“Make a friend?” Alistair teased lightly when Koth’talan walked back in.

If one didn’t know Alistair as well as Liliana did, they might not even notice the subtle strain in his tone that belied his calm demeanor. Zir’elon was testing all of their patience, and Liliana could only hope they got private waiting rooms or Zir’elon was knocked out soon. If only for the prince’s own safety.

“I’m not sure. He asked to spar again sometime.” Koth’talan sounded vaguely lost, as if the notion of making friends was still an utterly foreign concept to him.

Perhaps it was all the friends he had now had more or less shoehorned themselves into his life. Liliana had to wonder, were they his first friends? The environment he’d grown up in wasn’t one that encouraged friends. His entire life, he’d undoubtedly had to wonder if anyone offering a hand in friendship was simply a ploy from one of his siblings in some new scheme to kill him.

Such an upbringing did not encourage proficiency in social skills. The Academy would be the first place he’d ever been where his siblings had little to no influence, where he could actually make friends without fear that they’d sink a poisoned dagger in his back.

“You should. Sparring against the same people can make you stagnant. More sparring partners can only enhance your skills.” Liliana suggested, wording it in a way that would be more comfortable for Koth’talan.

Friendship and connections were still strange and terrifying because of the newness of it. However, combat and fighting were something familiar to the prince. Progression was necessary and therefore a justifiable reason to build a relationship, even if the prince wouldn’t realize he had made a friend until it was too late to back out of it. But that would be best for him. Koth’talan deserved to have friends, to be a kid, just like the rest of them.

“Yes. Perhaps I shall take him up on it.” Koth’talan nodded, relaxing slightly when the offer was newly framed as nothing more than a way to advance his skills further.

Emyr shot a glance at Liliana, eyebrow raising and lips twisted in a half smirk. He knew exactly what she was doing and found it amusing. Liliana rolled her eyes at him and quirked a brow, asking him if he had a better way of doing it with her expression.

A subtle shrug and minute shake of his head told her he had no issue with what she’d done and doubted Koth’talan would’ve accepted the offer if it’d been framed as simply an overture of friendship. Liliana nodded firmly. She knew that she wasn’t dumb. Emyr snorted and shook his head, looking back at the illusion and ending the silent conversation.

“It’s so weird when you two do that.” Rathwater said, sounding faintly amused and more than a bit wary.

“Do what?” Liliana asked, half her attention on the illusion where Dunstan was summoning his army of automatons.

Even in the tournament, the boy had no originality, no sense of style in his creations. Many in her class had grown, but some still remained stagnant, unwilling or unable to change. Animation was an amazing affinity, but it was limited to the user’s imagination. A user with a boundless imagination was a real threat with that affinity, but someone stuck in a box was ultimately doomed to fail.

“Have an entire conversation without saying a word.” Rathwater shook his head, looking mystified. In that one sentence, it became incredibly clear Rathwater was both an only child and had likely as few friends growing up as Koth’talan had.

“We’ve known each other for a long time. It’s just something that… happens?” Liliana clumsily explained, holding her hands up in surrender.

How did you properly describe the depths of a connection you had with someone who had seen you at your best and worst? Who had saved your life time and again, and you theirs in return? How did you explain a bond that was built brick by brick, with aching slowness, mortar made of blood, tears, oaths and promises?

How did you explain that when you had seen all of someone that reading their thoughts in the quirk of a lip, the shimmer in their eyes and the slight adjustments of their body was as natural as breathing?

Liliana didn’t need a mind reading skill to know what Emyr or Alistair were thinking at any given moment, and she hardly ever needed [Telepathy] to let them know what was on her own mind. As much as they were open books to her eyes, she was one to them as well.

“It’s… admirable,” Rathwater said finally, his voice faintly wistful, his eyes holding traces of envy that said for all he tried to shy away from others, for entirely different reasons than Koth’talan, he wanted the connections he witnessed.

Liliana felt a surge of protectiveness, of something akin to claiming if she had to put a name on it, though she wouldn’t say it was the right one, flutter in her heart. She did have a habit of picking up strays. Any of her friends could put credence to that claim.

If friends, if a sense of belonging, were something Rathwater sought, then Liliana would make sure he found it. He might not realize yet that he had as much a place in their group of friends as Koth’talan and Anya did, but he’d understand, eventually. In Liliana’s opinion, there was no such thing as too many allies or friends to have.

The more people she could call hers in her life, the stronger she was. She had overcome her assumption that she needed to face the world alone and had seen the strength she could bring to bear with others lending their own to her. There were many different kinds of strength, and Liliana would not limit and weaken herself by denying any of them.

The conversation with the quiet Rathwater come to an end, Liliana turned her attention fully back to the illusion.

“Oh, I want wings like that.” Liliana sighed as Liliac Murrish of class A, Dunstan’s opponent, grew wings made of pure darkness.

Looking at them was akin to looking into the void itself, nothing but a black so deep it absorbed the light around them. They were so large they easily dwarfed the girl as she took to the air with great heaves of the new limbs that created gusts so powerful the automatons approaching her were tossed back.

“Make some then,” Marianne shrugged, as if the answer was obvious and Liliana leaned forward, eyes glued to Murrish’s form.

Wings, enabling a true flight skill like Murrish was using as she dove and twisted in the air like a bird of prey, were something she desperately wanted. The uses of such limbs in a battle would be beneficial as well. Damage to created limbs like that wouldn’t touch her own Health, only her Mana if it was a channel or if she had to reform them.

They could be used defensively if they were big enough, and mobile enough, to wrap around her, and she could use them as weapons to batter and push back opponents. The benefits were numerous. Though if Liliana was honest, her motivation was based on the fact that wings looked really cool, not because they would help her in battle.

She would never claim to be someone who didn’t put stock in appearance. She had a dancer class, for goodness’ sake. Her penchant for the spotlight and performance was abundantly obvious even to the System.

Liliana ran through her available affinities, trying to determine which one she could force to her will to fashion her own wings. Truly, the only ones she could reasonably use were Wind or Light. The rest of hers weren’t skills that created something material.

She was sure she could give her astral form wings if she wanted, but it was pointless as her astral form was already essentially a ghost. Wind would be difficult. It was a physical element, but it wasn’t inclined towards making things. It preferred movement, not staying stagnant.

Light would be her best bet, and she had a high enough mastery that it would be easier to make wings out of that element than out of a new element if she unlocked one specifically for the purpose. Training a new element to a point where she could get some type of control over it to form even something small, let alone large limbs like wings, would take her months. If not an entire year to get to that point.

After the tournament, during our small break between semesters, I’ll have to focus on trying to create wings. It’ll be fun to introduce a new flashy skill like that in our first Battle Training class in the second semester. Liliana thought with a smile as the fight proceeded on the illusion.

Murrish was running circles around Dunstan, despite his numerous automatons. He had no Wind affinity himself, so he couldn’t get any of his creations airborne. It meant he was left sending shots at her from the ground and having his automatons throw created boulders and projectiles at her, all of which Murrish evaded with a proficiency and speed that had Liliana dying to face the girl herself. Her favorite opponents were ones that matched her speed and truly pushed her.

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Murrish seemed content to do nothing more than avoid attacks, darting around the coliseum as if she was out for a leisurely afternoon flight, dipping and diving gracefully. The match ticked on, Dunstan getting more and more frustrated with every missed shot and minute that passed as Murrish seemed to disregard the fact they were in a match at all.

She appeared entirely content to show off her impressive flying skills to the audience, making daring maneuvers that had even Liliana gasping along.

Murrish was treating this like a performance rather than a battle. That fact became abundantly clear as the match reached the point where it was the longest time yet for a fight since the start of the second round.

All eyes were on Murrish as her void black wings fluttered in the air, propelling her through it. Which meant it came as a surprise to the entire audience when the match was called to an end rather suddenly, Murrish declared the victor. Liliana’s eyes darted to Dunstan, who she had forgotten had even been on the sands. His shield was a bright neon red.

“What?” Liliana blurted, utterly confused as Murrish dove for the ground, wings tucked around her and snapping out scant feet from the ground.

Liliana was certain if she could hear it, a thunderous crack would’ve sounded as the wings made of darkness caught her from plowing into the ground. Murrish’s feet lit delicately upon the ground and she bowed to the audience, wings spread out behind her. When she stood back up, the wings wrapped around her form, vanishing like smoke in the wind, leaving a smiling and waving Murrish behind as she pranced off the battlefield.

“She was distracting all of us, even Dunstan, while she did something to him.” Emyr said, voice impressed.

Alistair let out a low whistle as his eyebrows traveled up his forehead. None of them had noticed that Dunstan was being hurt during Murrish’s performance, and that was more than slightly terrifying. More than anything they had seen witnessed in the matches so far, a death you never saw coming, never even noticed, was a horrifying thing.

Beautiful nightmare was a title Liliana would readily give to Murrish, and the urge to face the girl herself rose. Even if she didn’t fight her today, she hoped the girl got into class S, or Liliana could find her later and ask her to spar. The things she could learn from someone like that.

“What kind of affinity could even do that?” Marianne asked in a hushed voice.

“Poison?” Rathwater offered up.

“Plague? Death?” Liliana added in.

There were several affinities with skills and spells that wouldn’t leave a visible marker of their effects. There were clear poisons that could be aerosolized if mixed with a Gas or Wind affinity. They’d already seen someone use an Acid affinity in a similar manner, though that one had been harrowingly obvious.

Though Levy’s tactics had probably been so obvious for the express purpose of instilling hopelessness and fear in his opponent.

“Soul, Psyche, even attacks hidden behind illusions could do it,” Marianne added on and Liliana nodded with a frown.

Murrish had done something few so far had managed. She’d kept the majority of her affinities hidden. The only ones she’d obviously used were Dark and Wind. There was no telling how many others she had, what other tricks she had up her sleeve, and that made her a dangerous threat for whoever faced her next.

She was clever and intelligent in a way her performance had done much to hide until the end. Anyone watching her had undoubtedly assumed she was disrespectful and empty-headed. Up until she ‘killed’ someone without ever laying a hand on them, all while keeping the entire audience’s attention on her.

Had she been able to take out Dunstan the entire time, and only waited until the point where she could be sure no one was watching him to strike? Had the entire fight been a calculated? How had she knocked out Dunstan without anyone, even presumably Dunstan, noticing? Liliana had so many questions she wanted answered, and she couldn’t help but suspect that was all part of Murrish’s plan as well.

The tournament was as much a performance as a series of fights. It was essentially a very violent talent show. The entire purpose of it was to show off what they could do. To generate interest from older students and forge alliances and partnerships between more experienced, or more powerful, people with up-and-coming talent. And Murrish had certainly gained herself the lion’s share of attention with her fight.

Even if she didn’t end up in the finals, Murrish would have offers of mentorship and partnerships before the start of the next semester or Liliana would eat one of her daggers. If the girl stayed in class A and wasn’t moved to class S too, Liliana would lose faith in the Academy as a whole. Barring a truly terrible showing on her exams, Murrish deserved to be in class S.

“My turn,” Diana said softly as she walked towards the door, shooting a hesitant look back at Liliana and her group.

Emyr didn’t glance in her direction, as if he hadn’t heard the girl speak. Marianne sniffed delicately, arms crossing and jaw clenching. Alistair gave Liliana a look, raising an eyebrow, and Liliana gave him a minute shrug of her shoulders. She wouldn’t demand any of her friends forgive Diana for what she did. Diana had hurt them too with her actions, and Liliana wouldn’t ask them to forgive that without an apology.

“Good luck,” Liliana turned to Diana with an encouraging smile.

Diana smiled back, tensed shoulders relaxing. She waited in the doorway for a moment longer, hopeful eyes bouncing between the others in the group. Rathwater offered her a smile and Alistair turned to give her a silent nod, but the rest pretended as if she didn’t exist.

Much as she had done to them for months.

Diana’s shoulders slumped as she slipped out of the door, and Liliana’s heart twinged painfully. But it was nothing more than the consequences of the girl’s own actions, however justified they had been. Every choice had consequences of some kind, and Liliana had a feeling Diana was learning this fact. Every action had an equal and opposite reaction, and Liliana couldn’t, wouldn’t, fix Diana’s problems and mistakes for her. Gods knew she had enough of her own to deal with.

If Diana wanted her friends back, she needed to repair the damage she had done herself. Make her reparations and let the hurt parties decide if they were good enough, if they would permit someone who had already betrayed them, hurt them, back in their life. Liliana couldn’t do that for her, and couldn’t force her friends to forgive Diana even if she did apologize to them. They had every right to be mad, to never forgive Diana even if she begged on hands and knees.

Diana walked onto the sands and gold changed hands as bets were made, more than a few bets were made against Diana in favor of Audrey Wilkins of class C. Liliana couldn’t tell if the others honestly thought Wilkins would win or if it was done purely out of petty spite. With many of her friends, it could be either.

Rules were read, several of her friends mouthing them with exaggerated expressions that spawned giggles and chuckles before the shields were formed and the match called to start.

Diana almost immediately summoned a pillar of earth to shoot herself into the air. It gave her the high ground and would prevent any melee fighter from easily getting her, while letting her rain attacks down on them from on high.

Wilkins watched the move with a deceptive laziness, one hand raised to shield her eyes from the sunlight as she watched. When Diana reached the height she wanted, Wilkins finally moved, summoning smooth rocks, no bigger than a fist, and shooting them into the thick tower of earth and rock Diana had crafted.

Wilkins looked around for a moment before jumping back several yards and, in what was obviously an unnecessary motion, snapped her fingers.

Diana’s tower exploded.

The stones Wilkins had placed combusted, tens of miniature bombs going off at once and turning Diana’s tower to rubble in seconds. Sand, rock and clods of dirt flew across the coliseum, some colliding with the shield protecting the audience.

Diana tumbled from her spot, mouth opened in a silent scream and she twisted desperately in the air. She caught herself with a gust of wind feet from the ground, just barely saving herself. Wilkins frowned from her spot but summoned more of her stones, undoubtedly imbued with exploding properties, and didn’t give Diana much of a chance to reorientate herself before she sent her barrage of deadly projectiles at the girl.

Diana was forced on the defensive, but in an ironic twist, Wilkins’ assault allowed Diana to show off her proficiency with multiple elements. Diana switched between elements with a fluidity that many would envy.

Walls of water, gusts of winds so strong they knocked entire salvos of the exploding stones away, walls and shields of stones and earth, constructs made of darkness and light. Diana didn’t hesitate to bring every element she had to bear. Her capability to seamlessly weave multiple elements together kept her safe, even as she slowly herded Wilkins around the sands.

As the fight progressed, the sands of the coliseum slowly became a hellscape Liliana had only seen the likeness of in textbook pictures of war zones. Great, jagged craters from deflected bombs littered the ground and rubble from destroyed defenses left the footing unstable and treacherous.

Diana had far less trouble than Wilkins in keeping her balance, easily manipulating the ground under her to make a pathway even while throwing up shields and blocks with whatever element she chose to implement in the moment. The fight was almost at a standstill, Diana stuck on the defensive and Wilkins unable to get past the mage’s expert defenses.

Wilkins was so absorbed in trying to overpower Diana that she didn’t notice she was being lead, and when she took a step back only to find air, her arms windmilling before her body tumbled down into a crater her own missed attacks had created, Diana finally switched gears.

A raging torrent of water shaped like a great serpent with its mouth open wide poured into the crater, boulders the size of horses plummeted down mercilessly, pushed to greater speeds by whipping winds, and a snarling wolf made of flames and darkness pounced the second the water disappeared.

Again and again Diana pumped spell after spell onto the downed Wilkins, never allowing the girl to regain her feet and keeping her advantage with a grim determination until Wilkins’ shield was turned red and the match called to an end, Diana declared the victor.

Liliana let out a low breath, lungs aching. She’d scarcely breathed during Diana’s attack. Once more, it was made blatantly apparent to her just how much her peers had grown in the months since they joined the Academy.

Monsters at their level rarely required any kind of strategic thinking further than ‘hit it until it dies’. Many of them had come to the Academy cocky and reckless. They’d been forced to learn to be creative, thoughtful in their fights once they were faced with opponents that could think and strategize. The tournament was showing, at least Liliana, that many of them had taken the lessons they’d learned in their classes seriously.

It made her wonder, if six months could change them this much, what would four years do?