The Lessons I Refused to Learn

I nearly gave up yesterday.
 
I woke up with the bright sun shining in my face, mildly warm from my thick blankets. I struggled to figure out what I was missing as I played with my father's fang at the base of my neck. Maybe I was asking him for guidance, maybe I was asking for his approval. His views on magic were...understandably mixed. But given that magic was what took him from me, I've grown to understand my conflict. I've made my peace that it may never be resolved if I ever want to be better for myself and my family.
 
When I signed up for the tournament, I initially believed that my purpose was to win. That was my only purpose in any fight. For as long as I lived, every time I had to fight, it was for survival. Nothing else. Sure, I'd spar with my brothers or my friends back home, but it was always practice. People I didn't know, who I had no stake with, they were nothing more than obstacles. Opponents who were in my way of my growth. And I had a respect for them, depending. If they surprised me, I was more excited than scared. The idea of something new and unexpected never frightened me.
 
At least, when it came to physical combat. Magic is an entirely different beast. A devil I knew little about, other than what it had taken from me.
 
I hardly underestimated Cuper, my latest opponent. I knew of his erratic, yet rather intriguing personality. He can be sharp and insensitive one moment and extremely thoughtful the next. His constant offerings of sweet-smelling shampoos were endearing, and despite my insistence that I preferred my own concoctions, I realized after our battle, that I needed to open my narrow mind just a little bit more. Especially after my near defeat.
 
The arena was gorgeous. Despite my not fully recovering from my ordeal with the caretakers, I pushed that aside to focus. I had realized, after seeing the bracket, that I was definitely the underdog here. There were much more insanely talented peers. Incredibly powerful. Incredibly strong in ways I was not. So why was I here? I pledged to use magic solely for my dancing, never to battle. But here I was, breathing in the air of the battle, letting the thick air of anticipation caress my body like a warm blanket. Hilde's new outfit for me at that point was the only thing giving me any comfort. And it hit me.
 
I could not use my strength here.
 
Suddenly, as I saw Cuper's multicolored strands glow iridescently in the breeze, I felt cold. I felt powerless. How was I to beat such wits? If I could use my swords, I would have easily gutted him like a trout. Instead, they hung on each hip like ostentatious adornments. Aoife's gift to me was more useful than this. I fingered it to find some solace and instead found determination. That was surprising. What made it even better was hearing Meagle's cry--the cry of my people, my riders. I smiled as I turned and returned the cry, my accompanying fist pump giving me more strength. Cuper and I exchange our witty retorts, Dart issues his greetings.
 
And we battle.
 
I felt myself freeze in my stance. I could have cried there. But instead, I fought it. My heart warmed and I remembered my lessons in Spell Matrices and how raw power needed to be harnessed to be effective. And my friends helped me with that power. They helped me feel like a hero. I cast my first spell and the heat surged through me almost immediately. I felt like myself again--this is truly magic in its purest form. I stood, my chest puffed out, my body reaching its full height as I stared at Cuper. I shine like a diamond as I felt the familiar Kilgore take over. I grin, knowing my spell would protect me no matter what happened. Then the alchemist responds to my intimidation by drinking a potion. He bloats, as if he was being filled with a thick juice or something more viscous. I respond by howling. I won't let magic defeat me. Not again.
 
It looked like it gave him a thicker skin. I lamented again for a moment that I couldn't just gut him like a buffalo to see what was inside. Then I took a deep breath, and decided to take the offense. I had to refrain from using my instincts; something told me that just acting would bring more trouble than it was worth. So instead of closing the gap and attacking, I used the distance as an advantage. And then I heard Hilde's beautiful voice in the crowd. I glanced behind me and saw her handing out Bardi B. trinkets, banners, megaphones--you name it, she did it. I squinted and thought I saw one of my old Numerology papers being used as one of the toys, but I shrugged it off. I had a battle to win.
 
I move closer to the bloated alchemist. I didn't know how to act yet, but the sound of Cora's vuvuzela blared and then everything came together. I decided to add to the noise. Almost immediately, the intense private training I had with Gulm paid off as I channeled my power into my lightstaff, slamming it so hard into the ground as I casted Thunderwave--a spell near and dear to me and Hilde. I couldn't help but bark loudly with it as the power gave me a shockingly euphoric feeling of ferociousness and strength. The shockwave went throughout the arena. It literally sent Cuper off his feet, and almost immediately he looked unfortunate. He already seemed depressed. He makes a witty remark, acknowledging the damage I've done, yet seemingly unmoved.
 
Great.
 
It was then I noticed an open flask in his hand. I briefly imagine a lab coat instead of the juxtaposed Ioth Academy uniform he is currently wearing as the bottle spewed a massive amount of a very thick liquid from its core. It appeared that my attack had loosened the stopper off of it--I had fallen right into his trap. Grease was everywhere--especially on me. It smelled like bacon. I made a mental note to check the kitchen to see if Hilde or Eva had made extra breakfast this morning and whether the kitchen had run out of bacon. All I knew is that I felt heavy, gross, and momentarily distracted. If I didn't do something, this stuff would literally weigh me down. Not only that, I had to move away from the grease, or I could risk falling. I thought back to when Brax had pulled a prank back on me back home, pouring a bucket of molasses on me as I walked into the door. It took two days to get it all out of my fur without ripping it. I didn't speak to him for a week.
 
So when I felt that this grease was lighter than that, I reverted to my basic instincts. Instead of going prone, I went on all fours and shook my fur violently, sending the grease everywhere and sending Cuper into a panic. I don't think he expected me to react so quickly. And in his defense, neither did I. He screams, "Sorry! I got something that will wash that out!"
 
I couldn't help but smile on the inside. This was a rather fun opponent. He ran and Hilde cheered. I made her favorite muffins after the battle. I stare at Cuper as he lamented that he should have made the liquid more slippery. He made more distance between myself and him. So that's how he was gonna play it. He was just going to use potions and concoctions to affect the environment and me indirectly. Okay. I could work with this. I heard chewing noises behind me. I was getting hungry. I asked Hilde to save an extra crispy one for me.
 
I didn't know what else to do. I tried casting another spell, but it didn't work. I grew frantic. I ended up dodging away from Cuper to anticipate his next move. This proved to be a mistake. Now that he knew my plan, he was ready to counter. I braced myself. He took out another flask and a stream of green smoke came towards me. I didn't even have time to react. The stench overwhelmed me and I immediately felt weak and sick. My mind was in shambles. I nearly fell to my knees, but I held. Cuper said, almost coldly, "You're now poisoned."
 
A deep, guttural feeling of rage and shame came over me as I started to hack and cough, green spittle coming out of my mouth. "Stupid, stupid, stupid," I thought. I had gotten too complacent and paid for it. I tried to cast another spell to mitigate the attack--and failed. I sighed, resigned. I fell to my knees. I didn't want it to be like this. Either way I felt shame--do I give up? Or do I draw out my defeat. I wasn't sure how to win--this was a battle I was not familiar with, and I once again believed my hardheadedness got me in trouble once again. Until:
 
"You're not down yet!!!! Come on, Bardi B.!!!"
 
Hilde. Sweet Hilde. Being someone who looks like me, it's very easy for people to forget how we can sometimes be just as insecure and feel just as small as the tiniest fey. The despair I held in my heart almost crushed me. I am sad to admit that I very nearly conceded. My hand was on my sword, ready to place it on the sand below as a symbol of this. Then I remembered Hilde. And I especially remembered my father. He died so I could live. So I could fight on. If I gave up now, his death would be meaningless. I couldn't let that happen. If I was gonna go down, I'm going down swinging.
 
Weak, I sent another Thunderwave, this time, with a little less feeling. I collapsed. "I'm sorry. I let you all down," I said, thinking it wasn't enough. But to my shock, Cuper couldn't defend. He took the damage. Hilde screams, "Nice move, Kilgore!" but it sounded more like a muffled scream. My head was so clouded and I told her I felt awful. This poison was ruining my concentration.
 
Then she said, "Don't give up on yourself."
 
And therein was my weakness. I lost ONE round and I was already willing to quit. What had this school turned me into? Was it because of my recent experience with the caretakers that wore me down? Was it the reemergence of my trauma that weakened my resolve? Perhaps it was both. Maybe I needed time to heal. Or maybe I needed to stop and think about where I was, in the moment, at this time. The lessons I refused to learn echoed in the back of my head, but this time, I allowed them to come forth.
 
I stood up. I lifted my head high with a small cough. I won't give up on myself.
 
Cuper then pulled out another vial. Chucked it at me, almost casually. It was a small thing, but knowing him, it was probably one of his more powerful potions. I had to dodge this, or this was going to be the beginning of the end. I closed my eyes, and with all my might, I leaped up in the air and the small vial exploded feet behind me. I landed on my hind legs and let out a sharp exhale. There was still time. "Heh," I said, with a small cough.
 
But I was running out of time. It would have been easy for me to just cast Thunderwave one last time and be done with it. That's what the old Kilgore would have done. But the problem was that if I did in my condition, I ran the very real risk of missing or not doing enough damage before Cuper provided another attack I couldn't avoid. I had to somehow distract him in order to make my final attack work. And then it hit me. When I danced, I learned a spell that would allow me to play the proper music in the background in lieu of an instrument. It was very handy for impromptu dance lessons. I quietly muttered to myself and those mutters turned into whispers. Then voices. Then shouts. Then a full stampede. I focused the attack on his right side and also roared along with them in an attempt to confuse him. I rallied the crowd behind me, taking the risk of permanently damaging his hearing; a strategy I regret risking, but I had nothing else to lose.
 
It worked. He started spinning in circles. He didn't know how to handle the cacophony of sounds. I could. I heard them on my excursions every day. Hilde screams "BACON" behind me and I go in for a final attack. I casted Thunderwave one last time and slammed my hands together as I roared at Cuper. Whether I won or not, I was going to give it my all.
 
And just like that, Cuper starts ragdolling across the arena, his body bounding back and forth. I feared I had seriously hurt him. But I kept going. I was going to have a final hurrah.
 
It was final, indeed. Cuper was down. I had won.
 
I couldn't believe it. Dart rushed over with some healing balms and Hilde and Meagle shouted with glee. I smiled and laughed as I saw Antioch rush to Cuper wailing. But at that point, I just wanted to eat. I left with my friends and we had a real feast.
 
It didn't really hit me until after I woke up this morning that I did something. I beat a rather incredible alchemist with my wits. I pulled a miracle out of my heart and it worked. I had proven to myself and hopefully to my father that magic can be used for good. That it didn't have to be just known for death and destruction. I continued to finger the fang while I write this, so I remember what I've done, what I've accomplished. I face the shadowbringer Garnet next. And while I am unsure of my victory, no matter what happens, I know I have come a long way from just being a fighter.
 
I was learning to be a real bard. And I cannot wait to learn more.