(TLO) Chapter 118: Go Hide Most of Your Skills (Patreon)

Seth cocked a brow at Jim.

“Oden?” he asked.

Jim smiled innocently. “We very well can’t have them know you as Seth, can we?”

“Then why not change the entire name; give me a befitting alias.”

“You have nothing befitting, Oden,” Jim teased. “Now go hide most of your skills.”

Seth rose with a sigh. He was Oden now, ironic as it seemed, considering it was the name he’d given when he’d first arrived. For a moment his mind wandered to Angela and he wondered what the lady was doing. It wasn’t long before his minds brought him back to the present.

We’re using the new swords, right? one asked, enthusiastic. We want to use the new swords.

It’s too heavy, though, another mind answered.

So was the tachi, it objected.

And Dainik and Varmin. A thoughtful pause followed this mind before it thought again. Come to think of it, Jabari only gives us weapons with one problem or the other. Are we sure this one’s problem is only its heaviness? Are we sure it has nothing to do with purity of reia and all that?

Seth ignored them as he walked down the amphitheater. There were eyes on him, but none of them regarded him with any more interest than they had the examinees before him. The Gold mage at the center of the theater stood as still as any mountain, watching him, however, with a speculative eye.

When he reached the arena, the gold mage gave him a short nod.

“You were late,” he said. “I saw you come in midway through the test.”

“Yes.” Seth closed the two more steps required to stand where the previous contestants had stood.

The examiner nodded sagely. “Also a bit rude. Sadly, all you House children are.”

Seth cocked a quizzical brow. “House children?”

“You are being sponsored by a House, are you not?”

Seth’s brows furrowed as his mind went to Jim. So they actually did refer to themselves as Houses. It was a literal title.

“I am,” he answered, unsure of what it had to do with anything.

“Houses exist to curtail the need to vet every applicant,” the man explained, “every wannabe adventurer coming here to waste our time. Houses bring us those worthy of becoming adventurers without the process of the wasteful task of vetting them. Like the boy just taken away.”

Seth listened as the gold mage spoke. Listened as he said things he had no interest in. Through it all, his minds watched and catalogued and assessed.

Their conclusion came not long after. This is going to be a hard one.

Two dots of supremacy say we don’t need more than [Quick Step] for this one, one mind wagered.

We’ll take that bet, another agreed almost immediately.

“What’s a dot of supremacy?” Seth asked in a whisper. “Are you creating currencies in my head?”

Nothing to worry about, his mind assured him. Just good fun is all.

Seth found himself not trusting his mind. Not that it was a first. At this point he had accepted them as voices that would never go away. Trust was secondary.

“…Are you even listening?” the Gold mage asked.

He wasn’t. But rather than answer, he dived into his memory, the action quick as a diving peregrine. He found what he needed, calling forth memories he did not remember living. It came to him in an instant, too fast and easy to be truly safe.

When he was done assimilating all of it, he nodded to the gold mage. “I’ll be in your care, Taliser.”

Apparently, the gold mage was named Taliser by his introduction mere moments ago in a time where his minds had distracted him with their bickering. An odd name for a man of his generation. Watching him, Seth concluded if the man had not been born before the first crack, then he had been born mere months, perhaps the briefest years after it. Such a fantastical name was not common amongst those born during that era.

It was easy to tell the era someone was born in by what type of names they answered. According to Jonathan, those born to parents who’d been adults before the first crack answered simpler names. The names of the children of the house of Darnesh were good examples. Jonathan, Derek, Jeremiah, Seth. Those who were born to parents who made adulthood after the first crack, however, answered names that seemed more fantastical. Names with no true meaning in the history of the languages they spoke.

“One more thing,” Taliser added with a mild frown. “Your House requested that we raise the difficulty level for you. I hope that will not be a problem.”

Seth nodded, already tired of having to deal with the situations he was always finding himself.

If Jim had requested the difficulty be raised, then it meant the seminary had requested it. If the seminary had requested it, then it meant Jabari had requested it. The man certainly had no intentions of making him live an easy life.

In all fairness, one of his minds opined. He did call us the struggling one.

And never bothered to explain what it meant.

“Because we never asked,” Seth sighed. To Taliser, he answered: “Not a problem.”

He reached behind him with his right hand and took one of the twin blades by the hilt and drew it free. The blade found freedom with a quiet hiss that promised nothing. Gravity acted on its weight, pulling it further down so that it almost left his grip. Nevertheless, his hold was firm and he held the weapon beside him, unperturbed.

His minds doubled their assessment of Taliser even as he stood, seeking openings where they knew there was none. Even in his carefree stance, his unarmed form, Taliser was guarded. He looked too comfortable in his shirt of dirt brown and jeans of faded blue. To him, Seth was no more a threat than the breeze that tussled his shirt.

Seth did not doubt the man’s power; neither did his minds. However, he had sparred with Barons for too long; for more than two years. He wasn’t arrogant enough to believe it meant he could stand against a mage of gold authority but it irked him to have a gold mage look down on him.

Still, his minds found nothing; no way by which he could stand a chance at victory.

“The crowd is waiting,” Taliser said. “The others did not take this long to attack.”

Seth shrugged at the obvious goading. “The others did not have my powerful sense of cowardice.”

Taliser made an odd face of disagreement. “A coward,” he said. “You don’t strike me as one. At least the look on your face does not.”

Seth wondered what exactly his face looked like in this moment.

Probably frowning. You frown a lot, has anyone ever told you that?

The world around them was already growing silent. Seth wasn’t sure if it was the anticipation drowning the murmurs in the crowd into silence or if his focus was drowning them out, sapping away unnecessary information. Whichever it was, he was glad for it. He could do without the noise.

“If you will not come,” Taliser said. “Then I will.”

In the blink of an eye, Taliser was gone from where he stood. Seth raised his shortsword as he vanished and his minds screamed warnings at him. He brought his sword up on his side, his senses buttressing the worries of his minds, and steeled himself.

Taliser appeared beside him, carried with a speed he had not expected, and struck with a closed fist. Seth took the blow on the flat of his blade and the sheer power of it forced him off to the side.

Despite his momentary preparedness, the force took him by surprise and he slid over ten feet. His feet scraped along the sand, friction slowing his speed as he skidded to a halt amidst a cloud of dust. His hand throbbed quietly but for some reason his minds worried for the life expectancy of his shoe.

“We’re worrying about the wrong thing!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

But shoes are expensive, one of his minds thought.

They are? Another asked, flabbergasted. They’re basic necessities; they shouldn’t be expensive.

“Again,” Seth hissed, annoyance bubbling from inside him. “Worrying about the wrong thing.”

Before him, where he had stood moments ago, Taliser shook out his hand. “What’s that thing made of?” he asked. In his voice was genuine curiosity mixed with surprise. “And who are you even talking to?”