Karlos Visante, or Karl as his family called him, grew up hearing the story of how his mother had almost died giving birth to him inside a storage chest. She always reminded him of the debt of gratitude he owed to the woman who had found them and helped in his delivery. This mystery woman had kept them safe, helped his mother out of the box full of his birthing blood and even helped him take his first breath. Karl’s mother always said that in the end, she had placed their lives before her own. His mom reminded Karl of this to show how his life was meant to be of value, because otherwise they both should have died that day, as had Karl’s father. It was the day the King’s Legion raided their home in the village of Vesta, in the Kingdom of Tilo.
His mother said he was born for greatness; he was not to settle for less. But his life was like of anyone else’s. When he was four months old, his mother had married a butcher who was bound to move to the Bowen Desert where he intended to start his own business. The young butcher was a big, tall and honest man. He encouraged all his children to work hard and be part of the Chanter Oasis, where they now lived, and he steadfastly kept Karl’s mother pregnant every two to three years. Karl ended up having six brothers and sisters whom he loved, and he believed his mother when she said he was meant for something special. He grew up believing the myth that he was unique. When Karl turned six, he was sent to the Oasis’s instructors, who checked children for signs of having Gifts or Vessels. The rest of the children learned the basics: letters and numbers. They learned the rules of the desert, the oasis, the Kingdom of Vanyan and the Quetzan Empire.
But it was when Karl was a month short of turning twelve the instructors called Karl’s parents for a meeting. Karl wanted to know what exactly his level of “special” was. He had no friends in school, though that didn’t matter because he had plenty of brothers and sisters. All the other kids in school made fun of him because Karl couldn’t read or write well. That was why he wanted to know how he was to be great. His mother had never said what made him so different, except he was supposed to be dead but had survived. The day of the meeting came, and Karl sneaked out and listened from the outside of the room by a window. His entire life was changed by snooping. He overheard his instructors telling his mother and father that Karl needed to do the desert walk.
“Karl is nothing but a waste of resources.” His teachers said that Karl had failed all their tests. He could barely read and write, had no Gift or Vessel, had no mining equipment ability and his lack of skill with herbs and plants left him unsuitable as a healer. The instructors suggested they should set Karl loose in the desert and let him die. They should not even waste their time training him as a butcher. The only possibility was for him to be one of the men who took a hammer and mined the rocks by hand or be a second-class pit fighter if he grew enough and built up muscle.
Karl was called a simpleton and the teachers told his parents his mind couldn’t learn. His mother stood up, said good afternoon and left. His father stated that Karl wouldn’t return to the school. Karl couldn’t believe his ears. He was an idiot; his mother had been completely wrong. And he decided he would never snoop ever again.
Karl wandered around the Oasis for the entire afternoon. He didn’t want to go back home. But sooner or later he had to face his parents, so he arrived home by dinnertime. His mother gave him a big hug and told him his father wanted to talk to him in the kitchen. Karl knew they were disappointed with him. He tried so hard to be the best brother and son. Why couldn’t he read and write? That was what Karl kept asking himself. Karl’s spirit sank even lower. With his heart pounding fast and his eyes watering from mental anguish, Karl walked into the kitchen. What would they do?
They loved him, but in a desert, a waste of resources needed to disappear! The fear of every child came fast for Karl—to lose Mom, Dad and home … a spear through his heart.
“Karl, come in and sit down. We had a meeting with your instructors today.”
Karl sat down and bowed his head.
“Yes, Father.” Karl’s voice cracked a bit, but with the courage of a young man who had accepted his fate.
“Karl, son, look at me! You have done nothing wrong. You—look at me, son.”
“Karl, look at your father,” said his mother.
Karl had a pounding headache and his thoughts were in turmoil with how he would survive alone in the desert. I shamed my family and this is my fault. How could I have embarrassed my dad this badly? Karl worked hard and paid attention. He just saw the letters in a different order than the instructors. He couldn’t help it.
With teary eyes, Karl sat and looked his father in the eyes.
“Your mom and I decided you are too valuable for that school. I’m going to train you myself as a butcher and a businessman. I will teach you how to cut the meat and the process of caring for the product. Your mom will train you in the numbers. You are my eldest and the business will be yours and your brothers’ responsibility once I’m old. There is a lot to learn …. Darling, you have something to add?”
“Karl, this is not going to be easy, but we know you can do this. Now, let’s get ready for dinner.”
“Jovon, Didi, help your mother set the table. Your older brother and I have man-things to talk about for a few minutes.”
Karl couldn’t believe his ears. That was not what his instructors had said. His parents were going to train him themselves. They were not going to send him out as a desert-walker. He was to be a butcher!
Karl started working with his father in the butcher shop the very next morning. He loved his parents and he would do anything for them.
But hormones hit every teenager and when Karl was fourteen, he saw Tamla for the first time. She had the most luscious honey-blond hair and eyes as green as the emeralds that were mined in the Oasis of Susa. She was shy and had a lovely face. The girl’s family had moved to the Chanter Oasis from the Spring Thun when Tamla’s Gift as a Stone-Magi became evident. Chanter needed a Stone-Magi and she was going to be part of the new generation of Stone-Magi for Chanter.
Karl needed to be extraordinary in some way if he was going to attract the attention of Tamla’s father. Karl wanted to talk to Tamla so badly and see if she would accept him. He knew he needed to be more than a butcher, more than ordinary, be outstanding for the Elders to even consider him for a Stone-Magi like Tamla. Karl knew he couldn’t rely on his looks. He had curly hair, though no one could describe the color. During the day, his hair looked light-brown mixed with strands of darker brown, and white, and blond, and even red. At night, it looked almost black. His face was plain and he had a large nose compared to his head. The young man had more chest and facial hair than most boys his age. His eyes were brown, but a shade so dark he didn’t need to squint to block the light from the sun. Karl was a mess of a teenager and as clumsy as two giant cows dancing.
To impress the Elders and Tamla’s father, Karl asked his father to get him an apprenticeship as a pit fighter. Karl figured he could train, get stronger, improve with throwing weapons and win a championship. For the first time in his life, Karl had a plan. He actually wished his mother was right about him and he was meant for something great, even if that greatness was to get the girl of his dreams. His father and mother tried to dissuade him, but he had his mind made up. He reasoned with his parents that he was good at throwing with accuracy and he was strong, which were good qualities for a fighter. His father did what any father who loves his child would do. He talked to a grand master client of his. Two months later, Karl got an apprenticeship.
Master Otto
Karl’s nickname was “The Stick,” not because of Karl’s slim figure in spite of the massive quantities of food he ate, but because a stick was all he could handle as a weapon without causing bodily harm—not to his opponent but to himself. Karl was clumsy, awkward and lacked balance. The boy couldn’t even walk on a ledge four feet above the ground without falling. Karl was healthy and had an accurate eye, but he hesitated. After two months of training with the first-year students, Karl had improved little. Grand Master Otto couldn’t understand how a young man so strong couldn’t hit a human target in front of his eyes. But he saw Karl fighting wooden dummies and breaking them all with his strength and throwing rocks at desert snakes over twenty yards away, hitting them every time. But something blocked Karl’s intent when a living person was involved. Something was interfering.
“That was a great practice, young ones. Your test will be in two weeks. Master Otto will oversee the test and will select those of you who will move to the next level of first-year training,” said an instructor.
Otto, a short, skinny man with long arms and legs, observed Karl with interest. Karl’s class was over and he was angry with himself again. Why couldn’t Karl let go and hit the target in front of him? Otto was sure the boy could see his opponent. Why didn’t he hit?
Otto relaxed and looked deeper into Karl. Being both a grand master fighter and a Discerner-Magi was good. That was when Otto understood. Karl knew where to hit and how, but he was afraid to hurt the target. Karl saw the human being! He was aware of the kind of damage he could do. Karl knew if he hit in the right direction and the right place, he could kill. The kid just needed to learn how to control the power he put into his blows.
How could Karl know all this about the human body? Karl could barely read. He didn’t have any training with a healer and he had no Gifts!
And then Otto remembered seeing Karl in the school early in the morning. He saw Karl watching and listening to the early morning lectures for the second-, third- and senior-year students. Karl couldn’t read or write properly, but he could easily remember what he heard or what he saw in pictures. As a Discerner-Gifted, Otto understood what Karl was doing to himself and it was the wrong way to learn.
Karl
Meanwhile, Karl knew he needed to start performing or his dream to woo Tamla would soon be shattered. The mere mention of a test seemed to herald the end of his young life. He saw Tamla every afternoon, following her home at a distance after her training. He wanted to make sure she arrived home safely. There was nothing dangerous in the Chanter Oasis, but it comforted Karl to see the object of his affection alive and well.
Karl was collecting his equipment when Master Otto appeared out of nowhere, giving Karl the scare of his life.
“If I were to hit you with a high kick to your head with enough force to break a large stone, what would you do?”
“Master, I didn’t hear you approach. I … apologize.”
“Answer my question!”
“I would parry.”
“Show me. You will not hurt me and I will not hurt you. Start. Defend yourself,” said Master Otto.
The master threw kick after kick and kept coming at Karl slowly, but with force enough to make the kid nervous. Somehow this kid could tell how much power each kick would have. The master then threw punches and high kicks. Karl parried and defended himself from the punches and kicks. The master stopped.
“Karl, why don’t you show this type of agility in training? I observed you today and it was as if you didn’t want to hit your opponent. Why? And keep to the truth. I’m a Discerner-Magi; I can tell deception.”
Karl couldn’t lie to his grand master fighting tutor. He knew he was going to get kicked out of the school for real, but he told the truth.
“Master, I’ve been listening to the lectures for the advanced classes and I have been observing the students. As I practice with my classmates, I’m afraid I may do something that may hurt them! It’s as if I have many different moves, but I don’t know where which goes. I’m sorry, Master. I will leave if you ask me to go. I have not learned the basics and here I’m listening to the advanced lectures.” Karl looked at his master straight in the eyes. Karl’s father had taught him to stand tall and accept his mistakes. His father said that was the best way to learn.
“Come with me, Karl.”
Karl followed with lots of curiosity and a little trepidation.
Master Otto walked toward the main entrance of the school. Karl thought his master was going to show him the exit and ask him to never return. But they walked past the entrance, down the side corridor and out into an open garden which surrounded the large circular fighting pit in the middle; then on they walked to another side door and into the master’s office. Without a word, the master lifted the rug in front of his desk and opened a trapdoor, revealing a spiral stairway. Master Otto and Karl descended to the lower levels of the school.
There they walked into a circular hall with a sunroof in the middle. It was the fighting pit. The lobby, rooms and surrounding areas were a lot cooler than the upper levels, and the walls were lined with stands filled with a variety of different weapons. There were six rooms around the circular hall, each room beautifully furnished. Karl had never seen anything like this before. This place was where the master fighters trained.
“From today, you will train here. I will train you myself and the only other trainer you will have is Joe. Hey Joe, come and meet Karl.”
“Otto, darling, if you are telling me that we have another useless, smelly student to train I will cast you out. Wow, this portly boy with skinny legs is your new trainee?”
“Joe, this is Karl. He has potential.”
Karl couldn’t believe his eyes. Joe was a well-proportioned, full-of-muscles woman. Her hair was chestnut-colored and cut short to her shoulders. Joe’s eyes changed color. They were as dark as the Black Spires one moment and then as warm and reddish-brown as her chestnut hair. She was a beautiful woman with a thin scar that went from the corner of her nose to the side of her chin.
“Karl, heh. We need to add some muscle to this boy!” said Joe without any preamble.
“Joe, this one eats like he has an empty pit in his stomach. He is strong, but his balance is in need of improvement.”
“So, your balance sucks and you eat the food of two grown men and don’t gain a pound but around your belly?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Karl, embarrassed but curious about what this gorgeous woman Joe would say next.
“Come with me now.” Joe turned and didn’t wait to see if he was following her.
Joe took Karl to a well-stocked kitchen that had every herb on the planet. It looked like a mini forest. She rummaged through her herbs, mixed a few together, added boiling water, added some other powders and mixed.
“Drink this now,” said Joe.
“What is it?” Karl had never been one to take medicine easily. He hated the taste of any medicine.
“Drink it, if you want me to train you,” said Joe in a quiet voice, but with enough authority to make an army move to war.
Karl drank it.
“Joe, what did you give him?”
“This boy has parasites!” said Joe to Master Otto.
“Hey kid, go home and sleep close to the latrine tonight. That stuff Joe gave you will clean you out but not cure you. Come here early in the morning and she’ll make you the next potion will kill the parasites, and the final medicine will make your stomach better. You will eat and drink what we give you. I will talk to your parents. You will live at the school and go home for one day per week. Joe is your new master and you will not have another until she says you are ready. Do you understand?” Master Otto looked at Karl, waiting for his response.
“Yes, Master Otto. Thank you, Master.”
Karl drank the potion and left for home. On his way home, his stomach started the battle for ownership of his gut against the tiny invaders from Hell that had been squatters in his body. Pain, sweat, nausea—and then Karl became a sprinter, with the outhouse as the finish line.
Twenty-Five Years Later
Karl
The Knight of Chanter won again! How many fights could a man win over a twenty-five-year career of fighting? The Knight of Chanter was a legend. He had lost only three fights in his entire life. And those three fighters had returned to face him in the pit again, but Karl had broken their arms in the second fight. Every fight he turned to his advantage.
Despite Karl starting his fighting career to gain the heart of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, Tamla, in the end she married the baker’s son. She preferred the son of a man who baked bread for a living. Sometimes he wondered if he had stayed with his family and followed in the family business what would have happened. But hell! He was rich, he was famous and he had given his parents and siblings the best money could buy. He had women, many women, but not the one he wanted.
And tonight, he only wanted to win so he could have the right to have the healer’s youngest daughter for the week. That young woman was a beauty. Maybe by the end of the week, he might have made his seventh … no, eighth son. That was all he had—illegitimate boys. All the women ended up marrying other men once he refused to marry them, and because he was an expert Toya pit fighter and Chanta Warrior Pit Fighter, no one would force his hand to do anything. No Elder had ever made him a match he had accepted or could be forced into. Why marry when he could take what was freely given? Besides, he had lost the one he truly wanted.
Another championship for his collection. Karl wanted to beat the local champion in the Nin’vae Oasis. She may be a slave, but he couldn’t care less. He intended to strip the championship from the Master Toya Pit Fighter. His mother used to say that Karl was born for greatness, and here he was, the greatest champion who’d ever lived. He may not be a master, but who cared to be master? Karl didn’t want to train students; he didn’t wish to apprentice young ones. They were a waste of time.
Karl had tried teaching a pair of brothers ten years earlier. Both boys had potential, but they both died fighting in an alley, with the Elders doing nothing to the ruffians who had killed them. The ruffians were the two sons of the local High Elder who carried forbidden weapons. He had killed the ones who killed his students and he took his punishment like a man. His sentence was to become a Hago. However, before he was transformed, the truth came out about the killers of his students.
Instead, Karl got stripped of his master title and became a slave. He was the biggest, most decorated champion in the Oasis. In any case, Karl was made a slave, but won his champion title a year later and thus lost his slave status. Now Karl could fight in the pits as he saw fit or decline fights if he so chose. But Karl had to wear a chain around his arms to restrict his motion outside the pit, as a sign he was dangerous.
Karl found himself in the Ninvae Oasis. They were celebrating the Decennial Fest. It was a festive time the time where the pit fighters were celebrating the championships. Master Jray was said to be participating and Karl wanted to fight her. and part of his reward was a night with the daughter of the pit manager.
“This week I fight the slave, Master Jray. I will win the champion title for this oasis. I will lose these chains for a night and I will take that pretty young thing for a ride.” It was all Karl wanted and all he cared for until he had to choose.