Entry 2: Prep and Traditions

 Entry 2-

This morning I began preparing for my upcoming duel. Rodrick left a note and it set the time at just past mid-day. I would be ready well before then, so maybe I can make it a pre-lunch kind of thing. At dawn I met both Ithella and Racha inside the town’s long house. The meeting place of the mystics, who double as leaders for the community. When I got there, the heads of the houses of the town, some young, some old lined the hall. I walked up the middle, all their eyes on me.

“Due to ancient tradition set down by the law-makers of Steadfast, I have come to receive the rules for my Duel today. I must make preparations based on this information!”

Gathering the necessary information, though my teachings have taught me the maneuvers for the town, was important to show poise for the village of Steadfast. It also reaffirmed my position for this Duel. Rodrick’s son was likely preparing in the same way. Ithella stood from her chair. Her whispy hair falling down to her shoulders. It looked grey as the morning sun hit it.

Her voice filled the hall. “Wild Son. You’ve come for information. Ancient tradition dictates that you must enter the circle unclothed, marked with mud from the swamps, and dressed in the ancient robes of the mystic, carrying your trusted training staff with you. Upon completion of this tradition, you’ll come out on your strength alone. No iron may enter a dueling circle carried or wielded by a Steadfaster. We honor outsiders by meeting them as ourselves.”

I lowered my head and bowed. I looked up as Racha stood up from her chair. She added in her softer voice. “Your Trial of Strength begins now. Make your preparations. Feel the magic of the land carry you forward. The back room has been prepared for you.”

A cloth covered doorway blew in a cross breeze. I stand and walk towards the room. I hear Ithella say, “Okay everyone! Prepare yourselves for the duel. Our new mystic is being born and this is a rare opportunity!”

I felt Racha’s hand on my shoulder as we walked into the back room. She was trembling a little as she walked. Age had its claws on her and she would retire from this world soon but she had magic to pass on before she left. I lead her into the room. A large room, with a prepared swamp meal in the middle table for my breakfast. I sat down in one of the swampwood chairs and began eating it. It was a prawn salad on a lettuce bed. A delicacy, also a gift from Rodrick because they had Lettuce for us to buy. 

Racha joined me on the ground and looked at me. I smiled at her and set the plate down. The room outside was noisy with people leaving to prepare their families for my duel. The ceremonial robes were on a bench, folded next to a jar of the swamp mud, which was next to a bucket of warm water.

“Racha,” I began, “what do you know about the ways of these Northerners?”

“Like our mystic initiation. They have to go through trials to become men in their circles. It seems Rodrick has chosen you as a challenge for his son and hopes that a swamp mystic will garner enough reputation for his son to reach manhood. But, there will always be a battle for them to become better. You won’t have another chance for your Trial of Strength so make it count! The fates are watching you closely now.”

She got up, her bones popping and walked over to the water. She pulled out some herbs and sprinkled it into the warm bucket. A minty aroma hit my nose and I finished my Prawn Salad. I joined Racha next to the bucket.

“Get naked.” She demanded.

I looked at her, “Racha, you’ve not seen me naked in like ten years…”

“More like 5. Remember when you and the young Tahir were swimming in the swamp, naked, and leeches took a liking to you?”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks and quickly turned away, “He dared me. I knew swimming in the swamps was a bad idea, especially in late summer but he insisted I was being a coward and wouldn’t be able to ‘bare it all’” I made air quotes around the last phrase and parried the conversation. “Do you know anything about Rodrick’s son that may help me?”

“Yes. But get naked. Then I’ll tell you.”

I begin to strip. I notice my ribs as I unlace my pants. My abs are well formed but nothing to intimidate. I am not strong, nor will I have the weight to win in a hand to hand. I do have training with the staff, I’ve been using it since I was a child. It was always my favorite weapon, feeling like a longer extension of myself. I’ll just have to be smart to win against this guy.

Racha began speaking, “The people of the north. Learn to wield daggers. You’ll have the length on him. He’s been training with the daggers behind his merchant cart. He’s bigger and stronger than you, due to their mainly boar diet, or goat, we’re not exactly sure. But this is all simple observations that you can make yourself. What will really give you the advantage.”

She paused for a second as my pants fell to my ankles and I picked them and my shirt up and put them on the bench next to the robes. She stood behind me. With her hand, now steady, she ran a line down my back with the mud, stopping at my lower back. I felt it dry and crack along my back as we waited in silence.

“Ithella and I divined that he has a weakness. His pride will always guide his knife, but he overcompensates, he has a childhood injury that burdens his left foot. He feels it’s pain but ignores it or defends it. If you can strike down on that foot, he will crumple. We can heal any injury you cause him, so it’s a sure-fire way to gain an advantage in the fight but don’t hit it early on, or else he’ll play the defensive game and get too close for you to be able to do anything with your staff.”

I smiled, “Thank you Mother. I appreciate the help.”

“The fates look after you, but magic whispers your path to you! Now, lets finish this silly tradition so you can get out there and bring honor to our Steadfast.”

The mud was set on my skin in a pattern only Mother Racha could create. A simple alligator like design snaked its way up my chest with lines and circles tracing themselves all along my limbs connected to my spine. It felt like our entire understanding of magic in the land. Nebulous and hard to grasp. It wouldn’t give me an edge in the fight, in fact showing it off would inhibit me but I knew it was the right thing to do. No one would mess with Steadfast if I won here.

After the mud was painted, we sat around for a bit, chatting. Racha regaled me with legends of ancient warriors going to battle clad entirely in iron armor atop iron armored horses. Legends full of fantastical people who build impossible machines out of the stuff, like it was a common resource, easily mined and distributed. Such flights of fancy were great but they didn’t have magic in them, they all had human perseverance. I felt emboldened by these feats and was prepared. With the mud dry, my belly full, and the robes draped over me I was nearly ready.

I looked around as I asked, “where is my staff?”

Racha gave a toothless grin, “That old thing. Nah. Ithella prepared you a better one for the beginning of your initiation.”

We walked out of the room and Ithella was holding a taller staff that was my height in her hand. She handed it over and I felt the cool dampness from the swamp. “Well, I’m happy to have one that is proper now.”

 Ithella said, “Honor your weapon and it’ll bring you honor. Don’t get cocky out there. Don’t think that a win will be easy. I’ve heard he is dangerous. Keep your wits about you and keep at a distance with your staff.”

She scrutinized the robes I wore. She looked at the markings on my face. Her eyes unchanging and unflinching as she noticed the alligator peeking out from under the robes on my chest. She took a breath and hugged me.

“Again, May the magicks guide you through this trial and may your strength burn bright.”

When I stepped out of the hut. The sun blurred my vision. I felt Ithella’s steady hand on my back and we walked as my eyes adjusted. The town square was lively with venders and food sellers. Households put on a festival for the foreigners and allowed for a day of rest and relaxation on this occasion. I stood in the swamp air, cloaked in the finest furs from the beasts of the north. I felt the hair prickle all along my body and the skins rub on my skin. Perspiration formed on my head as I saw the main attraction in the center of the plaza. A crude circle drawn in the dirt and a young man, about my age, with rust red hair, dazzling blue eyes, and a muscular build, standing in the center.

The young man brandished his daggers, he wore a crude leather outfit, and his hair was scraggly. He saw my approach and locked eyes with me. I noticed a small hesitation in his movements. I let my eyes fall away and took a steadying breath. Feeling muggy air fill my lungs, understanding that that breath was my center. Then letting it out as easily as it came in. Letting go of my worries.

The red haired adversary spoke, “I am Parkik son of Rodrick! I hereby challenge Tallyden the Apprentice to a duel, for manhood and honor!”

Racha scoffed and said, “So much poise…”

Ithella elbowed the older woman. “Shush mother. Don’t insult.”

I stepped forward. “I Tallyden the soon-mystic of Steadfast accept your challenge. As your humble host. I will fight by our traditions to prove their strength against the outside world! First, I derobe!”

I threw off the heavy furs. Hearing them land in the waiting hands of Ithella and Racha. I then look at Parkik and notice his eyes widen as he scans me. I hold my staff to my side as the crowd around me goes silent. The wind picks up, chilling my damp skin before the fight.

After a moment I continue, “As your host. I humbly concede the first move to you!”

That wasn’t usually apart of the tradition but to me it was the most tactful thing to do in a situation against a complete stranger. I took a step forward and Rodrick spoke, “Both enter the circle, one comes out a man! So it is, so it has been!”

I cross the circle and the duel began…

[To Be Continued…]