“The tournament, ladies and gentlemen,” Doctor Matei addressed the class. “The time to show what you have learnt during this class. To prove your worth. I expect everyone to do their absolute best. Now, let’s get on with it.”
***
During light sparring, everyone was tremendously motivated. This led to quite a lot of frustration as well.
“I just don’t know how you do it, Beccs,” Lynn said, lying on the grass and out of breath. I stepped forward and pulled her back up again.
“I don’t know. It just… just came to me naturally. I’ve been reading up quite a lot on technique, though. Doctor Yurasov showed me the library section. They’ve got an endless amount of books on combat.”
Vanessa was fighting next to me with a guy I only knew from sight. He was losing badly, and I could see that Vanessa had been training hard, too. I’d read enough to see that her flourishing style, which matched her arrogant demeanour and haughty good looks, was a psychological tactic to put the opponent off-guard. It was certainly working now. She quickly caught him with a stab right in the stomach. We were only using practice weapons, of course, but his yell told me that her thrust had the force of a normal blow. He supported himself on one knee, trying to catch his breath.
“Watch out, Flynn. I’ve got worse in store for you,” Vanessa said slyly, her blonde hair dancing ominously in the soft morning breeze.
“Like last time, you mean?” I said.
“You got lucky once, Flynn. Beginner’s luck. You won’t be so lucky next time, I’ll see to that.”
Her eyes flashed with malice. At that moment, her sparring partner got up, gingerly rubbing his stomach. As if to show off her determination, she aimed a blow right to his head, which he was just about to parry, and they continued fighting.
***
For the coming weeks, the tournament was all that occupied my mind. I won’t deny that Vanessa got under my skin, that I hated her arrogant face with a passion. And I was determined to prove that it hadn’t just been ‘beginner’s luck’. There was a small voice at the back of my mind that seemed to agree, a voice I tried to push away as hard as possible. I was determined that next time, at the tournament, I would show her and the rest of the castle that I didn’t need luck to beat her.
During my detention the next day in the library, some of these worries must have shown on my face whilst I was pouring over a complicated treatise from the 16th century, for Doctor Yurasov approached me with a concerned look.
“I hope everything is alright, Miss Flynn. I’ve never seen you so concerned since the first day when I told you that you were a vampire,” he said.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just the tournament. It’s next week.”
“I understand. I fought quite a number of tournaments in my youth, you know.”
“You did?” I said.
“Yes,” he said, chuckling. “I know, very hard to believe for such an old vampire like me.”
“Sorry, I didn’t want to…”
“That’s quite alright, Miss Flynn. Do not worry. Maybe I can show you a move or two. I always found practice more enlightening than reading these old tomes.”
“Thanks, that would be great, Doctor,” I said.
***
After the library closed, we moved to the upper floor. Doctor Yurasov hadn’t been exaggerating. The view was incredible.
“A good panorama to hone your skills, I think,” said Doctor Yurasov, wheezing slightly from the steep climb. “Wait here please, Miss Flynn. I will get the sparring rapiers.”
Sparring with Doctor Yurasov felt strange at first, though I quickly learnt not to hold back. He really was an excellent swordsman, better perhaps even than Doctor Matei.
“You really are very good, Miss Flynn,” he said, after he had landed an elegant blow on my wrist, which would have easily sliced through it with a normal blade.
“Except that you’ve beaten me every time,” I said, slightly disgruntled. I knew that I still had an enormous amount to learn.
“You must not think like that,” he said. “Only those who are already defeated think in those terms. Focus your mind on the fight and the opponent, on the present. You must observe closely. Do not waste your time doubting your own skills.”
Doctor Yurasov was right, of course, though I couldn’t shake my emotions so easily. I picked myself up again and began anew.
His technique was close to perfection. He was an artist with the blade, though I noticed that his reaction times were sometimes a little off, a bit too slow when the pace picked up unexpectedly. I had been attacking mostly, falling victim to his clever counter-attacks.
At the end of training, we shook hands. I hadn’t landed a single blow on him, but he seemed very pleased with me.
“I look forward to your next detention,” he said. “I must say, you’re bringing back to old days. You can be proud, Miss Flynn.”
“I didn’t even graze a hair,” I said, rather dejected.
Doctor Yurasov shook his head violently, like a horse that wishes to rid itself of flies in the summer.
“The first lesson, Miss Flynn, is that you are your worst enemy. It is a cliché, perhaps. But that doesn’t make it less true. You must discipline your thoughts. Self-analysis in defeat is vital. Otherwise you will simply remain mediocre because you are too proud to learn from your mistakes. Self-doubt, however, will lead only to defeat and collapse. That is a lesson not only for the swordsman, but for all aspects of life, Miss Flynn.”
He looked fiercely at me, a fire burning in his eyes I had never seen there before. But I had understood what he meant. I nodded and thanked him for the training session. There was certainly a lot I wanted to improve on, first and foremost my mindset.
***
Back in the common room, I sat in one of the comfortable chairs by the fireplace. It was late October, and the weather was already quite cold, especially at night. Lynn was nowhere to be found, so I decided to go over the day’s sparring in my mind. I was absolutely determined to defeat Vanessa during the tournament.
I reached into my pocket and took out the small silver figurine. At first, I had simply enjoyed the fuzzy feeling in my fingers. But it had become something of a symbol. A reminder of my determination, one that I could carry around with me everywhere.
My fingers would get numb after a while of absent-mindedly caressing it, so I placed it down on the table. The common room was emptying quickly as people went to bed. Somehow, I didn’t feel tired at all. There was a keen nervousness that held me awake.
***
I hardly saw Lynn in the following days, with the tournament coming up and classes being cancelled specifically for the purpose of giving the participants more time to train, I hardly saw her at all, in fact. But it was more than that, somehow. I had the impression that she was avoiding me – as far as that was possible when living together in one room. I knew something was bugging her. At first, I thought it was something I had done, though I couldn’t for the life of me think what it was. But it was all very unlike Lynn. She usually just told me if something bothered her. As soon as the tournament was over, I told myself, I’d get to the bottom of it. I only hoped that she wasn’t in any serious trouble.
Training with Doctor Yurasov continued, and I was really glad that it did. His eagle eye for any weakness of mine was as frustrating as it was instructive.
“You must pay attention to your feet, Miss Flynn,” he had told me last time. “Positioning and balance are key.”
I had learned the basics of positioning in Doctor Matei’s class, though it was clear from Doctor Yurasov’s private lessons that I had far from mastered the concept.
With only a few days left before the tournament, which was to take place on Halloween, my nerves were stretched to breaking point. I always had had a rather erratic eating behaviour, but my stomach had refused to take anything except for the blood substitute. Something, I was sure, Doctor Yurasov would have strongly disapproved of.
***
Two days before the tournament, I went to the – now very familiar – upper floor of the library for the last time.
Doctor Yurasov, who was already waiting, greeted me with his usual enigmatic smile.
“Very good to see you, Miss Flynn. Here, take your weapon.”
We had been training with real – albeit blunt – weapons and protective gear for some time now.
The sparring was exhausting but exhilarating at the same time. Every night, I had tried to let all the lessons of the day sink into my mind. For hours on end, I had mulled over weapons and combat treatises, old and new, until the common room emptied of students. Lynn, who seemed to be just as occupied, regularly sneaked into our dormitory, and woke up the next morning with even greater bags under her eyes than I had these days.
Now, it was my chance to put all that knowledge into practice for the last time before the tournament. Doctor Yurasov would briefly pause, to correct a minor detail here and there, but otherwise seemed very pleased.
When I parried one of his elaborate attacking combinations and landed a light but decisive blow on his chest, he would egg me on.
“Be unrelenting, Miss Flynn,” he would say then. “A foe in the real world will not give up. They don’t count points.”
We fought well into the night until Doctor Yurasov insisted that I get some rest.
“Tomorrow, you must not fight. Give your body some rest. Take a walk in the grounds, but nothing more. Eat well but not excessively. I will see you tomorrow at the tournament, Miss Flynn.”
I thanked him one last time for everything that he had done for me. Whatever the outcome during the tournament, I was grateful.