No Time Like the Present: Fulcrum: Season One, #3

By J.J. Vega

It's been quiet in Bule for a bit. Jack and Corva have settled into a routine of working the bar in the evenings and then training until early in the morning. There's still tension between them and trust is tough to come by. Thanks to Zeke, Corva starts to a glimpse of who she really is, but it may be too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: The Giant Coffee Blunderbuss
• Release date: Jul 11, 2022
• ISBN: 9781943474073

Book preview

No Time Like the Present

Fulcrum: Season One, Episode Three

J.J. Vega

The Giant Coffee Blunderbuss

© 2022 Jason van Gumster, All rights reserved

1

Jack

But, V, why? I just don’t get it. Fighting is—

Jack, I gotta say you’re askin’ the right questions, kiddo. Just in the wrong order.

The old man paced around Jack, shuffling on the dirty stone floor. He adjusted the placement of the boy’s feet, his arms, even his back. The gnarled surface of the old man’s cane lifted an elbow, touched behind Jack’s knee, and tapped the side of the kid’s foot. Jack did as he was told.

Vardin was a gruff old bastard and this was about as nice as he got, partly because neither he nor Jack really knew what they were doing, and partly because he said Jack had a lack of discipline. He probably wasn’t far off on that.

I still don’t get why we’re goin’ through this. Lyia says that this ain’t something I should know. She said the Shadowfold got taken out because they were fightin’ folks like this. Said it don’t matter what their reasons were.

The old man kept nudging Jack’s stance into place, referring to the worn pages of an old notebook. Apparently he traded an awful lot to get his hands on that thing. Your girl and I don’t agree on much, but she’s right. That’s exactly why your people got it from all sides. But their way don’t hafta be your way. They figured they were saving humanity.

Vardin snorted at that last comment.

Jack held his posture, but confusion riddled his face. That don’t make any sense. How’re you gonna save people by fightin’ them and killin’ them? Escaping seems like a better option.

"The way they figured, they were helping folks escape. Permanently. It’s why they called what they did ‘mercies’ instead of callin’ them what they were. Mass murders. He stepped back to check Jack’s pose. Relax your shoulders."

Yeah, fine. But then why am I learning this stuff?

"The thing they got wrong is that you can’t escape for people, kiddo. You can only defend them. Escaping is their decision, however they choose to do it. He checked the notebook and nodded roughly, mostly to himself. But, even if their philosophy was fucked, their way of fighting was unmatched."

He was right. The soulmancers in the Shadowfold had been damn near unstoppable. And not just because of techniques like the Touch. It took both the Sheeps and the Goats attacking the Fold at the same time to finally take them out. That was probably the only time each side in the war came close to working together instead of tearing the world apart trying to destroy each other.

Vardin continued. You an’ your girl Lyia come from that same stock. You two have a talent for this in your blood. Ol’ Maddy has got Lyia leaning into hers. I figure I should help you find yours. And besides, I ain’t gonna be here to save your scrawny loudmouthed ass all the time. You’re gonna need ways to defend yourself.

Jack couldn’t help but roll his eyes at that. Vardin was older than dirt and he’d been talking about not being around for as long as Jack had known him. Together, they’d built that little training space in Cliff City, hauling down all kinds of heavy gear into that room. Vardin said the room was originally something called a kiva, but he didn’t know how the room was originally used. Apparently no one did. The whole of Cliff City had been abandoned well before the war even started. Even before proper civilization. The only memory that survived all that time was the name for the place. Looking at the worn and gray features of the aging barkeep, Jack thought Vardin was old enough to have actually seen it when it was originally constructed. That said, when he and Vardin built out that room for training, the old guy was always picking up Jack’s slack. Always quit after Jack. The man may have still had all his hair, but he was way into the gray. Despite that, he never even seemed to get tired. The joke was on Jack, though. Vardin died about a year later.

Alright, sure. But why does the bottom arm need to be so close to the body? This doesn’t feel natural at all.

Vardin paused mid-stride in his loop around Jack and tilted the notebook so it could be seen better in the light. No idea. That’s just what’s in these illustrations. Might be something you need to ask Lyia about.

You could ask her. I still think you should show that notebook to her. I betcha she could help.

The old man let out a long sigh and resumed circling, his cane clicking on the ground. It says here that ‘the shield posture is fundamental to nearly every other advanced posture, defensive and offensive. It’s not comfortable because you’re not supposed to hold it for long. Your discomfort is your strength. If you’re uncomfortable where you are, your mind and body are more willing to accept change. Fighting, like life, is defined by change.’ He paused to tap Jack’s shoulders. Poked the other knee. Basically, if you’re comfortable, you’re vulnerable.

Jack let out his own snort of frustration. Old Man Vardin had been good to Jack. Treated the boy a quite a bit better than just about anyone else in Bule, except maybe Lyia. It always bothered Jack how they never quite saw eye to eye. Vardin refused to include her in those practice sessions. Jack knew better than to press on that issue, though. He adjusted