SEVEN
Rufus and Imogen were walking on their tiptoes, each with one of their ears pinched between Blackwatch’s forefingers and thumbs. She strode between them, holding their ears just high enough that if they put down their heals their ears would tug and burn painfully.
The Principal called after, “Now Blackwatch don’t do anything rash!”
“They stole from us! They entered into Tulendor without authorization or permission! This is for their safety as much as it is for ours!” She stopped and looked back. “They must learn this lesson!”
“But, but I was just curious!” Imogen sputtered. “I just followed him in there!”
“I don’t believe you, child.” Her brogue bubbling to the surface. “Your fate will be the same as his. And it shall not be any cookies and milk or tea time with dear old Meme!” She nodded her head at Rufus. She continued towing them out of the library and down the hall. Rufus could hear Sheila let out a deep throated cry of pity and pleading as the library door shut behind them; she sounded like she was pining the loss of her pups.
“The paddle isn’t so bad. It’s the sound that hurts more than the actual contact.” Blackwatch was matter-of-fact as they walked to her office. Rufus couldn’t believe they were going to be subjected to corporal punishment. He kept expecting the Principal or Meme to stop Blacwatch.
She shut the door and said “Assume the position.”
“I don’t understand. What’s the position?” Imogen begged.
“Put your hands on your knees and bend over.” She walked around her desk and took a flat, wide paddle that looked like a sawed off cricket bat. She waked back behind both of the children. Raising the paddle. “This will be over soon enough.” She said, sounding very satisfied.
Mid swing, Sheila burst through the door and jumped up onto Blackwatch’s back, pushing her to land on her face. The dog’s snarls and snaps were inches away from her face. It may have been the fact that Rufus’s head was upside down and all of his blood was rushing that direction, but he could have sworn that Sheila’s paw was momentarily a hand, with an intricate rose ring on the middle finger. Before he could look twice, the hand turned back to a paw.
The Principal came in after the dog. “Mrs. Blackwatch, that is enough! Sheila, thank you for your services.” The dog sat down between the children. “Children you may go back to your rooms. We will be punishing you, but not this way. I am very sorry for this incredible diversion from our policies and rules.”
Blackwatch sat on the floor in a heap of black clothing. Her hair with wisps that had pulled from her bun.
“How dare you? You know what it would mean if the Dabuek found out if even one child was able to see the DragonLock, let alone use it? Soulshards are not to be used lightly! You of all people know this! I am tired of covering for you! I will tell the Dabuek myself, the next time I see him!”
“Mrs. Blackwatch, you will not, and you know this!”
“Why? Because you are in control? Because you think you can keep the rest of us under your thumb? I am not like the others; I will not be dictated to! I manage the security here, and without me, your secrets and your vows will be exposed to the world! I can’t believe you are letting Barber in here with cameras. Just because you like him? That isn’t right. The list of grievances I have is long, and that is the last straw—not to mention the DragonLock! He held Excalibur, for goodness sakes! What child has ever held that Soulshard? You and Meme.” She paused and took a breath, looking at Sheila. “You’re going soft! You care too much about these children and not enough about your age old responsibility.” She stood up and stomped out of the room.
“Rufus and Imogen. I’m sorry did she paddle you at all?”
“No.” They both responded.
“Good. We will be suspending her. Please don’t worry. Meme and I will be taking over her responsibilities.” He paused. “Now Rufus, were you stealing from the pantry?”
He was about to lie again, but they knew he had had the DragonLock, and the only lie he could come up with was that Imogen was the one that had stolen the key, but he couldn’t follow all of the untruths that would create to make it a crediable one. So he just nodded.
“Ok. Then please report to the kitchen tomorrow before dinner.”
…
The next day Rufus showed up at the kitchen before dinner. The cook looked at him sternly.
“Mean to steal from me!” Her anger subsided and the wooden spoon she was threatening with lost a bit of it’s menace. “Why, I would’ve had just given it to you if you had asked.”
She was mad, but it softened like a mother seeing her only child’s safe return. “Well come in. I’m sure Blackwatch got her way this time, didn’t she?” The Italian intonations of her voice were very apparent in the last sentence.
Imogen walked in before Rufus could answer.
They spent the whole dinner time putting out the food and taking turns doing the dishes.
After the dinner rush, Imogen looked over at Rufus. He was walking (actually limping) back towards the kitchen, when she finally spoke to him.
“I can’t believe I’m here.”
“What?” He turned back to her.
“I mean, I didn’t steal anything, I was just curious.”
Rufus looked at her. “Sounds like I’ve heard that before.” He left with his arms full of empty serving pans. He kept his distance the rest of the night. He knew that she was being punished for what he, Biggie, and Jimmy had done. And she was paying the penance in place of Biggie and Jimmy.
After the dinner hour the Cook asked, “Rufus, are you hungry? You look skinnier than normal. Here have some food.” She had some fettuccine alfredo on the stove that she dumped into two bowls.
“Mia bella, Imogen! Dear, come sit down. Are you hungry? Here, eat! Eat!” The woman’s jowls shook, but her smile shown like there wasn’t a care in the world. She looked like she was proud that the two kids could do hard work.
“Yes, Madam Griselda.” Imogen smiled at the Cook, but immediately eyed Rufus. She sat down at the second bowl of pasta and took a bite. They ate in uncomfortable silence.
…
The next day was Friday. Rufus and Biggie were sitting in Mr. Kafkard’s psychology class.
Rufus leaned over. “I don’t get any of this stuff.”
There was a diagram on the chalkboard. A depiction of an iceberg. Several sections were labeled with the words “Super-ego”, “Ego”, and “Id”.
“The id, ego, and super-ego are the three distinct, interacting agents in the psychic apparatus defined in Sigmund Freud's structural model of the psyche. The Super-Ego is like our conscience, helping us regulate our desires.”
Mr. Kafkard had a long stick with a piece of chalk at the end. Pointing at the Super-Ego he then moved it to the id portion of the Iceberg. “This area represents your desires—the primitive and instinctual part of your nature.
“Your brain or personality is in a constant battle. The id and the super-ego want control of your body’s actions, but in the end your ego is what maintains your perspective of reality.
“Why is there a delicate balance here?” he asked.
A student raised their hand.
“Bartholomew, yes?”
“Isn’t it like the force from Star Wars? The good and evil are in all of us, but we have to know how to control them?”
“Yes. Ahem” He cleared his throat. “That is a fair comparison. The Light Side, and the Dark Side, or the Yin and Yang. Freud believed that a portion of our subconscious was made up of primitive, base, almost evil desires—our id. However, also in our subconscious we have beauty, love—the desire to do good—the super-ego.
“To help maintain this balance we have a third part of our minds called the ego. The ego gathers from three spaces to make our final decisions. These are the id, the super-ego and finally the external experiences, education and knowledge. Pooling information from all three of these spaces makes up your actions.”
Rufus was still trying to wrap his brain around the influx of information when the intercom buzzed.
“Attention, all Odyssey students. We have been able to open up the Arena, and Weekend Sessions will start tomorrow.” The Principal’s voice came across the speaker. A cheer came from the classroom. “Specifically, all newcomers, please report at the Vault at 7am. Rufus and Imogen, that means you.”
The rest of the day Rufus didn’t hear a word his teachers said, he was so distracted by daydreams of what the Vault would really be like.
…
Saturday morning, Rufus was up at dawn. He had spent the evening doing homework and reminiscing with Jimmy about the prank they had played on the Bristons, then fallen asleep reading his Millennial Child assignment.
He tried to eat some breakfast, but he was nervous for what was going to happen that day—his first day in the Arena. He felt like he was trying to figure out what Halloween costume he should wear to a party.
He wandered the grounds, thinking through as many of the books he’d read and all the creatures and heroes he had ever heard of. Hercules? Perseus? What about Gandalf, that’d be pretty cool! But all of these seemed cliché; he felt he needed something different to show off to the other students.
Something different…He remembered the battle he saw on the ceiling in front of the main office between the Black Knight and the Dragon. What if I could recreate that Black Knight…!
He was wandering near the garage when he thought of this, and he ran all the way back to his dorm. He slammed open the door and flipped the light on. “Biggie, Jimmy, wake up!” The two things he expected, he found. Jimmy was sitting in the dark reading with a red light, and Biggie was sound asleep.
Biggie rolled over and pulled his blanket over his head to shut out the light. Jimmy had shut his eyes the moment the lights came on.
“Guys, I need your help!” Rufus couldn’t hide his excitement.
Jimmy turned from his book and slowly pulled on Rufus’ sunglasses. He looked at Rufus, opened his mouth, and then turned back to his book without saying anything.
Seeing that Jimmy wasn’t going to help him, Rufus went to Biggie and shook him until he turned back over and uncovered his face. “Hey Rufus, didn’t hear you come in. What time is it?” Biggie yawned. The blanket and sheet were half covering his face.
“I don’t know. Sometime after six.” Rufus said as he grabbed Biggie’s shoes gesturing to him to get dressed. “Come on! I want to check something out, and I need you to come with me.”
“Six? No you go ahead without me. I’ll be right here.” He groaned and started to turn over.
“Come on, man!” Rufus tossed Biggie’s shoes at him and threw a pair of jeans at his face.
Rufus was dragging a half-awake Biggie through the halls and up the stairs to the front office. He stopped under the painting of the Black Knight and the Dragon.
“Alright, Biggie.” He paused to shrug Biggie off of his shoulder. “Tell me what you know about him.” He pointed at the Black Knight.
“What? He…” Biggie had to stop and rub his eyes. “He was really fast and was really strong. I mean, all I know about him is what is in that picture.” He moved over to a bench that lined the wall and sat down. “Look…you know what I know about him. Didn’t you get caught watching this match when the Bristons threw you in the garbage?”
Rufus didn’t answer his question. “I’m going to watch the whole match, just wake me up if anyone comes.”
Rufus stared up at the ceiling—right at the painting, and his mind’s eye traveled to the point in the match where he had left off.
The Red Dragon was crashing to the ground—its broken wing not able to support it in the air anymore. The Black Knight landed on his feet and broke into a run toward where the dragon had fallen. In the dragon’s descent and landing, the Black Knight’s sword fell from where it had been embedded in the dragon’s wing and fell behind the red beast.
The dragon was preparing to spew more fire when the Black Knight reached his sword. The Knight turned turned to face the dragon and barely dodged a blow from the dragon’s claw, slid under its chest, and stabbed his sword towards the dragon’s heart. The scene exploded with a bright white light, both the dragon and the Black Knight froze in a magic spell.
Rufus found himself standing in the middle of the arena next to the Black Knight and the dragon. The Black Knight’s eyes shifted in surprise. His head was released from the DeathStroke spell, but the rest of his body was encapsulated.
“Hello?” Rufus realized with shock that the Knight was talking to him.
“How did you get inside here?” The Black Knight asked Rufus. “You aren’t supposed to be on the Arena floor during a bout!”
“I don’t know how I got here.” Rufus replied. “I was looking at a picture and watching your battle, and then suddenly I was standing here.”
“Oh. That’s strange...” The knight responded. “But a lot of things here are strange.”
Rufus just stood there, gawking at the scene.
Thinking that his world won’t continue until Rufus was gone, the knight asked him. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Rufus came wracked his brain and asked, “Later today will be my first time projecting in the Arena… I just wanted to know how you did it. How did you create your projection to be so good?”
The knight paused and looked at the eagerness in Rufus’ eyes. “Patience and time. Look, the way to become good is to fail quickly. I mean, try something and find out if it works. If it doesn’t, try something different or tweak an idea until you get it right. That’s what I did. That’s the best advice I can give you.”
Rufus thought about what the knight said. That was pretty good advice. So try an idea and then retry—making adjustments until you get it right.
The scene started to dissipate, and Rufus found himself back inside of the hall. Biggie was snoring on the bench next to him.
“Hey Biggie, get up! Let’s go! Any other ideas on how to get better at this?”
“I don’t know, Rufus. You could ask Merlin…” Biggie left the name hanging out there as if he knew Rufus wouldn’t ask him. “Or you could go and read about the matches in the Arena Archives. I think they record all the types of abilities and who won the matches and stuff.”
“So, you don’t know anything else about this knight?” Rufus asked.
“I know for sure that I’ve been up and down this hall, and I’ve gone through each of the paintings—there are hundreds of them, by the way. That Black Knight is one of the best—if not the best—but there isn’t any way that I know of that allows you to recreate another person’s projection, especially if you are only watching a match. You just have to rely on your own imagination. At least that’s what I’ve learned anyway.” Rufus didn’t answer, lost in thought.
“Look, just go in there and let your imagination take control.” Biggie encouraged. “You might end up as a slug. And if you do, I promise not to let anyone near you with salt! Deal?”
Rufus’ excitement deflated slightly “Deal.” He mumbled back.
“What did the Black Knight say to you when you watched the bout?” Rufus asked conversationally.
“Wait, he spoke to you?” Biggie stopped and stared at Rufus. “No fair! He didn’t speak to me!”
As the two walked down the corridor, a shadow slid behind a corner. The shadow’s hand twisted a ring on its other hand and slunk out of view. If Rufus hadn’t been so involved in what the Black Knight had said, he might have noticed the shadow disappearing.