M45

Morgan woke the following day with the gray light of dawn coming through the bay windows of his room. He used the washbasin next to the wardrobe to splash water on his face, banishing the grogginess of his hangover. Morgan hadn’t slept well; he’d had a lot of wine with dinner and then too much of that brandy that Roald had served out. He dressed in some of his new pants and the sturdy black shirt he’d bought. He kept his armor stowed in his ring, though. Sure, he’d been challenged to a duel, but it wasn’t until tomorrow, at dawn no less. It seemed like a dream, partly because he’d been drunk, but also because of the strangeness of it all. The idea that Swent had been lurking in the shadows waiting for him to pass by so he could challenge him to a duel over some perceived sleight of his honor just baffled Morgan.

Olivia had read the challenge and said she’d explain it in the morning, but, in short, it was about Issa. Apparently, Swent felt like Morgan had stolen her from him. The whole thing was irritating to Morgan. He was irritated, most of all, that he had never heard of Swent, not from Issa, not from her father, not from anyone. Morgan tied his pouch to his belt, looked around the room to see that he hadn’t left anything behind and then walked down to the common room. There wasn’t any sign of Olivia, and he figured he could meet her later. “Mrs. Hane, do you mind letting Olivia know that I’ve gone out to run some errands, and I’ll look for her here around noon?”

“Of course, dear. No breakfast for you?” Mrs. Hane was wiping down a table. Most of the tables were unoccupied at this early hour, but a few people were sitting around eating eggs and sausages, drinking from steaming mugs. It looked good, and Morgan’s stomach rumbled.

“I wish I could, but I’m meeting someone soon. Maybe we’ll come back this way to eat.” He waved and stepped out into the cool morning air. The streets were quiet, only a few early risers out and about. Morgan walked briskly to Issa’s father’s shop. When he arrived, he was pleased to see the light in the window and smoke coming from the little stack above his wood stove. Morgan pulled the door and entered with the jangling of the bell. Roald was sitting in front of his stove, reading a thin book with illustrations of birds.

“Morgan! Good morning, lad. I hope you slept alright,” he said, closing his book and standing. “Issa will be along soon; she wasn’t feeling great this morning. I must admit that I teased her quite a lot. Imagine, she’s already improved her race twice and still can’t hold her liquor as well as I can with no improvements!”

“You probably have me beat, too,” Morgan replied, smiling wanly.

“Hah, well, when she comes, you two should get a hearty breakfast; that’ll set you straight. Now, let me see this sword my friend Brint has sold you.” He walked over to Morgan and waited while Morgan summoned the sword from his storage ring. The smith had sold it to him in a nicely tooled leather sheath with brass-colored metal chape, locket, and suspension rings. He’d told Morgan he could wear it from a belt or on his back, but Morgan found it just as easy and convenient to keep it in his ring. Morgan pulled the sheath off and extended the handle to Roald. “Ahh, now that’s a beauty,” he said, taking the sword and setting the point on the ground. He squatted to run his fingers along the flat of the blade.

“Can you do much with it, you think? I hate to put a deadline on things, but I’ll probably need it tomorrow by dawn. It seems I have a duel.” Morgan’s voice was flat, he wasn’t trying to sound irritated, but he felt like someone should have mentioned Swent yesterday.

“What’s this now? Who’d you get mixed up with?” He squinted up at Morgan.

“Oh, some fellow named Swent or Swint issued a challenge last night on my way home from your house.” Morgan studied Roald’s face as he spoke, looking for a reaction, and he wasn’t disappointed. Roald’s dark-blue skin turned purple, and he said several words that Morgan didn’t quite catch.

“That grott-loving fool!” He stomped around his shop, stopping by the counter to grab a heavy book and fling it against the wall. Pages flapped, and documents he’d had stuffed in the binding fluttered around. “I’m sorry, Morgan. That fool had been courting Issa long before she went to the Crucible, but nothing was ever promised.”

“Well, Olivia has the challenge, and I don’t know the details, but do I have to fight him?” Roald looked at Morgan sharply, but his scowl softened, and he spoke:

“I almost forgot how new you are to our culture. No, you don’t have to fight him; you can back out. You’ll lose credibility in this town if you do, as will my family. He believes he has a grievance. Law allows for a duel between peers if there is a perceived slight, regardless of the validity. You have a class and haven’t had a refinement, same as Swent, so in the law’s eyes, he is your peer.” He blew out an exasperated breath, puffing his cheeks, and, just as he was about to continue, the bell rang, and Issa came into the shop.

“Hi!” She was all smiles and hurried over to hug Morgan. He hugged her back, but when she looked at her father and noted the silence, she said, “What’s the matter?”

“Swent challenged Morgan to a duel last night.” Roald bent to pick up Morgan’s sword, which he’d let fall in his tirade.

“What? That idiot!” She pulled away from Morgan and looked at him with a concerned face. “I did not promise myself to him, Morgan! I’ll settle this, though. I’ll challenge him to a duel!”

“You can’t cancel a duel with another duel, Issa. The law is explicit. Besides, you’re only level ten and have barely just gotten your class. Swent’s made a name for himself dueling, and isn’t he on the doorstep to level twenty?” Issa growled and kicked over her father’s wooden stool.

“He’s such a self-important twit! I’m sorry, Morgan. One of the reasons I insisted on going into the Crucible was to get away from his attentions. His family has had a seat on the council for generations, and the Governor listens to them far too much. Oh, what a sneaky rat to call you out when I wasn’t around!”

“So it will be hard on you and your dad if I don’t fight him?” Morgan already knew the answer, but he thought he should sound things out completely.

“Yes, we’ll lose face, to the point that if I wanted to stay with you, I’d need to leave. My father could probably stay, but his business would suffer. Honor is important to Ardeni, to the point that it’s become less of a boon and more of a crutch.”

“Hush, Issa; don’t talk that way,” her father admonished.

“Well, I’m not going to let us all be driven out of town by some prick. If he wants to fight, so be it.” Morgan shrugged.

“Morgan, he has a fairly unique class for our people; he’s a Skirmisher, and he’s spent his youth perfecting his combat skills.” Issa walked up to him and grabbed his arm above the elbow, looking earnestly into his eyes when she spoke.

“Alright, well, is the fight to the death?”

“A combatant can yield, asking for mercy, but their opponent need not be merciful.” Roald shook his head, looking down with a deep frown. “Swent is bitter. He knows Issa won’t match him, especially now that she has her class. He’s doing this to punish her and embarrass me. I wouldn’t count on his mercy.”

“Huh. Can I use all my skills? Or is this just about weapon skills?”

“No, you can use any skills or spells that you have.” Issa nodded knowingly at Morgan while she spoke. “You can do this, Morgan.”

“So, you think you can be done with the sword before dawn?” Morgan did his best to smile gamely.

“Oh, yes. I have something I’ve been saving. I can’t see how I could go wrong using it on the weapon of a man willing to put his life on the line for my family’s honor. You aren’t too partial to this agate on the pommel, are you?”

“It looks nice, but no, it’s nothing special to me,” Morgan replied, looking at the yellow and brown striped stone buried in the metal of the pommel.

“I have a gem I’ve spent the last few years working on, off and on, as a pet project. I began it when I received my class refinement at level twenty. I’ll replace that agate with it. It’s a bit larger, and it isn’t as heavy as the metal I’ll have to cut away, which will disturb the balance of the sword. Don’t worry, though; I know a simple enchantment I can put on the tang to increase the weight proportionate to what we’re losing. It will still be perfect. I need to get to work; you kids go and get some food.” With that, he picked up the sword and walked through the archway to his workshop in the back.

“Hey, let’s go back to my inn and eat. Mrs. Hane was putting on quite a spread!” Morgan smiled and draped an arm around Issa’s shoulders, leading her out the door.

“Aren’t you worried?” she asked, her yellow brows drawn into a scowl.

“Nah. Come on; we’ve been through worse.”

“I’m so sorry to cause you this trouble, Morgan.” Issa tugged out of his arm and turned toward him as they walked, “I’m sure you have a million things to worry about, and now this. I really won’t hate you if you and Olivia want just to leave town tonight.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You better be kidding! I won the galactic lottery by finding you in the first place; I’m not going to let some asshole scare me off. Not to mention, our people need this alliance. Come on, let’s not talk about it anymore.” With that, he put his arm back over her shoulders, and she grabbed him around the waist, and they made their way back to the inn.

Morgan was surprised to see Olivia already up and sitting at a table with a heaping plate of scrambled eggs and four pieces of buttery toast. She was sipping on a big mug of steaming tea which she set down to wave them over. The room was crowded but not full, and Olivia’s table was unoccupied save for her. “Good morning,” she brightly said when they walked over.

“Good morning to you!” Issa replied, sitting down across from Olivia. Morgan smiled and sat next to Issa. He’d only just scooted his chair in when a young Ardeni girl, maybe only ten or twelve years old, stepped up to the table.

“Do you two want some breakfast?” She had her green hair pulled into a topknot and wore a dirty apron. Her eyebrow was quirked in a way to suggest she was willing to wait for an answer, but only for a few seconds. Morgan couldn’t help smiling at her.

“Well, of course. I’ll have what my friend there is having. How about you, Issa?”

“You know I’m hungry!” Issa nodded to the girl, and she left.

“I guess menus aren’t a thing here. When I said I wanted breakfast, Mrs. Hane just had her daughter bring me this plate.” Olivia shrugged. “It’s perfect, though!” She shoved another big forkful of eggs into her mouth. Issa laughed and reached toward her plate.

“Could I have a piece of your toast? I’ll pay you back when mine comes.” Olivia nodded, her mouth still full.

Morgan watched Issa eat her toast and Olivia shovel in her eggs, and he sat back feeling strangely content. Sure, he had a duel, possibly to the death, waiting for him in the morning, but things were going well, all told. It seemed improbable that he was here with Issa, sitting in a crowded inn, eating breakfast with friends around. While still fresh in his mind, The Crucible also seemed to be a million miles and years away. He knew he should be a bit more worried about Swent - apparently, he was something of a professional duelist, and he had four levels on Morgan. Still, Morgan had an advanced class himself, and he had some titles that also gave him strength. He didn’t know how big a deal his Human Champion title was, but it seemed to him that his Energy-based abilities having a fifty percent boost in efficacy wasn’t something to sneeze at.

Their food came, and everyone got quiet for a few minutes as they all got to work, eating with gusto. After a few minutes, though, Olivia spoke up, “Hey, I’m assuming you guys aren’t mentioning it for a reason, but are we good with the whole duel thing happening tomorrow morning?”

“Yeah,” Morgan said, looking up from his plate, “we kinda don’t have a choice. If we want to have a successful alliance with these people, fleeing from a challenge to my honor would make a bad precedent.”

“Mmhm, when I read the challenge, I noticed some legal phrasing, and it seemed like Swent might have some legal or customary backing.”

“Technically, he does,” Issa interjected, “but it was cowardly to ambush you in the middle of the night and make the challenge before anyone could object or at least call him out for his foolishness. Now it’s been served and accepted; even if I make a fuss, it will look bad if anyone were to intervene. Though, I swear, Morgan, if he kills you, I will kill him or die. He’s made a terrible mistake with this duel.” Issa’s face had become solemn, and Morgan couldn’t help trying to dispel the mood.

“There’s some egg on your chin,” he laughed, reaching out a hand as though to wipe it away. She hissed and slapped his hand, wiping her face with a napkin.

“No, there wasn’t!” Olivia said, a big smile making her eyes crinkle up at the corners. Issa put some egg on her fork, holding it threateningly as if she’d throw it at Morgan.

“Relax, I’m sorry, but I don’t want to talk about the duel anymore. It is what it is.” Morgan sighed and sipped at his tea. It almost reminded him of coffee, but it was just a bit too watery.

“Well, I have some other news we could talk about!” Olivia said, reaching toward her satchel and producing a polished wooden box like one might keep a ring or watch in. She opened it, revealing a silver coin with a book stamped on it. “The Magister at the mage’s guild here in town gave me this. It’s a teleportation token - he said it would take me to an academy where I can learn more about magic.” She snapped the lid closed.

“What? That sounds awesome!” Morgan said.

“Really? I’ve never heard anyone from the town going to such a place,” Issa added.

“Well, he seemed to be impressed with my Core and the way I can manipulate different Energy affinities at once. He said he’d been holding this token for decades. The thing is, the school starts in a couple of weeks. Also, I can’t take a class or get to level ten before I go.” Olivia sniffed, pulling her straight black hair back over her shoulders. Morgan could see she had a lot on her mind, and he supposed it was a big decision.

“Any idea how far away the school is? Or how long it will last?”

“Magister Karn said it was on a peninsula a thousand miles away. He said it could last months, years, or decades, depending on my pursuits and success. I don’t know how any of it works - will I be able to visit between terms? Will I be able to communicate with the colony at all? I feel excited about the idea of a school to learn more about magic, but I also dread leaving you, Bronwyn, the colony in the lurch.”

“Well, you have two weeks,” Issa said. “I’d take some time to really think about it. We’ll make it back to your settlement by then, and you can talk to your other friends too.” Olivia smiled and nodded at Issa, but Morgan could see the stormcloud behind her eyes. He decided, once again, to change the subject.

“Hey, we’ve got a full day with nothing to do; what’s fun around here, Issa?”