A sharp sound of a surely, lively cry reaches my ears.

The space here is large. Connected to the outdoors by way of a platform, I spot an area the size of a courtroom, made solely for the purposes of ranged shooting, with students practising archery, gunplay, and magic on targets far away. As I round the corner, I notice a few familiar faces and wave, though make no further attempts at conversation.

“Pretty nice, eh?”

We make our way down the wooden hallway, separated from the ‘range’ room by way of walls.

I nod. “I like the atmosphere; it’s cool to see people engage passionately in things they like.”

He nods back, reaffirming my belief. “You should see this place on weekends, now that is atmosphere.” Seeing my subtle confusion, he adds, “They have competitions here sometimes, sword fights, magic duels, everything, really.”

“You participate?”

“Of course. You could, too, you know?”

In response, I mutter a word under my breath.

“Emea.”

Prompted by the mana in my body, a dagger pools in the palm of my right hand, sharp and distinct with wavy patterns. This, I show to Ode’go, though hold it blade first (just to be safe).

“Know how to use that?” Asks the catboy in a voice that so deftly invites a response.

“Who knows,” I reply, a wry grin on my face. “Guess you’ll just have to find out, huh?”

“Duly noted.”

Releasing my spell, the dagger then dissipates, becoming little more than ash in the wind.

We step into the other part of the training room. This, in stark opposition to the ‘range’ room, is an area designed specifically for melee. The floor here is completely made of rubber, and alongside the walls are adorned countless weapons, swords, staves, and shields. Here, I see several rings, too, with people fighting in one on ones, and two on twos… and basically every conceivable number imaginable.

Whatmore is the presence of people sitting on the sidelines, dressed in otherwise normal clothing, but wearing a badge with the word ‘Healer’ inscribed.

“Things get pretty intense, huh?

I hear a ‘heh’ from the boy beside me. “Sometimes they like to fight for real, you know?”

“I know.”

My response is that of impartial acknowledgement. So long as two people exist, two people are going to want to fight. And if prevention is utterly impossible, then at least having healers at hand to prevent any otherwise unsavoury outcome is logical. Arranged duels were, and continue to be an accepted way to resolve disputes. Insisting on otherwise, I find, is rather meaningless.

“Hm.”

Ode’go, standing on the sideline, hand on chin, eyes on a ring, and cat ears perking (quite cutely might I add), swerves to face me. By now, I would like to say that I can figure out why.

“Well, let’s get going.”

I’m right.

We depart without another word. The time we’ve spent here has reached whatever imaginary countdown there is. And though I find it a slight shame, I also know that we can come back any other time. As of the moment, we’ve stepped past the long hallway connecting the two areas into the ranged room to leave the training zone. And as of this precise moment, is when a familiar elf—with messy and long blonde hair appears within view. Situated just shy of the exit, the elf, or should I say Harux, steps forward, seemingly eager to try his hand at the range.

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Of all the times he could appear, right now could not be more convenient. Undoubtedly sharing the sentiment, Ode’go approaches, a friendly spring in his walk.

“Hey,” he greets, clearly playing at being friendly. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” Harux lifts a hand towards us in acknowledgement. “Those are some cool daggers you got there.”

“I know, right?

“Yeah! I mean, I’ve never seen a dagger with so many big spikes on the back! They kinda look like pine trees actually. The ones on mine are pretty small you know.”

“Well,” Ode’go remarks, draping his arm around Harux in a fraternal gesture. “You know what they say, it’s not about the size, but about what you can do with it, eh?”

“Uh huh,” Harux nods in agreement. “I’m a lot shorter than a bear but I can still hunt one!”

Ode’go beams with a heartfelt smile, “Tell you what, me and you,” he points, alternating between himself and Harux. “Next weekend, we go hunt some bears together; how’d you like that?”

“Alright! Bear meat tastes pretty good, you know.”

“Just imagining it is enough to get a man hungry.”

In the bask of their newfound friendship, a brief period of silence ensues.

“Harux, want to know a little secret of mine?”

“Hm? What’s it about?”

“It’s uhh...” He inhales dramatically, licking his lips. “A little embarrassing to say, but I’m actually kinda hungry right now.”

“Uhh,” Harux starts rummaging through his sling bag. “Here,” he offers, holding up an energy bar.

Ode’go refuses, shaking his head. “I appreciate the offer, oh I do, but you see, Harux, right now I’m hungry for something a little less… literal.”

“Hmm, I think I kinda get it.” Harux’s expression shifts into a sly grin.

Brimming with eagerness, Ode’go nods and releases his grip on Harux. He then walks five paces back, putting an arm's length of distance between the two.

“Man on man, best of one, what do you say?”

“Wait, Odego,” I try to interrupt. Has he forgotten our purpose here?

Ode’go keeps his signature grin and replies, “Please, Morgana, let me handle this.”

I stare at him in turn, nodding. Ode’go isn’t stupid; that much I’ve gathered over the past few days. So, if he really thinks this’ll work, then I’m going to choose to believe in him.

In the meantime, I study Harux, watching his reaction.

“Just what I was waiting for!”

With his body poised, the boy leaps back before drawing his blade in a single swift motion.

Hm.

His sword is peculiar. It looks to be almost sickle-shaped, with a slight dipping curve, halfway along the blade’s length. Aoel is home to many variations of swords, but even with that in mind, I can say that I’ve never seen one made in such a fashion.

The elf readies the blade, keeping it forward. Then, with his lips in motion, utters an incantation.

“Canticum Errum.”

Over the course of the next two seconds, Harux’s veins begin to bulge against his skin while blue light, twisting like webs, spreads across his body. In this moment, I understand that I’m bearing witness to body enhancement magic. When I realise, I immediately find myself in slight but curious surprise.

Most mages in Aoel prefer ranged combat, thus prioritising offensive spells.

And even on the off-chance that they wanted defensive capabilities, Aoelian mages would usually opt for measures like terraforming the environment to erect walls or conjuring protective shields. Then again, maybe the situation in Faerindt, where elves live, is different. Being an Elf through and through, Harux’s repertoire of magic likely diverges from the Aoelian norm, drawing power from his pointy-eared heritage instead.

“Very good, Harux!”

In response to his adversary’s display of power, Ode’go lowers his centre of gravity and, with a quick motion of his right hand, holds his dagger in an reverse grip. Keeping the blade opposite to his thumb.

I bring myself to analysis, musing over the strategic merits.

“Hm.”

It’s a peculiar choice.

Attacks unleashed from this grip hold more power and leverage at the downside of sacrificing range. But is range something that warrants abandon in this case?

Harux naturally holds the advantage, with one hand free for magic and a sword that’s three times as long as Ode’go’s dagger. Should the catboy even make a slight misstep, a quick spell to a downward slash would surely render the fight over.

And yet…