Tale #9: The Trials of Dusk (Chapter I)

The knight finally began to rise to his feet, his greaves rattling with his ascent, and a white cape billowing behind him. "Tis disappointing, but of little surprise to me. Child or not, you are hardly the first scholar to pass through here, with the thought that your wisdom alone is enough to deserve canonization into our most sacred of institutions." His hands were covered by shimmering gauntlets, and with them, he would start to pull his lengthy blade from the earth it stabbed. "This place is a symbol of all life, and that means all disciplines find their place here. The world is dangerous. It always has been. For every scholar behind a book, there needs to be a warrior behind a blade." The philosophy was intriguing to Niko. The grizzled knight wasn't wrong in his assertion, and if one were to step away from their pretensions, then one could come to agree that the art of war was just that: an art. Might would always hold the lion's share of weight in that performance, but a fool could never find himself to reach the same status as a legend. "If you wish to continue, then I won't stop you. The door to the next chamber is straight ahead. If you want my vote though, then I plan to make you work for it. Prove to me that your mettle is worthy of pride; demonstrate to me that those tiny hands can clutch more than the spine of a tome. Impress me, and I'll consider offering you my support." It was a crossroads. Niko could very well continue onward without tasting combat, but it would assure one less vote in his favor. He had no idea what challenges would await him in the chambers to come, or how fickle his judges would be. It couldn't simply be afforded to let a vote fall to the wayside, even if it meant working outside his comfort. "I'm no coward, knight. Failure might be a guarantee, but I won't be able to live with the result of not even trying. If you'll permit me my magic, then I'll give you the fight you ask." The sides of the man's lips curled upward, his jaw fighting back a smile. "Very well, boy. Use whatever means that you wish. Our duel will be bloodless; in this chamber, the Courtyard of Ulysses, there can be no death. You needn't feel as though you should hold back." The scholar gave an affirmative nod and steadied himself, with his feet planted firmly in the grass, he allowed mystical energies to suffuse all throughout his form. The arcane power was hot, its flow ceaseless, and with practiced ease, he let it accumulate into his hands. Drezen lifted his blade toward the sky, "Let our bout commence!" And then, as quick as lightning, he swept the sword down, and the air itself was split by his might. With only seconds to react, Niko hid himself beneath the walls of a spherical barrier, like entrapping himself in a bubble, and the earth on either side of him was rended. A cloud of dirt, shards of stone, and clumps of soil were displaced into the air in an instant. Giving a swift glance, Niko could see that the gale force had raked a claw against the ground, and the wounds were as wide as they were deep. There was no time to admire such power. The display hadn't been an attack, just a small taste, and now the knight was speeding toward him on the offensive. The boy leapt backwards, channeling mana to his feet to give himself lift, and the sword crashed to the spot he had been only a second before. The already assaulted earth was cratered by the force, far deeper than the cuts of the wind had produced, and Niko was left wondering if he'd made a mistake by accepting this challenge. Keeping his shield up, with enough defense to take any of these strikes, would use a lot of his mana; if he stayed protected, then he'd never have a chance to attack. As he landed across from Drezen, he let the bubble burst, and he shot his palm outward like a piston. Sparks crackled fiercely around his scrawny arm, and with gritted teeth, he let loose an immense arc of blinding lightning. Instead of hitting its target, the bolt was stopped short by a quick lift of the blade; the jet was repelled just enough by the runes engraved on the metal, so that the lighting split into two separated shards. The knight appeared amused, perhaps smug, but this had been the result that Niko had already anticipated. With a sway of his fingers, he still controlled the separate streams, and he had them circle back around to strike Drezen in the back. The only advantage Niko could claim, was that the knight had underestimated him, and hopefully that would be enough. The superheated charges would fulminate across the back of his plate armor, piercing through his cloak like arrows of pure light. For an average knight, such powerful voltage would have meant certain demise; even in this deathless yard, it would have at least spelled a sure victory. Drezen stumbled perhaps an inch from his footing, but not an iota more, and the brief grimace of pain was soon eclipsed by a bemused smile. "You caught me off-guard, little sorcerer. Your control is impressive, but more than that, your power is fierce. Only magic of high standing could defend from my first attack, and your quick reflexes in dodging my second are admirable. Most importantly, you found a way to strike me with enough power to cause pain. I haven't felt pain in quite some time." The man praised, lowering his sword back toward the ground. "I didn't hold back as much as I should have; my goal was shamefully to end this bout with one swing, because other than your modesty and bravery, I saw little of value. I apologize for my haste. While I'd enjoy a true battle with you, I won't add greed to my sins here today, so I think our duel is concluded. You have given me much to think about." The warrior stabbed the ground once more and let go of the hilt; moments after, the wounded earth would heal back to its original state, as though their brief battle had never occurred. Niko carried an expression of surprise from these turn of events, and he allowed his mystic energies to dissipate. The warmth in his core receded like the tide, but in place of it, a different warmth could be felt dampening his loins. In his fervor, the scholar hadn't noticed the pooling beneath his trousers. The least admirable consequence of his diminished state wasn't his reduced size or juvenile appearance, but the slackened continence that came alongside. His waistline had been bound by the supple padding of terry cloth for some time, typically just tied at the sides, for the cost of quality was more than his purse could match. "T-thank you, Sir Drezen. I'm grateful for your words of confidence. Before I continue on with my trials, might there be a washroom I could excuse myself to?" The man looked confused, and then laughed with a more casual demeanor. "Lad, you're standing in a field of grass. If you need to relieve yourself, then don't let your bashful thoughts stop you. Pick a tree; the roots won't mind a watering." Niko's cheeks became as warm as the front of the nappy beneath his trousers, and making matters all the worse, he felt his gut churn with impetuous ire. The use of his spells came with higher cost than mere expenditure of vigor; his frail body, perhaps immortal, was not a sturdy enough conduit to channel these forces without consequence. Powerful spells ripped him asunder, and in absence of actual splitting harm, he instead was made to expel the damage another way. "Knight, I fear it isn't as simple as that. My need is of a more private type, I-I couldn't possibly--" The boy's eyes widened at the same time as his bowed stance. The muffled call of a horn emitted from behind him, and a sound more befitting of a horse's stall in the stables would follow, as a cavalcade of smelly droppings marched past his clenched buttocks and loudly piled up beneath. The swift and plentiful plopping was hardly muted through the plush padding of the sodden nappy, and if the bardic bombardment somehow fell upon deaf ears, then his mortified eyes would explain his predicament instead. The knight stared, looking more than just a little surprised at the turn of events. "...Perhaps our duel was ill-advised, if your bowels were in such dire straits, young magician. I can call upon a chambermaid, if need be; I suspect a chamber pot would do you little good at this point, am I wrong?" Niko stood there silently, only nodding and burning a hole in the ground with his downward eyes. The manure in his nappy simmered hotly against him, his trousers bulging with the newfound contents. He was left wondering how this might affect his favor with Drezen, and moreover, how might this malady haunt him in the remainder of his trials? Ten judges still awaited, and that meant ten more challenges to overcome. Would the Archives of Dusk open their secrets to him? Filthy nappies and all? Or would his journey here have been in vain?