Canaan Club - 26. Chapter 26

The next day, before the second half of tryouts began, the four first-years, Lindsay, and the other humans gathered for breakfast in the main building cafeteria.

“He was a bumbling idiot,” Rafe retold the events of last night as he and Andre shared a couple of twinkies. “I mean, more so than usual.”

Lindsay looked up from fiddling with her WardNav and blew out a breath laced with both approval and disappointment. “If he were human, his future would be clear. Potbelly, permanent five o’clock shadow, and beer bottles littering his trailer floor. Honestly, you probably should have left him to drown in his own puke.”

“I second that,” Rudy agreed loudly, his mouth full of waffles. “Better yet, you could have sacrificed him to whatever spirits were haunting the place.”

Sam glared at her brother next to her, silently scolding him over talking with his mouth full.

“That’s what I’ve been saying, but no…” Rafe rolled his eyes as he glanced at Andre, putting all the blame on the omé.

The young wolf just smiled back innocently, popping a piece of a twinkie in his mouth. “You’re welcome, Rafe’s conscience.”

“You owe me double time. I’m gonna get you to start working out.”

“As long as I get to run at that moving machine thing. What do you call it? The treadmill?”

The blond superhuman grinned and shook his head. “Of course, you’d like that one.”

He almost forgot that werewolves loved running. They did those tribe group runs still, right? An idea hit Rafe. If he was going to get his best friend to start training with him, a good jog around campus every week was a good place to start.

“The guy’s a grade-A asshole and everything,” Joe spoke up while he dug into his cereal, “but if you don’t mind me getting into the nitty and gritty, why exactly do you hate him, Lin?”

The blue-haired girl hesitated, her lips pursed and her gaze sliding over her WardNav nervously. A moment later, she sighed and answered. “I’d tell you, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s not really my story to tell. He’s been nothing but a grating loser since I’ve known him, but he’s done a lot of bad shit to the people I care about. I don’t want to feel like I’m gossiping.”

It went quiet as the first-years pondered over that. It sounded like ancient history. Right now, Zoel was an obnoxious pest at worst and an aggravating menace at best, but if he could be more dangerous than he let on, then dealing with the gamma wasn’t going to get any easier.

Breaking the awkward silence, Andre turned his attention over to the humans. “Are you guys okay? Had any trouble as of late?”

“Nope,” Rudy happily responded for all of them. “Not really. Ever since you guys stood up to them, they’ve kept their distance. Thanks, if I hadn’t already said that. It also helps that Cain’s been around more often.”

“About time,” Lindsay rolled her eyes.

Joe waved off the gratitude, gracing them with a confident grin. “You don’t have to thank us. That’s just what friends do.”

“Yup,” Andre agreed, then turned his eyes over to the superhuman next to him. “Right, Rafe?”

Rafe balked at him indignantly. “What are you looking at me for? Of course, I wasn’t gonna say otherwise!”

The omé didn’t look convinced, but a teasing smirk curled his lip. “Hm.”

Twenty minutes later, they were on their way to the War Field, walking out of the main building as one unit, taking a stack of snacks on their way. Andre, of course, carried a bag of Twinkies to munch off.

“I have to ask,” Rudy took a sip of his soda before continuing. “When did the great and almighty Cain get inside your back pocket, Lins?”

Lindsay, who had been leading the group, spun around and walked backward to address him. “You guys are first-years, so it’s pretty understandable you see him that way, but trust me, he’s just another guy. I got over my starstruck syndrome by just walking up to him during a party and chatting-”

Then, all of a sudden, she gasped, nearly tripping over herself as she bumped into something else, and the low grunt in her ear told her it was a body. Flushing in embarrassment, she spun around with an apology on her tongue.

“Oops. So-”

“Jesus, chick. Watch where you’re going,” Bones sneered down at the indigo girl, swiping at his arm in disgust as if dust had gathered there.

Rafe was immediately on the defensive, ready to eviscerate the seldom seen first-year, but Lindsay’s attitude flipped with lightning speed and beat him to the verbal punch.

“Thank god I didn’t finish,” a sarcastic laugh spilled out of her mouth and gave Bones a saccharine smile. “If you were to wait, I would have apologized.”

The violet-eyed boy scoffed. “I don’t need your fucking apologies. Just move out of my way, weirdo.”

“Okay, rude much? Did your momma ever teach you ‘if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all?’”

“No, because I wasn’t raised by pansies!”

Lindsay pinched the bridge of her nose, looked down, and shook her head in disappointment. “Oh! So, you’re just another jackass. Got it. We’re already dealing with a handful of them, so get in line, sweetie. Who am I kidding? You’d probably cut the line.”

It was like watching an intense tennis match. Everyone was silent as they witnessed the back-and-forth between the blue-haired girl and the enigmatic, flip-flop-wearing boy. And to be honest, Rafe had to hide a grin. Andre was blinking in confusion, Joe was awkwardly shuffling his feet, Daeran was cringing in his sneaker, and the humans were eagerly awaiting the next barb to be thrown.

The latter rolled his eyes as he turned away. “I don’t have time for you idiots.”

“Running away?” Lindsay asked mockingly at his back. “Are you sure you weren’t raised by pansies, as you called my folks?”

Bones just threw up a middle finger as he moved inside and disappeared into the main building. When he was gone, Rafe reached over with a hand toward Lindsay and the two high-fived.

“Nice. If it were me, I’d have just socked him,” the blond nodded, very impressed.

“Trust me. I was only a few seconds away from magicking his ass on fire.”

It didn’t matter that he saved them from the gamma wolves. The others might let his demeanor slide, but Rafe wasn’t going to be as nice.

They met with another familiar on their way. Joe was the one to spot Frodd trudging toward the field, his club dragging against the ground as he held it low.

“Hey! Frodd, right?”

When the young barbarian turned around, Rafe caught a flash of sadness on his face. However, that went away quickly as he faced his fellow peers. “How ya doing, hey friends!? I’m thinking we’re all headed toward the same place, right? My clan and I are headed up there now.”

“Cool. And where, might I ask, are your buddies?” Rafe questioned.

Frodd was usually around them whenever class wasn’t in session or when he had the time to be.

“I don’t see any spiked clubs or fur tunics nearby,” Lindsay searched all around them.

The smile on his face flickered for a split-second before he went to scratch his maroon bedhead with his club, slightly shaky laughter bubbling out of him. “Oh, well, most of them are already a part of a club, so they gotta be the earliest of birds.”

“Well, let’s catch up with them,” Andre waved welcomingly. “We’ll be pretty early, too, so, we’ll have a few minutes to talk.”

The barbarian’s mouth flattened for another instant, then nodded rapidly with the tightest, fake smile Rafe had ever seen. “Um, sure.”

His less-than-jubilant reaction didn’t go unnoticed, and it was Daeran who called him out in concern. “You okay, man? We… don’t have to-”

“No, no! It’s nothing. In fact, I bet they’ll be up to high doh when they meet the lot a ya!”

More nervous chuckling. More head-scratching with his club.

Something was going on with him, but that had to come later.

Rafe shrugged and started forward once more. “If you say so.”

-POI-

“This is it, dudes,” Joe glanced between them. “Let’s give it everything we’ve got.”

One of the first things they noticed was the large audience that had gathered in the stands. If Rafe didn’t know any better, he would have assumed the entire school came to watch.

“It’s a pretty big thing in Ironward,” Lindsay mentioned. "They even have a channel for it on your TVs so you could watch the fights from there if you wanted.”

So, literally, the whole school is watching?” Daeran sighed deeply. “That’s great.”

Rudy clicked his tongue. “I’m not even fighting and that made my anxiety go through the roof. You guys better not lose, or you’ll have to do the walk of shame.”

“You are just a beacon of confidence, aren’t you, Rudy?” one of the other humans, Garrett, Rafe believed, shook his head.

“In my experience, the more nervous you are, the better you’ll try. Just ask me five years ago when I stole my dad’s van and tried doing donuts in the middle of the yard.”

Sam shot a look at him. “You had to ice the tires to stop before you crashed. You’re always so reckless.”

“Boy goes viral on the internet once and thinks he knows the way to success,” Lindsay said, giving them all a good chuckle.

“Look who’s not present,” Rafe snorted as his eyes found the Abellon Club short of one particular asshole. “Must be one hell of a hangover.”

That surely made everything easier. There was probably no way they would allow even an esteemed member of the number-one club to interfere with a match, but Zoel’s absence was a comforting thought, nonetheless.

“Gather around, participants!” Mr. Emais; booming voice resounded throughout the War Field. “Let’s get this show on the road!”

Everyone began to shift into place as the tryouts resumed.

“Okay. Time to find some good seats,” Andre clapped, jostling the bag of Twinkies. “Good luck, guys!”

“And try not to kill anyone!” Lindsay added and went to lead the group to the sidelines.

Rudy got his piece in. “Or do! That’ll show them not to mess with us.”

His sister shook her head, muttering. “Please don’t listen to him.”

There wouldn’t be any deaths, but that didn’t mean Rafe couldn’t beat them to a pulp.

“I think it’s rather simple what’s going to go down for the next couple of hours,” Emais spoke from his floating podium, overlooking the field of participants and crowd members with a cold smile. “There is a multitude of transportation plates so we can get done with this faster, but you’ll be heavily surveyed and recorded during your battle with someone from another team. The only rule is that there is no killing. Fight to your fullest, but no corpses. Unfortunately.

“You won’t be judged on whether you win or lose. We’re looking for your usefulness in a combat situation along with other factors. Do whatever it takes to get the job done. Understood?”

There were shouts and murmurs of agreement alike, which was all the deputy headmaster needed before taking his seat. “Alright. Coaches? Announce your first contenders, please.”

There were twice as many coaches now, and a pair of each flanked a circular platform – the transporter. On the very end near Rafe and the first-years stood Coach Sarabi, who lazily scanned over his clipboard before his announcement.

“Okay, then. First off for me is first-year barbarian Froddgenskaenn up against fourth-year sasquatch Mahogany.”

So, it’s gonna be like that, Rafe thought. The fights were going to be random just like everything else. The younger participants were at a total disadvantage if they weren’t put up against another freshman, which there was a complete shortage of.

A few spaces away from them, a massive, hairy, bipedal beast stomped through the bunch, more sasquatch than human. Rafe refused to believe that the guy was about sixteen-years-old. He must have shifted beforehand because he had the appearance of a middle-aged geezer with a bad back.

“Jeez. That guy’s huge,” Joe gaped, making Rafe snort.

“And ugly.”

“Shouldn’t be too much of a fuss,” Frodd twirled his club over his head, standing straight and brimming with confidence Rafe was sure he wasn’t feeling at all. “He has a head, therefore, I’ll just bonk him with me trusty club. Deity armor, remember?”

It was at that moment, out of the corner of his eye, that Rafe spotted the rest of Frodd’s people. They stood a couple of teleporters away on the side of the coaches, staring impassively into the masses. Out of all of them, Draup was the most notable, his massive frame standing cross-armed in front of his group like a metal statue. And the first-year barbarian was looking anywhere but there.

Rafe considered pointing that out aloud, but he didn’t want to make the guy even more anxious than he already was. The superhuman could already see the tiny beads of sweat beginning to take form on his forehead.

“Yeah, go put the fear of God into him.”

The young barbarian looked so tiny standing next to the smirking wannabe bigfoot, it was almost cruel pitting them against each other. However, the blond, albeit drunk off his ass, had fought the other first-year, and he had a mean swing that even rivaled the strength of A-lister superhumans. He was inebriated last time, so one had to wonder how the boy fought sober.

Coach Sarabi glanced between the two as they stood side by side on the teleporter. “The match begins the second your feet touch your new location, understand?”

“Got it,” Frodd nodded, gulping.

“No problem-o, coach,” Mahogany responded gruffly in a slight Australian accent as he grinned cockily down at the barbarian. “This will be over in seconds.”

Other participants were being called to fight, but the two first combatants have already flashed away, their bodies dematerializing as the platform emitted a bright light. The first hover screen above them then switched on, displaying a rocky terrain with an endless sea of plateaus. Frodd and Mahogany appeared a moment later, now across from one another

“Congrats on making it to the second round,” Mahogany crouched, preparing himself for battle. “I never thought it was possible for fresh meat like you. However, this is the part where I crush your dreams.”

Frodd got down into a recognizable stance, wielding his weapon as if it was a baseball bat, and rolled his eyes, exuding calmness. “Yeah, yeah. Villainy monologue. Let’s just get on with it!”

“Couldn’t have said it better, mate!”

They both lunged simultaneously, and Frodd kept his club poised above his head while he dived for his opponent. Inches from each other, the first-year swung down with a bellow, which was quickly blocked by a brown, hairy arm of corded muscle. Mahogany laughed as he leaned away before throwing a fist at the boy’s face. Frodd blocked it in turn, the force shoving him to the ground and skidding back.

The fourth-year was about to charge again, but his smaller adversary didn’t let him. With a sudden burst of speed, Frodd zipped before the sasquatch with his club already raised and ready for launch, putting the beast back on the defensive.

Rafe, along with Joe and Daeran, watched on in surprise as their barbarian peer skillfully veered his club in every angle as he slammed it against Mahogany’s arms. It was like he was trying to break down a stone wall, driving it back by centimeters every five hits. Even so, Frodd remained collected and ferocious. Seeing the little progress he was making, he then backed up before promptly throwing the weapon, similar to how he did during the party and nearly took Andre’s head off.

“You serious?” Mahogany snickered as he made to sidestep the projectile. “Throwing in the towel so soon!?”

The club passed by his head barely but harmlessly. Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t able to process the first-year suddenly appearing behind him in time, grabbing it at the base before aiming right for the side of the beast’s head.

“Yet I’m still fast enough to catch it!” Frodd exclaimed as it struck true.

Mahogany cried out as he was sent tumbling to the side.

“Nice! First hit!” Joe cheered.

Rafe was definitely fascinated. The barbarian had speed that could make most superhumans’ heads spin. Barbarians were a branch of supers themselves, the only difference being that their culture deviated from modern civilization. And most people looked down upon them for that.

Mahogany unceremoniously stumbled to a stop, rubbing at his aching temple with a snarl. “Well played!”

In no time at all, he was back on the pursuit, claws glinting under the planet’s beaming sun. “But I haven’t even begun to play!”

Frodd prepared for another homerun but got disoriented when his feet abruptly left the ground courtesy of a sweep of the legs. The sasquatch lashed out with a swipe of his talons, cutting the barbarian across the arm and forcing out a hiss. Another was delivered, but Frodd still had the mind to guard himself with his club. Mahogany then latched a large hand onto the weapon, pulling it and Frodd toward him before sending a punch directly at his face. It connected, making the first-year go flying.

Or, he would have if the sasquatch hadn’t snatched his foot to drag him back. The fourth-year spun him around, winding up for a seismic toss. Though, Frodd’s senses swiftly returned, and he swung his club at Mahogany’s head just as the latter let him go. The young barbarian was still sent far, nearly ramming into one of the many plateaus surrounding them. The beast would prove to be just as quick on his feet as the boy, as the second Frodd’s toes touched the ground, he was already gunning for him at a rapid pace.

Frodd gasped but was quick-witted enough to leap out of the way of a fist to the nose. The upland once behind him was caved in, a sizable crater forming against the surface. Now behind the sasquatch, Frodd took the opportunity to throw his club again, but this time, it cut through the air like a spear. Turning around, Mahogany grinned, keeping his back to the plateau he damaged and stretched his long, sinewy arms out. And before it could drill into his stomach, he grasped the barrel with both ends, gritting his sharp teeth as it was still enough to drag him back a few inches.

“Come and get it!” the fourth-year grinned menacingly.

Frodd’s brow furrowed but took the bait. No matter how strong his opponent was, he could never be separated from his club for long. Blitzing toward the sasquatch, he made to grab for the base of his weapon.

And he did. Easily.

Too easily.

It was as if Mahogany just casually handed it back, but before he had time to fully process it…

“Gotcha!” the beast roared before rearing back and sinking his fist into the younger male’s chest, causing him to yelp as he went airborne.

All the air rushed out of Frodd’s body as pain enveloped his being, eyes bulging as his bile choked him on a hiss. His back slamming into the hot, hard ground didn’t help either, forcing another pained grunt. His club clattered beside him, the barrel stopping near his temple.

Back on the War Field, the first-years winced, feeling the mammoth’s fist from there.

“Damn!” Joe rubbed at his chest. “That had to hurt!”

Rafe’s lips pursed, eyes on the barbarian as he struggled to his feet. “A hit like that… He can’t take any more of it or he’s done for. He’s got speed, sure, but if he loses breath with every hit he gives and takes, it’s not gonna do much good.”

They continued to observe as Frodd ran circles around Mahogany, striking at any given opportunity. The beast took it, unable to catch the speeding bullet that the first-year turned into. However, after some time, a claw got a mark in here and a sharp kick there had the younger male stumbling, and it was becoming more often as the fight progressed.

“Frodd’s running out of gas,” Daeran spoke.

Which was true. The barbarian was still on the attack, but Mahogany was now having no trouble maneuvering around the onslaught.

“Not doing so hot, aren’t ya?” the sasquatch taunted, ducking and weaving as he did. “All that fuel you had in the beginning is starting to run out.”

Frodd gritted his teeth as he kept swinging, trying to get in one more hit. “You just love to hear yerself yap, don’tcha?”

“Well, I’m winning, so I believe it’s warranted.”

“Don’t count me out yet. I still haven’t done all I can do!”

“Lay it on me, then, little barbarian.”

“Be careful what you wish for, sasquatch.”

Frodd then performed a series of backflips, gaining distance as he did. Mahogany didn’t give chase. He obviously wanted to see what the first-year had in store. Rafe was captivated as his fellow peer stopped before a strange vivid and bright green energy flowed out of his body and began to envelop his club. An iridescent sheen took the weapon’s shape, a plethora of colors like a torch of flames.

“That’s a lot of magic. A week with Rotar and he’s already made leaps and bounds. Either that or he’s been a secret wizard all this time.”

“Yeah, that’s right!” Mahogany pounded his chest. “Give me all you got!”

With renewed stamina, Frodd darted off like a rocket, rushing toward his opponent with steps that sounded as heavy as the beast. The barbarian then leaped high into the air, his form darkening in front of the shimmering sun while he held the club like a javelin.

“Kaan Spear!” he thundered to the heavens before throwing it straight down at his adversary.

The club shot down like lightning, and Mahogany was barely able to put up a defense before it crashed into him, upheaving a billow of rock and dust as dragged back into another plateau. The rocky formation trembled, threatening to crumble under the force of the collision.

The portion of people watching his fight waited with bated breath for the clouds of earth to clear. Frodd panted in exhaustion, one knee on the ground. Loud, spaced-out footfalls picked up in volume, and a shadow could be made out as it trudged out of the veil. Mahogany soon appeared, the barbarian’s club, smoking and darker than normal, in one hand.

However, the other was in a more dire state. The sasquatch winced repeatedly as the entirety of his right arm was singed and mangled, his collarbone poking out of his deltoid. Despite the agony he must have been in, the snarling grin never melted off his face.

“Finally. All tapped out.”

Frodd groaned from his position, maroon hair wet with sweat and drooping across his glistening forehead. “Damn.”

Not a single second more was wasted as the fourth-year dove for the tired first-year with a terrifying shriek, club in hand and the other dangling like a noodle in the wind. He brought the club down, aiming for Frodd’s head. The latter guarded his head in a panic, waiting for the stinging pain he knew his weapon could cause…

…but it never came.

Instead, the pain sprouted in his midsection. His eyes slammed open to witness the sasquatch’s fist embed itself into his bare gut. For the second time, he went flying backward and toppled across the floor into a boulder. When his back struck it, it moved only slightly.

Frodd didn’t move from his downed position.

Coach Sarabi watched closely, raising a hand in the air as he counted off. “Going once. Twice. Thrice. And time! Sasquatch Mahogany of year four is the winner!”

The crowd that viewed the match hooted and hollered as Mahogany roared victoriously, raising his opponent’s weapon into the air like a trophy. His arm remained sagging against his side, dislocated and burnt.

“He played him,” Rafe sneered at the screen. “Waited until he barely had anything left in the tank. Pretty skeevy if you ask me.”

Joe shrugged, looking disappointed himself. “But it’s smart. Brains over brawn and all that, bro.”

“Still, though.”

Daeran stayed quiet, but his eyes conveyed his sympathy for their defeated peer.

Frodd and Mahogany were teleported back to the War Field, strangely appearing better than they did on the big screen. The fourth-year was immediately in bragging mode, relaying the fight in exaggerated detail to his friends and to anyone who’d listen. Meanwhile, Frodd was limping back into Rafe and the others, a wounded expression etched on his scratched-up face. There was so much sorrow that Rafe was about to take a step forward to cheer up the poor guy, but then the young barbarian paused before spinning his head over to spot his clan members, a hopeful brown pleading with them.

He met eyes with Draup, who was a cold, hard statue as he glared at his underling with ice. With one shake of his head, the young boy’s mood worsened. Dejected, he proceeded with his walk of shame, head down and club dragging against the ground.

“Fucking hell,” Rafe cursed, glowering in disgust at Daup’s direction.

He’s certainly been where Frodd currently was. Trying to impress people who just cannot be impressed was a taxing thing to suffer through.

“Hey, man,” Joe piped up as Frodd got near, a kind smile on his face. “You did amazing! You-”

However, the barbarian wasn’t listening, plodding past them and not stopping even as he walked off the War Field, a thundercloud over his head. Daeran sighed sadly, seeming like he wanted to follow after the kid.

The noirette’s broad shoulders sank but then tensed as anger washed over his features. He turned to scowl at the Frodd’s so-called comrades. “What’s with those guys? It’s like he totaled the family car or something.”

Rafe just shook his head. “I get him. They’re expecting perfection out of him. Can’t say I wouldn’t storm out like that if I lost.”

“Family expectation shit. Seriously messed up.”

Joe knew it, too. The Sloanes were no joke when it came to family honor and commitment. You were dedicated to helping the cause of Coat or you weren’t. Rafe made a mental note to ask how Joe got out of that one.

“Next up!” Coach Sarabi announced. “First-year panther wizard Ulius versus first-year… mage Daeran Davidson.”

The latter freshman jumped at hearing his name, letting out a tiny, mousy squeak. If either Joe or Rafe heard it, they pretended as if they didn’t, but that did not stop the boy’s face from going a bright tomato red, completely embarrassed a noise like that just came out of him.

“You’re up, bro,” his roommate clapped him on the back. “Also, mage? That can’t be right.”

Daeran scratched at his brown hair, rolling his shoulders in discomfort. “Don’t worry. I told them to say that.”

“And the mystery goes on. Don’t think I won’t be trying to solve it while we watch you duke it out.”

“You do that. One thousand bucks if you get it right.”

The prospect of a challenge lit up Joe’s purple eyes, making him grin excitedly. “That better be a promise, bro!”