The lord must not control his subjects with a clenched fist. To do so invites rebellion. Control must be exerted by giving his subjects a wide-open space to roam within, where they feel free and yet are forced to take on the task of their station.
Passage Seventeen, The Lost Precepts
Gryfin had a strong mount on top of Cego. Even though the purelight boy wasn’t giving his full effort, Cego felt the pressure.
“Now work through the sequence as we practiced,” Professor Dynari said as he limped by the students paired off in his sparse classroom. “Do not forget, we’re not focusing on simply escaping here; I want you at least three moves ahead.”
Cego bumped Gryfin forward and scooted his hips to the side. He used an elbow on the inside of Gryfin’s thigh to create space for his own knee and switched to his other hip, forcing his partner off balance. Cego slid Gryfin’s leg onto his shoulder, his arm hooked and hand grasping the boy’s knee. Cego backed away and stood up to unbalance Gryfin to the floor.
He met Gryfin’s eyes beneath him, and for a moment he saw the boy’s battered and bloody face. Cego looked away.
“I see you decided to go for the position reversal, Cego.” Professor Dynari had been watching his movements carefully. “I count three primary steps in your sequence. Mount escape, technical stand-up, and the takedown. But now you must fully pass Gryfin’s guard. Why not go straight to your own attack instead of giving him a chance to recover?”
Cego had already thought of the possibility of attacking one of Gryfin’s legs as soon as he’d escaped from mount. “I thought attacking the leg would be riskier if I couldn’t finish, so I decided to find a stable position on top.”
Dynari nodded. “A solid strategy. It’s nearly always better to be on top than bottom, especially against a pressure fighter like Thurgood. But Gryfin also has a solid guard, and the energy you’ll expend passing it will outweigh the risk you’d take attacking his leg right off. Try it.”
Cego followed the professor’s instructions and repeated the sequence from beneath Gryfin. This time, after he escaped from mount, he quickly turned onto one of his shoulders and trapped Gryfin’s leg. He spun around and attacked the boy’s knee, forcing Thurgood to quickly tap in submission.
“But what if Gryfin is able to defend the leg attack?” Cego asked, wiping the sweat from his brow. “He’ll end up on top again, and I’ll probably be in worse position than when we started.”
Professor Dynari smiled. “The chance to finish your opponent needs to be weighed more heavily than the potential risk of losing position. If you don’t give yourself the proper opportunity for offense, then no matter how good your attacks are, you will not be able to employ them.”
Cego watched Sol work a six-step move from the corner of his eye. She’d always been a natural at staying ahead in her sequences, planning multiple steps ahead like in her Bythardi game. The way she slid into each position with such fluidity, Cego couldn’t help but stare.
“Though Halberd has nearly mastered this exercise, you won’t gain from simply watching her,” Professor Dynari noted, bringing warmth to Cego’s cheeks.
“Right…” Cego trailed off. “I was wondering, Professor: What if an opponent can see your next move?”
“As in a game of Bythardi, an opponent can never truly know your next move in the Circle,” Dynari said. “They can only approximate what your most likely choices are from each position. You will always have a choice—that is, until the finish.”
Cego knew this to be true in nearly all facets of combat. But not with the Guardian he fought each day in the onyx. He knew it wouldn’t be true with Silas either. The blacklight saw ahead; it knew the next move before it happened.
“But… what if there was a way to see an opponent’s next move before it happened?” Cego forced the issue.
“I’ve been training Knights for the near entirety of my life,” Professor Dynari said. “I’ve coached the likes of Artemis Halberd. And I can definitively say there is no way to fully know the mind of another person. It is impossible to know what will come next until there is a physical manifestation of their intentions. Yes, one can read the slightest change in the demeanor of an adversary and predict their most likely action, but this is not the same as seeing a move that has not yet happened.”
Cego didn’t like doing it, but it was the only way to get the answer he needed. “I think you’re wrong.”
The entire class stopped what they were doing. One did not tell Professor Dynari, the most decorated teacher in the Lyceum, that he was wrong.
The man stood with his arms crossed.
“I do not like to make examples of my students, as that sort of learning is proven to be disabling rather than enabling; however, there are occasions when such methods are required.”
Cego swallowed. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Stand at the center of the class,” Dynari directed.
Cego slowly walked to the middle of the room. The rest of the students had broken from their pairs to watch the demonstration. Sol was shaking her head at him silently, and Cego could only shrug in reply.
“Dentas.” Dynari waved to one of the Level Fives in the class. “Give me your second skin.”
The thick boy looked a bit confused but obliged, pulling the black uniform off his back and handing it to the professor.
“Now.” Dynari threw the sweaty piece of clothing to Cego. “Tie that over your face.”
Was Dynari trying to embarrass him, having him wear a used uniform on his head? The punishment might fit with the less-refined tactics of some other professors, perhaps Tefo even, but Dynari was always known to be above such games.
Cego did as he was told, though, and wrapped the damp second skin over his face, completely blocking out his vision.
“We know Cego’s vision is completely obscured,” Dynari said. “And so, he’ll only have his olfactory, auditory, and tactile senses remaining. We will account for those as well.”
Cego heard a snicker from another student to his side. The class was likely raring to have some excitement to break up the repeated technique drills Dynari had been putting them through. But Cego hadn’t expected to be the focus of such a diversion.
“As for his olfactory sense,” Dynari continued, “it is not of much use for this experiment. And I have a feeling Dentas’s second skin may be occupying Cego’s nose.”
Cego nodded in agreement, trying to breathe through his mouth from beneath the sweaty rag.
“We will also negate any auditory or tactile senses,” Dynari explained. “Dentas, please stand in front of Cego at arm’s length.”
Cego stood up straight, his hands down at his side. He could hear Dentas pad over to stand near him.
“Dentas will stay silent prior to an attack of his choice,” Dynari said. “He may choose any type of strike directed at Cego’s body or head.”
“What?” Cego heard Sol’s voice. “This is ridiculous. What is this supposed to demonstrate except Cego’s ability to take punishment?”
“Halberd,” Dynari said calmly. “Cego seems to believe that outside of a Grievar’s primary senses, there is some way to see actions before they occur. This is an extremely dangerous notion, given it will impart to any fighter a false sense of security as well as preventing them from fully embracing the superior senses we’ve been bestowed with. I aim to show Cego, and the class, the erroneous nature of this notion.”
“But he’s wrong!” Sol pleaded. “Cego knows it; he hasn’t been himself lately and—”
“Enough,” Dynari said. “Dentas, choose your shot, and when you have my visual command, take it.”
“Uh, you sure, Professor?” Cego heard the hesitation in the Level Five’s baritone voice. “Don’t want to hurt my fellow classmate.”
“We have very able clerics at our disposal at the Lyceum,” Dynari said. “Ready yourself.”
Cego started to raise his hands to protect his face but realized how pointless the action would be. If Dentas saw him defending his head, the boy would simply strike low, with a kick or body shot. If Cego lowered his guard or raised a leg to protect his body, Dentas would strike high.
Cego kept his hands at his side and breathed out, trying to—
He doubled over on the ground, heaving for breath, his midsection throbbing from what felt like a hard knee down the center.
“This is senseless,” Cego heard Sol growl, closer to him now.
“Cego,” the professor said. “Without having your hands on Dentas or the benefit of any sort of auditory signals, were you able to predict anything about his coming attack?”
Cego shook his head from the ground and slowly rose. Of course, Professor Dynari was right. There was nothing that could tell him where Dentas would strike. Except the blacklight. If he could figure out how to—
Cego’s head snapped back and he was toppling over, barely able to slap the ground in time to break his fall. Pain radiated from his forehead where Dentas had planted a fist or foot; Cego wasn’t sure which.
“Stop this!” Sol shouted. Cego heard a grunt and a scuffle.
“Hey, get her off me!” Dentas yelled.
“Halberd, if you can’t watch the demonstration with the rest, you will be forced to leave the classroom,” Professor Dynari said. “And you won’t be asked to return.”
“After seeing the stupidity of this class, I don’t expect I will be returning,” Sol growled.
Cego knew it wasn’t true. Sol had been ecstatic to finally make it into Stratagems and Maneuvers. Her technique had improved drastically since she’d started the class.
“Sol.” Cego’s voice was muffled from beneath the cloth. “Stay, please.”
Sol was quiet. He could tell she’d stopped moving and was holding her breath. She was anticipating another vicious blow, just as Cego was.
Cego grasped at the blacklight within him, the dark threads woven through his body.
He saw Dentas standing in front of him on the black sand beach, the void of the sky above and the sea of motionless waves melting to the horizon.
Dentas threw a knee to Cego’s midsection and he raised his hands to deflect the attack.
“Impressive.” Professor Dynari’s voice dropped into the bleak landscape. “But you likely predicted this to be Dentas’s strongest attack. You’re smart, but you’re not seeing his move before it happens.”
“Again.” Cego heard himself say the word.
Crimson lightning flashed across his vision, and he saw Dentas throw a jab at his face. Cego weaved his head from the incoming punch before it touched him.
Professor Dynari and the class were silent this time.
“Again,” Cego said.
Dentas launched a cross aimed to take his head off, and Cego ducked beneath it.
“Again.”
The Level Five threw two jabs and a cross, followed with a round kick to the midsection. The attacks were sloppy. Cego bobbed and weaved, caught the kick and tossed Dentas backward.
“Again!” Cego yelled this time.
He heard Dentas growl, becoming frustrated. He watched the boy throw another barrage of strikes at him, each coming slower and clumsier in succession.
He easily defended each attack without hesitation. Cego’s opponent was frozen like the static whitecaps across the sea.
Cego dug his feet into the black sand, let the granules filter between his toes. He breathed the salty air and watched red veins of lightning flicker across the black sky.
He turned back to his opponent, still frozen in front of him, prey waiting to be taken. He felt the blacklight urging him to return Dentas’s attacks, pushing him to tear into the boy.
Cego ripped the cloth off his face and tossed it to the floor of the classroom. The black skies faded from the edges of his vision.
“How… how did you do that?” Professor Dynari’s eyes were wide, an expression Cego had never seen on the reserved man before.
“How can I fight someone that can do the same?” Cego asked. “If someone knows what you do, before you do it, how can you do anything at all?”
Dynari didn’t have an answer. His mouth quivered, but he was saved from any response as the door to the classroom erupted open.
A Lyceum administrator stood straight-backed and sweating. “Professor, you’re needed immediately.”
“I’m in the middle of a class, as you can see,” Dynari said with frustration, keeping his eyes on Cego.
“The high commander requires your attention now, Professor.” The administrator motioned for the doorway.
“And what of my class?” Dynari said. “I have no replacement right now—”
“No replacement is needed,” the man said briskly. “All Lyceum students are to report for lockdown immediately.”
“Why?” Dynari asked the question all the students in his class were bubbling with.
“You can ask High Commander Albright,” the man said. “I’m just following orders.”