Chapter 4: Emergence

Cain's legs were still raw and hurt from the practice the day before, and it wasn't even too strenuous. He would definitely be hurting a lot be the end of this whole escapade, a fate he wasn't quite looking forward too. He had certainly gone too long till now without physical work. He got out of his bunk bed, with the bed below him empty, and Leron nowhere to be seen. Weird, Leron should have been getting ready for class. Perhaps he had left earlier than usual. Going forward with this assumption, Cain walked to the communal bathroom on this floor, and got himself ready for training. He had to make a better impression on Tevin today. He must seem so weak to the guy, who was even going as far as to help him. He wondered how long it would take for the training to crack him down. He was way too lazy and useless to train as much as Tevin would make him to. As he had always been.

Cain remembered very little of his childhood, and not that he even wanted to. All he had was the memories people had told him he had, and small slivers of memory that still remained. The part he did remember, was always being a disappointment. Weak, useless, the cause of everyone's problems. His mother had said that quite a lot, once his father had left. She was the one getting piss drunk every single day, and yet he was still to blame for everyone's problems. His father had left cause he didn't want the responsibility of a baby. His mother drank to escape a reality where he existed. She had overdosed one fateful day because he couldn't take care of anyone when he was ten years old. It had all been his fault. Everyone left, and everyone died, and the living and somewhat thriving take the blame, just because there was noone else to blame. He had promised himself that he would never let one more person drift apart, never let anyone get distressed enough with him to repeat history long past.

The camp had been his shot at escapism, the calm after a tempest, that turned out to just be the calm before yet another storm. How much ever he ran, how much ever hope he tried to keep and grow, he was still the useless, disappointing Cain that could only watch as his mother's mouth foamed and her eyes rolled to the back of her head. He was brought out of his lengthy trance with the sound of the bell, signifying the start of classes for that day. He was scheduled to attend a history today, but he ventured that he might as well just join Tevin in training right away. He picked up his bag, and threw his sleeping clothes into the washing bin on the groundfloor. As he walked to the training camp, he decided to go through the maze in the middle, to pass some of the time. He guessed that Tevin wouldn't even be awake by now, so he might as well find something to do. The maze was the same as always, for the most part, until he reached the fountain. The leaves near the centre were burnt black, the grass in a certain area was cut, as if by a blade. If the worst he could imagine transpired, Dana had found herself opposed to Dimas, that is, 'Buzzkill' (Yes, yes, hadn't realised it). The reason for the scuffle he wouldn't know, but hopefully noone was injured. There was no blood anywhere, which was a good enough omen, considering Dana was involved.

The fountain was still the same as always, static and unchangeable, encircled by everchanging surroundings. It started to be the only sign of hope in the desolate and hopeless place that Training camp no. 63 had become for Cain. However pointless everything seemed, the fountain stood, a bastion of beauty in the camp, standing tall above everything else. It pained Cain to leave it behind, but he did have to go for training sooner or later, so he made his way out of the entrance other than the one he had used to come in. He entered the training camp soon enough, unsurprised that Tevin was nowhere to be seen. After contemplating for a bit, Cain decided that it was better if he warmed up or something, before Tevin showed up. He had not done that yesterday, and look where that got him.

He first stretched a bit, before getting himself situated before the dummy. The highest kick he could get was till the neck, and the lowest punch he could get standing upright was the lower waist. Using these limits as reference points, he struck his target, getting as much flexibility and as much diversity in his attack points. He would punch once at the head, then quickly kick the right knee, well, the part of the support which would act as the right knee if it was an actual person. He would jab at the dummy's neck, then go for the solar plexus next with a straight. He would use a hand blade on the juncture between the shoulder and the neck, then knee the lower waist. At some point, he just began taking out his frustration on the dummy. After he was done, and his hand was red with bruises, he walked to the seats in the corner of the room, and sat down, taking a deep breathe to clear his head. Right next to him was a cabinet filled with weapons. The sight of a sabre filled with some sort of drive to prove himself. He picked it up, and tossed it up, catching it by the steel handle wrapped with cloth. It was well weighted in his hands, with a blunt edge, but a point sharp enough to pierce skin if used powerfully enough. He first jabbed at the dummy, then crashed the blunt edge against the temple. He stabbed the stomach, and pricked the Adam's apple.

"Ooh, feisty. What's gotten into you, eh? I thought we agreed we would work on the basics." Tevin had entered the room, wearing a grey tee and black jeans, with his hands in his pockets.

"I don't think we quite agreed on anything at all, sir. And I was working on my basics before. Just wanted to try out a blade."

"Ah, of course. Well enough. Well, off ya go. Work on your basics. And you know what, find a weapon that suits you today. You will be sparring with me by the end of the day. I can't call myself exceptional at fighting, but I'm good enough with a baton. Also, say, do you know your friend Leron is in the infirmary?"

"What?! Why?" Cain was shocked, even if it made sense. That must have been why Leron was nowhere to be seen today morning.

"I think he calls himself 'Buzzkill', electrocuted your friend. He is fine, of course, just a second degree burn at worst. Your other friend, Dana, was fighting the bully. I was the one who stopped them from injuring each other, or perhaps worse."

"Oh. Well, I suppose Dana is quite hot-blooded, and Buzz is in a league of his own when it comes to having a short temper." So this was why the fountain area had been so ravaged. "Are you sure Leron is fine? Completely?"

"Well, he is fine. You can go meet him. Just don't be too long."

"Sure. Thank you, sir. I'll be back soon." Cain left the sabre on the weapon rack, and walked out of the room. The infirmary was an appendage to the Staff quarters in the camp. It had a few beds, all separated by curtains, and two special emergency and containment rooms. On the third bed from the entrance was Leron, sitting up with his back propped up on the wall, reading his textbook. "Still studying, even when you are injured. I'm both jealous and concerned about your determination."

"I'm not all that injured, mate. Tis a scratch." Leron closed the book, and kept it down.

"Ay, ay, sure. Just a scratch. Looks like it was close to getting infected. I am sure that constitutes just a scratch."

"Aww, look at ya. Worrying about someone. Well, it's fine, truly. Don't you have training to attend, though?"

"Eh, Tevin let me go. I heard he stopped Dana from destroying Buzz."

"Yep, a shame. I would have loved to see him get what's coming for him," Leron chuckled, which brought out some clear discomfort from his injury.

"You sure it's just a scratch? Doesn't seem like just that."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. You should be going for training. Don't worry about me. I'll be completely fine tomorrow. Nurse's words, word for word."

"Uh huh. Well enough. Anything you require, you call me. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure."

"No, no, say it. Did you get that?"

"Yes, Cain, I got it. If I need anything, I'll call ya."

"Good. Take care. Buh bye!"

"Bye, mom. I'll be sure to eat my vegetables." Leron waved him off, with Cain mouthing a 'you better' before leaving. Leron seemed fine enough, Cain thought to himself. Of course, he was hurting, and would never admit it, but he seemed minimally physically hurt. Cain just lamented that he couldn't even help in any way. He couldn't exact revenge, like Dana, or heal him, like Lara could, or even emotionally help him, like Kevin could have. All he could do was watch, reaching out with useless hands that were better turned away. The training facility was now filled with students, and the clamour was deafening. He entered the particular room Tevin had been in, and found him nowhere to be seen. Recalling his words, Cain looked through the weapons in the cabinet to find some prospects to use in his fight. There was the sabre, which he was pretty good with, though not half as good as someone like Dana. There was a spear, which would have been bulky and cumbersome in a duel. The club, which was a good option, though quite hard to swing around. There were some dart, taser and pressure guns that he didn't know if they were allowed or not in a training fight. Finally, there was a metal bullwhip, with a small spiky maze at its end, not spiky enough to do damage, though it was all powerful enough to give a person a concussion if swung hard. Thankfully, it was too heavy to swing around in the first place.

Cain finally decided on choosing between the sabre and the club. He picked up the club, and swung it around. Whenever he struck the dummy, it made the whole thing shake. It was easily strong enough to kill someone, and would give most about everyone a concussion when hit. Even then, it was too unreliable to use, when compared to a sword. He picked up the blade, and swung it around next, with the club still in his left hand. After setting down the club, he practised his upstrokes and downstrokes, and his slashing, cutting through the air fast enough to make a sound. He started slashing the dummy, leaving tears on the cloth whenever the tip of the sword hit the cover. Yes, this seemed like the weapon to use in a fight. He couldn't hope to ever compete against Dana, but he was surely good enough to go toe-to-toe with Tevin. Surely.

"There you are," Tevin had entered the room. "I've been looking for you for a while. Should have expected to see you here." He sat down on the seats, and set down two complete protection training suits, usually issued for competitions and scheduled duels. They were mostly black, with white fluorescent strips on the arms and legs. There was a normal fencing helmet for the head, with bulletproof glasses on the slit. Suits, especially those issued for contests, would also have a camera attached to the helmet. This one didn't have that accessory. The suit was insulated, and thick enough to bring any knifepoint to a dead stop.

"We using those things? Nice." Cain felt the suit nearer to him. The material was soft enough to be comfortable, but hard enough to be surely somewhat bulletproof.

"Yep, it was easy enough to get them from the office, when I told them who I was. So, I just got em. Better to be safe than sorry."

"Are we sparring now then?"

"We'll start in an hour. Practise till then. Also, how is Leron? I met him for a moment while searching for you, but I didn't stick around too long."

"Leron's fine. Atleast, he says he is. Can't really believe him, but can't do anything about it either ways."

"Yep, unfortunate. Well enough then. Go for practise. You are using the sabre, I take it?" Cain nodded in response, and Tevin continued, "Good enough, be ready. You have to at least hold your own against me. Got that?"

"Yep, yeah, I know. I'll be off. Bye." With a wave, Cain walked to the dummy. He tossed the sword up, and caught it with his right hand, swinging it at the dummy. It rang across the temple, as he bent down to pierce the inner thigh. With that first attack, he began attacking for about half an hour, being careful not to use too much of his energy.

When it was over, Tevin spoke up, "Well, that's enough. Time for a spar. I hope you are ready." He picked up the baton next to him, and tossed the training suit at Cain. Cain put it on, setting the helmet on his head. It was bulky and somewhat heavy, but manoeuvrable enough, and gave protection in the face of a tough fight. Both of them took their place on the match area. Tevin had the baton in his left hand, swinging it around fast enough to bring out the electric spikes. Cain kept his sabre in his right, resting the false edge on his left palm, keeping a somewhat bent posture. "Start!" shouted Tevin, bringing his baton down on Cain's left shoulder. Cain dodged, getting grazed instead, and countered with a blow to Tevin's left waist. Tevin braced for impact, and winced with the pain, smashing the baton on Cain's thigh in reflex. The blow brought Cain down to the ground, but he swung upwards to counter. His blade was turned away by the rod, with it leaving his hands to clatter on the floor.

Tevin waited a moment, to let Cain get his weapon back up, and to also rest himself after the blow to his waist. Once Cain had his sword in hand, the fight resumed. With the pain and him getting disarmed already, Cain had stopped thinking before hitting, instead just swinging his blade around and round to try and get a clean hit. All the practice he had done, all the times he had hit that goddamn training dummy, everything left his mind. All that was left was the glint of the moving sword, and his opponent in front of him. Try as he might, the moment he had lost his focus, he had already lost the fight, seeing that he was duelling an experienced agent. He would swing at the head, and Tevin would go down to get a blow on the knee. Cain would try attacking the chest, and Tevin would rush closer to him, to both dodge the attack and effectively counter. All Cain could do was take a beating, not able to get a single hit in.

Tevin suddenly stopped, and just walked away. "Get yourself back into focus. Think straight. You are too undisciplined in your fighting right now."

Cain sat down on the ground, keeping his sabre down, "Yeah, I know. Sorry, I'm being a disappointment."

"Hardly. Everyone loses their focus in a fight. You just gotta power through. Focus on your opponent's movements, and your weapon's position. When you can meet, bring the sword down, and attack. Your first attack on my waist was great, so I'm sure you can do well."

"I hope so. Well, I think I'm ready to fight again." Cain picked up his sword. Tevin nodded, and stood up, grabbing a hold of his baton. Cain was yet to be hit by the electric spikes of the baton, thankfully. Of course, the suit inflation would lead to minimal electrocution, but he guessed the spikes would hurt like hell either way. He got up, and swung his sword around, feeling its weight on his hand. He tried to focus, but couldn't. His head was filled with too many pointless thoughts for him to clear it, and focus only on the fight. Yet again he was reminded how useless he actually was, not even being able to fight well for more than a fleeting moment. His hands and blows were useless when he couldn't even decide where to take them, and his big movements were useless if he couldn't make them swift enough to do damage. Even then, he got his sword up, ready to give the match another go. Tevin got his baton up too, his waist clearly hurting, judging by the way he was holding himself.

With a whistle on Tevin's part, the duel resumed. Cain swung his sword, fast enough to hit Tevin's right cheek and left shoulder in quick succession. Tevin returned with a feint, and then an actual hit to the left arm. He made way for another hit, aiming at Cain's right shoulder, which was blocked by the sword striking it right on. While their weapons where linked together, Cain aimed a jab at Tevin's stomach, getting the punch in. Tevin staggered back, breathless for a moment. He sprinted towards Cain, swinging his baton fast enough to get the spikes out, and piercing his opponent near the solar plexus. The blow left Cain completely breathless and reeling. He staggered back, and used all his energy to not let himself fall down yet again. Tevin continued hitting him, blow by blow, every hit finding him even more weak, another tick closer to his eventual failure. It took all his power to just breathe and stand upright, and he stopped trying to dodge or protect himself from the blows. Here he was, yet again, failing, like he always did. If only he could get one more punch in, one more cut in. Instead, he closed his eyes, getting ready to admit defeat. Tevin was about to hit him again, hard, with a big swing, and he tried his best to brace for impact, hearing a massive crash. Weirdly enough, the blow didn't hurt much, as he finally fell down, well and truly a failure. He rolled his body, to face and Tevin, and opened his eyes to what he assumed would be extreme disappointment. Instead, what he found was Tevin crashed into the room's wall, making a visible dent. His clothes were burnt at places, letting his skin show, burnt a sickly black. Cain didn't have the energy to consider what had caused the disaster, as he rolled to face upwards, greeted by a huge hand-like thing, blazing like a torch. It was in the shape of a palm and fingers, vertically above Cain, like a helping hand from God himself reaching out to get him back up.