“MIRAI! ISAAC!”
“ELWIN!”
The two ran at Elwin from the pillars of the quartier, where they too, had been searching. They came to a stop just a foot from him, incredulous that he had returned at last.
They all broke into a hug.
“Oh, praise the FOUNDERS, we thought we’d lost you,” breathed Isaac, his chest heaving with relief. “Are you... are you alright?”
“I knew you’d come back,” she embraced him, looking away to wipe a tear that had pooled without thinking. “I knew you were good!”
“I’m glad to be back,” Elwin consoled, hugging his kismets closer. “I wish I could have made it up to you at a better time, and in proper fashion, but it seems the DEIA of Time had other plans for us.”
All of them were hesitant to part from their embrace, afraid that they would separate again. But Elwin had to tell them what to expect, and to prepare them for what was to come: the time for celebration was not now.
“Listen, this is a battle no one wants, a battle we had no choice but to accept to defend our friend. And now that we have chosen to walk this road, we must do our best to win.”
“But your Quan, it is...”
“Not mine for the time being, until I prove myself.”
Isaac and Mirai nodded expectantly. “Do you have a plan?”
“I do.”
And so Elwin told his kismets of Maximus’s suggested strategy as quickly and as succinctly as he could, distilling the reasons to a fine point. As he relayed on what Ursus would do, what sort of terrible power he would wield, Isaac’s face became paler and paler, and his hands began to tremble. Mirai looked straight at Elwin, absorbing all she could in that minute of time, her feet jittery. They would have to duck and avoid Ursus’s attacks as much as possible, all the while prodding for his exhaustion.
With it being told, with just a moment to spare, they marched to the Circuleum of Aeternitas.
The Circuleum was in view. The three had never set foot inside it, for it was off-bounds in the south-east outside special occasions. It loomed over them like a fortress of doom, where their fates, and Katherine’s, would be sealed in just a moment. What was worse was that they weren’t the only ones heading in that direction: at least a few hundred others too, mostly Fradihta, were marching there, the news of Alexander Heriz’s challenge having spread like wildfire across the halls within the hour, to line the great seats as spectators to the battle about to commence.
And as the three approached the structure, the sight of that oppressive edifice gave all of them an uneasy belly; it was a deep, pulsing sensation that grabbed their stomachs and tried to wring out their contents. No one in that group of three had ever felt such a disturbing, mortal sensation before – it was as if their bodies expected them to perish, to die, and was preparing them for it. The three crossed the wolfram-wrought gates into the readying chamber, and through the gaps of limestone and concrete, through the wind that had kicked up a cloud of sand and dust, saw the shadowy silhouette of Ursus himself, waiting like a monolith in the middle of the arena, flanked by ancient columns that jutted out from what used to be the Circuleum’s stage. His shape was gigantic, unmoving, as still as night, the only thing moving about him the cape around his shoulder.
And at that monstrous sight Isaac threw his head sideways and vomited on the gutter; it was a heavy, painful retching that stung not only his mouth but his nose, the acrid scent of half-undigested breakfast compelling them to hold their own bellies not to retch. But even through it all, Elwin steadied Isaac’s back and arms, and Mirai held Isaac’s hand; Lucian, having arrived at the Circuleum in hopes of witnessing Elwin being pounded to oblivion, witnessed Isaac’s pitiful demise and shook his head.
“Good luck out there,” he coldly remarked, kicking up a whiff of sand in their direction before strolling away.
“I’m sorry... guys, I’m sorry,” gurgled Isaac, wiping away his mouth with a stream of water Elwin had pooled out of the air. Isaac was no stranger to gruesome sights at the hospital, having seen terrible injuries, of burnt flesh and pulverized bone, the results of violent conflict both sanctioned and unsanctioned that rendered human beings to little more than mincemeat, conjuring wails and screams from loved ones at their troughs of despair. He’d learned to detach himself from these sights, to lock them in a box behind his conscious thought, and was able to persist to provide medicine and food for his father. But never once did he imagine himself in the hospital bed, in the autopsy chamber, in the funerary coffin; and never once did he have to fight other people. He was an aspiring doctor, not a soldier nor a warrior – he wanted to heal and take care of the sick, not to hurt them or decide which lives to take. His entire body trembled and shook, his hands clammy and pale, his eyes staring into a thousand yards at death that was sure to come.
“Isaac? Isaac – ISAAC!” shouted Elwin, grabbing hold of his hand to restore its warmth. “It’s going to be alright. We are not going to die. I will make sure of it.”
“Remember,” assured Mirai, “We are facing him TOGETHER. You are not fighting him alone. We just have to dodge Ursus and his attacks until he tires – it’s three against one. Such are good odds for us.”
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There was a look about her expression that Elwin had never witnessed before – from what he knew of Mirai, she should have been as frightened as Isaac, but all his senses told him that she was not; instead, there was a reticent determination, her brows furrowed, her eyes calm.
Isaac breathed out a long sigh to ward off a hiccup.
“Okay... okay. Okay.”
“WOULD THE CHALLENGERS NOW STEP INTO THE OPEN?”
The amplified voice of the Groundsmaster reverberated off the walls of the grand arena, the line bouncing thrice until quieting into the void. The battle for Katherine was about to begin.
* * *
All around them tendrils of sand flew at their feet like rivers of spice.
The beveled stadia cast a long, eerie shadow over half of that sandblasted arena. Elwin and his kismets stood in the sun, and Ursus in the shadow, facing each other off some twenty yards away.
Some one-hundred-and-fifty spectators were gathered in a small spot of the Circuleum’s available seating, roughly eighty of them first-years, some fifty upperclassmen, the rest the faculty. Professor Aionia stood anxiously at the foothills of the cavea, knowing that there was nothing she could do against Alexander Heriz to save her Artens, as Elwin and his kismets had decided to fight on account of their free will. The laws of the Republics fully respected such an arrangement, but what was free about Alexander’s challenge, preying upon Artens inexperienced in combat? The powerful always exploited such laws for their own desire, and she felt the fibers of her being shake with indignity.
Headmaster Abraxas, immediately to her right, was stung to witness Elwin’s empty left forearm. It was he who had taken Elwin’s Quan away; but the punishment he meted out to Elwin was not something to be reversed on a whim, not even for the gravest of battles, and Elwin respected it too. He had to win without his Quan, or perish trying. Professor Helen sat with her arms crossed; Professor William did also, his expression contorted, because he was conscious of what Ursus was capable of. Professor Irina awaited standing, at her command several staff from the hospital wing.
“LET IT BE ANNOUNCED TO OUR BRAVE FIGHTERS:
THEY WHO FIRST CONCEDE, SHALL BE THE ONES TO LOSE.”
The Groundsmaster blared.
Ursus pivoted to Alexander Heriz, awaiting far above the podium of the cavea like an emperor ascendant, and bowed his head in solemn fashion. Katherine grimaced, knowing what Ursus was capable of, hoping that her friends could see through her father’s misdirection.
The Archon made a gesture of blessing, and Ursus turned to the kismets once again, giving a professional bow; Elwin and the others warily did the same, their vision never off his mountainous being.
“NOW THEN!
THREE -
“Remember the plan,” Elwin whispered to his friends.
TWO -
ONE -
BEGIN!”
“DODGE!”
Elwin and the others kicked the ground and jumped back as fast as they could, as a gigantic fireball roared in front of them and split the air in a thunderous crack. It exploded on their faces, but not before a cover of thick air concussed the full force of the fire. It was just as Maximus had predicted.
Even then, it was as if someone had grabbed Elwin by the spine and shaken him like a ragdoll. His vision was clouded, and for a moment he could hear nothing.
Nevertheless, he shouted.
“NICE, ISAAC! NOW GO, GO, RUN!”
But as Elwin tried to get up himself, he saw the shadow of Ursus by his side, and –
He dodged just in time for the swing to miss his head, which hit a column behind him and knocked the stone fifty yards away. Ursus hadn’t even used any battle Art; it was just his physical punch, and that alone could very well break him.
Mirai pounded the earth with her arms and flung up pieces of rock, the melody familiar to her mind, which she kicked towards Ursus with all her might; he shielded himself by raising his hands. The stone smashed to pieces of fine mist, and Ursus took a step backwards, dusting it out of his helmet; it spared precious seconds for Isaac to swoop in and pull Elwin away.
Elwin stood up again, groaning under the spectre of what could have been. He regathered his composure and readied himself for what was to come; it was not even a minute into the battle.
To the moat, he signaled.
He stood up with Isaac and made a calculated retreat to the walls of the arena, where the moat had water, while Mirai screened the pillars of earth hurled by Ursus. She deflected the projectiles just enough to miss them all, buying time for her friends, while he marched casually on them, never breaking into a run, already assured that he had won.
Within a minute the kismets were at the moat. Without his Quan, Elwin could not draw enough water out of the air for credible offense. But the moat could give him all the waters he needed, waters he could use to keep Ursus occupied in frivolous defense.
He stood up, breathed in, and spoke the words he knew.
“MAIOR FORTIOR!”
Even without his Quan, he felt a strength pool at the core of his heart and extend into his arms.
The Rhythm of the Dewdrops, he whispered, readying his stance, swinging flurries of uppercuts that launched forth several small jets of water from the moat.
He circled them around his body in a rhythm he knew so well, every fiber of his attention cognizant of Ursus and his menace, how and upon where he stepped.
“Isaac, Mirai,” Elwin nodded, and they nodded in unison, as he pulled a totality of heat from the waters around him, crystallizing into icy knives –
“NOW!”
Mirai threw dust into Ursus’s direction, and Elwin shot the daggers of ice to Ursus’s armored neck and face.
“FURA!” Isaac commanded, his sona from the Song of the Wisps mustering up a great forward gale, speeding up the daggers until they were singing in the wind.
The dust hit Ursus first, as Elwin had hoped; and the ice hit him after, but a puff of steam burst from his figure. He continued to march on them, unscathed, as if nothing had happened. Ursus had effortlessly vaporized ice into steam – he had not even raised his hand this time.
“Another!” he yelled, Mirai molding the earth by her feet into a lance several feet long, and Elwin tipping it with ice as thick as he could. Ursus was now just twenty feet away.
Elwin and Mirai lifted that ice-tipped lance upon their shoulders, and Isaac kicked it forward with a blast from his uttered sona, splitting the air in its wake towards the advancing giant –
And this time, he raised a wall of earth, which broke on impact.
But still he marched, unfazed.
You can’t defeat him conventionally, Maximus had said, and Elwin knew he was right. It was time for them to go on the run.
As if he’d read their thoughts, Ursus broke into a lumbering sprint, placing each foot forward faster than the other, until he was right on top of them in the blink of an eye; they barely dodged the full force of his slam, which broke the sandstone wall behind them.
So far Ursus had targeted them together to gauge what they were capable of, and now that he read their abilities, knew which target to eliminate first:
Isaac, who used air for support, but was inexperienced in combat.