(TPOR) Chapter 129: Rockswell (Patreon)

Zed sat quietly on a seat. It was comfortable enough. Nothing was expected of it other than the purpose of having another person rest their butts on it. It had no arm rests, merely a back rest with no padding. He had stepped out of the training room a few minutes ago. Exchanging places with him was Oliver, who currently stood at the centre of the training room. On the other side, separated by nothing but a wide glass Oliver stretched casually, preparing himself for the spar he was about to engage in.

Zed was not alone in the room he currently sat in. Festus, the mage who had dedicated most of the past few months to teaching him runes and how they were used stood right in front of the glass. Something told Zed that the old mage wasn’t really interested in whatever Oliver and his sparring partner were going to get into. Beside Festus stood Daniel. From everything Zed had gotten, the Olympian was the new captain of the Olympian team after the loss of their first captain. Zed wondered if the position was interim or permanent. Maybe they have a defined hierarchy incase of these things, he thought.

The room they sat in was dimly lit by florescent ceilings. It was the best way Zed could describe it. Above them there were squared sections of the ceilings that cast soft, almost nonexistent white lights. They left the room bright enough to see within but not so bright that everything was clear to the naked eye. Zed had no problem with this. [Hypersensitivity] allowed him see too many things even in the dark. The light was the least of his worries.

Two rows in front of him, Ash and Chris sat quietly. Both ladies were seated, leaning forward with their hands propped up by their laps. Oliver had their full attention. While the others, Ronda, Kid, and a pretty blonde girl he did not know sat casually in the room.

Beside Zed, Kid was staring.

“Not to be a bother,” Kid said. “But why here?”

“Seat’s comfy,” Zed answered easily.

“All the seats are the same,” Kid replied in a low voice.

Zed took his cue from Kid.

“I doubt,” he whispered. He pointed at the chair beside Chris. “You see that seat over there?”

Kid nodded.

“It’s got bad karma,” Zed told him.

“Bad karma?” Kid asked with a touch of confusion.

Zed nodded. “Bad karma. Voodoo. Chakra. Vishra. Anyone you’d like to call it.”

“I can’t say I follow.”

“Understandable. The other one,” Zed gestured at the seat beside Ash. ‘That one…”

Zed paused.

“What about it?” Kid asked.

“No idea.”

Zed leaned forward so he could look past Kid. He caught the eye of the girl whose name he didn’t know. He gave her a friendly smile before returning his attention to the glass in front of them. On the other side, Oliver squared up against an Olympian Zed did not recognize. The man had dark hair, trimmed down to a buzz cut. He had what Zed would describe as a squared face and an empty expression. He was well built for his height with chests the size of barrels that were covered in a green vest. In front of Oliver, he stood in a boxer’s stance.

“So, what’s the deal with that guy?” Zed asked Kid without shifting his attention from the man.

“Zogarth?” Kid asked.

Zed’s head snapped to him in shock.

“Zogarth?” he asked. “That’s Zogarth?”

Kid nodded and his lips twitched.

“That’s a weird name. So what does Zogarth do?”

Kid paused. “That’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just found out a guy’s name is Zogarth and you’ve got nothing.”

Zed shrugged. “I make it a rule not to judge a person by their name. Besides, I’ve got a weird name, too.”

“Zed’s not that weird,” Kid said. “Nyborn’s a bit odd, but not that odd.”

Zed barked a short amused laugh. “Zed’s just an abbreviation of a weird name.”

“What’s the full name?”

Zed pressed a finger to his lips in a hushing gesture. “Trade secret.”

Kid’s response was a shake of his head. Beside him, the girl that was not Ronda chuckled easily.

In the training room, Oliver and Zogarth looked more than ready to fight. Zogarth threw a few practice punches. Each one was a light jab, but there was something about the way he threw them. The punches were smooth. They were not fast but they were not slow. If there was a word to describe them, Zed would go with the word optimal. On the other side of the room Oliver continued to stretch.

“Who’s your money on?” the unknown lady asked.

A small silence followed within which Zed continued to stare ahead. There was a slight tension within him and his left foot tapped away on the ground beneath it. It left a minute pattering sound that he was scarcely aware of.

Kid bumped Zed’s knee with his knee. It was a simple gesture designed to draw his attention. It worked.

“What’s up?” Zed asked without turning.

“Jen was asking—”

“Put it on Contra over there.”

“What?”

“Big guy with a tank top,” Zed explained, then turned to Kid. “You didn’t play Contra as a kid? You know what, never mind.”

“What does Contra have to do with any—”

“Well my money’s on Contra,” Zed interjected.

“Isn’t the other guy your friend?” the lady asked.

Zed looked past Kid to meet her gaze. He leaned towards her and offered her his hand.

“Hi,” he greeted as she took it in a handshake. “The name’s Rockswell. Jamie Rockswell.”

The lady smiled. “Jennifer. Jennifer Rockswell.”

Zed paused. “I knew I was married but I didn’t think I’d find you here, love. Where are the kids?”

“I left them behind,” Jennifer answered easily. “Davonte’s taking care of them.”

Zed cocked a quizzical brow at her. “Devonte?”

“The babysitter,” Jennifer explained.

Between them, Ronda and Kid stared in confusion.

“I know who Devonte is,” Zed said with faux irritation. “What I want to know is why Devonte’s playing babysitter. I thought we agreed that we don’t want all that testosterone around our kids so early. Especially Trudy. She’s thirteen and you know how thirteen year olds get when you put them around all that.”

“No,” Jennifer replied, matching his irritation. “You decided that you don’t want Devonte baby sitting. But I think he’s a good influence on the kids. Trudy has never felt so feminine and—”

“He just wants to sleep with you,” Zed scowled.

Jennifer reeled back as if she’d been physically struck. “I’ll have you know that I’m a powerful Rukh rank mage and I can take good care of myself.”

“Is that why you won’t let me touch you?” Zed asked. “It’s been five years, Boulder cush. Five years since I’ve felt your iron hands around my—”

“Whoa! Whoa!” Ronda exclaimed. “I think we get the gist. Please stop.”

Kid looked at her, confused. “You get the gist? How did you get the gist? I had no idea what was going on. And who the hell is Devonte?”

“Gardner turned Babysitter,” Zed answered casually. “But he’s just trying to get in my wife’s—”

“That’s enough fooling around.”

Festus didn’t raise his voice but it carried from where he stood. It filled the room with a silent authority, one Zed had always known the man had. Festus didn’t look back but Zed had the feeling he was the only one being addressed.

Because you were the one fooling around, he thought.

“You said you’ll be going up next,” Festus continued. “I thought you probably had a solution to your aura’s current state and wanted to fix that. I guess not.”

Zed turned to Kid. “What’s wrong with my aura?”

Kid shrugged then turned his attention to the training ground. “Ask your wife.”

Zed looked to Jennifer and she smiled.

…………………………………

The training room was just the right temperature. It was not too cold and it was not too hot. It properly defined the term room temperature. Regardless, Oliver stood uncomfortably in it. In front of him, his sparring partner threw jab after jab. There was nothing special about each jab except one thing. Oliver had learned long ago, ever since the second awakening, that to survive in a fight against a monster, he had to know how much it was capable of as quickly as he could. If he could not put it down immediately, then he would need this knowledge to ensure it does not put him down. This required that he learned how fast it was and how strong it was. If he could not learn it exactly, then he needed to learn to guage it.

Oliver could not gauge the speed of his opponent’s jabs.

“Ready?” Daniel’s asked, his military baritone, cool and void of emotion filled the room.

“Ready,” Oliver’s opponent answered, throwing a right hook with sluggish mastery.

“Ready,” Oliver answered, pulling mana from his core, connecting to force mana, gravity to be precise. He would start of with something from his specialization, then disorient his opponent with something entirely different. Aura tactics might be pointless, considering the mage was of the same rank and category as him.

Then again, perhaps there was a way it could work. If he was to believe Ash, when Zed had fought against Abed, he had used an aura skill that had been powerful enough to floor her and stun Abed who had been an entire rank above him.

Oliver’s mind continued running through possible strategies when Daniel’s voice triggered him into action.

“Fight!”

Oliver called up gravity balls the size of his fist immediately. Each one hovered beside him, purple orbs of power designed for opposing functions. He was about to send them flying when the mage in front of him did the most confusing thing he had ever seen.

The mage raised a quick hand and cast a quick rune. Oliver caught a glimpse of it and had a feeling his opponent would be a problem.

He’d never faced off against a mage capable of casting intermediary rank runes. His mind pulled him back to a piece of advice Festus had given him once.

If you ever meet a mage that can cast an intermediary rune, run.