Weight of Worlds

Arriving at weapon class Ranvir immediately noticed the restless energy permeating the field. This was their last class on the last day before the day-off. It showed. Students were eagerly talking and elbow shoving each other.

They were so busy Ranvir barely heard a mention of ‘Cold-front’. It was only when he passed the sword group where a clique—which had gathered around Dovar—were eager to call him out.

Dovar didn’t talk often but Ranvir could tell he enjoyed having that kind of power, just from his posture alone. He stood like he was gloating.

“What are we going to do tomorrow?” Grev asked. He looked expectantly at Sansir and Ranvir, like he anticipating some great cosmic answer.

“Probably go to the city again?” Sansir sounded more like he was asking than answering.

“Actually, I was-“ Ranvir began.

“Alright, students!” Master Vigo yelled from the front of the class, clapping his hands together. “You’re all excited, so I think we’re gonna start a little early today.”

A little miffed at having been cut off, Ranvir looked at their teacher. He had a barely contained sense of glee surrounding him, which instantly made Ranvir light up with yellow nervousness.

Behind him was the usual sight of Master Stjarna, but alongside the healer stood a new figure. She was tall, perhaps the tallest person at the field. She wore a black uniform, with white accents along the borders.

It looked just like the master’s uniform, except the colors were inverted. “Is she-“

“From the Royal School.” Grev finished. “Yes, she must be a Master.”

Sansir’s voice was filled with distinctly less awe and more worry. “What’s she doing here?”

“Grab your weapon of choice, then follow! Today, we’ll be taking our class at a slightly different field.” Teacher Vigo yelled, waving his hand for them to follow. He quickly caught up to the healer and the strange woman as his students scrambled to grab their weapons.

Running with a weapon was surprisingly difficult, though Ranvir was certain his perspective was slightly altered by his constant state of exhaustion.

Though to his relief he wasn’t the only one lacking in physical fortitude. Most of the class were struggling like him. The only exceptions Ranvir saw were Grev, Dovar, and two from the spear group. Notably, they all had the same slightly different type of uniform.

Even Sansir was struggling, though not as much as Ranvir.

Finally, they stopped in front of a ranged field. It had multiple lanes each with a straw dummy. The range only went back about fifty feet, which seemed pretty close for marksmanship. Though as Ranvir thought about it, bows had never been an option for them.

Wonder why that is? He thought idly, though his attention was grabbed by Vigo who started speaking.

“Today, we’re going to do something a little special!” He exclaimed. “I know you’re all nervous and ready to visit the ‘gardens’, so we’ve set up something special for you. A little competition!

“You will each set up into groups of three-to-four and throw from the fifty foot line. One point for hitting the chest, two points for the limbs…” He paused for a long moment, looking over the group. “Three points for the groin.” Grev immediately let out a childish sound along with approximately all the other students in the class, as he dug his elbows into Ranvir and Sansir.

“And four points for the head. There will of course be rewards to the three people with most points, along with a few special awards.”

“That’s not fair!” Someone yelled out from the middle of the gathered students. “…sir. The spear guys are totally going to win.”

“Sucks to be you then.” Vigo said, turning to look at the field. “Your time starts… now.” Right as he finished, the bell’s powerful noise exploded across the campus and their class officially started.

“Let’s go!” Grev shouted, raising his wooden sword in a furious charge, as he pushed through the students to go first. Ranvir followed behind quickly. He didn’t want to get separated and end up joining a different group, while his friends had fun without him.

***

It was pure monstrous chaos. More students had filtered over to the field after the bell rung. These were older students who had been called in by Teacher Vigo to keep score.

A sword flew by Ranvir’s head as he gathered his own group’s weapons. He very nearly threw himself to the ground after seeing it pass. Not that it wouldn’t do much good at that point.

Glaring over his shoulder, he saw the group on the lane next to their shaking their heads and pointing with their weapons at a sheepish looking teenager. Quickly grabbing up the equipment Ranvir ran back to his friends, handing their weapons off.

“Your turn next, Grev.” Ranvir said. He shook his shoulders out, trying to loosen some of the black fingered tension crawling across his neck.

That hadn’t been the first close call on the field. It was pandemonium. Vigo wasn’t trying to control it at all, not even bothering to teach them how to throw their weapons. They were all just going at it.

Grev threw his sword, somehow managing to hit one of the arms again. He let out a whoop as he made space for Ranvir. A smile forced its way onto Ranvir’s face as lifted his hammer sighting in on the dummy’s head. It was really fun, though.

He threw with all the force he could muster, nailing the dummy in the groin… again.

“What is wrong with you?” Sansir asked, stepping in to throw his axe.

“I don’t know, it’s like the hammer’s drawn to it…”

Grev just clapped him on the shoulder and laughed.

Not even two minutes after the competition began were the first cries of pain shouted out. At first it had stopped all action on the field. When the only reaction an older students pulling the teenager over to Master Stjarna, the people returned to their reckless fun.

Ranvir shook his head, as Sansir somehow managed to intersect a sword thrown from a different lane. They watched as Sansir’s axe spun off into the distance, the group to their right burst into laughter at the display.

The chaos continued for a while longer. While there was plenty of close calls at their lanes, they didn’t experience any emergencies that required more than a few seconds of an older students time.

A student two lanes over was hit by a sword and broke his finger, which had to be fixed by the Masters watching over them. Ranvir didn’t follow it too closely. He’d seen the boy block the wooden missile with his hand, and how his long finger bent unnaturally in the middle. The sight was enough for him.

Go for the head this time. Ranvir thought to himself, as an axe from the lane on his right flew under its dummy. Dead in the head.

He mimed throwing his weapon a few times. Imagining it flying through the air and cracking into the dummy’s face. He had the least amount of points in his group. Both Sansir and Grev had hit the head once, and they consistently hit the limbs and torso.

Ranvir rarely hit anything, though he made up for it with groin shots when he did connect. It’s heavy. It needs more power. He pulled back and threw the hammer with all his might the target.

It spun through the air, flying at least two feet above the target and a little to the right. The student picking up his axe from behind his dummy straightened, lifting the weapon to cheers from his friends.

The hollow crack curdled Ranvir’s stomach. Frost-blue fear lashed his body, as his middle dropped out under him.

Three thuds. First, the hammer. Small but heavy, it impacted the ground with low thud. Then the student’s long winded fall, and the hollow thump. Then the axe wedging itself into the ground.

The lanes next to them fell quiet.

Ranvir looked to his right where Grev was standing. Yellow-green nausea was rising in his throat. He tried to swallow as he looked back. The Master from the Royal School was kneeling next to the body, light sparkling around her. Blood had run down his face over his brow and one eye.

“He’s alright.” She said. Her voice filled authority, inserting deep golden-brown calm into Ranvir. The student sat up slowly, blinking languidly. “Take care.” Her voice was barely audible to Ranvir. “Take it slow, you hit your head.”

A heavy hand landed on Ranvir’s shoulder. He turned with a start, one of the older students were looking at him, intently. “Those are still weapons you’re throwing. You got lucky this time.”

Ranvir nodded shakily, his legs going weak. Sitting down he heard Sansir and Grev also fall on their asses next to him. One of them put a hand on his back, rubbing it back and forth.

“Shit.” Ranvir cursed.

They sat like that for a time, before someone crunched through the sand of the range towards them. Looking up Ranvir saw it was the student he’d hit. He was a little shaky on his feet, but seemed otherwise fine, though the Master was still standing close to him.

The student held his axe in one hand, in the other he held the bloodstained hammer Ranvir had thrown at him. Ranvir’s hammer.

“It was an accident.” He sounded fine, as he offered the weapon. Tentatively, Ranvir grabbed it. “I’m okay, I’ll be throwing again in no time.” He winked as he walked away. Ranvir noticed that he didn’t sit with his group, but with the Master Stjarna and the woman. There were a few other students who were sitting with them too.

“That was lucky.” Grev said getting to his feet. “Do you need a minute?”

Ranvir nodded turning the hammer in his hand.

Sansir got to his feet and soon enough they were throwing again. Though not with the same abandon. As Ranvir looked around he saw that all the lanes near them, those who’d witnessed the hammer connecting, all were a little more careful.

They all checked that no one was on the field, and took longer before they threw.

The icy blue feeling his stomach had solidified to dark frozen mass, sitting heavily in his stomach.

One corner of the hammer was covered in blood and hair. Ranvir swallowed as he picked the hairs out. Then pulled a handful of grass up to rub some of the blood off. The wood had morphed slightly after the impact. Smaller grooves had also been worn into the hammer from the other throws, but the slightly crumpled corner was more noticeable.

Picking at it, he pulled out something that had been stuck in the wood. At first he though it was some sand, or a bit of stone, that had gotten wedged in. But as he got it out, he recognized it.

He’d seen slivers like that all over the road, just a few years ago. He’d picked them out of his mother’s dress. Bone. Immediately, he turned to look at the student he’d hit.

He was still sitting next to the Masters, though he looked remarkably steady compared to just a minute or two prior. Looking closer Ranvir noticed the grass surrounding them had dew on it. Like rime that had melted in the morning sun. On an afternoon.

He looked up. The sun was starting fall low in the sky, the first eye of the Goddess trailing behind it. The pale gray of the moon not nearly as clear as the two nighttime moons.

He turned his attention back to the wounded students sitting around the Masters. He thought, maybe, it was just a bit brighter around them as well, though it might be his imagination.

She said he was fine. Ranvir’s thoughts traveled back to the impact. How the student had dropped, like his fallen axe. How quickly the Master had gotten to him, before any students had even spoken up.

Frowning, Ranvir turned back to the sliver of bone between his fingers. His hammer forgotten on the sand between his legs. The impact must’ve been worse than she let on…

Doubt played for control in Ranvir’s mind, as he trawled over what happened again and again.

“Come on!” Grev called, grabbing his arm and hauling him to his feet. “Let’s play some more. You’re losing and by a lot.”

Ranvir looked down at the bone, biting his lip. Dropping it, he grabbed his hammer and got in behind Sansir.

“There we go.” Grev clapped him twice on the back. “Just gotta get used to it again.”

It was still fun. It was very fun to throw weapons at pretty much anything. It did take a while before Ranvir really fell into it again. Though he, like the others, didn’t throw with the same abandon, first making sure their lanes were clear.

They’d even banded together with the lanes surrounding them to throw in turns. So all the weapons were on the field when they went out to pick them up. He was surprised by the warm orange glow of comfort that bloomed in his chest at his fellow student’s actions.

Teacher Vigo wrangled all the students up, a few minutes before class ended. “We have the results!” He waved a slate tablet in the air. “First, I would like to congratulate you. You only had six broken bones through the entire exercise. Some other notable statistics are:

Four minor lacerations.

One person who was temporarily blinded.

Seven self-inflicted injuries. Let’s all give Vergan a round of applause for being nearly half of them.” Ranvir couldn’t see the student in question, but from uproar of noise further into the crowd, his friends could.

“Three people who were, however temporarily, knocked out.

Two teeth that had to be reinserted.

One shoe pinned to a dummy with an axe.” There was another small applause at that.

“And finally, half a student set on fire.” Teacher Vigo lowered the slate and looked out over the crowd. “Now for the part you’re all really waiting for: The Awards. First place goes to: Bjorn, who was by far the most consistent thrower among all the groups. Come up here.” Bjorn was a smaller student, though he was nearly as wide as a bear and just as hairy. If he wasn’t in their class, Ranvir would’ve assumed him to be a fourth or fifth year. He was awarded five silver witnesses, and shooed away.

“Second place goes to: Ragn.” Ragn was unremarkable in every fashion of the word. He was of a height with Ranvir, thin without being lanky, he had brown hair, and an unassuming walk.

“Third place goes to: Grevor.” Ranvir raised his brows in surprise, before slapping his friend on the back. He went up and got his single witness.

“Now for students of note, that didn’t score to reach the top three...” Teacher Vigo continued. “Most headshots, with a stunning seven hits. Don’t worry though, they came at cost for he’s also the student with the most misses! Dovar!” Ranvir glared as Dovar got accepted his five copper eyes.

“Most students set on fire: He somehow managed, without neither a source nor the tethered ability of light, to set his friend on fire: Herlaug!” Ranvir was too busy glaring at Dovar, from where he stood out head and shoulders above the crowd, to get a proper look on Herlaug. He vaguely noticed the singed uniform, but otherwise ignored him.

“And now for the most disturbing student in class: Most shots to the groin!” There was a collective groan from the entire class. “He managed an astounding eleven hits to the groin and not much else. Should we applause or run in fear? It’s Ranvir!”

Ranvir blinked as Grev fell over with laughter. Ranvir was filled too many colors of emotion, he wasn’t sure how to feel. Bright-red embarrassment, yellow excitement, a bit of black anger, towards Dovar.

In the end, he got up and accepted his five copper eyes.