313: Tested (Part Five)

Tested (Part Five)

0Tycondrius placed his hand on his chin, examining the young Archer. Victorius had taken no injuries on the run. He stood with his chest out, full of vigor in his heart and a courageous fire in his eyes. 

He would have been impressed... that is, if the boy wasn't so vehemently insisting upon his cowardice. 

Tycon took a deep breath, trying not to let irritation mark his voice... "Just as I asked Tanamar before you... I'd like a reason."

His gaze sharpened, "A. proper. reason."

Victorius grimaced briefly. 

"I'm injured, Sir," He admitted without shame. 

"Seven flame-f*cked hells, are you being serious?" Tycon took a step forward, gritting his teeth and trying not to strangle the boy. "Victorius of House Vanzano, I've seen you run. If it doesn't hurt terribly to move, you can swing a wooden stick just. as. well."

"This is an exhibition, not a life-or-death duel!" Tycon raised his voice, gesturing to the others. "You have options available! You can fight the Librarian! Or you can fight your fellow footman, Tanamar!" 

"Emptyyyyy NIGHT," Tycon groaned, half-clenching shaking fists, "If you'd like, I'll bind an arm behind my back-- I'll even allow you the first three strikes! I'll bind BOTH arms if I need to!!"

Still, the blonde footman's face remained impassive. 

"Come on, then?!!" Tycon's frustration crescendoed his voice to shouting. "The purpose of this exercise is to measure your reflexes and combat sense! Is there any part of this that's unreasonable? Tell me!"

Tycon looked back to Athena and Tanamar. They offered nothing. 

Centurion Zenon responded by tossing the remaining practice sword. Directed through the air by an unseen hand, it sunk into the sand beside Victorius. The footman only had to reach forward and grasp its hilt. 

Tycon felt the muscles in his eyes spasming from anger. He had to divert his willpower in keeping his gaze undimmed, so he didn't inflict a Third-Circle poisonous affliction upon all his companions. 

"It comes down to beliefs, then..." Tycon scowled, gnashing his teeth, "You believe you shouldn't fight. I believe that you... you MUST... have something worth fighting for... 

"On the field, men and women fight and die for their beliefs. Some on the behalf of their deity. Some for love... some for honor. Many fight for something even more base... food to stave off dying of starvation or a place to sleep, safe from the elements."

Tycon glared, "--or perhaps to gain a f*cking modicum of self-respect."

Anger welled in Tycon's heart. He lifted his gaze towards Victorius, trying to gauge the fellow's reaction... but it only made his killing intent surge more violently, threatening to spill blood.

There was something. There was always something that a person held dear to them, human or not... The only reason to live was if there was something-- thrice-damned anything that was worth fighting for. 

If he could find that for the Archer... he had the potential to be their strongest ally. 

"What. the f*ck. do you believe in, Victorius?"

The Archer narrowed his eyes, "I won't fight."

Tycon had enough. 

He didn't have his previous memories... but he recalled... an emotion. He held a deep, nostalgic feeling... of what it was like to face uncertain death. It wasn't split-second, adrenaline-pumping life-or-death he recalled. It was the intimate feeling of struggling for suns and moons and years and epochs... with the only reward being survival. 

For him, surviving for minutes or bells more... was a cause worth fighting for. 

Athena was juggling her academy studies and her shite family... and she still remained hardworking and honest. Tanamar had taken a second-job to assist her-- even though that job was far beneath his station. 

Tycon's efforts were going towards strengthening Athena and House Vanzano... They knew this. He had explained his plans beforehand. There was no mystery behind his goals. 

Victorius had the opportunity to repay that faith, both his and Athena's. All he had to do was train. 

He refused. 

That was... unacceptable. 

"In my world..." Tycon snarled, "If you do not fight, you die."

He gathered all of his rage, the wild and tumultuous mana... and he condensed it. The concentration of power coursed through his form. The refined mana was pure, its intent was clear, and its capability lethal. 

Tycon willed his body forward. He felt his legs kick off of the sand, faster than an Iron-Rank could possibly move. A giant wave of sand kicked up behind him in his wake. 

Tycon raised his sword. The swing was slow. The attack was telegraphed. The speed and force of it was more than enough to crack Victorius' human skull, dislodge his spine, and spread a cloud of pink mist into the air as congratulations. 

Wind and sand swirled around the two as Tycon stopped his weapon, ilms away from contact.

The wood of the practice blade began to crack.

In order to stop his movement, Tycon had to channel a large burst of mana into his weapon to counter the force. Expectedly, the wooden sword broke apart, dissipating into golden flecks of sand that fell onto the beach. 

Victorius had fallen on his arse, shielding his face with both of his hands. Tears had pooled at the corners of his eyes. 

A welt was reddening on the side of his head from a weapon that hadn't even struck him. 

Tycon clenched his right hand, crumbling the rest of his sword into mana dust. 

He turned back to the others, "We're returning to the manor."

Without another word, Tycon increased his pace, jogging back towards the Vanzano estate. 

...

Zenon watched his Optio depart. He was pissed... and for good reason. In the Church, 'Failure to Train' got you executed. The real world operated differently... not at all like in the military. 

Athena was on her feet, stretching, getting ready for the run back. Tanamar was still staring at Victorius. The other footman sat alone, his unfocused gaze looking out over the ocean waters. 

...No. Tanamar was still staring at the place in the sand where Tycon was once standing. 

Zenon wondered what was going through his mind. 

He stood up, "Let's get going, everyone."

Whatever thoughts he had, Tanamar shook his head, discarding it, "Yeah... Let's go."

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