. Fragmented .
Stillness washes over the Western Park.
The battle is over.
Kelsi stands motionless in the aftermath, still holding the shaft of what had just been her glaive up to her professor’s neck.
The whiplash of emotions that took place during the duel leaves her mind scrambled.
Shock.
Panic.
Thrill.
Guilt.
Dread.
Of all the ways this journey could’ve started…
How could she have expected this?
Her blubbering face struggles to maintain composure.
“P-p-p-prof…!”
Fior ignores her whimpering as they finally lower their arm, batting away the broken metal pole. Despite having utterly overwhelmed their student, they nod at her in approval. “That was good, Kelsi. You did very well.”
Kelsi is too distraught to take their compliment.
They turn around and stroll to the backpack she cast aside during the fight. The hook holding it closed looks just about ready to snap off.
When they set it free, a copious amount of jerky floods out.
Without a word, they strain to tip the round mass over with both arms, dumping the rest of Kelsi’s painstaking morning “effort” onto the grass. A few leftover books and assignments from Rift Point make it onto the massive pile of meat.
Kelsi feels like her heart is boring a hole through her chest.
Did they somehow already know she’d stolen food?
Is this all some sort of punishment?
She wants to ask them, but her eyes begin to blur with something wet.
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Fior drags the empty bag back to where the shiny white shards are strewn across the ground. They crouch over them and start collecting them one by one, carefully plucking the sharp metal buds with two fingers and tossing them into the cavernous leather.
Once they’re all packed away, Fior lifts up the sagging bag to their student. The fragments taunt her with a jingle as it swings side to side. “Kelsi, can you carry this?”
She’s despondent, but the glint of her jewel eyes shines through the darkness.
Finally, Fior is forced to reckon with Kelsi’s welling tears. They release a drawn-out groan.
“Oh, come on, now. Is your conviction so weak you’d break down and give up after losing a single toy? Where’d all your confidence go?” They push the bag toward her insistently. “Remember that it was your choice to come here. If you don’t actually feel you’re ready, this is your last chance to go back home.”
Kelsi is so stunned by these words that she doesn’t realize she’s already taken it back. Its weight is surely a fraction of what it was before, but it somehow feels heavy after the honesty served to her.
Having scolded her in their own way, Fior looks to the staggering wall in the close distance.
They don’t look back to make sure Kelsi is following them.
On their way down the hill, they walk by the poor tree slumped on the decline and run their soft hand over its bark.
Their voice is gentle and contrite.
“I’m so sorry. It was an accident.”
A glow pulses from their palm. In the shadow of dawn, it’s faint enough to be mistaken for the light of a firefly.
It expands until it envelops the detached tree.
As if accepting Fior’s apology, the trunk begins to move on its own. It trembles, shakes, and then violently shudders before reanimating, pushing itself off the ground.
It stands upright in the open air as the aura caresses it, floating up the hill toward the naked stump it belongs to.
At last, it falls perfectly in place, crackling as its sever wound mends itself.
The light retreats from the tree back to its caster and disappears, leaving the plant without a single blemish. Fior continues to walk nonchalantly as if this were a simple, everyday act.
Witnessing the spectacle, Kelsi doesn't know what to do.
If there’s one thing she knows above all else about her professor, it’s that they never, ever do anything without at least thinking things through. They're too brilliant for that.
That must’ve been why they looked so intently focused on the bench when she arrived here.
But still, why attack her? Why break her weapon?
It all makes no sense!
Her mind pits a battle against itself, warring over Fior's logic. It's futile – idea after idea, explanation after explanation, she can't bring one side to win over the other. Eventually, the raging fires die out, and the battlefield, left desolate, falls silent. Nothing but empty faith remains.
Yes. There must be a reason for all this.
Kelsi rubs her eyes.
Though the soreness from their spar remains, and the grief in her chest over her weapon still pains her, she slings her bag over her shoulders and follows.