Web of Knowledge - Chapter 6: Battle Arts

Kalden stepped out of the poolhouse into the light of the evening sun. His route took him along the edge of the pool where his friends reclined on inflatable rafts. Relia wore a red bikini that matched her hair, while Akari’s a was dark chocolate brown. Did they coordinate that on purpose, or was it a coincidence?

Kalden tried not to stare as he strolled past them toward his usual training spot. But of course, Relia didn’t make that easy.

“You should come in!” She dipped her hand in the pool and splashed a handful of water toward him. “We have another raft in the barn.”

Beside her, Akari kept her expression blank behind her sunglasses. She must have been confident about her admissions exams if she had time to relax like this. How close was she to Apprentice?

“Thanks for the offer,” Kalden said. “But I should get back to training.”

Relia just shrugged as if she’d expected that. Kalden shouldered his backpack, stepping off the concrete and across the lawn. He walked about two dozen steps, passing a row of hedges and trees until he reached a less maintained area.

Elend didn’t seem to care if they ruined the landscaping, but he’d overheard the yard crews grumbling about Akari’s stray Missiles. He also remembered his mother’s advice:

“Keep your staff happy, and they’re less likely to betray you.”

The Golds back home had always worried about rival families sending spies to steal their secrets. But that was nothing compared to this new world of Grandmasters and Mystics.

Kalden set his backpack at the base of a tree, unzipped the front pocket, and pulled out his earbuds and portable media player. Four weeks had passed since they’d arrived in Koreldon City, and he’d already gotten used to his prosthetic hand for simple tasks like this.

Of course, Mana Arts were another matter entirely. He still wouldn’t have his upgrades in time for the admissions exam, but that was fine. Elend and Irina both agreed that he’d get into the Artegium without it.

Now, he just had to focus on the competition from within. The upper part of the class got to compete in the interschool battlegrounds. He and his friends would need that opportunity if they wanted to reach Master by twenty-one.

Kalden had barely finished his warmup stretches before Elend emerged from the trees.

“Need a sparring partner, lad?”

“Sure.” Kalden removed his earbuds and paused his audiobook. Even if Elend had come here with an ulterior motive—which he surely had—Kalden would be a fool to turn down a Grandmaster’s personal instruction.

Elend glanced down at the media player. “What’s your training soundtrack?”

“Battle Arts by Killend Everrest.”

“Ah. The spiritual successor to The Laws of Warfare.”

“You’ve read it?” Kalden asked.

“Once. Everrest had a nice style, but his viewpoints seemed a bit hypocritical. He was quick to point out humanity’s past mistakes, then he’d praise modern Mana Artists for making the same ones.”

Kalden hadn’t noticed anything like that. Then again, he wasn’t up to speed on modern politics, so it had probably flown over his head.

“Let’s play a game,” Elend said as he surveyed the environment. Aside from the trees, the only noteworthy object was a body-length mirror on a metal stand. These mirrors let Glim appear in her human-like form, and the Darklights had dozens of them scattered around the yard.

Elend scratched his chin as if considering the rules. “Let’s say … first one to score a hit wins.”

“What’s your handicap?” Kalden asked. He’d seen the Grandmaster freeze several hundred Apprentices in the battle of Tureko, so this seemed like a safe assumption.

Elend gave a knowing smile. “I won’t use a single Mana Arts technique. That includes my enhanced strength and speed.”

Kalden nodded, then his gaze settled on the forest floor. Stones of various sizes lay among the weeds in the packed soil—any of those could be a suitable weapon.

Elend’s smile widened. “I also won’t throw anything at you.”

In that case, the next obvious strategy would be to close the distance quickly.

“In fact,” Elend began, “we’ll say any bodily contact counts as a win for you.”

Well, that made things more interesting. Still, despite the handicaps, Kalden had no illusions about this fight’s outcome. Elend would win through some clever tactic—some loophole in the rules.

But how?

“Prepare yourself,” Elend said as he put some distance between them.

Kalden began forming blades of pure mana, sending each one into an orbit around his body.

Elend waited a full minute for him to finish, then he nodded once, signaling the start of the game.

Kalden released a burst of mana from his soul. One blade broke out of its orbit and soared across the forest clearing.

Elend stepped to the right, and it flew harmlessly past his cheek. Kalden retrieved the blade, keeping the rest of his body loose. He still knew nothing about his opponent’s strategy. Better to keep his options open.

Elend strode forward with his hands in his pockets.

Kalden released two blades to either side, and they looped around in a pincer attack. One aimed for his opponent’s throat, the other for his legs. Each attack flew faster than a diving falcon. No ordinary human could have seen them, much less reacted.

But Elend Darklight was a Grandmaster, and he dodged backward, letting the blades pass in front of his body. Even without his techniques, he would have seen the shifts in Kalden’s orbit, and …

No. Even that would have been too slow. Elend had predicted the attack before Kalden had even made the decision. That was the only explanation.

“You’ve got the wrong tactics, lad.”

“What?” Kalden struggled to speak over the effort of holding seven blades in orbit.

“Think about it.” He tapped the side of his skull. “For one, what’s the purpose of blade mana?”

Blade mana could shatter enemy Missiles or Constructs. This made it ideal for both offense and defense. Kalden didn’t have true blade mana right now—he’d lost his aspect along with his memories. But he had the knowledge from his past life, and this was enoughto form weaker blades out of pure mana.

But Elend didn’t have any techniques to break. He also didn’t have any armor to penetrate.

Damnit. One hit was all Kalden needed, but he’d boxed himself into a specific set of moves. Not only did that waste mana and energy, but it made him more predictable.

Kalden relaxed his control, and six of the blades faded to mist around him. He left one in orbit to ward against any surprise attacks.

Elend inclined his head with a smile. “Human brains hate to think. This is why we fall into patterns so easily.”

And there it was: the ulterior motive. Apparently, this session was a microcosm for Kalden’s life.

He shot several unshaped pure Missiles in rapid succession, attacking Elend from every angle. “So that’s it? You’re showing me how useless I am at Blade Arts?”

“Wrong again, lad. Even with both your hands, it’d still be the wrong tactic. Besides—” Elend dodged another Missile. “—this isn’t working either, is it?”

That was true. Even with these faster attacks, Elend could still see the subtle shifts in his stance, and the mana as it flowed through his channels. This approach made more tactical sense, but only on paper. The outcome was the same.

Kalden cycled harder, then released a storm of tiny Missiles from his good hand.

Elend dodged left, taking cover behind the massive mirror. Kalden tried to arc his mana around it, but a few would strike it head-on.

Elend pulled the mirror off its stand and adjusted the ankle, reflecting one of Kalden’s Missiles back.

Kalden tried to dodge, but he was too slow. The Missile struck him in the shoulder like a sledgehammer.

The Grandmaster popped his head out from behind the mirror. “I believe that’s victory.”

“How?” Kalden rotated his shoulder to check for injuries. Everything seemed fine, so at least he wouldn’t need Relia’s healing.

“The mirror has an impedium coating. Not much, but enough to reflect mana.”

Kalden frowned. “Do all the mirrors out here have that?” That didn’t make any sense. Why would the mirrors repel mana if they were meant for Glim?

“Nope. Just this one.”

In other words, he’d planned ahead, placing a special mirror here for this exact purpose.

“Let’s go again,” Elend said. And don’t worry—I promise not to use the same trick twice.”

Kalden pulled a mana potion from his backpack and took a good long swallow. He wasn’t empty yet, but he’d rather be at his full strength for round two.

With that done, they returned to their starting positions and began again.

Elend strolled forward, and Kalden took an instinctive step back as he shot another Missile. In that moment, he remembered hearing about the jaguars in the Cadrian jungles, and how they would pace back and forth in front of lost travelers.

Most Apprentice-level Mana Artists could take a jaguar in a straight fight. The jungle cats knew that, which was why they never gave their prey the chance. Instead, they delayed the confrontation, using dream mana to break their will.

Kalden had been trying to keep his distance from Elend, but why? They’d agreed that any contact counted as a victory for Kalden. If anything, he should close that distance.

He flared his Cloak technique, formed a full-body shield, and charged his opponent.

This time, Elend sprang into motion, using the trees for cover.

Kalden shot more Missiles as he followed him, sending up clouds of dirt and broken tree bark. Despite his clever maneuvers, Elend couldn’t hold out for long. The forest only went so deep, and Kalden would overtake him if he retreated into the yard.

Something hard struck the back of Kalden’s legs. The world spun around him as he flew backward, landing flat on his back.

He opened his eyes to see Elend looming above him, holding a stick to his windpipe. The stick was barely an inch thick, but it met all the rules of the game. It wasn’t a Mana Arts technique, he hadn’t thrown it, and their bodies hadn’t come in contact.

The Grandmaster smiled a second later and offered Kalden a hand. “What’s the first law of warfare?”

“Know your enemy,” Kalden muttered as he got to his feet. “And know what he wants.”

Elend had never wanted him to keep his distance. He’d wanted the exact opposite, and he’d used reverse psychology to lure him into a charge.

“I controlled the pace of the fight,” Kalden said as he rubbed the back of his head. “But chaos favored you. I should have called your bluff and let you come to me.”

Elend gave an approving nod. “Powerful Mystics don’t win wars. Generals win wars.”

That quote came from Battle Arts. The author believed real wars had far too many variables and possibilities. An experienced general could see these possibilities like words on a page, and he could use them to manipulate a larger force into defeat. Even if that larger force had a Mystic, a skilled general could redirect that Mystic’s power.

“Your tricks would eventually run out,” Kalden noted.

“Maybe,” Elend said. “But you’re lucky to get a second try in real life. Much less a third.” A slow smile spread across his face. “And I had more than three tricks lined up.”

He gave a slow nod. “So you didn’t come here to talk about my aspect? Because this sounds suspiciously like a case for knowledge mana.”

“I came here to talk,” Elend admitted. “Not to make you change your mind.”

His eyebrows went up at that. “You disagree with Irina?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. But you can choose whatever aspect you want, lad. I’m not your father.”

Kalden frowned.

“You’ve already aspected once,” Elend said. “That gives you an advantage no one else in this world has. Unlike most people, you actually know what you’re doing.”

Damnit. This was still reverse psychology, wasn’t it?

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, lad.” Elend reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “Here.”

Kalden accepted the sheet and unfolded it. It looked like a receipt for various high-quality artifacts. The first three related to space and time mana—clearly for Akari. The next three were Shokenese blades. Each artifact cost several million espers, which was worth more than his house back on Arkala.

“I know you haven’t made your decision,” Elend said. “But we also can’t wait forever. Pure mana works great for admissions exams, but you’ll fall behind in your classes without an aspect.”

Kalden let out a breath. He’d already known that, of course. It was the reason he’d stuck with the Blade Artist’s path, despite Irina’s advice. And while he could always put the Artegium on hold, that would put him even farther behind.

His parents had forced blade mana on him in his past life, the same way his mother had forced alchemy on him in the Archipelago. His parents weren’t here now. But here he was, forcing this upon himself.

“What would you do?” Kalden asked. “If you were in my place?”

“I can’t give you the answer,” Elend said. “You live in an age with more choices than all your ancestors before you. You want to follow in their footsteps? That’s fine. But that’s your choice. Own it.”

He gestured to a massive oak tree on his left. “There’s a force within you—inside all humans. It’s the same thing that makes that tree grow from an acorn.”

“Like a destiny?” Kalden asked.

“I don’t believe in destiny,” Elend said. “Destiny implies one perfect outcome—as if one mistake can mess you up for life. The only mistake is passivity—To ignore this force and let someone else choose for you.”

~~~

“Hey,” Glim said as Akari climbed out of the pool. “I need to show you something.”

Akari was about to ask what, but Glim was already zipping off in her Missile form. For Talek’s sake. If this was another one of her pranks …

She pulled on her shorts over her swim suit and followed the mana spirit across the back yard.

Glim stopped when she reached the glass-enclosed manaball court, passing through a small gap beneath the door. Akari pushed the door open, stepped inside, and flipped on the light switch.

All around her, the walls were dark and opaque with dream mana. Glim remained floating in her Missile form.

“Okay,” she said. “One condition before we start. You can’t tell anyone about this. Especially Elend.”

Akari raised an eyebrow. Glim really could keep secrets from him?

The Glimmissile floated closer. “Promise?”

“Sure,” Akari replied. Half of her still expected a prank, so she didn’t bother matching her serious tone.

Glim bobbed up and down, which seemed like this form’s version of a nod. “Elend had me run some projections—he was curious how well you’d do in your admissions exams.”

That got her attention.

“You’re good for your rank,” Glim said. “Like, freakishly good. But that’s not enough. Raw power aside, the others have more experience with tests like this.”

“What?” Akari’s blood boiled at the words. She’d done everything Elend had told her. She’d balanced her time, she’d slept all night, and she’d even taken days off. Honestly, she felt better now than she’d felt in years. But it wasn’t enough, and now her worst fears were coming true.

“It’s no one’s fault,” Glim hurried to explain. “You had too much to cover, and not enough time.”

“Yeah.” Akari crossed her arms and glared at the world in general. “So Elend didn’t want me to know?”

“This isn’t the secret part.” She zipped across the court, taking the form of a floating disc, roughly a dozen feet away. The disc had several colored circles inside it, with a yellow bullseye at its center.

Akari furrowed her brow. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re playing a game,” she said. “It will help your test scores.”

“How?”

“Duh. You hit the target as fast as you can.”

Akari rolled her eyes. “How’s it help my test scores?”

“That’s the part we can’t tell Elend,” Glim said. “And I can’t tell you either.”

Akari shrugged and began cycling her mana. She shot a pure Missile from her right palm and hit the disc in its yellow center.

Ding! The sound echoed through the court as the disc faded to mist. The words “Round Two” appeared in the air, and two more discs replaced the first one. And while the first disc had been static, these bobbed up and down like ducks on a windy lake.

So … it got harder every time?

Akari fell into a proper combat stance this time. She extended both hands, hitting the discs in unison.

This went on for several minutes. By the tenth round, the discs were no bigger than her fists. They also started moving amid a sea of obstacles, forcing her to curve her mana around them.

By Round Fifteen, the discs were teleporting to random positions, giving her less than a second to strike. After that, they grew protective shells, and it took all her strength to break them.

The game started fighting back at Round Twenty. Enemy Constructs shot Akari’s Missiles out of the air. One of them even shot directly at her, and she just barely dodged in time.

Akari struggled to keep up, but the later rounds had left her mana drained.

The game finally ended at Round Twenty One when an enemy Missile struck her in the stomach.

“Good start,” said Glim’s voice from somewhere across the court. “That was 109 points.”

109 points? That would have been an average score for the Missile portion of the admissions exam. Akari would know—she’d spent the past few weeks obsessing over these numbers.

Could there be a connection?

Elend had given her plenty of practice exercises, but there were no official practice tests. There couldn’t be—the tests were different every year, and no one was allowed to talk about them.

“Alright,” Glim said. “You better refill your mana because we’re onto the Construct portion!”

Akari’s thoughts flashed back to the beginning of the session, and all the secrecy surrounding it. Elend was on the admissions board, which meant he probably had access to the tests. That meant Glim had access too.

She remembered another conversation they’d had a few days before.

“How do you feel about cheating?” Glim had asked her. “Hypothetically, I mean. Any moral objections?”

“Guess it depends,” Akari said. “Did I hypothetically, promise someone I wouldn’t cheat?”

“Nope.’

“And is it a game, or real life?”

Glim cocked her head to the side. “Why’s that matter?”

“You play games against your friends. We’re playing Real Life against an evil Mystic.”

Glim laughed at that. “Let’s say it’s real life.”

Akari nodded. “Guess I’m a cheater then.”

She’d almost forgotten that talk. Glim asked a lot of hypothetical questions, after all.

But … Talek. What if these weren’t just practice games? What if these were the actual admissions exams?