Chương 209: Chapter 230: Spectating

Considering how fencing has been present in my life almost from the beginning, you'd think I'd know something about it. My father had an instructor and kept in practice, my brother started taking lessons early, one of my love interests is the captain of our school's team. I think even Yheta has trained in swordsmanship. I've played as Nathan on the fencing team several times, particularly when I played him classed as a swashbuckler. It has felt like fencing has always been in the same house but in another room.

And I don't actually believe that the game devs know a damn thing about fencing either, but what I'm seeing here today looks fairly legitimate. We showed up a little early and packed in some nice seats at the middle of the viewing risers. There was a lot of terminology but this was not a very major event, wrong part of the season. It did allow progression to a more major tournament in the future that Thumper was already qualified for, so she did not have a lot of pressure on her.

As I understood it, her presence here was partly for fun and recognition, but did have some pragmatic aspects. Such as the prize money, and the chance to observe and train against the competition for those later tournaments, and also to block spots in the later tournaments and get herself seeded to later brackets.

"And that part is important," I was saying to Bruce, "because it means that when she does compete she'll be fresher and more rested, but also that she drops the chance that she'll be accidentally knocked out in early rounds by a fluke chance against a lesser competitor. Even if she's the best, accidents can happen and there's never a guaranteed win. If you can get seeded up the pyramid that's a huge deal just because it takes away a lot of the cumulative chances of an upset loss."

"You just said that you don't know a damn thing about fencing," Bruce grumbled.

"So now are you just making up fencing facts to mess with me?"

"Oh, I am woefully ignorant about fencing," I admitted.

"But I do know about bracket tournament organization, and by this time next year you'd better as well. Since you two will be taking over the Wendy Harigold Memorial All-Points Eggvitational Spoon Race Tournament." He was surprised.

"Huh. You know I had forgotten about that. You have, in your own way, actually organized full sporting event competitions, haven't you?"

"Dozens,": I admitted.

"The first few were improvised, but once people started to come to expect that I'd be organizing the games I had to start stepping up. At first it was just a dozen kids running around a playroom, but by ten or eleven the production value was actually- oh! THUMPER!" I leaped up and waved my arms over my head. Bruce clapped his hands over his ears but it did little good. My new lion affinity lets me get loud. Bold-font loud, which I never could do before.

People twenty feet away on the risers leaned back away from my shout. I had all eyes on me, but I only had eyes for one. Sepecca Kuritan, ranked fencer representing Hearstwhile Academy, lit up with a grin as honest and uncomplicated as any I've seen. She waved back, then switched hands and gave me some kind of salute with her sword. I beamed back, and restrained the urge to shout again or do anything else demonstrative. Lots of people here. Can't afford to get too excited and make an ass of myself.

Even if seeing Thumper really is very corrosive to my self-control and propriety. I was surprised for a moment that the sword she carried was not the same rapier that she had brought to Uchislowi, but almost immediately I realized that you don't use the same weapon to murder monsters as you bring to a sporting competition. After all, she's not here to murder the other contestants. Not literally. Just as a sports metaphor.

Most times when a sports commentator shouts about someone being murdered out there, it's a hyperbolic way to say "defeated". I'm the exception to the rule there, they call me Killer because of the courts finding I was justified in committing a lot of homicide. No Killers here, just Thumper. This is sword-fighting, not something really bloodthirsty like field sports. I sat back down, suddenly full of butterflies.

Bruce opened his mouth to chastise me but Petty beat him to it, leaning past him to grab me by the shoulder.

"Cousin Natalie," Petunia said in a low, level, but very tense voice.

"I'll ask kindly that you not do that again. Bruce has been asked not to do anything disruptive and impulsive. Let's you and I make it easy on him, yes?" So I noticed that a lot of people were glaring at me. I accepted my well-earned scolding.

"Right. Sorry, that was impulsive and thoughtless. I'll do better." First, verbalize the apology. Second, show that you understand why the apology was necessary. Third, pledge better behavior. Fourth, improve your behavior. So, no more lion's roar shouting for me. I flushed that essence out and instead mustered the eagle so I could see details at range. My first time trying this out, and I was surprised.

It's not just like watching through binoculars, I have the field of vision like regular eyesight but the ability to snap a sharp focus on anything in my front arc in an instant. Binocular use their optics to bring distant things closer at the expense of field of vision and depth of field, but eagle-eyes instead just work better. I didn't see things closer, I saw them clearer. Edges were sharper, movements were easier to track, and even made it easier to predict what the next step of a movement would be.

As it turns out, the adaptations to track a rabbit running a defensive pattern in a field is pretty much the same adaptations to see exactly what is going on in a fast-paced fencing match. This is actually pretty great, I said to myself. I should have gotten this years ago. But then I remembered that I had tried to get this years ago. I collected eagle and hawk feathers for years, kept them in that tin box at my bedside to absorb with my untethered essence. And I had only gotten a few percentages from it.

Eventually I got frustrated and got rid of them to make room for other promising samples. But I have really tried to get eagle's affinity before, and failed. So why did this one succeed? Why did the horse fail? What is the missing variable? This is something I really want to have figured out before I reach the Fire Temple. None of the other competitors here were from the Academy. Why would they be? They know that Thumper is competing.

If they want to get their ass kicked by her they can find her any day of the week. I might not be entirely objective about this matter, but Thumper is just that good. The equipment manager from the school was here, and she had a bag of swords and towels and water bottles and struggled to keep up.

The first hour was slow, we sat around mostly while people moved around on the tournament floor and got everything ready because whoever was in charge of this tournament did not operate with the sort of precision and preparation that I hold as hallmarks. If you're not meticulously on top of every detail right to the very last moment, any public event will always run late. This one was running late. I kept Bruce and Petty entertained by going through our printed program and explaining as much as I could.

I can't tell a saber from an epee, but just from the bracketing I can tell the saber is a much faster and more decisive competition because it's double-elimination instead of single. This moved to Bruce explaining the difference between saber and epee to me, with Petty periodically reminding him to be nice. Despite her harsh and stern warning in the carriage, she was being pretty patient with his shortcomings. He was trying, but I could tell his hangover wasn't helping him.

I made him drink water and ordered him a handpie from the concession vendor, and by the time the first swords crossed he was feeling a bit better. And that was when I was glad that I had my eagle's eyes now. Last week I would have needed to channel levin energy to keep up with what was going on. This action was fast. Each round seemed largely the same, ten to thirty seconds of them advancing or retreating, just out of reach of each other, and then one step too close and klaklaklack a point is scored.

Or in the case of epee, one or two points. Or for saber, there could be like five points traded around on each clash. I could follow it because my vision was fine-tuned for small fast movements at a distance, the other two just clapped when everyone else clapped. If it weren't for the body language of each competitor as they moved back to their starting positions, we'd never know who had won. Someone needs to introduce the fencing community to scoreboards, it seems. So where was my Thumper? Everywhere.

She was competing in all three events: foil, epee and saber. And for each of them she was showing very different techniques and postures. In one match she is blocking and retreating against someone who is doing the same, and then when she's done she moves to a different lane and attacks with wild flurries of blows, and then to the third lane where everything is decided with a single lightning-fast extended lunge.

It seemed like each event had different rules that rewarded different strategies, because most people in those three areas seemed to gravitate to the same movements. But in every case, Thumper did it better. We were her dedicated cheering section, shouting and whooping at her wins. Fortunately fencing is not golf, and there is no stigma against boisterous cheering.

And the longer the tournaments went on the more of the crowd was cheering her along with us- she was not the only person competing in multiple events but she was the only one who stayed in all of them. Several people seemed to have cross-registered just to have a backup if they needed it. But Thumper stayed in, round after round, win after win. There was a certain turning point, and it coincided with lunch in a manner I did not believe had anything to do with coincidence.

This event may have been better orchestrated than I gave it credit for. I had been watching the wrong signals, apparently. There was an intermission to rearrange the competition floor, and we all headed for the lobby to stand in line for snacks. We, in this context, refers to not just the spectators- everyone that was not rearranging the floor for the next events came out for lunch. Most of the competitors arrived dressed in their street clothes, having been eliminated and changed out of their padded garb.

Some I suppose had left already, with no reason to stay, but some apparently were supporting friends or just didn't have a ride lined up until later. So most of us were spectators dressed for the day, some were eliminated fencers who wore clean pressed clothes but had the mussed hair and flushed faces of athletic activity, and some were still in competition white, such as the big woman bearing down on us right now. Thumper barged into me with her arms collapsing over my shoulders, laughing as she squeezed.

I laughed back, and I got my arms around her and pressed back, but she still got me up off my feet. Bruce seemed very amused to see me getting manhandled like that. So, I waited out the embrace, then introduced them.

"Cousin Petty, Cousin Bruce, this is Sepecca Kuritan, captain of my school's fencing team. Thumper, I bring you Lady Petunia Harigold and Lord Bruce Harigold." Then I stepped back and gave her a nod. Bruce was less amused to get manhandled himself, but he did not flinch away from her hold and hugged her back.

"Natalie's told me about you both!" Thumper said with great cheer. She's been cleaning up in all three divisions and she is in a great mood. She moved to a hug with Petunia, and there she met her match. Finally, two of these treetop women in my life that give me a complex about my height have come face-to-face. Petty is taller but Thumper is the stronger of these two, and- well, they hugged it out without it looking like the grappling match I'd expected. Okay, they're both being nice.

That's definitely a better outcome than I expected.

"I think you cracked my back," Bruce complained, twisting from side to side.

"You probably deserved it," Thumper bantered, unconcerned. Petty laughed as she turned loose.

"Natalie really did tell you about us."

"She did not mention that her whole family is huggers," Thumper said, stepping back and planting her hands on her hips.

"I was sure I had," I said in my defense.

"Anyway, let's get something to eat." I had expected that Thumper would get something light so as not to weigh her down in the next events, just a light snack to keep her energy up. Instead she went in for some serious carb-loading, and when I told her I was paying she went back for seconds. Apparently fencing uses a lot of energy when you do it the way she does. We found a corner of the lobby between a potted plant and a window, and we scarfed down filled pastry-pies while we chatted.

Thumper gushed thanks to my cousins for agreeing to come along, she had not expected me to invite family to this event but she was immediately glad I had. My face made it clear how relieved I was- when she invited me to this I had kinda got the impression that this was a sort-of date. You know, the kind where I watch from the grandstands while she's doing exciting stuff. Which did not really seem to necessarily be a one-on-one date, but sometimes I misread things.

And since I want to do more things with my family these days I had invited them to the only event in my week that I could bring them along for. And I was especially glad for that today, because yesterday I was strongly reminded how much I don't like being on my own. Apparently Thumper was treating this as the kind of date where I've introduced her to my closest family members.

Which was not a view that I had realized on my own, but when I do see it from that perspective, suddenly this looks a lot more intimate than just showing up on my own. They're all chatting cheerfully while I'm coming to this realization, and I feel my face heat up, sweat prickling my scalp. Sometimes I don't recognize all the signals I might be sending. I go really quiet and listen to them all banter while I engross myself in an overcooked turnover.

Bruce is honoring his word to behave himself and is surprisingly gracious to the fencing captain, to my great relief. Petunia is asking questions about fencing, he's asking questions about her leadership role. I'm just trying not to jinx it. The quest, Turnabout Tournament, seemed to have implied that I should meet her on her own terms: just as she had sat and cheered for me in my games, I should sit and cheer for her in hers.

I had been apprehensive about deviating from that and inviting others, but now I'm glad I listened to my instincts instead of my qualms. Maybe that's something to take forward. I've had a lot of energy put into trying not to misstep. But, if the quests are made for me the way Nathan's are made for him, then things like this should only have a couple of major decisions and maybe a skill challenge at some point. In this case, probably the stamina requirements to get all of my goals for the day accomplished.

But I've been acting like these quests are a tightrope that I have to make sure I get every detail right, have to prepare and overthink everything. More and more it feels like the actions and conversations that come naturally to me are the right ones. Or, possibly, I just need to concentrate on dating as if I'm really invested in love interests as romance partners. Earnest and empathetic, all that. And yes I know that all of this sounds very obvious when I just say it plainly like that.

But "trust your instincts the quests are tailored to your methods" sounds very obvious but it is really just another way to say "the future is going to bend itself in your favor if you let it", and frankly that is not only so antithetical to every life lesson I've ever picked up, and everything I know about the game, it is also the polar opposite of everything I've ever seen in my own luck. Over and over, the world has not rewarded me trusting in the future or taking leaps of faith.

I've only come out on top by being proactive and prepared. Or, hell, maybe this is just working out because Thumper likes me. This isn't like one axis of ambiguity, it's several of them. How do the factors balance? What is the important factor? What do I trust in? And what is going to blow up in my face next time? A chime rang, and Thumper gave me another hug, gentler but warmer, and ran off to take her place while we filed to our seats. I was still feeling kind of quiet, but Bruce felt like talking.

"Oh, Natalie, you are smitten aren't you?" he chuckled. Petty nudged him with her elbow. It made an unladylike thwack.

"Behave." But, she was grinning at me too. Whole damn world is laughing at my expense. This really is just a second pass through high school. The competition space had been rearranged during the break. Instead of just packing in as many lanes as possible to push through the early bouts, they now had three lanes set up for maximum visibility. One set of judges at each lane, and every spectator on each round. One lane for foil, one for epee, one for saber.

And at any time, one of them was fighting, one lane was handling setup and safety gear, and one was trading the past fencers for the next set. I glanced at my brackets, and chuckled.

"Uh oh."

"What?" Bruce nudged.

"If I'm reading this program correctly-""Which so far you have-" he interrupted.

"-then the quarter-final round will be interesting to watch." We watched our friend, who moved about almost constantly, hardly holding still even when she was off the match, stopping to get water, to secure her helmet, trading equipment, conferring with the Academy's manager, getting in position, checking scores, chalking her hands, whatever. Her matches were getting more difficult, judging from the scores. She was still winning consistently, but they weren't the blowout scores of the first half.

It seemed like each bout got closer to an even match. Either they were getting better, or she was getting tired. More and more I understood why she was carb-loading at lunch. I could see the organizers scrambling in the wings, they had finally seen what I saw. But there were too many moving parts here, and too much momentum to stop. if they tried switching things right now, it would throw off the smooth operation for the whole tournament.

They were fretting about helplessly, right up until the start of the quarterfinal round. At the foil round Thumper saluted her opponent and the judge threw her handkerchief. She found her strong forward-pressure footing. The epee lane was stalled out, only one competitor in place, getting his equipment checked out by the judge there. At the saber lane, two fencers were walking away while only one moved to replace them. Foil bouts move fast, and Thumper moves faster.

Her aggressive movements were startling even in a sport of aggressive advancement, and the touches rang up fast. Her opponent often barely had time to take the starting line again before the Academy captain was again scoring a point. After the second round, she was moving with rhythm. The round starts, that strong leading foot hits, the sword scores. Boom clack! The judge flung her arms up and blew the whistle, the match was decided.

All eyes moved to the epee stage and Thumper moved with them, tossing her foil to the equipment manager and catching the epee tossed back in return. She caught the sword, swished twice to adjust herself to the weight, and struck her line. The judge raised the handkerchief and threw it, and her second match started while her defeated foil opponent was still taking off his helmet. Boom clack! Epee moves slower, the fighters are more cautious.

The target zones are bigger and you can give up points on a sacrifice, so precision counts more than speed. It did not matter. The epee competitor seemed baffled by her style, her speed. She did not lunge like the foil, she turned her sword like the epee should but did it so fast that normal eyes would not know. She was still on the same rhythm, and I chortled gleefully as she racked up points, fast.

The saber lane had her next opponent, staring at her in disbelief while the judge there double-checked straps, pads and helmet. The foil lane was just now clear and Thumper was half-done with the epee. Her opponent backed off, frustrated by the speed of this match, and he turned to double-check the sigils printed on the wall to assure no magic was used in the match. The sigils were unlit, there was no trick here. Thumper's just that good.

When she exchanged epee for saber after a swift decisive win, the whole room howled for her, cheers echoing. And it would have been appropriately epic if she had cleared the saber round just as easily, but unfortunately the exhaustion was real, the opponent was good, and every winning streak ends somewhere. But Thumper got more applause for that loss than anyone else got for any of their wins all day. She trophied with foil and showed with epee, made the honorable mention list in saber. Me?

I was just proud to be there.