Fate’s Pawn

“Plans are wonderful things but they rarely work out as planned.”

-Common Elvish Saying

Raziel groaned as he sat up. Every twitch of his muscles sent aching lances through his body. Cold sweat covered him and the moisture only added a new dimension to the searing pain dragging its claws across his oversensitive skin. He couldn’t even focus his eyes. It was all he could do not to scream. But he kept it in, kept still, and focused on his breathing until, finally, the agony began to recede.

Meanwhile, Daichi reached up and touched the edge of his mouth. He looked at his own blood like it was something he’d never seen before. There wasn’t a roar of cheers from the crowd. Instead there was a chorus of whispers and murmurs, the sound like a flock the rustling of tree leaves in a gusting wind.

Raziel struggled to rise twice but the effort was too much. The pain made his limbs weak. A hand appeared in front of him.

At first he thought it was Ichiro’s but as he followed it up, he saw that it belonged to Daichi. The elf’s plain face was red where Raziel had hit him and already looked a bit swollen but he didn’t seem angry. The elf had schooled his face into indifference, though the last traces of surprise and confusion lingered.

Raziel took his hand and allowed Daichi to pull him to his feet. It was excruciating but Raziel didn’t want to be forced to crawl off the stage. He managed to stay upright while the world tried to spin out from under his feet. Ichiro was walking towards the masters and Raziel couldn’t help but let a grin slide into a familiar place on his lips.

He’d done it. All that was left was for Mori to make it official. The relief outweighed his body’s pain a thousand fold.

“No. I will not train this… boy.”

Mori’s words, delivered in a tone of absolute disgust rang through the arena. Raziel’s head jerked towards the master, the motion a mistake. The world spun and Raziel was forced to take a few steps forward or stumble to his knees.

Mori’s eyes were hard as agate, but he wasn’t looking at Raziel. He was staring at his student, Daichi. Daichi did not return his master’s glare, instead looking down at the floor, his face as unreadable as ever.

“But, I thought that was the deal?” Raziel said as the world continued to tilt away from him. He turned to Ichiro like a drowning man looking for a plank to cling to.

“The outcome of the match does not determine your placement, Raziel,” Ichiro said, his voice pitched low. It wasn’t gentle but neither was it unkind. Mori seemed unwilling to even acknowledge Raziel’s existence. Baromah at least met his eyes but he shook his head as well. The rejection was not as forceful as Mori’s and stung all the worse for it. That left only Hiro.

The third master looked uncomfortable in his seat. For the first time that day he was sitting as a master ought to, with his feet planted on the ground. He found Raziel’s eyes and gave him a quick motion with his palm as if to say, ‘hold on’ and turned to the other masters.

“Mori, everyone knows what you’ve said about Daichi. Don’t get me wrong, your kid is impressive but Raziel did hit him. You owe him.”

Mori turned towards Hiro with a look that could have melted stone while Baromah’s eye lights slowly dimmed, conveying something like a human wincing.

Mori’s answer fell like a tombstone.

“I owe him nothing. The fight was over before he touched Daichi.”

“What are you talking about?” Hiro asked. Mori pointed to Ichiro without taking his eyes from Hiro.

“Student Ichiro, what did you tell the boy after he was first knocked down?”

For the first time that day, Ichiro hesitated to obey one of the masters. He bowed swiftly to cover the hesitation and spoke with the same respectful tone as ever.

“I told him that the fight would end if he took another blow like the one that knocked him down, Master Mori.”

Mori spread his hands as if the answer were as plain to see as the sky above.

“And who struck first just now, Daichi or this… prospective student?” Mori said, his voice filling with distaste on the last words. Raziel saw the glance that Mori shot at Daichi, knew the words and their barbed tone were meant for Daichi rather than for Raziel but that only made their sting worse.

“Mori, the kid has talent. Anyone could see that after that fight,” Hiro said, before Ichiro could answer, as though it could make any difference. Everyone knew the truth.

“The boy is broken. He should not even have been allowed to participate.”

That hit Raziel harder than Daichi had. He wanted to say something but couldn’t find the breath for it. Was that why Basil had said what he’d said? Had he known this outcome was inevitable?

“The kid isn’t broken. He’s injured. And he still came up here and fought as hard as anyone could ask. He deserves training.”

“Deserves training? Perhaps. Perhaps he should have had it before he ruined himself. But if so, he will not get it from me. I will not have my arm twisted into taking a student I do not want.”

“Mori-“ Hiro started but Baromah spoke and his low rumble stopped Hiro in his tracks.

“Master Mori, how many students do you have?”

Mori did not answer immediately. Raziel was sure he wasn’t trying to remember the number. He was looking for a trap in the words. But after a moment he smiled, seeming to realize where this was going.

“Two hundred and thirty six,” the master in red said finally. Baromah nodded as if this were the answer he’d expected. He turned around to look at Hiro.

“Master Hiro, how many students do you have?”

Hiro froze, caught in the trap Baromah had laid. Mori’s thin lips formed the first smile Raziel had seen from the elf.

“One,”

Baromah nodded again, exactly as he had at Mori’s answer.

“Then, given your belief that this young man deserves training and the relative size of your school, it would be best if you were to take on the burden of his instruction.”

“I… do not know that I would be the best available teacher for the kid.”

“It seems that you are the only available teacher,” Baromah said. Hiro started to speak but again Baromah spoke over him, not by overpowering him with volume but with a calm, gentle voice that would not be denied. “I do not deny what you see in this young man. It is clear he has the will to do battle and the heart to pay the price. Mori is unwilling to train him. I fear I do not have room in my school for someone with his needs either. That leaves only one option for his training to begin this day.“

The look on Hiro’s face was one of a man caught at the edge of a cliff. He knew he didn’t have a real escape but Raziel could tell that he might still refuse out of pure stubbornness. Already he could see that response starting to form on his lips.

“I can’t-“

“Um. Master Baromah?” Raziel asked. His stomach was churning and he could feel his heart pounding though his whole body but he knew he couldn’t let Hiro finish that sentence. “Could I say something?”

Ichiro’s eyes swiveled to him like he’d just let out a loud fart at a king’s diner table. Mori looked at him like the fart had been on his dinner.

But Baromah’s eye lights glittered.

“Of course you may. It is your future in question.”

Raziel nodded and bowed, though he wasn’t sure he did it right and he was sure that he should have done it before he asked. Better late than never he supposed.

“Master Hiro, if you think about it, you’ve already started training me. You were the one who told me that I should try this strategy.”

Raziel could see the master’s balance wavering, his resistance was giving way. But it wasn’t enough.

“Kid, I-“

Raziel’s head swam for a moment and his legs gave out from under him. He fell to one knee and caught himself there. His swoon silenced Hiro for a moment and Raziel seized it.

“Master Hiro, please take me as your student. I don’t have anyone else. Please.”

There was a war on Hiro’s face, plain for anyone there to see. The elf opened his mouth to deny Raziel but the words just wouldn’t seem to come. And finally, he relented.

“Fire and Glory, kid. Fine. Just get up.”

For a moment Raziel wasn’t sure what he’d heard. The words and their meanings were so caught up in what he wanted and needed them to be that he had to mentally check and recheck himself to be certain he’d heard what he thought he had. When he looked up Hiro had his forefinger and thumb pressed into his eyes.

“I don’t know who’s going to regret this more, me or you,” Raziel heard Hiro mutter but he didn’t care. A monstrous wave of relief crashed over him and washing away Basil and his promise, drowning those echoing words in his head.

A moment before Raziel couldn’t even stand. Now he found himself rising to his feet and throwing his hands in the air. His shout of triumph was caught up in a wave of noise from the crowd. Raziel heard almost as much booing mixed in with the cheering but found he couldn’t care less about either. His own soaring heart was enough.

“Psst,” Ichiro said in the tone of someone who’s said it several times already, been ignored and was quickly reaching the point where even the pretense of subtlety would be pointless. Raziel glanced over to see Ichiro mouthing the words ‘bow and say thank you’ in such an exaggerated manner that even Raziel was able to read his lips.

He jumped in place and immediately did his best to bow without falling over. It wasn’t perfect. Not even close. When he stood straight his head swam.

“Thank you very much, Masters!” Raziel said, probably too loudly. The look of exasperation on Mori’s face had the depth of feeling only parents and teachers were likely to truly comprehend. Hiro only dug his fingers deeper into his eyes. Baromah on the other hand, looked quite pleased.

“You are very welcome, young man,” Baromah said when Hiro didn’t reply. “I’m sure we will have a uniform for you momentarily.”

“I didn’t bring any,” Hiro said, not moving an inch.

“You didn’t bring a single uniform?” Mori said, as though this was the most ridiculous thing he’d seen or heard all day.

“I didn’t exactly see this coming when I woke up this morning.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Mori grumbled.

“Masters,” Baromah cut in before it could go much further. He spoke a little louder, presumably for the crowd’s benefit. “Master Hiro unfortunately does not have any clothing befitting a student of the Daishinrin available at this time. Please inform Ichiro where you are currently staying. Once he has completed his duties for today, Hiro will come find you.”

“I’m staying on an airship right now. It’s at the sky dock.”

“Which sky dock?” Baromah asked after waiting a polite moment for Raziel to fill in the necessary information. Raziel opened his mouth to answer and realized that he did not remember.

“Hey Miles!” Raziel shouted to the crowd. Ichiro and Mori both looked mortified by these proceedings but that didn’t concern Raziel. “Which dock are we at?”

Miles looked like he wanted to die as the crowd’s attention turned to him. Miles said something but it wasn’t loud enough for Raziel to hear over the crowd’s burbling laughter. Raziel put a hand to his ear to show them he hadn’t heard. Exasperated, Hoeru stood up and shouted to him.

“Thirty-nine west!”

“Thank you!” Raziel said and turned back to Baromah. “Thirty-nine west.”

“Very well,” Baromah said. “We can now proceed with-“

“Wait,” Hiro interjected before Baromah could say any more.

Raziel’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. Was he about to change his mind? Could he do that?

“Kid, those two, the changeling and the kid with the glasses. Are they any good in a fight?”

Raziel was caught completely off guard. He had to think for a moment. Hoeru certainly was and, though he wouldn’t have thought so before everything happened in Peritura, he had to admit that Miles had more than held his own as well.

“Uh, yeah.”

“What are their names.”

“Hoeru and Miles, uh sir. Miles Sommer.”

“And just Hoeru?”

Raziel had to think about that for a moment as well. He turned to the crowd and shouted.

“Hoeru, do you have a last name?”

“Just Hoeru,” came the answering shout.

“Just Hoeru,” Raziel said. And then added belatedly, “Sir.”

Hiro now had both palms pressed into his eyes while the crowd roared with laughter, some derisive, some genuine.

“Ichiro call them up here.”

“I- Both of them?“

“Just do it. This isn’t going to get any more ridiculous than it already is. I hope.”

Ichiro desperately tried to contain his frustration. He looked to Mori and Baromah. Mori was pointedly ignoring the entire proceedings, as though, if he just didn’t acknowledge any of it, none of it was actually happening. Baromah on the other hand seemed just as confused as Ichiro. The old Gholam gave a shrug that made his wooden shoulders creek. Ichiro shook his head in something like disbelief before calling out,

“Miles Sommer. Hoeru. Please come to the stage.”

Raziel’s friends made their way down the steps. Raziel could tell that both of them felt every single eye in the arena on them. Miles had a panicked look in his eyes like he wanted to melt into the cracks in the stone and disappear. Hoeru was holding up better but even he looked a bit like a dog that had been called to task by its master, his back slouched and his head down. When both of them stood on the stage, Ichiro turned back to Hiro, a question in his eyes.

“Alright you two. I want you both to throw a punch,” Hiro said.

“Just… throw a punch?” Miles asked.

Hiro rolled his hands in a ‘get on with it’ motion and nodded his head vigorously.

“Yes, hurry up about it.”

Hoeru shrugged and brought his hands up. His arm shot out, the motion quick and sharp enough that his sleeve made a snapping sound against his arm. Miles, looking green, did his best to copy the motion but he looked more like he was trying to shake something off of his hand.

“I’ve seen enough. I’m offering you both positions in my school. Do you accept?”

Hoeru shrugged again.

“Sure.”

“Good. What about you?” Hiro said, his head snapping towards Miles.

Miles flinched like he’d been struck. He opened his mouth but words wouldn’t come out.

“Fire and Glory,” Hiro said, throwing his hands up. “Yes or no?”

Miles tried to force words out, failed, and settled for a nod.

“Fantastic. Ichiro, show them where to go.”

“Master, I need to facilitate the-“

Baromah raised a hand to interrupt before any further nonsense occurred.

“I will have one of my students tell them where to go.”

“Great,” Hiro said. “Perfect. Wonderful.”

And just like that, Raziel, Miles, and Hoeru became students of the eighth school of the Daishinrin.