Ascendant

“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” Nym said. “You’re seriously going to do this again?”

Babkin blinked and looked down at him. “Nym? You have grown much in the last few months! What are you doing here?”

“I’m signing up to go out and fight undead for money. Please stay out of it.”

“By yourself? That is very dangerous.”

The hall had gone silent as Nym and Babkin argued. There were a lot of wide-eyed mercenaries shifting in their chair, perhaps on the verge of fleeing. The aura of tension that had taken over was palpable, but both of them ignored it. He glared up at the innkeeper, or rather the berserker, defiantly.

“Yes,” Babkin said, “I remember our last conversation. I would have thought you were enrolled in the Academy already.”

“Turns out it’s too expensive,” Nym said, his voice clipped. “So here I am.”

He turned back to the receptionist and gestured to the paperwork. “Please finish this up.”

Rather than do that, the receptionist turned to Babkin. “Is… is that okay?”

The berserker gave Nym an appraising look. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Process this for our young friend. Nym, please join me in the training arena. I would like to see how much you’ve grown.”

Babkin walked out through the door, and the entire hall let out its collective breath. “God’s breath, that was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” someone muttered. “I thought he was going to tear the whole place apart. Kid, you’re either the bravest person I’ve met or the stupidest.”

Nym threw a scowl at him, then swept out through the door after Babkin. He only noticed as he followed down the hall that Commander Seskrit’s assistant was scurrying after him. They arrived at the arena on Babkin’s heels. The berserker strode in and walked over to a series of training dummies set up against the wall.

“Please attack this dummy. Show me that you can hold your own against a ghoul.”

Annoyed, Nym snapped a lightning bolt construct into place. He wove it as fast as he ever had, and barely a second later, the entire building was shaking and the dummy was nothing more than a scorched and smoking wooden post while flaming clumps of straw rained down around it.

“Happy now?” Nym said.

“Damn,” the assistant whispered.

Rather than answer, the big man took some time to examine the destroyed dummy. “Powerful, but this spell is difficult to aim. Can you strike a moving target with it?”

“Are you volunteering?” Nym asked.

Babkin nodded. He started unbuckling straps on his side and removed the armor covering his chest. It thumped as it hit the ground, and his axe went on top of it. “Let’s see.”

“Are… are you sure?” Nym asked, taken aback. “This could kill you.”

The berserker just laughed. “You are not the only one who is able to use magic. Come. Let us test your true capabilities.”

The two of them took their places in a sand arena, twenty feet apart. Arcana started to flow around Babkin, forming a swirling aura, deep crimson streaked through with jagged lines of black. Nym had never seen an aura like that, or one that was as animated as Babkin’s. Suddenly, he felt a lot less confident in his abilities.

“Please announce the start of the match,” Babkin ordered Seskrit’s assistant.

“Er, right. Yes. Then… if everyone is ready? Three, two, one… go.”

Somehow, Babkin appeared in front of Nym without seeming to cross the intervening distance. Huge hands descended like striking snakes to grab the boy, and it was only pure reflex that got Nym out of the way. He didn’t even try to use his legs, knowing he’d never be as fast as Babkin. Instead, his flight spell kicked in and shot him backwards. Even at his fastest speed, he felt one of Babkin’s fingers hook his shirt.

Nym didn’t stop, and the cloth tore. He didn’t have time to process that though, since he slammed into the back wall of the arena at full speed. His head smacked against the stone and his vision started to turn to black. Before he could recover, Babkin was in front of him again. His hand closed around Nym’s throat and started squeezing.

He had seconds left before he blacked out, time enough for a single spell, maybe two quick ones. There wasn’t time for anything fancy. He reached out to the sand below their feet and caused it to explode upwards. It blinded both of them, but Babkin didn’t need to see to maintain his hold. He didn’t flinch back from the attack, just squeezed harder.

Nym started to put together a lightning bolt. He just… needed to… thread it…

With a gasp, he sat upright. He was back in the middle of the arena, with Babkin standing over him. “You’ve lost this match,” the lumbering giant told him. “Would you like to try again?”

Nym flew up into the air and flicked the sand off him with a bit of terrakinesis. This was ridiculous. He’d killed a hive queen by himself, but couldn’t last ten seconds against a human? Admittedly, the arena itself was working against Nym’s style, but he should have done better than that. He could do better than that. He would.

“Yes, rematch.”

The attendant counted down again, and this time Nym was ready for Babkin’s insane speed. He was already moving, back and up, when the berserker started. This time he saw the movement, and while Babkin was insanely fast, it wasn’t any sort of teleportation. It was just muscle enhanced by arcana. What that arcana was doing, Nym had no idea. He couldn’t penetrate the berserker’s roiling aura to see the spellwork underneath it.

If Nym thought he was safe just by flying over Babkin’s head, he soon found out he was wrong. The berserker looked up at him, eyes narrowed, and flung himself through the air. Nym reflexively tried to grab him with cushions of air to force him off-course like he’d done to the ghouls, but Babkin broke through them like they weren’t even there. Panicked, Nym dropped his own flight and fell to avoid being grabbed again.

He caught himself and skimmed across the sand to the far side of the arena, but Babkin was already coming at him again. Nym needed some way to keep some distance, but Babkin wasn’t letting him have it. He had no time to do anything but evade, and he wasn’t even doing that very well. The berserker’s speed and precision were unreal.

He was hesitant to unleash it, but Babkin had assured him he could take it, so Nym sped through the construct for a lightning bolt and let it loose. It struck Babkin head on, but the berserker barely stumbled. Arcs of electricity crawled across his aura and grounded themselves in the sand below without ever touching flesh, then the berserker was in front of him again.

“Oh da-” Nym said, eyes going wide.

Babkin didn’t grab him this time. Instead, his hand curled into a fist and cracked into Nym’s face, sending the boy into a literal spin down to the sand. Nym sat there, dazed and in pain, while blood dripped from his nose.

“Better,” Babkin said. “If that is your strongest spell, you do not have anything that can stop me. Your reflexes are fast enough to deal with ghouls individually, but I worry for your safety if they outnumber you. Come, let us discuss the ways you may still improve.”

It was hard to focus on the big man’s words, but Nym shook the dizziness off, wiped the blood away, and forced himself to his feet. “Not yet,” he said. “One more match.”

Babkin frowned. “You are stubborn. I have your measure now. There is no need for another match.”

“One. More.” Nym grit his teeth and pulled in arcana. He flew back to the starting point and spun to face the berserker.

“Very well.”

Babkin took his starting spot, and the attendant counted down. Nym was already spinning out arcana when Babkin started moving, and the ground erupted around him, sending the berserker stumbling to his knees when the sand fell away in front of him. That wasn’t enough to stop Babkin. He hit the ground and threw himself up through the air, coming right at Nym.

He hadn’t wasted the brief window he’d gained with the spell. Before Babkin could close in on him, the sand swirled up and hardened into a golem nine feet tall. It was only vaguely humanoid, but reacted fast enough that when Babkin crashed into it, he met the golem’s arm stub, its approximation of a punch.

The berserker grunted as he bounced off. He eyed the golem warily, then tried to dart around it. Nym flew to keep the golem between them while mentally commanding it to advance. It lashed out, and Babkin responded in kind. He avoided obvious punches to get inside the golem’s reach and started pummeling it with his bare fists. Great gouts of sand blew out of the back of the golem’s body, but Nym poured more arcana into it and it sucked up new sand.

The golem fell on Babkin, pounding back with just as much force. The berserker aura shredded sand as it came close, which did nothing to soften the blows after they pushed through, but did strain the spells’ regeneration component and drain arcana faster. Babkin gave up on outmaneuvering it and threw himself on the golem.

It was impossible to see how the battle was progressing due to the sand flying everywhere. Nym floated backwards to give himself some distance and sent in a scry anchor, which he had marginally better success with. The sand was still blinding, but he was at least able to pick out the berserker’s hulking form inside it.

Babkin ripped a limb off and sent it flying through the air, where it struck Nym and knocked him back. He cried out in pain, and that was all Babkin needed. Two more limbs came flying out of the sand cloud, both solid hits against the young mage. Babkin was dismembering the golem as fast as it could regenerate, and with an enraged roar, he hefted it over his head and ripped it into two pieces.

The legs went behind Babkin, and he grabbed the torso with both hands. Babkin put his whole body into the throw and sent it towards Nym. There was just enough time for him to dismiss the golem and let it turn into a cloud of sand instead of a solid object and to project a kinetic barrier in front of him. Nym weathered the attack unharmed.

And then Babkin was in front of him. And then the fight was over, again.

“Damn it,” Nym swore.

The berserker said nothing. His breathing was ragged, and his fingers twitched at his side. With visible effort, he turned away and stomped across the arena to the far wall. Babkin took a minute to calm down before rejoining Nym and the attendant.

“I have underestimated you again,” he said. “I still have concerns, but this has done a great deal to alleviate them. I will not stop you from taking on jobs, only caution you to be aware of your limits and work in a team whenever possible.”

Nym wanted to throw it back at him, to tell the innkeeper-turned-berserker that he would do whatever he wanted. But he still had blood dripping from his nose, his shirt was still torn, and he was covered in bruises from where he’d been hit with the limbs of his own golem.

Instead of telling Babkin off, he just said, “Thanks for the advice. I’ll do everything I can to stay safe.”

“Good. Now, come, let’s get you to the healer. I’ll cover the cost to patch you up.”

“Thanks. One second,” Nym said, pinching his nose and holding his head back. He swept the arena with terrakinesis to grab all the sand and put it back into the pit. There was no sense in leaving a mess for someone else to clean up. “Okay, let’s go.”