Chapter 11: Chapter 10: Round 1 (Part 2)

-----The Devout-----

“The first round has officially begun.”

Gulliver had hardly been paying attention to the Officiators, instead looking off into the distance as he tried to determine which direction the fiend’s smell had been coming from. So it was a surprise to him when the competitors around him started either drawing weapons or trying to sprint away. Only when he heard the first clash of steel on steel did the meaning of the words come to him.

Fortunately, he had been standing on the edge of the crowd, which spared him from the immediate chaos. But it didn’t stop one of the competitors from taking a shot at him.

He saw what initially appeared to be steel wheel flying through the air towards him. His gauntlet came up to protect him just in time, and the steel weapon sliced across it. In that moment, he was able to get a better look at what it actually was: four curved blades arrayed in a circle connected together by a central grip. The blades left a scratch across his gauntlet but didn’t piece it, and Gulliver was able to knock its trajectory to harmlessly pass by him.

The man who had thrown the strange wheel still had his arm outstretched. His attacker wore all black, down to a black hood and mask which obscured any distinguishing features. Gulliver wasn’t sure why the man was just standing there, as if holding a pose, but he didn’t want to give him another chance to attack. He drew broadsword –

The sound of the bladed wheel whirling behind him cured his curiosity. He spun, bringing his sword around as he did in a defensive position across his chest and neck as he did. The wheel had somehow come back towards him, and he was just barely about to parry its blades with his sword. When he felt the sword connect with the wheel, he cut down, intending to knock the flying weapon to the ground.

While he succeeded in bashing the wheel away from him, it surprised him by stopping before its descent before hitting the ground, then continuing along its path. It returned to the man who threw it, who caught it in his outstretched hand.

The two glared at each other for a moment. Gulliver estimated that his foe was contemplating whether to toss the bladed wheel again. There was a bit of distance between them, but Gulliver was ready to rush across that gap the moment he tried to toss that wheel.

The masked man must have thought better of it, because he flipped the wheel in his hand, causing the blades to fold together until they appeared to only be a single blade. Then he dashed off further into the grounds. His speed was such that even if Gulliver wanted to chase him, he didn’t stand much of a chance of catching up. But he wasn’t interested in following the masked man, anyway. Not when he had a more important target to find.

He was able to walk away from the podium without getting attacked again. With how much fighting had broken out among the competitors there, he wasn’t sure if he had just gotten lucky, or if the symbol of his order made him an intimidating enough figure that the competitors sought easier target. Either way, he walked to the pier without encountering further difficulties. He kept his sword in his hand just in case.

It was still hard to narrow down the direction of his target. He realized he was wandering blindly, and had no way of knowing if the fiend was even still here or if they had already begun their trip across the sea. It would be tougher to find them on the island – that was a lot of space to cover, and it appeared to be covered in thick foliage.

Gulliver walked closer to the edge of the pier to try and get a better view of the island, to see if he could make out a detail such as likely places boats might land. His eyes were instead drawn to the water, where massive danced just below the surface.

These shadows gave him a disconcerting feeling, so he put a hand to his amulet and chanted the Mantra of the God of Law. His sword began to radiate pure light, giving him a clear view of what laid below. He almost wished it hadn’t.

Tentacles, teeth, slimy appendages such as webbed hands, and eyes. A whole mess of eyes. What he taken to be multiple massive sea creatures was one terrifying monstrosity, an absurd mesh of limbs and orifices that his mind struggled to make sense of.

Was it a fiend? No, he didn’t sense anything fiendish from it. If anything, the air around here felt cleaner and more pure than it had anywhere else in the tournament grounds. But whatever it was certainly was not natural. The primordial fear that ran down his spine was evidence of that.

He was distracted enough by it he didn’t hear the other competitor approach.

“Oh, well if it isn’t the sniffing pervert.” The muscular lady he’d met near the podium came up beside him. “Are you fancying a swim? I’d lose the armor first. Probably make you sink.”

Gulliver put himself on guard, but he didn’t sense any hostilities from the woman’s body language. He reasoned that if she wanted to attack him, she could have done so while he was distracted. Still, he kept his sword ready, just in case.

“Swimming seems a bad idea in any event,” he replied. “Take a look for yourself.”

While not lowering his guard completely, he held his sword slightly over the water to give her a view of the horrors within.

“The tournament commission sure knows how to show a lady a good time. Well, I could use the warmup.” She started to stretch out her muscles as if she actually intended to dive into the water with those monsters.

It probably wasn’t in Gulliver’s best interest to try and protect one his competitors from taking themselves out, but he still felt a little responsibility to at least try to stop someone from dying such a gruesome death. “I urge you to reconsider what it appears you are thinking about doing. These beasts – if you can even call them that – are likely to tear you limb from limb.”

She seemed unconcerned as she finished her stretches. “They will probably try. But they’ll find I’m no damsel in despair. Besides, a good dip in cold water is just what I need to brace myself for the challenge.”

He shrugged. Either she was committed to killing herself or was completely delusional. Either way, he couldn’t help her.

“Alright, better get going if I want to make it to the island before morning.” She winked at him. “If you want to take another sniff, now might be your last chance.”

“I … no, thank you.”

“Your loss.”

With that, she dove off the pier and into the sea. Immediately, there was rumbling as the massive horror reacted to her presence. Gulliver held the sword’s light over the water to get a clearer look as the monster grabbed the woman with a webbed hand and pulled her under. It sunk deeper into the sea, disappearing out of the range illuminated by the sword.

Gulliver sighed. He had tried to warn her.

As he started to walk away, considering whether he should try to find a way across the water or continue his hunt for the fiend, there suddenly came another rumbling. The whole pier felt like it was shaking.

There was an eruption of water as a gargantuan, slimy body burst from the sea. It’s form towered over even the walls surrounding the tournament grounds, and more of it was still beneath the water. It let out a piercing wail that Gulliver could swear sounded like it was in distress.

Then he spotted her atop it. The muscular lady had some kind of eyestalk clutched in her fists, gripping it so hard that the eye atop it looked like it was about to pop.

With another wail, the creature descended back into the sea. It’s huge form diving created a sizable wave that came crashing down on the pier, and completely engulfed Gulliver. He had to plant his sword into the wood and hold on to prevent being washed out to sea. When it was all over, heithout accidentally shoving people, but Jovan was able to nimbly step between people without even looking up.

They were making good time towards the platform, when they found the last tunnel they needed to get through impassably congested. With his height, Gulliver was quickly able to discern the reason why: there was a performance being put on. A woman was dancing while tossing swords and daggers through the air, catching between graceful movements and leaps.

“An unfortunate time for a performance,” Gulliver commented. “How are we meant to get through this?”

Jovan looked up from his writing as if suddenly noticing they were stopped. “Ah, her again. Afi, I think she calls herself. She’s been putting on these performances all day. They don’t usually last long, and the crowd should clear up after. I’m a bit surprised she’s still doing this, though. She claims she’s entering the tournament. You would assume she would have caught a train by now, instead of wasting more time doing crowd work.”

That was odd. She may be intending to take the same train as Gulliver, but if so, she was cutting it close. As was he.

As he was impatiently waiting for the performance to come to an end, counting the minutes before his train would depart without him, he heard something shift just behind him. A pull on the drawstring of his pouch. Traveling through the lawless country where his position made him a target, Gulliver had plenty of experience dealing with cutpurses. So he instinctively reached out to grab whoever was trying to steal from him.

He was surprised when his hand seemed to grab onto the thin air. It felt like he was holding someone by the shirt collar, and he could feel something struggling in his grip, but he couldn’t see anything.

Then there was a flickering of a form in front of him. Quick flashes, briefly revealing a human, before finally coming to rest, exposing the man Gulliver had in his grasp. He was a small man, both short and shockingly thin, with a bald head and leathery skin. The cutpurse struggled against Gulliver’s grip, but to no avail.

“Hey, man, what’s your deal?” the thief demanded. “Let me go!”

Gulliver pulled him closer. “I don’t know what form of magic you possess, but it doesn’t matter. You will not succeed in stealing from me. I suggest you return what you took. From me, and anyone else you robbed in the crowd.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, man!”

“If you resist, I will take it back from you by force.”

The thief snarled at him. “You can try.”

He grabbed both sides of Gulliver’s arm. And then his body started to contort.

It was as if suddenly the thief’s body had no bones. The thief’s arms coiled around Gulliver’s, wrapping around his arm over and over like angry snakes, and his body twisted around Gulliver’s midsection, his legs coming together in a sick knot. In shock, Gulliver released his grip on the man and attempted to shake him free, but the thief only tightened his hold.

Gulliver could feel the thief pulling his arm straight, trying to pull it past that point. He was trying to break his arm, Gulliver realized. Gulliver strained his muscles against the force being applied, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back against it for long.

Their struggle was gathering attention, and the crowd started to back away from this strange conflict. It opened up just enough space for Gulliver to move.

He took the opportunity and rushed to the side of the tunnel – and slammed his shoulder into the wall. The thief cried out as he struck the tunnel wall, and he released his hold on Gulliver. Gulliver grabbed him, though it was like trying to grab a handful of loose noodles. He got enough of a grip on some part of the thief’s wriggling form to lift him and chucked him against the wall.

Coins, purses, and pouches burst forth from underneath the thief’s clothes. The crowd gathered closer, and people began to shout.

“Hey, that’s my purse!”

“That guy has my pouch!”

“Huh? My coins are all missing from my pocket! Did this guy take them, too?”

The thief cursed, and his form began to flicker. A moment later, he appeared to disappear.

Gulliver went on alert, attempting to locate his unseen adversary, but spotting an invisible foe would be hard enough under normal circumstances. As the members of the crowd began to push past him to reclaim their missing belongings, it went from hard to impossible.

He sighed, deciding he really didn’t have time for this anyway. Best to let the thief go. He found his own pouch on the ground, retied it to his waist, and proceeded at a hurried pace towards the platform.

Javon caught up to him, scribbling in his journal. “That was really impressive. You not only were aware of the presence of someone no one could see, you were able to grab them. How did you manage that?”

Gulliver shrugged. “Mostly instinct. I sensed a cutpurse and reacted as I normally would. Kind of embarrassing, what happened next. His abilities caught me off guard and I did not respond to them in a way befitting a Devout.”

“Many strange abilities await you in the tournament,” Javon warned him. “You’ll need to be prepared for them.”

“Yes. If anything, I may owe the thief for the lesson.”

They arrived at Platform 12 just as the final warning whistle was blowing. The train was departing in just a minute. He couldn’t have cut it any closer.

“Well, Javon, it has been nice to meet you,” Gulliver said. “I hope I did a good job answering your questions. I’ve never been in a teaching role before.”

“I learned quite a lot, thank you.” Javon adjusted his spectacles with his forefinger. “Actually, real quick before you go – the archive has certain requirements that need to be met for any testimony to be entered into it as fact. You’re a reliable source, given your position, so I can skip most of it, if I can get your signature verifying that everything written comes from what you have said and is truthful.”

Javon handed over his journal and pen. The page that the book was open to had a line marked with an X for his signature. There was a wall of text above it in the smallest script Gulliver had ever seen.

With the train leaving immediately, there was no time for him to review it. But after Javon’s help in the stables, he had earned this much trust. Gulliver quickly signed his name and handed the book back to him.

“Thanks. You’ve been a big help,” Javon said as he quickly tucked the journal into a jacket pocket.

Then he surprised Gulliver by stepping onto the train.

“Oh – uh – are you also headed to the tournament grounds?” Gulliver thought that perhaps he was seeking more fighters to interview. Though if they were headed to the same place, why did he make the interview sound so urgent?

“Of course. I’m a competitor as well, after all.” Javon smirked. “Thanks for all the information. I like to know everything about my toughest competition. You’ve given me plenty to think about, but I think by the end of the train ride, I’ll have thought up a way to beat you.”

Then he disappeared inside the train, leaving Gulliver standing there with his mouth hanging open.

“Did I just … I just fed one of my opponents everything about how I fight,” he said to himself.

The train began to move, and Gulliver cursed himself for being so distracted. He grabbed the rail of the next car that came by and pulled himself onto it.

Once on the train, he made his way over to the car that Javon had gone into. There was no sign of the bespectacled man. He must have made his way to another car.

What would Gulliver even do if he caught up to him? Yell at him? Toss him off the train?

The train already seemed a powder keg of ‘tough’ types all on edge as they made their way towards a life-or-death struggle. Starting a fight here wouldn’t be wise.

Besides, he really only had himself to blame for being so trusting. His competitors would use every trick they possessed to gain the upper hand. This was his second lesson of the day about being prepared for anything.

He hoped there wouldn’t be a third.ut he pressed onward, knowing that whatever grabbed him was right behind. He pushed on, against the weight of his armor, against the darkness enveloping him, against the dread that was on his heels.

He surfaced on the muddy bank and took a greedy breath of air before coughing up all the water that had gotten into his lungs. With desperate strides he climbed up the bank, but only made it a few steps before the water behind him erupted once more.

A face with far too many eyes centered around a maw with too many teeth bore down on him. Gulliver reached for his sword, but wasn’t sure if he could draw it in time.

Gregos’s rapier pierced through one of those eyes. It burst, spewing a white, pussy liquid. The horror wailed and retreated back into the water.

Neither of the swordsmen wanted to test how long it would be before it returned. They scrambled to the closest surviving supports for the pier and pulled themselves up. Only when they were safely above the water did they take a moment to breathe.

“I appreciate your timely aid,” Gulliver said between panted breaths.

Gregos scoffed. “A Talmien knows how to pay their debts. You saved my life once, so I saved yours. Now I owe you nothing. What’s more, we still have something to settle between us.” He stood up straight and held up his rapier.

Gulliver groaned. “Do you still want to do that?”

There was a slow, rhythmic tapping sound along the deck, followed by a woman voice. “Come now, boys. Certainly you’ve destroyed enough of the pier.”

An old woman was slowly making their way towards them, leaning on her cane with every step.

“An observer?” Gulliver ventured.

“She was on my ferry,” Gregos commented. “I believe she’s one of the competitors.”

“I am indeed one of this tournament’s hopefuls,” the old woman said, leaving Gulliver dumbstruck. “And while you lads were busy playing around, I was working to find a way to get to the next round. I so happened to find one of the hidden boats, but its captain doesn’t want to leave until he has filled all the seats. Of which there happens to be two left. You could go back to trying to kill each other, which might make for a fun show, but would mean that I’d have to find someone else to fill a seat. And my poor legs are already aching. Be good boys and come along, would you?”

Despite everything that he had just been through, Gulliver was feeling pretty calm. She was right – the important thing was getting to the next round. That’s where he would find the fiend he needed to slay.

He looked over to Gregos to ensure that the nobleman was thinking the same thing.

“I suppose I can put this one’s slights aside if it means having a guaranteed path to the next round,” Gregos said, sheathing his rapier. It sounded as though his anger had finally deflated.

Gulliver nodded to the woman. “Lead the way.”

The old woman was true to her word and led them to a hidden boathouse where a small vessel awaited. As Gulliver took his seat, a thought came to his mind: it was kind of strange how quickly they trusted this stranger. If she was truly another competitor, she could have just as easily lured them into a trap. Was it just because she was older, and thus seemed defenseless?

Just as quickly as the thought came, it faded away. As the captain of the boat brought it out to sea, Gulliver’s mind became focused on only one thing:

Somewhere ahead a fiend awaited him. He would not allow it to survive.