NOVEL NEXT Chapter 34: Sins of the Master
The day of the fight came sooner than I hoped. Trafford spent the week spending every coin he had on advertising the fight. From what I heard, people from all over came to watch. There were kings and queens, dignitaries from the empire, and other nobles. As well as Piopus, our former master.
Since I was confined to Valna's mansion, I couldn't go see him nor could he see me. I didn't even know if he was really in Adelbern. But that didn't stop my nerves from going crazy. My former master watching his last two students battle to the death, how horrifying. Did he feel that way? Was he excited like the rest of the people in the arena?
Before I could finish breakfast, Thrig arrived to take me to the arena. After saying goodbye to everyone, and gathering my things, I left with him. They would all be led to the stands by Richard, so at least they were able to watch. Trafford had been kind enough to allow that.
People gawked at us as we walked along the street. I paid them no heed. All I could think about was my plan for beating Trafford. This was different from fighting Gunner. We were both taught everything we knew by the same man. He knew all of my tricks, and I did most of his. That was why I asked the others for some item of theirs. Trafford may know me, but he doesn't really know them.
"Are you going to kill him?" asked Thrig, as casually as asking where to go eat.
"I told you as much didn't I?"
He frowned. "You lied out of desperation. Don't lie to me now."
His unspoken threat was clear to me. I gulped. "Haven't decided."
"You don't have much time."
"I know."
Thrig sniffed the air. "I smell the druid on you. Trafford won't like that."
"I'm aware," I replied, touching Greenspring's pendant, hidden under my shirt. "I'm sure you think I shouldn't have it."
He rolled his shoulders. "Choking your enemy to death with your own hands has the same resolution as pushing them off a cliff. In the end, you get your revenge. However you chose to do it, doesn't matter to me or Hrafnkell. If it satisfies you, even humiliating him would be enough."
"You feel pretty strongly about this revenge stuff, huh?"
"It is my only purpose."
We passed a young mother holding her daughter's hand as they walked opposite us. The young girl opened her mouth to speak, but her mother quickly shushed her and pulled her away. I watched them out of the corner of my eye. "Do you think I should kill him?"
"Whatever satisfies you," said Thrig.
I thought about Gunner, and my journey to save my family. At several points along that journey, all I wanted to do was kill him. Then it all changed when I was forced to kill, forced to take a life with my own hands. It's been a few years since then, but I still have nightmares about killing Mayor Korpi.
When I heard that Zadona needed my help, that she was in trouble, it was easy to spring to action. She's one of my oldest friends, only superseded by Beth. Again, I had to kill to save her. The death of Advocate Despoina is on my hands, no matter what the others say. Can I kill again? The thought makes me sick to my stomach. I don't want to be a killer, I'm not even sure I really want revenge.
In the end, all I want is my family and friends to be safe.
"You say revenge is your purpose, Thrig, but I don't think that's true," I said, watching the mother and daughter turn the corner and disappear.
"Life is not one moment. How you feel now can change in an instant. You are one of—if not the—strongest fighters I've ever met. Many claim to be unstoppable, but you actually are. Due to the nature of your powers, you may even live forever. Don't spend the rest of eternity living how you are. You should spend it striving for what you can be."
Thrig eyed me carefully. "A wise collection of words wasted on new flesh and dusty bones."
I shrugged. "It is man's nature to be philosophical when they're facing death."
"Then I suppose I have forgotten such a feeling."
We arrived at the combatant's entrance to the arena. My sword, given to me by Nia and Tamara, was attached to my hip. Zadona's quiver was on the other hip, while Beth's bow was strapped to my back. Greenspring's pendant hung from my neck. I could feel it's warmth against my bare skin. Magic from Valna surrounded me, bathing me in a golden glow. Whether I was ready or not, I had my family by my side.
"Goodbye, Noman Benson," said Thrig, leading me into the waiting room. "Good luck." Before I could say anything back to him, he was gone.
After double-checking that I had everything I needed, all I could do was wait to be called into the arena. There was a nagging feeling in the back of my head that it was all a trap, but I pushed that feeling away. Trafford wanted this fight as much as I did, I was sure of that. Otherwise he wouldn't have gone to such great lengths to advertise it.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in," I said, holding the hilt of my sword.
The door creaked open and then swiftly closed as Gunner slipped into the room. He gave me a toothy grin. "You look ready."
"Why are you here?" I asked, glaring at him. "I told you to leave me and my family alone."
"That is true, and I intend to keep my word," said Gunner. "But even I have a conscience. What kind of king would I be if I let my subjects walk into their own doom?"
"You aren't king," I said, glaring at him.
He nodded. "Not anymore, thanks to you."
"So why are you here?"
Gunner reached inside his mouth and grabbed one of his canines. He hissed as he pulled it out before he yowled in pain. Blood dripped from the tooth, staining his gray fur. I watched with wide eyes as he fought through the pain and held out his tooth toward me. He kneeled before me, his yellow eyes staring into mine. It wasn't just a gift, nor a peace-offering, it was a symbol of his pride.
"I am done fighting, but you aren't. My only hope for the harska lies with King Bagheera, and with you. As long as you and your friends live, I know that the harska will never again be taken over by a fool like me. Watch over them for me, Norman."
"Where will you go?" I asked, taking the tooth from his hands.
"Away from it all. Maybe I'll return home and settle down. Start a family. That seems to have worked for you," he said with an uneven smile. Turning to leave, he looked back at me one last time. "Goodbye."
"Farewell, King Gunner."
Slipping his tooth into my pocket, I watched him leave. Even if I hated him for kidnapping Henry and Arienne, it was bittersweet to see him go. Were he not locked up in the royal dungeons with me, I may never have had the chance to fight Trafford. Now I had to win. Everyone was counting on me.
The teleportation circle to the arena flashed on.
"Break a leg, Norman," I muttered to myself.
The crowd roared as I appeared in the arena. Above me, the announcers introduced me and talked about my fight against Thrig. But I didn't pay them any mind. No, my attention was focused on something else. Someone else.
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There he stood, the man behind all of my most recent suffering. Trafford, a fellow student of the greatest bard I had ever known. He grinned, holding his mandolin loosely in his hands. Bard against bard, student against student. I grabbed the hilt of my sword. This was it, this was the end of my long journey to save my friend.
Greenspring's totem felt warm against my chest. I thought about my first meeting with the eccentric druid. His words flashed through my head. You sell yourself short, Norman. You have already vastly outperformed him. They had angered me then, now they fueled a different kind of anger. Determination to end this conflict surged through me.
"Let the fight begin!"
Hot, burning fire shot from the end of Trafford's mandolin. Were I not paying attention, I would have never seen him move. His fingers moved across the strings so precisely it was hard to tell if he was playing at all. The fire scraped past me as I dodged out of its way. The heat scorched my cheek, leaving a shallow burn. Were it not for Valna's blessing, I would have melted.
Another wave of fire shot toward me. This time, I was prepared. I pulled out my sword and slashed straight through the fire. Whistling a quick tune, electricity ran up the blade. Electric bursts of lightning struck the fire in the air, creating an explosion of heat. His smile faltered for a moment before he quickly recovered. That moment was enough to show his fear.
Now it was my turn. Sheathing my sword and pulling out my bow in one movement, I pulled out an arrow and aimed. A blue ribbon near the arrowhead gave me a hint to what type of elemental magic it was. Ice formed at the tip. Grinning, I let the arrow fly. A shard of ice surrounded the arrow and exploded into smaller shards as it flew.
Trafford let his mandolin fall. It swung from the strap around his body. He unsheathed a rapier. Fire flared at the tip as he cut through the arrow. The ice melted and splattered onto the ground. Some of the crowd gasped, while others cheered Trafford's name. It made my blood boil.
"You could be a hero to these people!" I yelled. "A bard worthy of being a student of Piopus. This life… Is this what you live for?"
Trafford scoffed. "What is life but a collection of small moments woven into a tapestry of pain and suffering. Even for me, who will outlive the stars in the sky, life is too short to worry about others.
"In the end, only one question drives me forward: why bother? Why bother making others happy when they are gone before I can finish a single breath? No more, I said. No more would I cater to the whims of others. You will learn as I did, Norman, that the only person that matters is ourselves. Not Piopus, not our family, us."
"You're wrong," I replied. "They matter above all else."
"Your dream of becoming the greatest bard who ever lived, did they help you with that? All that time spent fighting Gunner and me, could have been spent traveling the world. You could have thousands of fans, no, millions! Instead, you have become nothing more than a passing thought. A trend. Something forgotten within the week."
I gritted my teeth. "Where has your fun gotten you? You have no friends, no meaningful relationships. Maybe it's fun for a moment, but that moment will pass. In the end, you will die alone. You'll never experience the joy of a silent afternoon spending time with a friend. No one will cry at your deathbed. Do I want to be famous? Sure, but not at the expense of my family."
Trafford's rapier reflected the arena lights into my eyes, blinding me for a moment. I had just enough time to drop my bow and draw my sword as Trafford appeared in front of me, swinging his rapier. It took an immense amount of strength to deflect his thrust. Trafford faltered before regaining momentum to strike again. My arms ached as I parried each blow.
"You know nothing of joy, Norman Benson. I am the master of joy."
I didn't reply. If I let him stab me a single time, I knew I would die.
Focusing on deflecting his attacks with one hand, I grabbed Greenspring's totem. A wolf's howl pierced the air. It felt like the totem was burning, but I still held on. The spirit of the totem fought against me. I was not its master. How dare I call upon its strength!
Norman Benson, you are not him.
Trafford raised his foot over my bow, Beth's bow.
But he has asked, so I must fight.
A magic circle glowing with purple light formed on the ground behind Trafford. In the blink of an eye, Greenspring's wolf jumped out of the circle, grabbed Trafford's foot, and flung him across the arena. I quickly picked up Beth's bow and nocked another arrow. This time it had a yellow ribbon. Before Trafford could catch his footing, I fired the arrow. Sparks of electricity flew behind it, giving it speed as it carried on to its target.
Trafford didn't move to dodge. Raising his arms to the sky, he created a wall of fire. It absorbed the arrow and its electricity, making the wall bigger and bigger. The heat from the fire singed the hair on my face, but I didn't look away. I knew looking away was death. From the edge of the wall came a ball of fire. If I had turned away, I wouldn't have been able to dodge in time.
"This is pointless, Norman," yelled Trafford, dispelling his fire with a flick of his wrist. "If Piopus couldn't best me, what makes you think you can?"
He was right. Piopus was a master bard, the kind that comes once in a decade. Maybe if I had left home with him as a child, I could have stood a chance. I looked up toward the stands. Beth, Zadona and Valna cheered me on. Worry and fear were evident in their faces. Nia and Greenspring gripped the edge of the arena with white knuckles.
"I am not alone. My friends are legends, and I will tell their stories!"
Piopus peered down at me from the announcer's booth. He moved to the edge of his seat. A wide grin lit up his face. Years spent traveling the world had aged him terribly, but in that moment he was as giddy as a young boy. Cupping his hands over his mouth, he called out to the arena below.
"Norman! Trafford! Live on my boys!"
I sent three more arrows at Trafford. Fire, ice, and lightning swirled together into a whirlwind of magic. He dropped his rapier and started to play his mandolin. A ball of fire surrounded him, blocking my attack. But that was fine with me. Now that he couldn't see me, I drew my sword once more and charged.
Valna's blessing surrounded my sword in a heavenly glow. I thought back to the many training sessions I had endured with Nia. The times she had hit me so hard it hurt to walk. Countless cuts, scrapes, and bruises. Her smile when I unsheathed my longsword for the first time. Had I not helped her save Tamara under the Sapphire Mountains, I would have never got this far. My victory would be due to them.
As Trafford ended his spell, he came face-to-face with the edge of my sword. There was nothing he could do to block the sword other than protect himself with his mandolin. I cut through the wood like butter, shattering it much like my own. Now we were truly equals. Trafford recoiled back, casting the remains of his instrument to the side.
"Once a cheater always a cheater," he said in-between gasps of air. His face was covered in sweat and dirt. "Couldn't fight me on your own?"
Greenspring's wolf crept behind Trafford. Its teeth were bared and ready to strike. Even though I wasn't its true master, it would still follow my every command. Including the order to kill. Trafford's only other weapon, his rapier, was too far away for him to grab. If he tried to run at me, Greenspring's wolf would pounce. As soon as he tried to cast another spell, the wolf would attack.
There was no way for Trafford to win.
"Give up," I said. "Answer for your crimes."
He laughed. "I've done nothing wrong. If you think I'm going to stand by and let you ruin everything I've worked for, then you're a bigger fool than I thought."
Moving his hands over his chest like he was still playing his mandolin, he began to play a familiar tune. I slashed with my sword. Greenspring's wolf ran toward Trafford. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Sweat dripped off my nose and chin. Sparks flew from Trafford's hands. Before the wolf or I could reach him, lightning struck Trafford.
"Thunder God's Mimic!"
A hundred illusionary clones of Trafford filled the arena. Each of them wielding a rapier made of lightning. Fire surrounded them, turning the arena floor to glass. Those in the crowd leaning over the arena railing were burned by the heat. Only Nia and Greenspring continued to hold on.
I couldn't help but laugh. While I had been focused on mimicking my friends, Trafford had been focused on me. He had been watching my arena fights, Nia's arena fight. The difference between the two of us? I was trained by my friends. Not just in their strengths, but also their weaknesses, my own weaknesses.
Thunder God's Mimic was a spell of my own creation. Thanks to my friends, I was able to combine my illusion magic with my lightning magic. Of course, that came at a cost. None of the mimics were very strong. One mimic could do some damage before bursting, but only a little. All it took was a strong hit to pop them.
A hundred? A scratch could do it. Especially when they were all lined up next to each other.
"Want to know the difference between us, Trafford? You're a one-man-band. I'm a symphony."
I sheathed my sword and reached inside my pocket. Thrig had said that humiliating Trafford would be good enough for his god. What was more humiliating than losing to a tooth? Throwing Gunner's tooth at one of the mimics, I dropped to the floor. All the Trafford clones ran at me, but they would be too late. Greenspring's wolf covered my body as I curled into a ball.
"I win."
The tooth stuck one of Trafford's clones square in the chest. There was a brief moment of silence as the crowd held their breath. A second later, the mimic burst. Then the two next to it. I heard sounds of wonder from the crowd, before they erupted into screams. All of the mimics burst, filling the arena with deadly lightning. Though I was protected by Greenspring's wolf, I still would have died if it weren't for the healing magic of the totem.
When the dust cleared, all that was left was Trafford's unconscious body and me. I stood up and brushed dust off the remains of my clothing. All of Zadona's arrows had been destroyed by the explosion, along with Beth's bow. The sheath Nia had given me was damaged, but the sword was fine. Same for Greenspring's totem. Gunner's tooth was long gone.
I walked over to Trafford. Somehow, he was still alive, but barely. Sighing, I pressed my hands against his chest and poured some healing magic into him. He needed to answer for his crimes. With bated breath, the crowd watched me step away from the body and look up at the announcer booth.
With a bow, I claimed my victory. The cheers from the crowd shook the arena. Farmers outside the city walls reported an earthquake that threatened to split the earth. Piopus and I locked eyes. My expression told him everything: We need to talk.