Elemento, as the name might imply, was a game of elements. Not in the same sense that chess was, more of a magical brawl than a game of strategy – but it was. A game of strategy, that is, with a deep nuance to it. Teams were comprised of four players for each common element, facing off against another team of the same number. Each player dedicated to one element entirely, using any others against regulation. Earth, air, water, and fire, unlike blitzball it was an old sport – one that had existed for so long that people had forgotten its origin.

The crowd roared, a close quarters brawl that elicited such excitement to mark it unique to other pastimes, and it was massively popular among the colleges. Four players, four zones, and a very specific area in which one could cast, a pile of rocks or reservoir of water, there was no allowance for summoning raw elemental mana for anyone but fire mages. All of it was physical 'bending' and it was very taxing on both body and mind. Brenn had grown up watching these bare knuckled brawls in the Krieg, coming to love it for what it was – and She, his goddess, had sent him dreams that would bring him to play in earnest. Earning a spot on the second-team of Amistad's Red Dragon.

“Brennwulf is dodging, he's weaving! And by golly that's a knockout!” The announcer cried frantically into his megaphone. Brenn liked these announcers, they were an energetic sort possessive of a unique kind of skill. “Sayonara to Chet Proudstar of the White Yeti, courtesy of a face full of gods honest rock! For those unaware, that means you just got your bell rung in the western tongue, roughly translated!”

Brenn favored earth, he wasn't much of an archetypal mage in his opinion unlike so many others – but he could do that much. All of his other friends favored the blitz, and Iscari couldn't participate, leaving him alone. Tyr had said he'd been interested in sports, but opted not to play for whatever reason it was that made him act in the way that he did.

“And that's half-time folks! 3-2 in favor of the Red Dragon, and I have a feeling things will only get more spicy in the later quarters!”

What followed, as always, was a trip back to what they called the 'locker rooms'. Lockers because of the... Well, one could make the connection. Brenn winced, sitting down on the bench present astride those very same lockers, covered in sweat. It was exhausting, one of the many mysteries of magic, manipulating natural elements being more difficult and taxing than creating them anew from mana. No face given to the concept of equivalent exchange.

“Oh, man!” Steven cooed. The Red Dragon wasn't known for their athletics, their blitzball team did fairly well but they'd always been academic at heart, the only thing they excelled in were magic duels. But this year, courtesy of some new additions to both pitch and arena, their team sports were performing quite well. “You were a monster out there!”

Brenn grimaced uncomfortably, thankful for the praise but aware that this was one of the weaker teams on the ladder. 'The Yeti', another academy in Amistad, called themselves their rivals. Maybe in blitzball, but in everything else it was the Serpent Azure. In any event, he didn't feel great about his performance, this was more than he'd been prepared for. A violent, barbaric exhibition held aloft and watched by from the raised seats of an arena surrounding the pillar as they beat one another into submission. But most concerning of all, he enjoyed it, more than most things he'd done in his life. Something about the brutality of it all excited him, reminding him of his younger years in the Krieg, except this time he was the one in control. It was infectious, that sense of superiority.

“For real, I could literally hear the rock slapping that guy in the face, and a hat trick to boot.” Garth laughed, consummate athlete and captain of the blitzball team. A bit sketchy how he claimed to have had relations with Alexis Goldmane, but she insisted she could 'handle it'. “Glad you're here, brother.”

“Yeah.” Brenn smiled. Surprising himself again... “Me too.”

All for Her vision. Her one direct request, simply to 'be ready'. As happy as he was to have found a past-time he genuinely enjoyed, calling it foreboding would be an understatement.

–

Rasping bristles against the surface of a canvas... There was something so real and visceral about seeing that new, white sheet, and holding a palette in your hands. The world was your oyster, anything and everything you could imagine, all put to canvas. The sounds, the smells, the idea that her hands were permanently altering this pristine material forever. It would never be the same after her brush marked it. Alex came from an absurdly wealthy family, but for all her arrogance she'd still like to believe the Goldmane's were down to earth. Their people loved them, waved hello, and Gideon had never mistreated them. Asha, on the other hand, her mother... She was a good woman, but a harsh one, even cruel at times. They were a family well taken to the arts, not so common for a northern house, all told.

Asha liked oil paints, and thought watercolors were 'for children'. Alex liked them the best though, seeing the canvas soak up the moisture and send little ripples radiating from the tip of her brush. Sometimes pastel, if she wanted to make something she planned to show someone, but watercolors were her favorite. She smiled at the rapidly receding white of the sheet as it was filled with a part of herself, something that could be seen and touched, felt.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Contrary to what many believed, Alex was timid, she knew this about herself. An introvert that found communication with other people so incredibly difficult. Compared to the others, she felt that she must've been the most reserved – it made it hard to develop true friendships. Astrid, for example, seemed quiet on the surface but was outgoing as anyone else if you got to know her or started a conversation on a topic of interest. Alex wanted to be like that, to be bold and say what she really wanted to, everything these days felt like an act. She had to do this, say that, because of her status and family, but nobody could tell her what to paint and that's why she liked it. Sculpting, too, when she had the impulse to create.

“You're so talented.” Leda sighed, she was the TA for the advanced theorem course Alex attended and had become something of a tag-along. As to why, Alex had no clue – but she didn't dislike her. Leda was outgoing and easy to talk to, kind and while a bit awkward... She was very 'bossy', a domineering big sister type that when she felt comfortable became the kind of person that asked you three times a day if you've eaten or not. “Why don't you show people these? I had no idea you could paint like this.”

The room was dimly lit, only by the sliver of light allowed through the window, just enough to ignite her ebony black hair and piercing violet eyes. She smiled softly back at the other woman, Leda thought that this must surely be the most beautiful human to ever live. Even if she was a bit inexpressive and far too businesslike in demeanor, it only enhanced the cool beauty. Astrid, also a member of their class, was the complete opposite. Alex was dark, refined and almost haunting, like a statue sitting in the eye of a hurricane – she had sharply angled brows and always dressed in the utilitarian fashion of a mage. Muted colors always, mostly black. Astrid was like a spring meadow, just as beautiful but cheery and bright, so expressive and quick to laughter. A happy girl, but Leda would never have used any of the synonyms for that word to describe Alexis Goldmane.

“Not many do.” Alex replied wistfully, Leda was just so easy to talk to. It wasn't like their conversations ever got serious, it could be about anything. She was very thankful to meet someone that so clearly wanted to be with her. It wasn't as if the others didn't, necessarily, but she'd felt like a third wheel for quite some time. “I'm glad you like it, I wasn't sure. But it doesn't have to look good, these aren't for display. They are for me, and me alone.”

“I get that.” Leda chuckled. “So broody and serious, dark lady Alex. The future archmage and prodigal talent that strikes fear into the hearts of men. What would they all say if they found out your unabashed love for puppies, kittens, and painting?”

“I've never hidden my hobbies, I would feel no shame if they knew of my dalliances.” Alex frowned. Leda was about to begin picking at her until they had one of those 'deep conversations' she so loved to have. “And everyone likes dogs, cats are alright but I don't love them. I guess there is a lot you don't know about me after all.” She jabbed back with a soft turn to her lips. The weather was so nice, and best of all there was soundproofing on the walls so she didn't have to hear the goofing off of other students outside in the courtyard.

“If they knew.” Leda mused, lounging back in a reclining armchair and toying with the stack of papers she was supposed to be grading. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't have many friends, and I think if people knew you weren't so cold – you'd have more of those.”

“...” Alex would've said something about not needing friends, about being independent and uninterested in forcing temporary relationships. It wasn't a lie, but it was a half truth. She was and always had been a product of her environment like anyone else. “You are my friend.”

“Of course I am.” Leda smiled widely. “And I'm glad we are, but that's not the point.”

“I am afraid.” Alex said, cutting to the chase. Finding little interest in talking around it, and even less in lying to the woman. Someone who had said quite boldly that she didn't care who she was, and made it such an easy thing to bond, something she was not experienced in. “I fear rejection most of all, but I also don't like the idea of revealing myself to someone and having them use that against me. Or forget who I am entirely, I am a very sensitive person and I am eaten up by these anxieties.”

“It must be hard, being the scion of one of the most powerful houses on the continent.” Leda joked, inappropriate given the context but Alex didn't mind. “Infinite wealth, blessed with beauty and talent, you're right – it must be hard to make friends with qualifications like that.”

“It is.” Alex frowned, stepping back from the canvas and finding what inspiration that had tugged her here washing away. It was like that, sometimes she'd finish half a painting and never touch it again, this one being an image of a stormy sea split by a single rock. A penciled frame of a woman perched upon it, a dream she'd had multiple nights in a row. “I hated middle-school, you know? Everyone was afraid of me, which at first wasn't all bad, but that fear turned to jealousy and they began to lash out. Excluding me from things. Worse... I had a best friend since practically the day I was born and when we were separated I was left alone, and...”

“I get it.” Leda stood up from her chair and walked over. The benefits of being a highborn were many, but the burdens were something few considered when judging them. Alex had not been born to lead her house, she had two older brothers – and they'd both abdicated their positions. Forcing her to take the reins at a relatively late age to begin a process of grooming. Forced into the college proper, constantly hounded by this or that activity, she wasn't bad with people if business was involved, but not so great if it was anything else. “I'm sorry I brought it up.”

“Don't be.” Alex replied. “It's really nice to talk about it.”

“Want to get some dinner?”

“I would like that.”

Her gaze lingered on the closed door to the forge hall, hesitation for a moment – consternation plain on her face. Not today, but soon, shaking her head and walking slowly so as to allow her friend to keep up with her.