My sleep was fitful, to say the least. My mind played cruel ticks on me, convincing me through my dreams that my upcoming duel was against Sarina. But instead of a duel, we met for a friendly skirmish–like we used to. We took our places on either side of Drayek’s and my arena back home. Sarina whirled around to face me, her dark hair with hints of copper red framed her angular face as she smiled.

“You’ve got this, Rayden!” she called across the arena. “I think you have a chance at beating me this time!”

I pulled the simple spear that I’d trained with back home to my side and grinned back at my friend. “Oh, I will beat you this time!”

She and I both knew that wasn’t true. Even before we had both advanced to Tier 1, Sarina had always had the upper hand due to her height and overall adeptness with every weapon. Once I’d begun cultivating and advancing, I could take her on–I’d even beaten her in our duel that the Priests had set up.

But in the timeline of my dream, that duel hadn’t happened yet. Sarina and I were both 15 years old and still trainees.

Sarina dashed at me, a long dagger poised to strike my ribcage. I narrowly dodged her strike, and she stumbled to the left. But she quickly recovered and lightly tapped the butt of her dagger against my shoulder. We continued lunging at one another, laughing and smiling and altogether enjoying the fun we used to have.

For the duration of the entire dream, I was all too aware that it was just that–a dream. But I didn’t want to wake up. I missed the way Sarina’s eyes squinted up in amusement, her brilliant smile, and her overall enjoyment of spending time with me.

But life is cruel. A sharp knock on my dormitory door snagged me away from the pleasant dream. I jolted awake and rubbed my eyes, still feeling half asleep. A large part of me wanted to close my eyes and try to return to the dream, but reality hit me like a splash of bitter-cold water. I needed to answer the door–today was the day of the duel. I needed to accept that and prepare myself.

I found no one at the door but instead saw another slip of parchment resting at my feet. It looked just like the last letter the headmaster had sent to my room.

I scooped up the paper and found the headmaster’s scrawled, swoopy handwriting:

Rayden Grim,

You are expected in Battle Room #15 on the fifth floor 10 minutes before 3:00 in the

afternoon. You are expected to provide your own armor and weapon. As I recall, you arrived

here equipped with both.

You will not receive help from anyone in preparation for your duel. You are expected to last

the allotted 60 seconds based on your own merit. If not, we will not accept you as a student

at the academy.

Good luck!

Headmaster Jaeke Bohin

I walked back into my room and set the letter down on my little desk, feeling my pulse beating hard in my fingertips as I did. My eyes glanced at the glowing numbers hanging just above the desk. Dex’s database had informed me earlier that the black rectangle with green numbers was similar to the clocks and watches back on Edrona; it told time just like they did, but this one only needed numbers. It displayed the time without me having to read the thin hands on one of the clocks back at home. I found reading numbers instead of hands much easier, to be honest.

The numbers read “9:01.” 3:00 in the afternoon was still hours away. I gripped the back of the short chair sitting in front of the desk and leaned into it, anxiety eating away at my gut.

Maybe some breakfast will help, I decided, releasing the chair and moving to my muddy boots that I’d placed next to the door.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

I needed to kill some time and distract my overactive, worried mind. Eating a hot meal was as good a place to start as any. Food will always rank high in the category of “good choices.”

But I had a lot of–no, too much time until 2:50 in the afternoon, the time I’d been requested to arrive at the designated battle room. The title alone of such a room helped me safely assume that that was where they expected Cinthara and me to duel.

I slithered out of my dormitory like a stealthy snake and scurried down the hall past the mingling students traipsing about on the dormitory floor.

However, I didn’t succeed at being as sneaky as I wanted to.

Just before I made it to the winding staircase at the end of the hall, I flattened myself to the rough wall to get by a group of three boys and four girls who all laughed together boisterously. I snuck past each person until my right shoulder bumped into the arm of one of the boys on the end. And I’d been moving so fast that the force made him stumble for a split second.

Growling, the student with the yellow on his sleeves turned to me. “Watch it, newbie! Or you’ll be having more than one duel today!”

The many pairs of eyes on me made my face grow warm. Turned out that lots of people knew about me and my upcoming duel to prove myself. Did that mean they all knew I was just a Tier 2, as well? The academy was a big school, though. Maybe not everyone knew about me… or cared.

But these boys knew of me and cared enough to cause me some trouble.

“Sorry,” I said, raising my hands in surrender. “Just trying to get by you.”

The student drew two steps closer and stared me down over his nose. He was only half a head taller than I, but the annoyance burning in his dark eyes somehow translated to make him seem much larger.

I wasn’t going to let him bully me. I did enough of that with Dorian and his cronies back home. I straightened my back and glared right back.

“Just say when and where,” I retorted, “and I’ll gladly fight you.”

Yeah, that was stupid.

I didn’t expect the punch to my face and still couldn’t process it until seconds after pain exploded in my chin. I grabbed my face and groaned, curling into myself and blocking my face from any more flying fists.

“Try not to draw too much attention to yourself.” Those words, some of Nic’s first words to me yesterday, ran through my head as the aching in my chin traveled through the rest of my face.

Guess I’d failed at accomplishing Nic’s demand. But an actual semblance of intelligence within me (I wasn’t entirely stupid) helped me steel myself from throwing a fist at the bully’s face in return.

The entire group walked away, laughing as they went. I wasn’t establishing a very good start with fostering any decent relationships in this place. I didn’t much yearn for any friendships, but I had at least wanted to avoid any less-than-desirable encounters like the one I’d just had.

“Are you alright?”

I drew in a sharp breath and winced at the shooting pain that even just breathing brought me. I slowly straightened my neck and searched for the source of the soft voice. Cinthara.

“Oh, uh, hi,” I stuttered, impulsively taking a step away from her. She stood so close to me, our noses only inches away.

“Gregory can be a jerk,” she said while shooting a hot glare in the direction the bully had gone. She pointed at my chin. I could feel the bruises forming on both my skin and bones. “I can help you with that if you’d like.”

I defensively put my hands up to my chin. “Why are you being so nice to me?

Cinthara still looked at me with something akin to contempt, especially in the way her lips dug into her face with a scowl that did not suit her otherwise pretty face.

She put down the finger she had pointed at my chin and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just hate bullies.” Her violet eyes scanned my face. “And maybe I just want a healthy opponent to crush in the duel.”

A trace of a smile upturned the edges of her mouth like she had just tried to make a joke, but the smile disappeared just as quickly as I had noticed it.

I lowered my hands and aimed my chin toward her slightly. “How do you plan to help?”

Cinthara winced at the sight of my chin, and I winced right along with her as tendrils of pain continued to shoot through my jaw and face at the slightest movement.

“I have a healing spell,” she said. “Just stay as still as you possibly can.”

Cinthara’s slender fingers danced around each other in circles. Then, a yellow glow dripped from her fingertips like magical water droplets. The droplets soon formed into a small marble-sized ball, and she gently pushed it toward me with an outstretched palm.

I squeezed my eyes shut, half expecting a whole new burst of pain to accompany my injured chin. Why? Because I didn’t trust her. But instead, I felt the impact of a pleasant warmth that started at the tip of my chin and spread through my entire jaw. Soon, I was able to open and close my mouth without any discomfort at all.

“Thanks,” I said freely through a painless mouth.

Cinthara shrugged again, making her long, loose curls bounce all the way down to the ends of her hair that passed her hips. “It was nothing.”

Without another word, she whirled over her shoulder and sped up the winding staircase to another higher floor. I was tempted to follow her, but I couldn’t explain why that temptation arose at all. Was I grateful? No. I mean, yes, but I’ve had much worse injuries, and I could have lived with a bruised chin. It was that pull I felt to get close to her. Maybe it was just my curiosity about why she looked so much like the goddess Euridice or why she acted contemptuously toward me. But if I was being honest with myself, the urge to follow her came from some force I could not name, define, or control.

And why had she even been on this floor? Was her dormitory on the same floor as mine? Had she seen my encounter with Gregory and the others while walking down the stairs? What had made her want to help me at all?

My stomach moaned and begged at me. Sighing heavily through my nose, I decided to drop it and head to the mess hall. I had more than enough time to worry about Cinthara later.