The Referee

“The rules are as it follows: this is a points match, not a death match and I will not see anyone daring to sully the sanctity of this duelling piste, understood? Each individual bout will have a time limit of five minutes. Substitutions are allowed as a two-way: you may sub out a fencer and then sub back in the original fencer for his next bout. Each team has only one reserve. There will be a total of nine bouts with the anchor bout going up to 45. Are we understood?”

But we weren’t understood and this was rather vexing. While I hope they had read the rules beforehand and needn’t such a reminder, both teams were now more focused on each other than on me. They each stood at a side of the piste—it was made of solid marble, 2 meters wide and fourteen meters long, surrounded by water. It was a beautiful arena that made for excellent forward and backwards movement and allowed for very limited lateral movement.

Were they paying attention that? No, of course not.

They were concerned about each other.

Children, is what they were. Concerned about each other instead of this duel. Both teams lined up staring each other down and appearing stunned at what they saw.

Nonetheless, curiosity got the best of me. None of them spoke for the longest time and I simply did not have the patience to wait for such a thing.

The Almighty referee was such because he could, through a Rule, see into the mind of all of those he arbitrated over for the sake of fairness. I needed not any [Skills] for it.

I…Gilder warned me about this, but is this what he meant by fakes? That guy he looks...he looks just like me,Carr thought. He was worse than in shock, he found himself nearly hopeful—his eyes quickly diverted from his copy and towards Katherine. The copy outraged him, but Katherine inspired a different feeling entirely: nostalgia. Sadness? Carr wanted to believe that was the real one. I never thought I’d see your face again. Not ever. No…that’s not you…it can’t be. But I got transported to this world, why not you? I—NO! She wasn’t inside the circle. Johan consumed her soul. It’s not her. It can’t be. But…

From the other side, the False Carr observed him with righteous fury. This guy thinks he can dress up like me? Look like me? But he sure as hell can’t fence like me. I’ll show you. Why is Valle with him? Did he get fooled by the fake? No matter. I’ll show him who the real one is with my sword. “I finally found you, faker!” the False Carr screamed. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere?”

“Who are you calling a fake, you fucking disgrace?” Carr shouted back. Celle put a hand on his shoulder but he shrugged it off and marched forward—though he stopped before entering the piste proper. “Okay so you got the cosplay down—should I be impressed?” Here Carr took a deep bow and when he rose again it was with a twisted grin. I’m gonna fucking enjoy this. The thought brought him enough joy to nearly distract him from Katherine—nearly. “Come on stats fucker, I’m ready to kill you.”

“You know how to trash talk. Good for you.” The False Carr stepped forward as well. “How dare you steal my face and oppose Johan? You’re about to learn you better not mess with the Bladewolves. We’re going to destroy you just like we won the nationals.”

“Okay FIRST OF ALL—“ Carr gestured wildly as he spoke “—don’t fucking use that name. Second of all, if you must use the name, don’t use it unironically. We won goddamn titles with that name and we still thought the name sounded like shit.”

I remember that. Jack used to joke about the name being stupid, only Johan and I thought it was cool,thought the Fake. It was a noble name. It intimidated people. They respected the Bladewolves.

I remember how Jack and I used to talk some mad shit about the name and Johan used to get mad at us for that, thought Carr. It was some pretty rad psychological warfare though. You didn’t want to be at the pub later after the tourney and admit you lost to the goddamn team called ‘Bladewolves.’

“I don’t want to fight you,” said Katherine. Everyone turned their heads to her at once—but it was the False Carr that spoke first.

“Katherine—what do you mean? Johan asked us to beat the hell out of this guy, remember?”

She hesitated. Something about this doesn’t feel right, Katherine thought. This Carr he…he feels real. Almost too real. Was there fear, deep within her? I could not tell, for she would not allow even herself to see the thought. This isn’t good. “He’s a lot like you, Carr. Even if he’s fencing for Johan’s enemies, he’s got—he seems like someone we could get along with, once we take off that mask from him.”

“Hey, remember what we used to say? Anyone who fucks with our captain gets fucked and not in a fun way,” the False Carr shouted. Beneath his bravado, he thought, This guy isn’t just acting. The note about the Bladewolves…how did he know that? There was a suspicion there, but False Carr did not allow himself to reach his conclusion or to even accept it as a possibility.

“I just…it doesn’t seem right,” Katherine replied. “When I look at him I remember the guy we lived with in that run down house and…I can’t see him as our enemy.”

Max of Relampago stepped forward. “It doesn’t matter if we have any empathy for either side. At the end of the day, this is a fencing match. Why do you have to make this so complicated? Regardless of what’s going on…regardless of who’s getting tricked…in the end it’s just about who’s the strongest fencer. That’s all there is to it.”

There is a lot that doesn’t make sense here. But it will once we start fencing, Max thought. Johan…what did you do?

“I…guess you’re right,” said Katherine.

Here the real Carr’s heart broke. He never thought he would see it again, the kind, gentle smile of his dear friend. And for a moment, a part of him was willing to forget the impossibility and accept her as the real deal. Watching his desperation for the sight before him to be real, watching him try to convince himself of a world where the False Carr was False but the False Katherine was somehow real…it made me understand why Johan bothered with his puppet show.

Human grief can be disturbing.

“Carr!” Valle of Cresna shouted. He grabbed his companion by the shoulder tightly and brought him back to his team area, forcing him to break eye contact with the ghost of his friend. Katherine maintained her look on his back as Valle pulled him away, and the Champion of Cresna looked back to glare at her. This theatre is too macabre to be allowed to exist. How dare you? Valle’s fury was one I hadn’t expected. His hand tightened around Carr’s shoulder and he whispered, “I’m sorry. I know this is difficult for you…but I need you to get your head in the game. You are the first one up.” Just be competent enough to be a neutral score. I will avenge you, my friend, the Champion thought.

“I—“

Gilder stepped up. “Carr, I know I only talked about this briefly but—you have to believe me, those are fakes. They are not real. Don’t let yourself believe that they are real, okay? You have to understand. You have to keep that in mind.”

“I—I know that, okay? It’s just…how are they so…so real?”

Everyone was surprised when Princess Nevada approached him and put a hand to his arm gently, while Valle still held him by the shoulder. She disliked Carr, true, but she disliked Johan all the more, and seeing this act of horror had made her sympathetic. For the moment she forgot his missteps and saw a kinship between them: victims of the monster by the name of Johan. “I heard rumours about it. Someone who can alter appearances…someone with the legendary skill Below Suspicion. It was not meant for my ears but my spies made sure it reached them nonetheless. The rumour went that Johan won the war by using the man for some treacherous behaviour on the battlefield, albeit the official story is that he won the deciding battle in one glorious charge…” Princess Nevada shook her head. “You see what really matters here, yes? A legendary skill changed their appearance.”

“But they…they don’t just look like them. They act like them—like us,” Carr replied. There was a haunted look in his eyes. *God, the fake me isn’t that weird but Katherine…it’s…it’s like she’s right there. “*Just appearances doesn’t cut it.”

The entire group had been crowding around him at this time but they all made space—Valle and Nevada immediately let go off him—once Celle the Gambler, formerly Celle the World’s Greatest Detective, stepped forward and grabbed both his arms, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Carr, listen to me. Remember the Longswordsman you fought in the ship? He stole your memories, your fighting style—and he worked for Johan. Doesn’t everything make sense if we start assuming that he’s behind this?”

“But—but I remember Isabella killing him,” Carr replied.

“Isabella cut off his arm and he fell into the ocean. It’s not impossible he survived, especially since he was a trained assassin.” Celle squeezed his arms tightly. “Think about this. There is a copy of you standing in front of us and we know that there’s someone who can access people’s memories—isn’t it more logical to assume that he survived than that he didn’t?”

“I…I think so.” It makes sense… Carr was slowly processing what Celle was saying. He was nodding along, but his acknowledgement of her words came before he had processed the words. Part of his brain was still preoccupied with, That’s Katherine. She…she looks just like her. “It…it makes sense.”

Celle nodded excitedly. “Yes. Listen to me, Carr! LISTEN!” She gently tapped the side of his face—it could hardly be called a slap—and forced him to focus. “According to what Her Highness just said they have access to someone who can change people’s appearances. If they also have the Longswordsman, then this changes things. They can create copies like that.”

“Yeah,” Carr replied, nodding absently. His eyes were still unfocused. “That…that makes sense.”

“It does,” Celle insisted. “I know I’m right about this.” There could be other explanations. There’s so much I don’t know and I’m making a guess based on almost no information…but Carr needs this to be true. I have to act confident. If not, then he’s… Celle refused to let her own thoughts finish. “You can do this Carr. They’re not real. That woman, she’s not your friend you hear me?”

With a weak nod and his head down, Carr slowly started to head towards the piste. He appeared somewhat unconvinced, as if in a daze, as he headed towards his duel. Looking at his team’s area, I noticed a peculiarity: who was that woman sitting beside Fedal the Hero? She was not part of the team in the information submitted to me.

But that was a concern for another time, for I had to turn my attention to the opposite team to see how they were handling the situation.

Somewhat unsurprisingly, Max of Relampago had taken control of the situation. “Katherine, I need you to go slowly.”

“Slowly?”

“Each bout has a time limit of five minutes. Back on Earth we were used to three minute bouts before we had our break. If you spend all your stamina going all out from the start, you are going to pay later on. And our precious substitute hasn’t shown up yet, has he?” Valder the Executioner had agreed to partake in this fight but to say he was being uncooperative wasn’t enough. Frankly even I, the almighty referee, had little idea about what his plans were—I needed to see him to see into his soul. “Go at it slowly. The Carr you’re fencing appears really disturbed about fencing you, so take advantage of that. If you go at it hard, his instincts might kick in and he might be more troublesome to deal with. Don’t make him fence with his heart. Make him use his head. Go slow and get a point or two. You don’t need to get a huge lead. Getting 5 points would be great, but if you’re in the lead when the time is up that’s enough too.”

Max’s thoughts were most curious and frankly a delight to sift through. If one of the two Carrs is a fake…He glanced at the False Carr. Then I’m pretty sure that Gilder is right and our Carr is the false one. I have had my suspicions for a while but Gilder’s experiences make it a lot more likely...which would also make Katherine a false one. If Gilder’s story about Johan is true then he’s…more of a monster than I realized. The “Jack” system he put Gilder through, I…can’t forgive him for it. But there’s too many variables right now.

What if both Carrs are fakes?

What if the one I’m with is the real one? It’s unlikely, but it could be true.

No…in the end all of those are just rationalizations. Wordless images of fencing on Earth flashed through his mind. At the World Cup finals, Max of Relampago fell short to Carr’s mighty attacks. Truth is…I just want payback from that match.

So what if Johan is a monster?

So what if I’m fencing with false versions of Katherine and Carr?

He fixated his eyes on the real Carr, who walked up onto the piste and readied himself. Everything can be solved later. If I am right and I’m fencing with the fakes, then after we settle our score I’ll help you fight Johan. But I’m not letting go off this chance for a rematch. No harm then, eh Carr? If this interferes with your plans…you just have to beat me. You understand that, don’t you?

What a fascinating fencing maniac.

Carr didn’t understand him, at least not at that right moment. He stood on the piste awkwardly, en garde ready, but his eyes were weak. Unfocused. What if she’s the real Katherine—no. She’s not. She can’t be. But if she is—my blade is sharp. Can I hurt her? I…I can’t…not after seeing Johan kill her. No. It’s not her. It’s not her. NO. NO. NO.

Katherine stepped onto the other side of the piste, and the False Carr said, “Forget what Max said! Just go for it, that faker doesn’t know how to fence!”

“The fuck did you just say?” Carr shouted. It seemed this had snapped him back from his trance in a way, if only partially. His mind was still clouded, but fury had granted him a measure of clarity. “I’LL SHOW YOU!”

“Please do,” Katherine replied. Her words were sincere but Carr’s hearts again wavered at her tone—it was a kindness and gentleness he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Katherine herself wavered slightly but also fell in a perfect en garde stance. Please…don’t be what I think you are, she thought. But she did not allow herself to even define what that concern really was. It was a vague, cloudy concern that overshadowed all her thoughts. Nervousness was getting to her.

Katherine withdrew a locket from her pocket and looked at it carefully. Why do I still have this? Why does it bring me peace?

From the New Bladewolves’ side, the woman sitting beside Fedal shouted, “THAT LOCKET—WHY DO YOU HAVE THAT?”

There was a different measure of panic across each of them. Celle’s was the most beautiful panic, for it was an informed one. Fedal said one of Johan’s guys had this woman with them…something about an academy…

This would not do. If they kept talking, they wouldn’t fence at all!

And as the Almighty Referee, I WOULD NOT ALLOW THAT TO PASS.

“En garde!”

My declaration was enough to force both fencers to focus—they knew that regardless of what they thought, they would have to focus on the match before them now. Carr shook his head again and again, as if trying to refocus, and a cold sweat dripped from his forehead.

“Prêts?”

Why did that girl know about the locket? Did—did I steal this from someone? Katherine thought. I…I…there’s no time to think about that for now. I have to win!

Even if she isn’t Katherine…looking at her is is making me think about so many unnecessary things right now…it’s making me remember all about those times I can never go back to. It’s making me remember how she died. That sword going through her…the Grim Reaper...I hate this, Carr thought.

TO 5

SCORE STARTS AT 0—0

Carr the Swordsman of Zero vs Katherine the Duellist

“THE BOOK OF SOULS HAS A BLANK PAGE

YOUR BLADES ARE THE PEN

FIRST BOUT

ALLEZ!”