Vivi took her time next turn, and not so she could calculate as many winning trajectories as possible. Despite how she was enjoying the game, Xun’s earlier words had set her mind churning.
How am I supposed to explain knowing Eshara?
It was only after several minutes of mulling over complicated ways to word the truth—which left things suspiciously vague but entirely accurate—that a realization hit her, and she felt like slapping her forehead.
Explanations would be easy.
…well, depending on the phrasing Xun used with his question, and how much he pressed her on her answer.
Her thoughts occupied with that dilemma, she forgot to plan out what she herself would be asking next, and so after clearing the table, she was blindsided by Xun prompting her with “So, what do you have for me?”
She latched onto the first thing that came to mind. “Why’d you join the tournament? What are you doing this for?”
Experience, the thrill of a fight, rising in standing at the Adventurer’s Guild, and prizes if you were good enough—there were plenty of common reasons. Suyin had said her master was in it for the last one, but Xun seemed retired, so why would he care about rewards? He didn’t look like he needed or cared for either coin or equipment.
Unless he planned on climbing to the very top of the tournament, where prizes became personalized, there probably wouldn’t be anything that interested him much.
So is he that strong? Is that what he’s aiming for?
Even top sixteen would be outrageously difficult to reach. Vivi had gotten the impression he was as fast as the Red Tithe, but that assassin had been around thirteen hundred, a step beneath Aeris in power. And while Aeris was the strongest living human archmage, living, human, and mage were significant qualifiers. He was no Osmian, and Osmian was only a historically famous mage. There were similar cases for most class types.
How many Osmian-category people would slink out of obscurity to fight in this tournament?
Xun considered the question, twisting his cue with two hands.
Eventually, he chuckled. “For the favor from the Sorceress, of course.”
It took a lot for Vivi not to react at hearing her own title. Or… that was a lie. The words bounced off her stone mask like they usually did, but she flinched on the inside.
Then she realized the implication. “You’re trying to win?”
“What kind of person joins a tournament and doesn’t try to win?”
…the person you’re talking to, for one.
“You know what I mean,” Vivi said. “The whole thing. You’re in competition for that?” His rude surprise attack had made it clear he was some manner of powerhouse, but frankly she hadn’t assumed he was in contention for the top spot.
He gave her an odd look for a second, then turned contemplative. “I’ve seen some outrageous upsets in my life,” he mused. “So I wouldn’t make guarantees even if I were the highest level in the entire event. The moment you treat a hundred-level gap—or two—as insurance, that's when you get smacked upside the head as a reminder. As you ought to. More to the point, I’m a tad rusty these days.”
He paused.
“I suppose it comes down most to which of the real old monsters come out to play.” He barked a laugh. “And whether Vanguard is filtering for immortals—keeping the dragons out. That’d be a tough fight for any of us.”
Vivi twitched. The words flowed so innocuously that she couldn’t tell if the joke had been an intentional wink to her. He doesn’t know about Embralyne, does he? He was there, watching Suyin fight earlier.
A-and Ember doesn’t plan on winning either, so it’s okay if Vanguard lets her in. There’s not any rules against immortals in the first place.
Not that Ember could win if she wanted to. The Princess was young for her kind. The Dragon King’s palace had been filled with people stronger than her.
That surprising jolt aside, Vivi found herself wondering how powerful Xun was if he considered himself a candidate. Should she ask?
He probably wants me to. Realizing that, she shrugged the mild curiosity off.
“There’s a specific request you have in mind?” Vivi asked, feeling weird about her secret identity for once, since she would be the one fulfilling said request.
“That’s a second question, but you were generous to me earlier, so yes: there is.” His lips quirked. “I suppose with a genie’s wish, you ought to ask for world peace or something like that… but she’s already got that in hand.” He chuckled. “Not to shock you, but mine’s not a noble or gallant cause.”
Vivi considered. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if it were selfless.”
He seemed taken aback. “Hah! You’re an optimistic one. Wouldn’t have thought it with all that glacial disdain of yours.” He waved a hand at his face.
H-hey. No need to be so blunt.
But he had laughed good-naturedly, not meaning it as an insult. The man was clearly comfortable with his own faults, so he must not think twice about poking fun at others’.
“No,” he said, “I’m just hoping for a sword.”
“A sword?”
“Heavens bless his eternal soul and all that, but the Gladiator is hardly swinging his collection around anymore, is he?” Xun snorted. “No reason to let all that fine work rust. Told you already I was an appreciator… if just of one form of blades and not them all.” He shrugged. “So yes, that’s what got me to drag myself across the kingdoms to deal with this headache of a tournament. A sword. Now, I do think it’s my turn.”
Xun leaned over the table, which they’d reset as they had talked. Vivi mulled over his answer, relieved at the low-stakes reason for his involvement—she’d feared something dire—but upon seeing him ready himself to take his shot, she remembered her previous dilemma: what he intended to ask her soon.
She finished organizing her defense as he cleared the table with his cue stick.
“So, Lady Vianora,” he said upon winning. “How do you know the Roving Justicar?”
“She’s my blacksmith,” Vivi said.
It was the honest, core truth, and beautiful for how easily it would be taken in an innocuous way. Unless he knew she was the Sorceress already and this was all a farce, he would assume the words to mean ‘she makes my weapons.’
Indeed, Xun didn’t react oddly; he only whistled in admiration. “And how’d you manage that? Thought she didn’t take commissions.”
“I knew her before her rise through Vanguard.”
“There a story there?”
“Not an interesting one.”
Xun hummed, seeming mildly disappointed but not surprised. “Connection from home?” he asked, eyes flicking to her pointed elven ears.
“No, we met in Meridian a while back. Which again isn’t an interesting story.”
…that might not be true from a certain perspective, but from hers, it’d just been a routine guild hire.
Xun began fixing the billiards table again, and Vivi joined him.
Their mutual interrogation continued like that for twenty minutes; Xun went and grabbed another mug of beer halfway through, either more determined to get drunk than her or more resistant to alcohol’s effect—or probably both.
It became obvious fast that he wasn’t trying to suss out her identity. His first question and the general terms of the wager had already established that: he hadn’t pressed about her blade’s clearly strange origin, and he’d emphasized that they could decline questions to begin with.
He did ask her what her most dangerous fight was, and it took some creative phrasing to describe a swarm of ‘scaled shapeshifters with a particularly durable pack leader.’
Vivi hoped Cinereus never found out she’d called him a lizard-like monster. It was technically true on both counts. Not all dragons even developed human-level intelligence.
Xun came out the winner of the competition by two hits, which was a large gap given the scenario. Vivi had tried her hardest, but the man knew how to study the board and find lines in a way she couldn’t, having never played before.
After they left the table, Xun insisted Vivi go get her own next drink, and she did so, though she didn’t intend on getting carried away. When she returned to the back of the tavern, she spotted him sitting at a table with a checkered board atop it, and he was finishing lining the pieces up.
“Chess?” she asked as she approached, setting her mug on the wooden surface opposite his.
“Something where we’re not cheating so much, eh?” the old man said with a laugh.
She slid into the seat across from him, a small frown tugging on her lips as she examined the pieces.
“Never played this one either?” he asked.
“I have. But only a few times.”
“Not a fan of games in general then, it sounds like?”
The irony was so immense that a noise of amusement involuntarily escaped her. Xun’s eyebrows rose and he tilted his head, since it was very much not a common occurrence from her, but she didn’t provide an explanation.
What would she tell him? That in truth, she’d spent more than ten thousand hours playing games—one game—nonstop? That it’d been her whole life?
“I like games,” she replied evenly. “I just haven’t played much chess.”
“Busy woman, I take it. I get the feeling you’re still young. You’ll tire out in old age.” Xun’s eyes scanned the board, not looking at her as he spoke. He plucked a pawn up and placed it down two ranks forward. “My master was obsessed with them. Spent every minute playing, it seemed like. He was older than I am now when I met him, and I think that’s why—I’m understanding the appeal more in my twilight years.”
“And what appeal is that?” Vivi asked, not quite following.
“Gotta do something to keep occupied through the ages.” Xun snorted. “Though the hobbies I picked up are less… respectable than my master’s.”
Vivi assumed he meant his habit of chasing women. At the reminder, she found herself relieved that he really did seem to be behaving himself. She’d have been happy for an excuse to leave at the start, but now she would be disappointed if he started acting up.
“Maybe in another few hundred years, I’ll follow in his footsteps,” Xun said wryly. “But not any time soon. And don’t just stare at the board all day—go.” He gestured down.
Vivi blinked. “Right.” She moved a pawn forward.
Their chatter tapered off as the match began. She honestly had to remind herself of how each piece moved, and her hand hovered uncertainly on one of her turns before placing down the piece and hoping Xun didn’t raise an eyebrow. The incident passed, to her relief; it was a legal move.
A suspicion started to grow as the duel progressed, and eventually, she couldn’t help herself.
“Are you doing that on purpose?” she asked.
“Doing what?”
“Playing badly.”
“What a callous thing to say, Lady Vianora.”
She’d meant it as ‘going easy on me.’ “I don’t think you’re one to talk about rudeness. But are you?”
“No. This Xun Vey is giving it his best effort.”
“I thought you said your master was obsessed with games?”
“Yes, and…?”
“So weren’t you playing them all the time?”
“He was always hounding me for a match,” Xun agreed.
“Including chess?”
“We played all manner, yes.”
Vivi hesitated, feeling like maybe she shouldn’t finish the line of interrogation at this point, and he laughed at her.
“Everyone has talents, and also the opposite,” he said, unashamed. “I am horrendously bad at chess, as it happens. And since the alcohol seems to be making you more daring in your insults, Lady Vianora, I will point out in turn that despite my lack of skill we’re even in pieces.”
“I’ve played maybe a dozen matches in my life,” she countered. “Not even that.”
“There is nothing so ignoble as making excuses for one’s defeat. Die with your sword in your hand and your back not turned, you craven woman.” He moved a knight forward.
Vivi huffed, took another drink, and focused on the game.