Stealing Sorcery (35 page)

“You may not.” Lieutenant Torrent folded his arms. “You failed in two ways, Taelien. One was creating conditions where we’d have to either pass everyone or identify the sigils that you made yourself and give them a new set of rules. We chose the former for the sake of simplicity, but the latter was an option – you were never told how much the sigils would count for. In either case, you interfered with the intent behind the test itself.”

“Second, you failed your platoon. By giving everyone an equal benefit, you effectively provided no net benefit to your platoon mates. Since our rankings are competitive and most of the platoons benefitted from cooperation, having you in the test was like having an empty space in your team.”

Salaris turned his gaze downward, remaining silent.

“If you had taken the time to think about the test, you could have given a large number of sigils directly to your platoon members, allowing them to have comparable scores to what Susan accomplished for Platoon 1. If you had communicated your intentions to anyone on your platoon, they could have helped you work faster by supplying you with materials. That might have earned you an even better score – and, more than likely, led to one of your platoon members telling you that splitting them with the entire applicant pool was a bad idea. Why didn’t you ask them?”

“I –”

“Rhetorical question. I know the answer. You wanted to surprise them. You wanted to be the hero, sweeping in at the last second to change a failure into a resounding success. Let me tell you a little something about heroes, Taelien – eventually, their luck runs out. And then they’re just a superfluous martyr, putting on one final show.”

“Now, do you understand how you failed the test?”

Taelien nodded again, his nose still pointed at the floor.

“Good. Now, take your piece of rope and don’t fail your platoon again. Dismissed.”

***

It wasn’t because I wanted to be a hero.
Taelien walked slowly, head still tilted downward, as he headed toward the arena.

But the truth is worse. I just wanted to feel necessary.

The swordsman toyed with the piece of red rope as he walked. He didn’t need to carry it with him – the “red flag” was a symbolic warning about his test score, not something intended to be displayed.

By the time he had reached the arena, he had managed to use one of his forged symbols to attach the flag to his uniform tunic. If the Paladins of Tae’os had been a typical military organization, he knew that any kind of modifications to his uniform would have been a breach of conduct. Given how informal they tended to be, however, he suspected the officers would let the action slide.

More importantly, he hoped they would understand his intentions – it was a gesture of humility to remind himself of the costs of his pride.

When he arrived at the Korinval Coliseum, he found the rest of his platoon waiting for him near the front entrance. Asphodel, Eridus, Teshvol, and Kolask were gathered in a huddle discussing something near the left side of the door. Velas and Landen were off to the right side, chatting separately.

Landen folded his arms and squinted at the red ribbon as Taelien approached. “Accessorizing?”

Taelien shrugged, giving a half-smile. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You wouldn’t believe the number of mornings I’ve had that thought go through my mind.”

“You’re right, I wouldn’t believe you had that many thoughts.”

“Ouch.” Landen slapped him on the shoulder affectionately, chuckling. “What’s that for, anyway?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it right now.”

“Fair. Not like we’ve got a lot of time – now that you’re here, I think we’re going to get started shortly.”

Velas leaned back against the stone wall of the outside of the coliseum, watching the exchange with an amused grin. “If you two are done flirting, maybe we can get back to planning?”

Landen shot a glance at Velas. “I thought you enjoyed watching.”

“I do, but now isn’t exactly the best time.” She folded her arms. “Somebody want to fill Sal in?”

The rest of the platoon glanced around at each other. There were no volunteers.

Velas rolled her eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it. This one is pretty simple, but it’s going to be a huge pain. Once we get in there, they’re going to hand us seven flags, as well as stands for each of them. We’ll have seven minutes to set them up on our half of the arena.”

Landen walked over to the wall, leaning up against it next to Velas. “Platoon 1 will be doing the same thing on their side at the same time. We’ll be able to see each other, so it’s not a stealth game. Once the seven minutes are up, the goal is to capture or destroy the other team’s flags. We’ll have a spot on the far side of our end where we can drop off anything we captured.”

“Oh, sure, now you want to talk,” Velas elbowed Landen in the ribs and he returned the gesture. “Anyway, captures are two points, destroying an enemy flag is worth one point. We’ll only have seven minutes to capture or destroy as many flags as possible – while they’re trying to do the same to our flags.”

“And we can put our flags anywhere on our side of the arena?”

Velas nodded. “Yeah. If we put them all toward the back, they’ll be harder to hit from a distance, but clustering them together means it would be easier to snag more than one at a time.”

“One more pretty big snag.” Landen folded his hands in front of him. “If you hit anyone with an attack or a spell – on your own team or the other team – you lose one or more points. Of course, if you throw yourself in the way of an attack and get hit by it, that’s on you. Also, you lose one point if you destroy one of your own flags.”

Taelien scratched his chin. “How do they determine how many points you lose from hitting someone?”

Velas’ eyes narrowed dangerously. “Don’t even think about it, Sal. We’ll all have barriers on – you’re not going to be able to take someone out of the competition with the sacrifice of a single point.”

The swordsman nodded in reply. “I’d rather not do something underhanded like that anyway, but it was worth considering – especially since they might try it on us.”

“Uh-huh.” Velas glanced at Landen. “Am I forgetting anything?”

“Not really. We just need a solid plan – they have a lot more ranged firepower than we do.”

Terras, Keldyn, and Wandering War all on one platoon – yeah, they’ve got us beaten at range. No question. I don’t even know how we could defend against that.

Taelien pondered for a moment, folding his hands together. “Can we move our flags after the match starts?”

“Yep. Already planning to have our defenders do that – it’s probably the only chance we have at keeping any of our flag safe.” Velas pointed at Asphodel. “She’s in charge of coordinating the defenders.”

“I take it the three of us are running offense, then?”

“Actually, we’re not quite settled on that. Is that the Sae’kes or your fake?”

He tapped the sword on his left side. “The real one. You want me to use it?”

Velas nodded. “You can cut through spells with it, yeah?”

The swordsman grinned. “I don’t need a special sword for that.”

“But you’re better with it.” Landen pointed at the sacred weapon. “I’ve seen you train – you react faster when you’re holding it.”

“And I doubt you can cut through any spell you want with an ordinary sword.” Velas tilted her head downward. “Fire, yeah, I’ve seen that. You’re a flame sorcerer. But what about Keldyn’s conjured blades, or Terras’ lightning?”

“Conjured swords might be tricky,” Taelien admitted. “I don’t think they’re made of metal, so I probably can’t just annihilate them with a tap. The Sae’kes would be better for breaking those, sure.” He scratched his chin. “As for lightning, uh, you’re probably on your own there. Flattered you’d think of me as a counter to that, but even if I could split it, I’m not fast enough.”

Landen pressed his hands to his cheeks in mock shock. “I must be dreaming. Did you just admit you couldn’t do something?”

Velas pinched Landen’s arm. “Nope, guess he’s just finally cracked.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad. I admit my weaknesses all the time.” Taelien folded his arms.

The other two just stared at him silently.

The swordsman sighed. “Okay, fine. I might like to brag a little. Can we move on?”

Landen laughed. “Just giving you a hard time, Sal. Okay, no parrying lightning. But you think you can handle Keldyn’s sword?”

“Please tell me that’s a euphemism,” Velas winked at Landen.

Taelien let out a sigh, choosing his words deliberately. “I can break any sorcerous weapons he conjures if I use the Sae’kes.”

“You could at least try to play along,” Velas complained.

“But I don’t think I should use the Sae’kes at all,” Taelien continued, ignoring Velas’ insinuations. “First, it’s dangerous. And second, I’d be concerned they’ll call it cheating.”

“Doubt the latter,” Landen clasped his hands together in front of him. “You’ve spent a lot of time training with it. I’d say being able to use the sword is a legitimate part of your skill set. As for the former, well, be careful?”

“Gonna have to agree with Lan on this one.” Velas stepped forward and tapped the sword on the pommel. She made a perplexed expression after she took her hand away, stepping back and shaking her head.

“Overwhelmed by the sheer power of my sword?” Taelien chuckled.

Velas was uncharacteristically silent, tilting her head away.

Well, that wasn’t weird or anything.

“I’ll, uh, consider using it. But you should put me on offense either way – I’m resh at blocking.”

“We know,” Landen replied with a nod.

“Thanks for the support. You’re just a font of emotional validation today.”

“Glad to be of service. Anyway, the real question is where we put Vel.”

Velas glanced back, nodding, but maintaining a distracted expression. “Yeah. After all, I’m the fastest, the strongest, and the most beautiful.”

Landen glanced at her and gave a scoffing chuckle. “Of a team consisting solely of yourself, maybe.”

“She’s got a point,” Taelien noted, drawing both of the others to look at him. “One out of three, anyway. She is the fastest. At least at making innuendo.”

“I – I don’t even know if I should be offended by that.” Velas put a hand over her chest.

“Probably,” Landen offered helpfully.

“So, speed. If Velas takes defense, she’d probably be our best bet at keeping a flag safe – maybe even more than one. She’s just vastly more maneuverable than the rest of us.”

“Although, to be fair, Asphodel can anticipate attacks and just stand where they’re not going to be,” Landen pointed out.

“That’s going to be less effective against lightning – I think the only real way to defend against Terras is going to be moving too fast for her to target, or finding a location she can’t hit. Are we allowed to leave the arena once the test starts?”

Velas shook her head slowly. “Cute idea, but no.”

“Probably just have to block the flags with our bodies, then, so she’d have to hit us at the same time as the flags.”

“That’s what we were planning on.” Velas pointed at Eridus. “I asked Eridus if he could make a shield out of water – he’s a water sorcerer – but apparently he’s more specialized in shaping than calling. Can’t conjure enough for an effective barrier.”

Barriers, huh?

Taelien grinned. “I think I have an idea.”

“Well,” Velas shifted her hands to her hips, “That sounds terrifying.”

***

The crowd in the coliseum was much smaller this time – only a couple dozen paladins and the usual officers and judges.

“Line up in the center,” Colonel Wyndam ordered, her voice echoing throughout the stadium.

A broad white chalk line had been marked in the center of the arena, neatly dividing the stadium into halves. The platoons lined up facing each other, awaiting further instructions.

A team of paladins entered the arena, bringing out seven flags and stands for each team. The flags themselves were nondescript – blue for Platoon 1 and red for Platoon 2 with no significant markings. Taelien was amused that Susan Crimson, who stood across from him, would be fighting against the team with the red flags.

The flag poles, unfortunately, were wooden – immediately nullifying one portion of Taelien’s plan. The stands were wooden as well.

Each platoon had seven members remaining, and thus, each was initially handed a single flag. Taelien glanced over the other platoon, noting that The Wandering War was the only member of the opposing team that wasn’t wearing at least half-dozen sigils from the previous contest. Unconsciously, he reached for the red ribbon on his chest.

“When the first gong rings, you will have seven minutes to position your flags and yourselves. When the second gong rings, you may begin to attempt to capture or destroy the opposing team’s flags. When the third gong rings, the contest is at an end.”

“Marginal damage to a flag will not constitute destruction, but splitting a flag in half, burning more than a third of the surface, or otherwise significantly harming the flag will be sufficient.”