Tears of Dusk

“Isyd, they are all watching us…” Jadwia whispered next to him, worried.

Good! The attention was something Isyd planned to work with.

Jadwia, Oliwer and Isyd had arrived at the Great Hall with its high columns and glass domes. A chalkboard was installed near the set of spiralling stairs that led to the upper floors. On it was the list of the Rings that desired to participate in the Tourney as well as their Ringleader. As was expected, the list was 6 names long: those of the Paramount Rings. Isyd was surprised not to see one or two more Rings also trying to participate. He could see traces of chalk at the bottom of the list where names had been inscribed before being erased. He wouldn’t be surprised if a few Pupils had wanted to try their luck before changing their mind after seeing their competition.

Isyd approached the board, flanked by his Ringmate. He had waited for the very last moment before adding his Ring to the list. He reasoned that the earlier he showed his hand, the more time to act he gave to anyone who wished to stop the Tears from participating. That was also the reason why he paid Jozaf to stay silent for a couple of days. A Tutor was supposed to come down here anytime soon and retrieve the list and announce the preliminary selection. This was why the Great Hall was more crowded than usual.

And everyone’s eyes were on Isyd as he began writing at the bottom of the list.

The Tears – Isyd Wybrany

That was all it took. Isyd turned to speak to Jadwia and Oliwer when he noticed a figure fast approaching in their direction. The young man was tall and handsome, with striking green eyes behind glasses and curly, chestnut hair tied in a ponytail. Isyd recognized at once Aaron Gwemb, the Ringleader of the Cerulean Feathers. He had spent some time with Jozaf and interrogated him on each Paramount Ring to learn more about who he’d have to face. Many of the Seniors had been away during the first semester at extracurricular exercises outside the Academy, and the Paramount Ringleaders were no exception.

Aaron Gwemb, 8th Year and 6th Opening, was liked by most of the Pupils, even by Juniors that weren’t affiliated with his Ring. He became the Ringleader of the Cerulean Feathers two years ago. Isyd wasn’t sure what to make of him and he had let that slip out when speaking with Jozaf.

“You weren’t here two years ago,” Jozaf had then said with a mysterious grin. “There’s a reason why he became the Ringleader and not someone else...”

Aaron approached him with an extended hand and a toothy smile. “Isyd Wybrany! My name is Aaron Gwemb. I finally get the chance to meet you!”

Isyd accepted his hand. “Nice to meet you, Senior!”

“Oh, you can drop the ‘Senior’. I see you added your name to the list. I didn’t know you were interested in the Tourney. It is more a pity then that you didn’t join us!” he glanced to the side and winked at those accompanying Isyd. “Plus, you snatched Jadwia and Oliwer from us!”

“I hope you don’t hold it against me…” Isyd said.

“I wish I had seen it coming, but… well, you are a difficult person to anticipate as I am quickly learning…” This was said with a tongue-in-cheek tone.

Aaron was about to add something but he was interrupted by a jeering voice coming from behind him.

“It is true that you are as gutsy as they say you are…”

It was a woman’s voice. They turned to see her coming down from the stairs. She was a tall, lean young woman, with long straight black hair. Her features had a delicateness that was beautiful but foreign, only accentuated by her dark eyebrows permanently frowned in an angry glare. She was looking down on Isyd as if she had just stepped on a bug and she was furious it had deigned to sully her sole.

“Who of them should I watch out for?” Isyd had asked Jozaf back during their talk.

“Frankly? All of them! They are all exceptional in their own kind!”

“This isn’t the kind of advice I’m paying you for…”

“Fine… Then, I’d say you should watch out for two of them specifically. The first person is the Ringleader of the Faded Jaded, Söyem Nifritovna, 9th Year and 6th Opening. People say she’s from the Wild Steppes in Matizna, I don’t know if you’re familiar... She took over the Faded Jade when she was only in the 4th Opening and nobody could wrestle it away from her since, not from lack of trying…”

“That’s all you can tell me about her?”

“Well… yeah…’” Jozaf’s tone had been evasive, unlike it had been during their whole conversation. Isyd had recalled Klara mentioning that he was part of the Faded Jade himself; he must have had some scruples gossiping about his Ringleader. “All I can say is that she’s kind of intense, so it’s better to stay clear from her…”

“Nice to see you back, Söyem!” Aaron saluted gleefully.

She didn’t even glance at him. Instead, the young woman approached Jadwia who stiffened in fear. Delicately, she touched her chin and sighed.

“We could have done something out of you,” Söyem said. “It’s unlucky you first decided to join the Cerulean Feathers, then this man’s Ring. A pity…”

Jadwia blushed and tried to articulate something, but the words escaped her. Isyd bowed his head in her direction.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senior,” he said sincerely.

“The same can’t be said on my part. So, you are the gifted one I heard so much about since returning…” She glanced to the side and noticed his bandaged hand. “I was looking forward to testing your steel but it won’t be fair if you are a cripple.”

“Söyem! How could you be so rude?” a voice cried out from the stairs.

It came from a small woman with long, red, curly hair and huge spectacles that had a hard time remaining on her nose as she rushed down the staircase to stand next to Söyem. Isyd recognized her from their brief encounter during his stay at the Spital. She was Marzena Tchepwa, the Ringleader of the White Flowers.

“You do not call people ‘cripple’!” she sternly said to Söyem with a pointed finger. “And certainly not as a derogatory term!”

“It’s okay, Senior Tchepwa. I don’t take offence to it,” Isyd said.

“Well, I do! It is simply not done! As Seniors, we should be on our best behaviour, certainly now more than ever.”

“Get off me, Marz!” Söyem groaned, swatting away the accusing finger. “You know what I think about your ‘Senior Ethics’…”

Marzena sighed and shook her head in desperation. She turned to Isyd and grinned.

“So, we meet again, Isyd Wybrany. Do not think I have forgotten how you sneaked out of the Spital after I explicitly forbade you to do so…”

“Nice to meet you again, Senior. I guess I have apologized to your mother, but I still had to do so for you. Whatever to make it right…”

“Hmm… What about you leaving this competition for the Tourney… I have already enough on my plate with fighting the rest of them, without having you in it as well!”

Before Isyd could respond, Söyem let out a mocking laugh. “Come on now, Marz! You don’t really think he has a chance, do you?”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t underestimate him, Söyem,” Aaron intervened. “You weren’t here the first semester, remember?”

“I am sorry, but I can’t do that,” Isyd said. “I intend to participate in the Tourney.”

“Are you sure you know what you’re getting into?” Marzena said. “You’re the Ringleader so you’ll have to compete entirely alone for the selection.”

“Yes, I know, thank you for your concern!”

“Don’t get too nice with him, Marz,” Söyem groaned through gritted teeth. “There’s something shady about him!”

“The same could be said about you and yet you don’t hear the rest of us make a fuss about it, Nifritovna,” a man’s voice said from behind Isyd.

They all turned to see a tall young man approaching. He had slick blond hair, striking blue eyes and a smile that seemed permanently smirking. This was Prinse Krovtur, 6th Year and 5th Opening, the Ringleader of the Golden Dew. Of all the Paramount Rings, it was the youngest and was founded by Prinse Krovtur himself. Jozaf had explained to Isyd that the young man was the heir to the Krovtyn Voivodeship, making him one of the most important Pupils in the Academy.

Prinse Krovtur extended a welcoming hand to Isyd and introduced himself.

“I do not believe we have met, Young Isyd. Prinse Krovtur, I’m looking forward to studying with you.”

“All the same, Senior Krovtur.”

Prinse looked around at the little crowd that had formed around the inscription board – meeting in passing the dark glare from Söyem – and his smile deepened.

“Now, I think all of us are intrigued by you, Young Isyd. Certainly, by your decision to join the Tourney. Tell me in all sincerity, you don’t really think you have a chance of winning, do you?”

“I do actually,” Isyd said. “More than that, I am here to make a point.”

“Oh, really? And what could this point be?”

Isyd looked around at the Paramount Ringleaders that surrounded him, at the other Pupils present in the Great Hall who had noticed their little gathering and had approached, and at Jadwia and Oliwer next to him.

“All of you are not nearly as great as you think yourself to be,” he declared. He then pointed to Jadwia and Oliwer. “My Ringmates here, they don’t need to suck up to you or to your stupid Rings to succeed in the Academy, they can do it on their own!”

Prinse turned his head one way, confused on what he was hearing. “You’re saying…”

“I am saying that in a matter of a semester, they’ll have caught up to you, if not surpass you entirely!”

Silence welcomed his words. Everyone was too dumbfounded to say anything. Jadwia was the first to snap out of her shock and put a trembling hand on Isyd’s shoulder.

“Er… Isyd… the joke wasn’t funny…” she tried to say.

But Isyd didn’t recede his words and kept on staring at the Paramount Ringleaders with defiance. Aaron’s smile had frozen into something closer to a grimace, trying to determine whether or not he was joking, Prinse still looked uncertain of what he had just heard, Marzena was looking at him as if worried that something had gone wrong in his head.

Söyem stepped forward in his direction, her right hand going for her left hip as if trying to catch the hilt of a blade that wasn’t there.

“He’s making fun of us! He is insulting us!” she said with anger in her eyes.

“Calm yourself, woman!” a calm voice called from the stairs. “There’s no need for that.”

The newcomer had a carefully chiselled face, with a sharp nose and a sharper jawline. His shoulder-length black hair contrasted with his piercing blue eyes. It emanated from the young man an air that Isyd had learned to be familiar with in the past: this was the look of those who were born in the nobility.

“Who is the second person?” Isyd had asked.

“Hmm…?” Jozaf had retorted, mouth full of pie.

“You said that out of all of them, I should watch for two of them. Who is the second person?”

“Oh! Jonn Drago, of course! 8th Year and 7th Opening, the Ringleader of the Crimson Gold. He’s probably the strongest in the Academy. It’s a toss-up between him and his Second-In-Command, Arael Lwieserce. Most importantly, he’s a Crimson One just like Prinse Krovtur; Jonn Drago is the heir to the Podkarpia Voivodeship! I don’t have to explain what that entails, right?”

Isyd had nodded. If the Kazkan family owned the Barony of Vilriver, then the Drago family was their superior in the hierarchy of the szlachta as holding the Podkarpia Voivodeship. They were part of the Magnates, also called the Crimson Ones, the 16 noble families that ruled the 16 administrative divisions of the Commonwealth. If dealing with the Kazkan family had been annoying, they were nothing in terms of power compared to the Crimson Ones. If nothing else, what had motivated the Baroness to try to monopolize the Blysht in the first place was the hope of entering their ranks…

Jonn Drago arrived at the bottom of the stairs and stared coldly at Isyd for a long moment before slowly offering a hand. Isyd took it, only for Jonn Drago to clasp it firmly. Too firmly.

“I am not offended by your words, Young Isyd…”

“I didn’t mean to offend.”

“… because I know to recognize who is inferior to me.”

His tone wasn’t hostile in the slightest despite his words.

“It is natural for the common man to lash out at his superiors,” Jonn continued calmly. “You say that we are not great, so I suppose I will have to prove you wrong. Hopefully, you will not hold it against me since you are the one who has so brazenly challenged us…”

“No. I hope it will be a chance for all of us to learn. After all, we are all still learning.”

“We are all still learning…” Jonn Drago repeated coldly.

It was then that Isyd felt a familiar presence entering the Great Hall. He didn’t need to turn to recognize the Song of the Grace from Kazian of the Winds. The old Artyst approached the inscription board and took it. He read it once through and his eyes seemed to stop at the bottom of it, surprised by the most recent addition. His eyes narrowed, but he cleared his throat.

“Young Aaron Gwemb, Young Prinse Krovtur, Young Jonn Drago, Young Söyem Nifritovna, Young Henryk Pwom, Young Marzena Tchepwa and Young Isyd Wybrany. Please follow me. We will begin the selection process for the Tourney.”