Chapter 7: Guard

My training began in earnest once Uncha departed and it became clear the Jiyo had no interest in me. Standard Shield doctrine dictated that we wait until the last moment to foil the plans of an attacker. In fact, for many sponsors, they erected dummy parichas covering an entire field of view behind or between audience positions—because a public venue is where these sponsors will be most vulnerable—and only a handful would be occupied by real Shields. These positions also rotated between audiences, so as not to give attackers any advantage. In the event of an attack, Shields were encouraged to wait until the attackers plans became clear, and then in the space of a hearbeat or two, decide where to intervene. By accident of fate, and in alignment with my studies at the academy library, my cursed stamina-less vessel wasn’t of any importance here. In fact, nobody even noticed it.

And I excelled at all the mock bouts. The scenarios were set up in simulated audience rooms, cramped throne quarters, in open air venues, and in closed seating theatres. In almost every case, I could predict the attacker’s vectors in advance and then move to counter. And but for a few exceptions, I survived encounters too. I noticed that a few of the teachers were impressed by how I could read the prann, and fewer still came to really like me for how I survived seemingly impossible simulations.

Then one day, the Instructor called me to her room again. “Sit, Utore,” she began. “I have your full file from the academy before me.” My countenance must have given something away, because she continued. “It has nothing against you. To be fair, you have a strong handicap. But for a Shield, it might as well have been a godsend gift. You have honed your control skills to excellence and your instructors are full of praise. And as a Shield, you’ll never be a frontline fighter. You have the potential, if the gods will it, to be really good at this vocation.”

“Thank you, Instructor,” I dutifully replied.

“We have nothing more to teach you. The rest you can gain only from experience. I have a first assignment for you.” and my heart started beating faster. “But before that, there is one matter we have to discuss. Do you know what a prann stone does?”

I hadn’t been expecting that from her. I shook my head no.

“The prann stone is like a loham—a magnet—but for prann. Somehow, and we have yet to figure out how, the stone attracts the prann to itself. But what is unique is that in the hands of a trained user, it can lend its strength and make somebody ten times stronger.”

Thirty, perhaps thirty five heartbeats strong, I mentally calculated. With that much amount of stamina, I could...

“Of course, you have already chosen your vocation.” The Instructor continued glibly. “And I do not know how to train a prann stone user. You should know this, so I’ll speak plain. Have you wondered why the Jiyo didn’t claim you?”

In fact I had. “The Jiyo possibly expects you to die wearing that stone.” he continued. “In which case, it reverts its loyalty to the previous owner.”

I was confused, and it must have shown. Reverts its loyalty? “The prann stone,”, she continued, “or the necklace of the Blessed as it’s more formally called, can only be given from one prann user to the next. Usually, they retain it within families, as a badge of honor and of course, a distinct advantage in combat. A bearer can never be coerced to give the stone to another, for it said that in that instance, the next bearer will be cursed by the stone forever.”

“So they are expecting me to die?” I asked.

“Yes, Utore. I want you to prove them wrong.” and then she dismissed me.

My first assignment was back down in the south. It took me four weeks of travel to reach there, and I passed through familiar lands on the way. I could have made a small detour to visit father and mother, but I chose not to. There was nothing for me there now.