were standing there, Reggie holding a soccer ball. “Come on Rufus! We’re gonna kick the ball around a bit.” Reggie said.

Rufus looked down at the two halves of the pencil in his hand and then over at Biggie and then back to his book. An hour break would do me some good, he thought. “Come on, biggie. Your math can wait. Let’s take that walk.” Biggie didn’t complain too much, but he promised he would only play for an hour and then would have to go find some food.

The five of them spread out on the grass and started passing the ball around. Rufus was having fun, until he saw the fairies walk by. He got distracted by watching them and trying to pick out Imogen at the same time. Jill kicked the ball to Rufus and it nailed him in the gut, knocking the wind out of him. He doubled over and everyone giggled at him.

“Sorry, Rufus!” Jill called.

Rufus climbed to his feet, seething and embarrassed. His ability to think clearly had left him. An anger and an inner strength beyond his own boiled inside him. He saw the soccer ball and kicked it as hard as he could. He felt his normal limit of strength being surpassed as he swung his leg forward, and he kicked the ball a lot harder than he ever could before. A sharp pain shot up his leg, but he had already committed and his foot connected with the soccer ball. The pain was excruciatingly vivid and caused him to crumple to the lawn for a second time.

After a few eternity-like seconds, the pain receded and Rufus stood up. Biggie and Reggie were crowding him and trying to get him to stand up, but Jill watched Rufus with a curious face.

“Rufus were you holding anything when you came through last Saturday? A weapon or a shield perhaps?”

Rufus caught his breath and cocked an eyebrow at Jill. “Yeah, I had Slittlebaker’s axe on a necklace around my neck, now that I think about it. What of it?” Still embarrassed and feeling defensive, he mumbled. “I was rushed out of the Arena and forgot to put into the bank.”

She just stood there and slowly raised her arm up to point away from them in the direction that Rufus had kicked the ball. There, about 200 yards away from the group, so small that they could barely see it, was the soccer ball.

“You’ve merged Slittlebaker’s axe with your soul.”

Rufus was still thinking about his soccer ball incident as he was getting ready Friday morning. He paused when putting his shirt on. “I still don’t get how it works. If I have another person’s SoulStrom on me at the time I leave the Arena, the attributes used to make the SoulStrom merge with my body?” He sounded incredulous. “I thought it was a videogame. How can anything in a computer actually be merged with my own soul?”

“They say it can happen. I haven’t tried it before, but it looks like that’s what happened to you. Merlin knows about it and doesn’t like it, but he hasn’t ever enforced any rules about it. That’s why the Hydra games are considered so barbaric.” Biggie explained.

“So, theoretically, I have Slittlebaker’s strength? Like I am as strong as two Men?”

“Well, you aren’t technically a man. And neither is Slittlebaker, so I guess yes and no…”

“Yeah, but what can I do?”

“Kick a soccer ball really far?”

“But what else? I broke my pencil when they knocked on the door last night.”

“You’ve been really mean lately. So, there’s that, too.”

Rufus thought about it. He liked the idea of being twice as strong as he was a week ago…but being mean, he wasn’t so sure about.

“But don’t talk about it with Jill. She’s super protective about her brother. Supposedly one of the Briston’s took a SoulStrom from her brother and that’s why he looks and speaks the way he does. His white hair and all, used to be brown, you know.” Biggie looked back at his book.

Rufus thought about his experience under the sea. Each winner of a round was required to take a prize from the looser; something that was either a part of their body or a SoulStrom. And many of the participants, himself included, hadn’t been given any choice about participating.

Rufus shook himself out of his reverie. He’d have to rush to get to breakfast now.

They attended their classes and eventually got to Odyssey and took their seats. Rufus was nervous for how he was going to perform during his testing that day. Biggie had told him to concentrate on the character and the scene during the beginning of the projection process; that that was the most important aspect of the test. If Rufus could get that part correct the rest of it would fall into place.

The Principal started the class with an announcement. “This year we are going to have a slight twist with our Arena sessions. I would like you all to meet Nathan Barber.” He gestured towards another man who stood nearby. Rufus recognized the taller, dark haired man from the cafeteria. “He works for the Action Television Network and he has convinced ATN to try a pilot show that will be featuring our very own competitors.”

An excited buzz around the Vault immediately started up. The students were definitely interested which made the Principal smile.

“I’m going to turn the time over to Mr. Barber to give a little bit more of the details.”

Nathan Barber stepped forward. “Hello Students. What more is there to tell? We will be airing the best bouts each week. Your principal assures me that we won’t be able to air the bouts live due to the technical aspects of the Arena. So, they will be taped with HighDef cameras on drones, and then we will take the recordings and show them to the world.”

Clapping and cheering came from the students.

“Wait, wait! I haven’t even told you the best part.! Barber shouted over the students’ excited chatter. “A significant portion of the advertising proceeds will come back to the school. And…Merlin?”

“And,” the Principal took up the sentence; “the school will be placing the bulk of this return into a college tuition fund for all participants. And…and a portion will be set aside for all of the other students, allowing everyone in the school a share from this effort.”

Barber continued, “Like I said we only have enough air time for the best bouts for that week. We will be showcasing the bout with the two strongest contenders. Additionally, we will be interviewing each participant and following them as they go through their week. I really think you all will enjoy it.

“The first episode will be a pilot, and so we won’t know if it will take hold; but I think it will give the school some great publicity, and we’ll all have a great time doing it! So let’s get to work! I need two people that would be willing to help out behind the scenes. I will be conducting the interviews, and Ricky and Jensen…Please stand up guys.”

Two men in the back of the room stood up. One had a scraggy beard and was wearing blue jeans, a polo shirt, and tennis shoes. The other was dressed almost the same but with loafers instead of tennis shoes.

“These two are our camera men. When you’re projected, please don’t hurt them! They’ll be pretty hard to replace.” Barber continued to discuss the TV show for another ten minutes. Giving the details of when it would air and what would be expected of the interviewees and those who would be “extras” as he called them.

“So with that, we are starting the first round of bouts in a week from tomorrow. Here is the tournament schedule.” The principal taped a large chart against the wall.  “Don’t crowd right now, it will be posted throughout the school for everyone to see.” He paused for a moment inspecting the schedule. “Each person will compete against everyone else three times. Two points will be awarded for a win by DeathStroke, one for a draw-this is identified by the time limit being reached-and none for a loss. The score will be maintained and tallied by your principal and the top ten contenders will be placed into the final tournament, which will occur throughout all of December.

“Thank you very much, Mr. Barber. We look forward to next Saturday” The Principal paused and walked behind the lectern. He drew his finger down what Rufus could only guess was a piece of paper and said, “Alright, so we have two tests today. Imogen Whimsic and Rufus Fenuch. Let’s see…” Merlin tapped the podium. “You both have been assigned the book Master Child. You will be playing the scene where the Heroine—played by Miss Whimsic—convinces the Septmaster to release her millennial love, Frasce—played by Mr. Fenuch. Are you prepared for this assignment?” He paused for them to nod their head.

He had Imogen and Rufus come to the front of the classroom. As they did, the Principal gave a brief description to set the stage for the scene that they would act out.

“As most of you know, the heroine of this story is S’Alexa Finden. She was trapped for a span of several millennia and had finally come out of her comatose state to see that Glagend the Sept had been ruling in her place.” He continued a bit more. “She had met the mortal Frasce shortly after waking. She fell in love with him. And, in an attempt to control her, Glagend had kidnapped Frasce and was holding him captive.” He moved over behind the podium and sat down.

The room dimmed and turned black. The same sensation that always came with these transitions washed over everyone in the room.

A woman in a gray body suit stood on a hill made of obsidian. On her head were two threads, a gold and a silver, starting from a single opal on her forehead the strings interweaved around either side of her head and through her hair, gold to the left and silver to the right. The obsidian stretched out around her as far as could be seen, except at the foot of the hill in front of her. There she faced a roiling lake that contained a dark, almost gray, viscous liquid. At the other end of the pool was a mountain that would have risen thousands of feet into the air, but it had been made into a plateau and all of the debris from the top half of the mountain had been strewn around its base, forcing anyone who would want to get to the Black Palace to fly across to the plateau or to pass over the lake that lay before her. The woman stood tall, steeling herself for what she had come to do.

S’Alexa moved forward. As her feet came close to the lake, the water repelled from her feet. She continued to walk through the water as it parted around her until it was up to her chest. She stopped and concentrated, then she suddenly repelled the whole lake above her head. The body of water maintained its form but was suspended in the air. She gracefully continued to walk across the muddy basin as if she were walking on a paved road. In the dark water above her, she could see creatures suspended that would have readily attacked her if she had attempted to travel across the surface of the lake.

She was almost to the other side of the basin when a multi-tentacled creature dropped out from the waters above her. It started lashing out at her with its tentacles, attempting to capture her and crush her. S’Alexa drew a white bladed sword from behind her shoulder and sliced through each tentacle that came within her reach. The massive head of the beast screeched each time she sliced one of its limbs. She knew that, if she didn’t get past this creature quickly, Frasce could be dead or tortured into a mental state that no power she—or anyone else in the world—possessed could remedy.

She decided to take a different tack. She bided her time, waiting for the creature to attack. When it did, instead of slicing off the tentacle, she let it grab her. Fastest way to get to the creature’s vulnerable parts, she thought. She was pulled into the center of the mass of tentacles. A circular mouth dislocated from the head and opened up, displaying rows of conical teeth undulating in a circular motion.

S’Alexa twisted her wrists, touching the blade of her sword against the tentacle that bound her. The mere touch of her sword turned the tentacle to ash, dropping her into the giant maw of teeth. She fell with her sword extended below her. The blade struck into the soft gums of the creature’s mouth and instantly the mouth and head of the creature turned to ash. She collapsed in a heap on top of the ash pile, the mass of remaining tentacles twitching mindlessly around her.

She climbed up the side of the basin and into the Black Palace. It was empty. This was her palace, where she’d grown up and reigned before her millennial sleep. Laughter and joy had filled these halls. The memories made her eyes well up with tears. She could remember speaking with her mother or father at different locations that she passed. Her face steeled and her determination was fortified by the precious memories. She knew exactly where her adversary would be waiting for her. She put the full force of her anger into opening the doors to the throne room. The power she used burst and splintered the wood, causing the doors to land a score of feet away from their original mounts.

“Alexa.” A voice of steel on gravel echoed through the chamber. A man sat on the throne in the center of the room. He had several rows of short spikes on his head that jutted out around greasy red hair. A slight, sadistic smile was on his face.

“Septmaster, must we do this each time we meet? Do you really think that destroying my lovers will make me love you?” She shouted these questions at the usurper.

“Alexa, Alexa-”

“Do not demean me! You will address me by my title!”

“Now how could you speak to your true love in such a way? You know these puny, insignificant mortals cannot love you the way I do. I have built this kingdom for us, so that we might recreate the royal line.” The Septmaster stood to his full height and made a sweeping gesture with the hand holding the Ruling Scepter. S’Alexa noticed a dark spot in the Geoheart—the massive diamond that rested on the top of the Ruling Scepter. A cage swept across the floor at the same speed as the Septmaster’s hand. In it was a man huddled into a tight ball. His clothes and body slowly turned to flakes of obsidian and fell to the floor. The man was barely able to look up from his pose. It was Frasce.

“What have you done to the Scepter? The poison that creeps through your heart has blemished our legacy, and it destroys my heart!” She rushed towards Glagend drawing her sword, but her efforts to attack him or release Frasce were thwarted by the Ruling Scepter’s power. However, she could feel the Scepter’s desperation to be released from the Septmaster’s grip.

She knew that the Scepter’s power only worked against those of ill intent. So she slid her sword into its sheath and slowly walked forward. “Fine, you win. Let him go.”

“Good, good.” The Septmaster hissed with a sharp intake, hoping that she would decide to join with him. He looked to his side and with a slight movement forced the cage around Frasce to dissipate and become one with the obsidian floor below it. The obsidian flakes that made up Fracse started to slough off at a faster rate after that. Almost immediately, Frasce was gone, a part of the floor as if he’d never existed. A wail crept up into S’Alexa’s throat like bile, but she didn’t release it. As long as she could continue to walk steadily towards Glagend, without malice in her intent, she should be able to get close enough to the Scepter to take it from him.

She continued the walk between them. Glagend, watching her, became more and more giddy at the thoughts of power and domination. “To welcome my new Queen.” He placed his hand over the area of floor where Frasce had been, and an obsidian throne rose out of the ground. S’Alexa could see Frasce’s face shimmer on the surface of the high back of the throne. She nearly broke down and let her anger take control, but Patience, patience, and all will be as it once was, she told herself.

“Septmaster, you have erased all of the lives of my subjects to create a monstrosity of a world.”

Confused by these words, “Yes, I had to use the living souls to create my perfect kingdom. There is no pain, no hurt, just the beauty of living rock.”

She reached him finally and slowly, purposefully raised her hand towards the Scepter. The years of misuse and ignorant control by the Septmaster caused the Scepter to take a force unto itself. It could feel the correctness, the benevolence of S’Alexa. It forced Glagend’s arm up so that it was level with S’Alexa’s hand.

Slowly S’Alexa spoke, “The beauty of this black rock is nothing in comparison to the lives you destroyed to create it. You,…” She curled her hand around the Scepter’s handle above his. “I…” She slowly, purposefully, ousted the Septmaster’s hold on the Scepter. “Banish you to the Septs. Do not return.”

She could feel the control of the Scepter being transferred to her, but a last particle of force came through it as the Septmaster’s clinging fingers slid reluctantly off its grip. He pushed one last will, a thought, a command, through his slight control of the Scepter before he vanished to his own personal hell and torment in the Septs.

That last action caused forms of obsidian nightmares and fears to rise out of the throne room’s floor. The souls of men and women had been forced into misshapen creatures from the Septmaster’s dreams. These creatures rushed towards S’Alexa—borne by the Scepter’s power. One of the creatures, a snarling wolf, leapt through the air over the throne of that the Septmaster had made for her. A human hand stretched out of the throne and grabbed the wolf’s throat, forcing the creature to the ground at S’Alexa’s feet.

Imogen’s portion of S’Alexa’s mind knew that something was wrong with that part of the story. It became irritated quickly when it realized that Rufus wasn’t waiting until she freed him. Instead of being the lowly mortal creature he was supposed to be, he had brought powers that were outside of this world’s magic and rules. He was going to be in real trouble after this. She fumed in outrage inside of that part of her mind.

Frasce’s hand extended out of the throne as if it was rising from a pool of black water. Frasce’s head, with those brilliant red-yellow eyes, came through next, followed by the rest of his body. He stood before her, heaving and in shock from the transformation that his body had just gone undergone.

S’Alexa’s mind reeled in shock and confusion. She was confused by how Frasce was able to free himself from the power of the Scepter, but she was also elated to see that he was still living and in his original form. But there was also the outrage coming from Imogen’s corner of her mind, compounding the situation. S’Alexa wanted to rush into Frasce’s arms, but Imogen was letting her pride and anger seep into the storyline. Finally, S’Alexa won out and they held each other for a short moment of silence that cut through the chaos around them.

Their reunion was severed quickly by a massive creature, with multiple rows of teeth on the palms of its hands, rushing towards them. Frasce jumped inside the reach of the creature’s arms and, using his fists, shattered its legs and torso. Within seconds, the obsidian monstrosity was a crumbled heap.

After several minutes of intense fighting, S’Alexa and Frasce eliminated the threat of the obsidian creatures. Breathing heavily from exertion and relief, Frasce stood at one of the windows, looking out over the landscape of black rock. The sun reflected sharply where its rays angled against the dark obsidian. “Do you think you can restore the land, S’Alexa? Will it ever be the same as it was?”

“In time. The first task is to reverse the taint from the Septmaster and restore mankind to its rightful form. Then we will see. It will take a long time to restore what has been lost, to negate what he has done.”

“I am yours, S’Alexa. What you need of me, from my short life, I will give you.” He held her in his arms and tenderly kissed her to seal his promise.

The scene dissipated, leaving Rufus and Imogen standing arm-in-arm—an unusual looking couple, as she was several inches taller than he. Suddenly, she reeled back and slapped him—for the second time in a week—“You ruined the whole story, just so you could feel as if you were the hero! Do you think I couldn’t take care of them? Do you think that I couldn’t read the book and know how to create the magic of the world? You’re such a, a… boy. A little…selfish little boy!” She turned on her heal and marched out of the Vault and stomped up the stairs.

“Well, that was an interesting take—a bit unexpected, but interesting. I think you might have to apologize to her.” said the Principal with a rueful smile.

The rest of that day progressed slowly. It seemed that Rufus was constantly daydreaming about something: about how to better his blacksmith projection, or about the things he was able to do while projected, or about Imogen.

Rufus found himself, staring at his food during lunch, when Biggie came up and sat down next to him. “You feeling alright?”

Rufus looked up, and smiled weakly. “I haven’t been able to eat much since last session. You gonna be in the tournament?” Rufus tried to steer the conversation away from his current thoughts.

Biggie paused, but finally answered “Yeah, maybe. Merlin said I have to let them know by next Tuesday if I’m in our out. I’ll probably do it this year, money and all. Wouldn’t mind getting a boost for college. Baker says that they might not do the ATN show again next year. All depends on how good it is this year.”

Rufus harrumphed and shrugged his shoulders as he played with his food. They each finished their lunch in silence. Rufus put his fork down and walked over to one of the tournament schedules. He saw that he was first slotted to fight one of the fairies, Bronwyn Cawdor, a bye the week after that, and Brock the following week. He immediately started thinking about the Sunshard. If he was going to have a chance against one of the dragons, he would have to build his sword and imbue it with every thought he could think of.

            Smack! A slice of pizza perfectly slapped against the side of his face. “Hey, Rufus, I saw your performance earlier today.” It was Brock. Bobby was sitting next to him trying to convince his brother not to pick a fight.

“Brock, we need this guy for the plan.”

“Aw, Bobby. I’m not going to beat him up or anything. I’m just going to play with him.”

Within less than a second, Rufus covered the distance between him and Brock. The pizza was off his face and had been shoved into Brock’s mouth.

Rufus grabbed Bobby’s napkin. “You mind if I borrow this.” Not pausing for an answer he wiped the side of his face.

Bobby shrugged with a “sure, take it” gesture.

“You’re going to regret—” Brock started to stand up but, knowing his enhanced strength, Rufus put his hand on Brock’s shoulder and shoved him back down into his seat.

“Don’t get up, Brock. You’ll hurt yourself.”

Brock shrugged off Rufus’ hand and jumped up before Rufus could push him back down. Instead, Rufus pushed the chair Brock was sitting on. It tangled in Brock’s feet, and he fell to the ground. Rufus backed up to give Brock space to get up.

Brock roared and launched from his prone position into an uppercut. Rufus didn’t see this coming until it was a bit too late. He dodged to the side, only to be clipped in the ribs. He locked his arm around Brock’s and was able to hold him there. Brock tried to pull his arm out, but Rufus’s extra strength gave him a huge advantage. He punched Brock in the nose with his left hand. He was right-handed, so he didn’t usually have much power in his left hand, but blood splattered at the impact. Rufus let go of his vice-like grip on Brock’s arm and let his opponent fall on his back, his hand over his broken, gushing nose.

Rufus turned and strutted away, reveling in feelings of vindication and drunk on perceived accomplishment.