Fan Fiction ❯ The Weaver Telarius ❯ Enter Vincent ( Chapter 9 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

I hadn't expected the event to be so hyped up. I mean, the Tri-wizard tournament was big deal, certainly. I would never in my right mind even think to dispute that. Still, when I saw the entire population of students and faculty at Hogwarts there for the first challenge, and heard the loud, incomprehensible shouts of the crowd, I admit I felt a little uneasy. I would have to shake that off soon, though. I knew what the first challenge would be. There was only one opponent that I needed to worry about. That, of course, was Vincent Malivore.

I sat in the waiting room for the contestants while the staff was preparing the massive arena (which I had never noticed before this time). Without warning, I heard the voice of Dumbledore over something like an intercom. "Attention students, staff, and Tri-wizard champions. Today's challenge will consist of duels between the competitors. The rules are as follows. Random chance shall decide which competitor chooses the form of the duel. Once chosen, form can be changed in the duel by one of the competitors, but it will lose them some points. And, speaking of points, scoring shall be based off of who wins the duel as well as grace, competence, and cunning. Points will be taken away for changing the format of the duel. Usage of lethal techniques will result in a severe loss of points."

As Dumbledore continued to explain how each of us would be scored on a one to ten system, I cursed the format of this challenge. Random chance was never in my favour, and I'd be damned if I got to choose even one form of dueling that day. I wasn't far off in my thinking, either. I also took notice of the roster, which proceeded as follows:

Meriam -> Vincent
Phillip -> Vincent
Meriam -> Telarius
Meriam -> Phillip
Telarius -> Phillip
Telarius -> Vincent

Just my luck that the bloke got a good long rest against me. Worse yet, I had to go up against him right after Phillip. The way we arranged it, that could be quite bad. Still, I would get the opportunity to see what he was good and bad at, respectively. I turned and whispered to Phillip.

"If you get the option, challenge him with steel."

"Why?"

"I want to see if he has any measure of skill. If not, and I'm given the option, I'll be able to tap one of my best resources."

"Makes sense. Hey, Meriam and Vincent are about to go. Wanna watch?"

"Wouldn't miss it for anything, my friend."

They stood roughly ten feet away from each other. There was a glowing arrow upon the ground that was spinning rapidly. It slowed down, and eventually stopped on Vincent. He grinned a bit, then spoke. It was the first time I had ever heard his voice. It was surprisingly pleasant. "Magical duel. Whoever is the first to drop their wand loses the match. The disarming spell is disallowed."

Damn, he was intelligent. I liked his style, though. I was eager to see how this turned out. Each champion withdrew their wand from their robes. Vincent held his rather high, I thought, and Meriam's was quite close to her body. The duel began with such haste that I almost missed the first incantations. Vincent cast a light spell, hoping to throw Meriam off into wasting whatever defense she planned. It worked, too. With that spell burned, Vincent had the initiative, but waited for Meriam to regain composure. He was feeling her out, not feinting and then going directly for the kill. I was starting to appreciate his form.

Meriam seemed to take it as a sign of pity, though, and lashed out with a fireball. I winced for a moment before I realized that it had to be an illusion. Unfortunately for Meriam, Vincent realized this as well, and walked directly through it, still holding his wand high. Another quick incantation, and he had her feet taken out from under her. She rolled to recover and, in a last ditch effort, attempted to summon his wand to her.

This had the desired effect. His wand did come to her. Along with him, though. He rode the magical skyway, as it where and, just before she could grab his wand, he reversed it by casting a spell on her wand. He actually used the force that was drawing him towards her, flipped over and summoned her wand to him, adding her force to his. It was brilliant, and her wand was in his hands in seconds. Not only that, but it looked damned impressive. He wasn't a straight A student for nothing, though.

Vincent earned the full ten for that one, and Meriam a measly three. Phillip was next up, and I wished him well as he entered the arena. The arrow landed on him, which allowed me to breathe once more. "Duel with rapiers to first blood," Phillip's challenge was quite clear, but at the same time short and to the point.

The weapons were appropriated, and it now became a dance of blades that I watched. Vincent might have been a little fatigued from his last bout, but if he was, he wasn't showing it. Phillip assumed the traditional guard position in tierce while Vincent came to guard in seconde. It was, of course, an invitation for attack, and Phillip saw this. Phillip was intelligent enough to go for the invitation, though, knowing that there would be a response and prepared for it.

A thrust from tierce by Phillip, parried quarte by Vincent with a riposte direct in that line. Phillip responded with counter-tierce and made a cut to Vincent's left shoulder. The cut landed and drew a bit of blood. The duel was over, and victory was announced in Phillip's favour. I found myself joining the crowd in applause. It had been an excellent phrase, carried out with clean technique. And, like most duels to first blood, it was over with quickly. Phillip also showed insight into the intentions of his opponent, something which only the best swordsmen experience regularly. It was a good moment for him, and should have been scored highly.

The judges, however, seemed to think it was a fluke, and only rewarded him with 8 points, and Vincent with 2. It was quite the injustice, but I could do nothing about it. Especially since I was up against Meriam next.

As I entered the arena, I suddenly realized how much the booth I had been in deafened the sound outside. It was a rush of screaming, cheering, and various other exclamatory actions. I almost felt dizzy at that moment, but I had performed for crowds before. I saw the arrow as it spun, and realized that I had nothing to worry about. Regardless of what happened, Meriam would take a fall and make me seem the better. I took comfort in it, but a part of me hated the fact that she would be portrayed as less than she was.

Then I thought about Meriam, and realized that she needed a good humbling. The arrow landed on her, and she looked at me for a moment before she spoke. "A contest of musical performance. Create background music and sing a song. The winner is the person who gets the most applause."

I pursed my lips at this. On the one hand, music was my field of expertise. Even though I had not tested his body for quality of singing voice, I really just needed to do all the technical things which I knew to be correct. On the other hand, she had that aspect about her that might earn her more applause. Still, if she sang badly enough, or sang a song that they didn't like...

I bowed to her, signifying that I wished her to go first. She smiled, and took the center of the arena. She created the background music, even choir voices, with perfect clarity, and cast Sonarus to amplify her volume. Her voice in this body had a lower range, which made her performance quite interesting:

* * *

Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name, and it feels like home

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer
I'm down on my knees, I want to take you there
In the midnight hour, I can feel your power
Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

I hear your voice, it's like an angel sighing
I have no choice, I hear your voice
Feels like flying
I close my eyes, oh God I think I'm falling
Out of the sky, I close my eyes
Heaven help me

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer
I'm down on my knees, I want to take you there
In the midnight hour, I can feel your power
Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

Like a child, you whisper softly to me
You're in control, just like a child
Now I'm dancing
It's like a dream, no end and no beginning
You're here with me, it's like a dream
Let the choir sing

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer
I'm down on my knees, I want to take you there
In the midnight hour, I can feel your power
Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

When you call my name, it's like a little prayer
I'm down on my knees, I want to take you there
In the midnight hour, I can feel your power
Just like a prayer, you know I'll take you there

Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name, and it feels like home
Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there
Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery
Just like a dream, you are not what you seem
Just like a prayer, no choice, your voice can take me there

Just like a prayer, your voice can take me there
Just like a muse to me, you are a mystery
Just like a dream, you are not what you seem
Just like a prayer, no choice, your voice can take me there

* * *

Her ad-libbing at the end of the piece was outstanding, and the upbeat nature of the song definitely won people over. It was her enhanced charm, though, that brought the house down. The entire arena erupted with applause. I was certain that I wouldn't be able to best it. She humbly got down, turned to me, blushing a bit.

~She says she's sorry that she overdid it,~ Cordelia's mental voice told me.

~Tell her it's okay. I have a trick up my sleeve yet,~ I answered.

I took the center myself now. I added an element that she didn't. I manipulated the background of the arena and, standing there, I made a personal music video to accompany my music. I had also studied enough of the wizarding world's music to know that the song I selected was much like what they usually enjoyed. I had the range for it, and I took the stage, playing the part as I sang.

* * *

Once in a dream, far beyond these castle walls
Down near the bay where the moonlit water falls
I stood alone while the minstrel sang his song
So afraid I'd lost my soul

There in the fog, his song kept calling me
Leading me on with its haunting melody
Deep in my heart, a voice kept echoing
I knew I'd soon be wandering

Far beyond these castle walls
Where the distant harbor meets the sky
There the battle raged like hell
And every dove had lost its will to fly

Far beyond these castle walls
Where I thought I heard Tiresias say
Life is never what it seems
And every man must meet his destiny

* * *

It was powerful enough to win, I was sure of that from the moment the applause started. It felt great. For a moment, I felt like myself... my _real_ self again. That gave me an idea which helped me out later. I was judged at a nine, and Meriam a four.

Next to have their turns were Meriam and Phillip. She had recovered from the energy expended on her performance, for mine was quite long. Phillip looked curiously at the arrow as it spun between her and he. It finally landed on her. These two did not know each other, and I knew that Meriam hated to lose. So did Phillip. The match, though, would not go to whomever wanted the victory more, but most likely to that one who was lucky enough to choose the challenge.

The arrow landed on Meriam. After a slight grin on her part, she spoke. "I challenge you to a race on foot. No magic, no tricks, but pure, athletic running. The equivalent of three and a half miles, cross-country."

Three-point five miles. It was the approximation of every cross-country race at the High School level. I knew that Meriam's true self had gone quite far in that area, and I doubted that her current incarnation was any less athletic. Let me be blunt about this. Phillip was screwed.

The race began, after suitable terrain had been located. Everyone in the arena viewed the happenings on sort of a panoramic view, except that everyone got exactly the same view. It was fabulous, and I idly thought how much the film industry back home would kill for something like this.

They were dead even for the first half mile or so, I'd say. Then Phillip pulled ahead, while Meriam lagged behind. This trend continued for around a mile. Phillip began to lose speed. He wasn't used to distance running, and Meriam practically flew by him. He managed a good sprint at the end, which made his defeat more of an acknowledgement of greater skill rather than a total embarassment. The judges decided that Meriam deserved a good 9 for her effort, and Phillip a 4.

I felt bad when I entered the arena once more. Phillip was bound to be exhausted, and we had decided to duel to first blood. I pondered for a moment, wondering what would happen. The arrow spun and landed on Phillip, and when he looked at me, I could tell what he was thinking. I was supposed to win anyway, so what did it matter if he was exhausted? He opened his mouth to speak, and I sent Xorlempt to close off his windpipe for a moment so that he couldn't. The entire arena gasped at this action, and I saw Dumbledore and the judges stand immediately, but a simple raise of my hand quieted them all, and gave pause to those about to take action. I retrieved Xorlempt, then turned to face the judges.

"If it would be acceptable, I would like to call for an hour's break before our challenge. 'twould not be a victory I could take with pride, nor a defeat I could walk away from happy. The same situation applies to Phillip."

There was a chilling silence, such that I could hear the blood rapidly pumping through Phillip's circulatory system, even though we stood a good ten feet apart. I wondered who else in the arena could hear this. Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "Such a recess is quite a good idea, I'd say. One hour it is."

The arena crowd was allowed to treat it as an exceptionally long intermission, and I walked over to chat with Phillip. "You didn't have to do that, you know," were the first words to escape him, though he was still winded.

"Well, how else was I going to silence you? I needed a quick solution, and the vocal folds can produce no sound without air to make them vibrate..."

He shook his head. "That's not what I meant."

"I know."

He laughed. It was a happy laugh.

"I understand what you are saying, Phillip," I began, "But you must understand that, regardless of the situation, I am still honourbound by the code of a warrior. If I am to face you in equal combat, then you must be able to put forth your best effort, as I am. This cannot occur if you are fatigued. To take advantage of that would be to dishonour you, and to lower my level of skill to meet your weakened state would be as an insult to you. Calling a break for you to recover was the only way to keep my personal sense of honour intact."

There was a pause, and the wind was the only noise we heard. Even though I could not read his mind, I knew that he was using this silence to focus and meditate as I was. It would be a good duel.

The time was upon us. Had it not been for the duel that followed, my match with Vincent would have ended in my death. Phillip and myself took our respective positions once more, both now at maximum potential for that moment in time. His form was taller than mine in this world, and by a significant value. It would be good practice for if I got to challenge Vincent with steel.

"Duel with small swords to first blood," Phillip finally decided.

Small swords. I nodded at the significance. He was honouring me by choosing one of my favourite weapons, just as I honoured him by wishing to face him at his best. My salute was especially significant, as was his, and when we stepped to guard, it no longer was a duel for us. It was a dance. It was play, albeit competitive play.

Our first movements were simple changes of engagement, some basic footwork, a passe here or there. I decided upon the initial attack, one from seconde, which he easily parried on the lunge with septiem. He attempted a riposte in that line, to which I responded with counter-seconde, remaining in my lunge, then riposting. His response was counter-septiem, with a riposte by detachment in tierce, attacking my inside high line. I parried quarte as opposed to making a continuation of my riposte, though I had to make it a ceeding parry. I remained in my lunge and made my riposte a glide in septiem. A parry in seconde on his part was more than sufficient, and he made an expulsion upward followed by a thrust in quarte. I was forced back out of my lunge to give me time to recover, and when he lunged, I parried in prieme. I expelled from prieme into tierce, violently, such that Phillip's blade almost left his hand. My thrust in tierce did not encounter him, as he recovered from his lunge. I stood my ground, retracting my thrust.

We moved about the arena in a line, occassionally having phrases such as that. It was when I began to employ circular footwork that the match became even more one-sided. Still, I refused to hit lethal targets, and he was quite good when he realized that he needed only defend his arms and legs. Even in those areas, I had to avoid certain zones, such as the femoral artery.

A quick beat quarte lunge almost got him, but he parried on a passe back, which gave him enough distance. I could have redoubled, but the timing was all wrong. He had control before I could redouble, and I would most likely eat steel if I did so. Instead, I circled toward him and in. I gave him an invitation, broad as can be. I put my blade in a low octave, such that my point was facing the ground. I expected him to attack, and he expected me to parry and riposte, and so on and so forth. His attack came in tierce.

I dodged to the right, stepped in, and used my left arm to bind his right. I gazed right into his eyes and grinned, then took high seconde and gave his shoulder a light prick. It was barely a scratch, but enough to draw blood, and the duel ended. The crowd applauded, and I promptly disengaged, and saluted with Phillip. We stepped toward each other and shook hands, then clasped arms. We understood, and no one else there did. We had shared probably thiry minutes of the most beautiful, artistic, and visceral experience. It was glorious. For the number crunchers, the judges gave me a 9 and Phillip a 6.

And the moment came. Vincent took the floor, bowed to me, which I though highly to his credit, and then looked to the judges. "I believe another break is in order."

'Well met,' I remember thinking. Through giving me a break, he made sure that I didn't look like a better, kinder person than him. Grace was a factor, after all. It was a half hour, which was more than enough, and another silence crept over the arena. I admit to being nervous. This was the only match that I had no knowledge of. The ball was not in my court, and I was not in control. I felt a little vulnerable, but I buried that, and focused. I needed to be serene, no matter what the challenge was.

The arrow spun, and I was tense for that moment. Every fiber in my being hoped that I would get the choice.

The arrow landed on him. The looked up, and our eyes met. There was no connection. "All out duel. No holds barred. First to forfeit loses."

They couldn't in their right minds allow that. Could they?