SINAH- Skill Is Not A Hierarchy

Trace

There is no room for flaw.

A single bead of sweat rolled down his left cheek. Besides that, his expression was one of utter calm and total concentration. It was as though his mind had temporarily banned all emotion.

Because it had.

He dug his feet into the ground, gripping a gleaming sword at his right side, as though he were ready to spring himself into the air.

There is no room for flaw, he told himself again. He had it this time and he knew it.

His feet left the ground as he launched himself at the hulking beast in front of him, leaving a cloud of dust suspended in the spot he was just standing.

His target was certainly a thing of nightmares. Its face was that of a dog's, but its many eyes matched a spider's. It stood on two legs and loomed above him, casting a large shadow with its scaled, humanoid torso. Its enormous arms and legs were covered thickly in fur, and its hands were webbed like a frogs feet, with long yellow claws protruding from the fingertips. As he approached it, it snarled, revealing long and horrid teeth.

One of those bulky arms made a grab at him but he kicked off of the large hand and landed barely a foot away from where it smashed into the ground. He was fully aware that, had he not moved quickly, he would have been flattened under the beasts' enormous palm. But he didn't spare a moment to reflect on it. This was his chance. He jumped onto the rooted hand and ran up the length of the beasts' arm. 

He was close. The tip of his sword pointed forward, he was ready to drive the blade through the creature's head.

There is no room for- he slipped. 

Damn! It was a long fall from the beast's arm to the ground; an incorrect landing meant certain death. He wasn't willing to die yet. 

Just as he fell, he swung his sword in a wide upward arc, catching the monster's shoulder and anchoring the blade deep in its flesh. The creature's arm flailed about as it let out a horrid screech of pain and he hung on to his sword for dear life.

The beast's free hand reached out to swat him away but he sprung from the hilt of his sword right into the monster's open mouth. Its tongue slid against his entire body and had to have been the coldest and slimiest thing he'd ever felt. He knew the beast's razor-sharp teeth would tear him apart as soon as it decided to close its mouth. He was hoping it would try.

What am I thinking? This is insane! He knew that his spectators were wondering the same thing. He took on a determined mindset and reached down the creature's throat and his hand closed around a solid tube which he immediately began to pull at as hard as he could. He heard a snap as part of the bone was severed from the rest and carried away in his hand. Spit and blood flew into his face as the creature gagged and he could feel the thudding of its head against the ground as it choked. He crawled out of the beast's mouth, shaking blood off of his hand, and lay on his back next to the creature, breathing heavy. Eventually, the creature gave up its struggle and went completely motionless. 

I did it. He thought. I finally passed the test.

He looked to his side at the beast. Something wasn't right... 

The simulation hadn't ended.

Before he could react, one of the beast's massive hands slammed down directly on him. He felt a sharp pain and from the corner of his eye, saw his health bar drain completely.

"Simulation complete." A robotic voice made itself known as the beast and the entire terrain melted around him and became pitch dark. He put his hands on his head and slid off a bulky helmet, closing his eyes against the sudden white light that struck them. When they adjusted, he was back in his classroom and all of the other students were filing out of the door, whispering to each other about the monsters they faced and how they defeated them.

He saw the face of his tall brunette teacher, Mrs. Hatten, looking down on him with an expression of concern and disappointment. 

"Do you realize", she began, "that the year has almost ended and you are the only one who hasn't passed the simulation yet?"

"I'm working on it," Jonsin told her dismissively. He tried to excuse himself but she put a sheet of paper on his desk before he could stand up. It was a long list of students from top to bottom.

"Do you see your name anywhere on this list, Jonsin?"

He didn't. And he already knew exactly where this was going.

"This is the list of graduating students," she began, "the people that will be moving forward into the Guardian's branch. At this point, I don't know if you have what it takes. Maybe your Trace just isn't strong enough for rigorous training like this."

"My Trace is plenty strong..." he muttered stubbornly. 

"The other students can conjure the elements, run at high speeds, or summon familiars. All you do is summon a sword."

"A really powerful sword." he lied.

"In that case," she countered, "why haven't you been able to pass a single simulation with it?"

He reflected on his teacher's words as he walked home that day. It was true that his special ability wasn't nearly as powerful as most of his peers'. In all honesty, he highly doubted the sword even had any magical properties. But it was all he could do. Out of everyone with a Trace, he wouldn't doubt that his was the most useless in today's world.

If he dropped from the academy, he would have no trouble making it through a normal education and perhaps become a doctor, or an inventor, or even just a common wealth citizen. But the threat of the mares returning still lingered. The ancient race of horrifying creatures that nearly wiped out humanity but were stopped by people with the Trace; the Guardians. 

Now, SINAH Academy trained those who inherited these abilities to be on the front lines in the case that the dark beings returned. Jonsin looked up at the setting sun and made his decision. No matter what, he would make it past this meager stage of his life and become strong enough to protect those he loved... and to find his father.