The Swords of August

A sprawling metropolis of sandstone buildings captured my eye. The city before us wasn't like the huge pillars on Earth or Mars. There were no thousand-floor skyscrapers with each floor an apartment. It was like an echo of a simpler time in Earth's history, hundreds of buildings running in every direction with no laser-guided precision buildings, no codes to adhere to, just what man made with their hands and wits.

The heat was a constant stress on my body. Our armour was fully-sealed and rated for extreme temperatures, but I'd kept my environmental systems running at minimum levels. Enough to prevent heatstroke, but that was about it. We didn't have a good way to charge our suits on the go, yet. Solar chargers were all we had with us, what little we had in the way of power storage and generation was slated for use already back at base.

So, I sat there in my own sweat, baking to conserve my suit's power for when I needed it most. It was just one more oversight among many that hadn't been remembered in time or that hadn't been feasible during our planning stages. While we were acting decisively, we were still more rushed than I'd like to be.

We walked through the the streets of the city, and I eyed some of the second-story buildings, most were simple utilitarian structures, but a few looked nice, and I'd even tentatively call a few luxurious. It was mostly sandstone and other earth-based building materials that I saw. Wood wasn't all that common here, which made a certain amount of sense.

People milled around different shops and flowed into and through markets. All in all, it looked similar to Wolfport, half a world away, only with more sand and more cruelty. Where soldiers at each checkpoints seemed affable and approachable in the Kingdom, here they felt foreign, strange with just a whiff of brutality hanging around them. They carried iron truncheons at their hips and we'd already passed one or two men being beaten for shoplifting in the time we'd been here.

"This is the norm, here?" I asked over my shoulder.

"Which part?"

"The guards beating people?"

"Well, how better to discourage crime?" Terath asked, mostly rhetorically, which gave me pause.

I didn't bother to dignify his response, or to draw attention by getting into a debate. I just looked into the distance. A huge arena jutted out of the city centre, probably one of the taller buildings here, if not the tallest. I'd had my eye on it for a while as we walked. You could see some part of it from anywhere in the city, it seemed like. Certainly we'd spotted it as we'd passed through the outskirts of the city.

"This tournament, what's it like?" Chen said. He sounded a little too eager for my liking.

"Biggest thing in the Aurgravyen, unless you're here for the trade. Draws crowds from all over the world." Terath boasted.

"Have you ever been in it?" Carver asked.

"Me? Hah! No, I'm not even half the warrior needed to be crowned Champion."

"So, let me get this straight, you have six rounds of fighting, and the winner is crowned Champion and allowed to work for the Emperor and receives a bag of jewels?"

"That is… a very simple way of putting it." He told me.

Carver collided with a man who was chatting animatedly to some woman besides him. The two continued on without a care, as if it had never happened.

"Well, what's the 'unsimple' way of putting it, then?"

"Six rounds. First is teams of two to submission. Then single combat, to the death. Finally, you must face a beast of some kind in a group of twelve."

"Beast?"

"It changes every few months. I don't know what it'll be now, but we're almost due for a change. We did have a large cat some months ago but I expect this next tournament to be different."

"Okay, so that's three rounds, halfway. What about the last three rounds?" I asked.

"I'm sure someone else has more reliable information than I do, I don't keep up with the games as much as I used to. The last three trials are a mage duel, then unarmed combat, and finally you must best one of the Emperor's guards in single combat, either magic, or blades only."

"Doesn't sound so hard." Chen smirked."

"Don't sound so smug." I said reproachingly. "What if you're not a mage?"

"Then you best pray to the Gods." Terath chuckled.

Rovald cursed softly, brushing sand from the crevices of his leather. "Indeed. These trials claim many lives and only the fiercest dare to enter, only the best make it to the end. They are renowned throughout the world as a spectacle to be witnessed."

"You hear that, Edward? Am I fierce enough?" Chen looked at me and mimed a tiger growling. I rolled my eyes, queuing up another threat scan. The program still screamed at me, but only marginally once I told it to filter by body language and distance. Everyone I saw was armed in some way, or had some capacity to be a threat. Mostly, it was blades and knives, so my suit didn't treat them the same as a firearm. I'd have to patch that, it could get us killed.

"Fierce, sure." Carver snorted.

"I'm sure you're plenty fierce." I sighed. "Look, I'm just going to come out and say it. We need to enter this tournament. Preferably soon."

"Oh, shit." As a primarily technical support role, Carver was probably right to be worried. Fortunately, I had no plans to throw the tech into the thick of things.

"HELL YES!" Chen cheered like he'd just won the lottery. I promptly spun on my heel and smacked his helmet.

"Are you an idiot?" I hissed. "We're trying to be covert. Keep it casual!"

I let out a frustrated growled, turning back to lead everyone to our lodgings.

I saw Chen, his cheerful mood evaporated in an instant. I couldn't help feeling bad, but I had no idea who was watching. We needed to keep our cover story airtight and that meant not drawing attention needlessly. Sure, it probably wasn't going to be the difference between us being seen or not, but his behaviour would make us more memorable and I wanted to be the very opposite.

Chen had no experience with 'covert', he was a Marine, an infantry grunt. None of us, save myself were used to thinking in terms of appearances and perceptions and I hadn't thought that way in years; even I was rusty. The most we usually had to worry about was how to best hold or take a position in the middle of a firefight, not how the civilian population would perceive our behaviour or the way we interacted with the local police.

"Keep going for a few more streets. You should see it easily. If not, ask for directions. I've got to get back to my post." Terath slowed to a stop and held out his hand to me.

I nodded, turning to grip it.

"Thank you, for everything. I appreciate it."

"No need for thanks. You saved my life. My commander will hear of your deeds, I assure you." He nodded back, and left us.

"Sorry about that." I winced. I was the idiot, after a moment's reflection.

"No, it's okay, real—" Chen said.

"I let my anger get the better of me. It wasn't okay." I cut Chen off. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Alright, man. It's cool. I grew up with four brothers, don't sweat it. Just… mind telling me what's got you so twitchy?"

I scowled. I wasn't twitchy. Not much, at least.

"It's this." I refrained from being too expressive, except with my voice, which I kept isolated from the rest of the world inside a private channel between us three.

"What's 'this'?" Carver asked.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

"People die for stupid mistakes. Sometimes, if they're lucky, they're even their own."

"Holy shit, were you Recon or something?" Chen asked.

"No." I spat. "I wasn't. I wasn't a Recon Marine, or any kind of 'something'. Just do me a favour, okay? Don't do something stupid and get yourself killed. I've been down that road before." I said bitterly.

My face barely twitched, or moved, or changed. Somehow that seemed wrong to me, uncaring, detached. It was a weird feeling.

"I'll do my best, Corporal."

That almost stopped me in my tracks, but I managed to turn it into a mere hesitation before continuing on. "Good. Thank you, Chen." I would've said more, explained myself in more detail, but it didn't feel right anymore.

After another few streets I took a left, stumbling into a dusty and airy inn that had actual floorboards. The sign out the front had a campfire underneath a bed and I was pretty sure it was the place I'd been told about. I saw large letters emblazoned over the entrance stating the name of the place to be the Crooked Foot Inn.

Rather than being constructed of wood and stone, it was mostly sandstone and some metal plating, steel, apparently, but I liked the look. I ambled in, leading the way. My suit let me see that we were drawing attention, not just from the patrons drinking but the two guards up the back. I dropped my weight onto the bench by the innkeeper, whose back was turned, and waited for him to notice us.

"Need a few rooms, you lot?" He asked, turning around.

"Three rooms for six." I waved up Rovald. We'd have to leave all our gear in our rooms until we finished our mission, so we needed at least three. Conveniently, there were six of us, so that worked out nicely.

"How long?" The innkeeper asked, cleaning a mug disinterestedly.

"Don't know yet. Call it seven days, maybe more" I said.

"Fifty-five. You know… the tournament's happening not long after. How about I extend your stay?"

"What'll it cost me?" I asked.

"Seventy."

I looked over at Rovald and he nodded disinterestedly.

"Seventy it is."

Rovald forked over two small pouches of coin. They dropped onto the thin metal pressed over the sandstone with an audible clink. The innkeeper counted them and after a few moments handed a few coins back.

"Rooms twelve, eleven and ten, take the stairs up. The rooms lock and unlock as usual."

I stopped myself before asking how we'd actually unlock them, instead, nodding and heading back outside to grab our gear. It was probably common knowledge, and Rovald almost certainly knew. I'd probably just look like a complete dumbass if I asked how to lock and unlock my hotel room.

I saw a lot of people still watching us from when we'd entered the room. Some had turned away, their brief curiosity sated, but some hadn't. That could be good for us, or not. If it was just some local toughs fixing to steal our supplies, well, that wouldn't be good. If it was a few informants who reported to the people we wanted to notice us, that would be more ideal. In reality, I suspected it was mostly the former, but maybe a little bit of the latter too. Whatever the case, I was sure word would get around about us.

We settled in without much trouble and took a look around the place. Both the surrounding streets and the inn itself. It was a standard enough affair, lots of tables and chairs, beer that tasted like piss and a variety of rough characters. Everyone from a rough-looking lot with swords strapped to their hips to a few mages in sand-encrusted robes.

Soon enough, we had to check out the tournament and get ourselves signed up. It was by far our best bet at getting an audience with Sefira, short of assaulting the palace to search for her. Though, if we attempted that, she probably wouldn't even be there.

Before I left for the arena, I left my helmet behind. I doubted they'd let me in with that. I let the mages keep it under guard and told them I'd contact them through it if I had any news for them. Carver would stay behind to be my eyes and ears, as well as hands, should anything go wrong. He was easily the weakest fighter among us, and was more suited to a support role, so I had no doubt he felt more comfortable staying behind.

That left Chen and I to go and enter the tournament. We'd come prepared with at least a little personal concealment and I threw on a sandy tan cloak made of a thick, flexible fabric. It covered my armour with cloth loose enough to move in, but thick enough to conceal the armour underneath somewhat. Chen had a similar but not identical piece of clothing. If we had to move quickly it would either come off, or we'd rip right through it. I hoped it wouldn't come to that, though.

I walked up to the absolutely massive arena with Carver and Chen in tow. The place reminded me of the Roman Colosseum on Earth, only where that was a circular construct and a damaged one at that, this was a pentagon and it looked new, or at least well-maintained. A small portcullis was raised so I walked right in, eventually finding myself in a large open room. Torchlight flickered along the room's longer sides and eight lines of people gathered to sign up, from the sounds of things.

The waiting wasn't so bad. I listened in on the conversations around us, mostly a lot of people excited for the tournament, which I learned would be happening in ten days. We got plenty of looks too, but our conversation at least was kept free of scrutiny. What wasn't free of scrutiny was our armour, though there wasn't any getting around that. It had long since been assaulted by the sand and sun here, making it look weathered, if not necessarily worn. Still, there was no hiding the fact we weren't local. Standing out wasn't an option for us, it was an inevitability.

"You three signing up together?"

I nodded. I'd come prepared, and I held a pouch of coins in my grip, enough to pay for the arena's entry fee, or so I'd been assured by Rovald.

"Names?"

"Edward." I supplied.

"Kwan." Chen went next.

"What kind of a name is Kwan?" The man at the desk remarked. "Previous experience?"

"Fifteen years experience soldiering." I supplied. "These two have five, each."

"Ah, excellent. Last month was a disgrace, barely a real soldier among the lot of them. You all know how this works?"

I shook my head. "First time."

"Ah, new blood! You'll be able to sleep and train here until the time of tournament. We prefer it that way, honestly. The tournament is ten days from now, so it cuts down on wanderers."

"What about fighting in the arena?" I asked, as I passed him the coin I'd been carrying. He weighed it, counted it and then muttered something about purity, before looking up at me.

"Not my job, go ask one of the veterans." He held out a small chunk of iron with a glowing orange depiction of some kind of creature. It was like someone had scratched a crude drawing of a monster into a piece of iron and then heated the scratches with a welder. The token wasn't hot to the touch though, no temperature difference, but it was definitely magic.

"Don't lose these tokens. Karkrat for you, Edward." He passed two others along to Chen and Carver. "Drakora and Nemeth for you two."

"I'm sorry?" I asked.

"Those are your opponents for the first round." He said, very slowly and deliberately. "Now go bother the veterans with your questions, I'm working." He waved us off to one end of the room.

I tucked the small piece of metal into a pouch on my armour.

"Not what I expected." Chen said, as we walked over to the far corner of the room. I saw two men chatting to each other, each with red sashes. One sat atop a crate while the other demonstrated some kind of unarmed combat move, laughing uproariously at something.

"New blood?" One of the men turned to us.

"That's right."

"Tokens." He held his hand out and we handed over our bits of iron, or whatever they were.

He looked at them for a few moments, then handed them back and looked up at us. "Any of you three mages?"

"No, sorry."

The two men laughed at that, one of them waving us onward as he did so. "Come through, you'll find beds at the end on the right, with rest of the neophytes. A word of warning?" He waited until we were both paying attention. "Until you earn proper gear you're just meat for the grinder if you're not a mage. Be smart about how you fight."

I nodded slowly. Maybe leaving my helmet behind had been a mistake.

"Good luck, new bloods!" He called out, as we walked past the two men.

We navigated a short, almost claustrophobic tunnel before entering another large room. This new tunnel had the raucous sounds of banter and drunken cheering in it and it was much more lively than the public area we'd just left. Though, as I soon saw, it was populated by fewer people, most of them mean-looking in one way or another.

A man stepped out. He had a rugged build, but he was short with a shaved head and an unapproachable air about him. I suppose the glower he levelled at Chen and I had something to do with that though.

"You two new?"

"That's right." I didn't offer a hand. There was no telling if that would be considered a sign of weakness or if he'd cut it off or something.

"Beds are down the hall on the right, training's over on the left. Take whatever you want, but your gear is your responsibility. You're not likely to find anything decent unless you steal it."

"We'll be fine." I assured him.

We both still had our knives on us, and our armour, sans helmet. That alone was probably a fair bit better than anything we would be able to get our hands on here.

I went straight for the armoury, or what passed for it. In actuality, the training room and the armoury were one and the same.

It was a large open room with a variety of bladed and blunt weapons, shields and other objects and items arrayed along the walls. A series of training dummies were spread over the expansive sandy floor. Flails, blades, hammers, staves, it was like walking into a scene straight from a historical drama set in the ancient world.

Men sparred in wide wooden arenas with swords, polearms and more than a few wrestled bare-chested. I ignored them, and gestured for Chen to follow me over to one of the walls full of weapons.

We took stock of the weapons on offer, eschewing the frankly atrocious armour we could see on display. I motioned Chen over to one of the empty arenas after we'd each taken a sword from a rack. It was a good solid choice and widely available.

Marines were not trained to fight with ancient weapons, not specifically. A knife, a rifle, our bodies, yes. A sword, not so much. That was why we were sparring, though. We needed the practice. We had some experience with pugil sticks, thankfully, but that only went so far.

We didn't have the benefit of being born into a culture where martial combat and proficiency with melee weapons was the norm, but we did have our mindset and training as Marines. One mind, any weapon. Four words that rang out in my mind, crystal clear.

"Go easy, alright?" I grinned.

"Oh, piss off." He laughed, going for a wide, telegraphed swing.

I stepped back, slapping the flat of his sword with mine as it went past. Both swords were both of vaguely European design, or they most closely resembled that style, anyway. I found that interesting. Not being an expert on swords and medieval weapon design, I didn't care to hazard a guess as to why that was. I figured if I stuck around long enough and had enough of them swung at me I'd pick something up.

Chen and I spent the next hour trying to beat the crap out of each other with blunted swords, polearms and knives as well as all manner of maces and other weapons. Even without the blunt tips and dulled edges our armour could shrug off most bladed weapons and shrapnel was just rain to a Marine in sealed battle armour.

It was just training. It was something familiar, simple, I'd almost even call it relaxing. In this strange city and this strange world full of strangers, it was bit of therapy, to keep me on an even keel and decompress. It was nice.

Things stopped being nice when I was rudely awakened in the night by a kick to the head.