“Kat, are you absolutely sure about this?”

The concern in Val’s voice glanced off Katya like a blunted arrowhead off a fortress wall. She was locked on to the back of the tall, blonde man stretching out the muscles of his shoulders across the training ground. Katya stood against one of the thin pillars that lined the area, twirling the gold coin her brother had presented between her fingers.

“Oh, I’m sure,” came Katya’s response.

The challenge had been both given and accepted in a few heartbeats, but the opponents were given ample time to prepare as the field was staged for combat. Two servants, part of the interloper’s retinue, lit the ancient crystal lamps scattered around the field as another three ran stiff brooms over the hard-packed earth between the two groups, kicking up dust. Only half of the lamps would still ignite, but it looked as if the combined light of those that worked would be enough.

A smattering of laughter came from Katya’s relatives.

“Your brother’s quite tall,” Val ventured, “How old is he?”

“Ralt’s ten years older than me,” Katya replied, “My oldest brother, and second oldest sibling.”

“Can he fight?”

“Oh yeah, he can fight.”

Ralt drew the curved sabres from their scabbards on his waist and swung them left and right, rolling the blades elegantly as he continued his warm up. Val couldn’t help but notice the similarities in the way he handled the blades to the grace with which Katya swung her own enormous greatsword. But it was, Val realised with no small anxiety, a much more refined elegance, a level of effortlessness and skill that made Katya seem like a child swinging a tree branch by comparison, even as he ran through the most basic series of movements.

Val looked back at Katya, but she clearly did not share his concerns. She had the same hungry look of battle lust that Val had been accustomed to seeing in the moments before she would cut through some group of hapless monsters in the Labyrinth below.

“What level is he?” Val asked.

“No idea,” Katya answered, “But he’s been adventuring with the Swallowtails since he left the academy, so I can’t imagine it’s low.”

“Honestly Kat,” Val said, “I… I’m not sure this is such a great idea. I mean, I have so many questions.”

One of the servant’s hollered to Ralt, who acknowledged the call with a brief nod. All the lamps fit to be lit were now blazing feebly and a rough circle, about five metres across, had been carved into the dusty training ground. Ralt moved away from the rest of the group and approached the circle.

“You’ve got time for one,” Katya replied.

“Can you just explain to me why you have to fight your brother?” Val asked.

Katya offered Val the thick gold coin and, almost out of reflex, he took it from her.

“Because I’m not going to let him take this from me,” she said simply, then before he could ask anything further, turned and hefted her sword, swinging it left and right across her body and walked toward the circle.

Val watched her move away. He noticed that the rest of the group, the ones Katya greeted as her cousins, had hung back, so he did the same.

As Ralt and Katya reached the circle and stepped inside, one of the cousins, a short woman in a set of grey robes that marked her as a clerk-arbiter of the gilt council, stepped forward from the others.

“A challenge has been made!” she boomed, in a voice much larger than her slight frame belied, “A price has been offered for the ownership of the Patrician’s guild by the first son of the Knetsov family, claiming right of inheritance over all guild properties, members and council voting representation.”

Val glanced at the coin in his hand, incredulous.

“The recipient of the challenge has accepted the terms of combat,” the clerk-arbiter concluded, remaining in her chosen spot, a few steps closer to the battleground than any of the others.

In the circle, Katya and Ralt squared off. Ralt retained the smug, easy smile he’d carried with him into the guild hall plastered across his face, and Katya returned his energy with a barely concealed contempt.

“What?” she asked, “Bozhena wasn’t interested in taking this from me?”

“She’s very comfortable where she is,” Ralt returned, amusement in his voice, “She’s just been made ward of the Third Century, haven’t you heard?”

Katya’s lip twitched.

“So why are you here?” she queried, “I would’ve thought that Forgelight were treating you very well.”

“I’ve been thinking about going independent for a while, you know?” Ralt shrugged, “I’ve had the feelers out for a while, looking for a core team and a place to build a hall. Imagine my surprise when the re-establishment of our predecessor’s guild was announced at the quarterly council update. Seemed like fate.”

Katya chuckled and pulled up her sword, aiming the tip at Ralt’s chest.

“Gods,” she muttered, “Some things never change.”

Ralt drew his sabres and crossed them in front of him. The expertly crafted blades shimmered in the flickering crystal-light.

“No,” he retorted, “They never do.”

Ralt’s feet burst into blue flame as he shot forward, leaving a trail of burnt earth behind him as he almost flew toward Katya. He uncrossed his blades in two wide, sweeping blows, but Katya was ready for him. She threw herself to the right, pulling her blade in tight and rolling quickly to her feet as Ralt skidded to a halt a few steps behind where she was.

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Ralt turned quickly, ready for a counterattack, but instead found Katya standing ready, a small smile on her face.

“Exhibit one,” Katya quipped, “I’ve seen that opening gambit a hundred times before.”

Ralt’s smug smile faltered for the first time, but his confidence was unaffected. As a response, he charged his blades with a lightning element spell, sending sparks rippling up the blades. He tensed, ready to spring forward.

Katya dropped to one knee.

“Hold!” the grey-robed clerk-arbiter cried out.

Ralt’s anger bubbled to the surface.

“What are you doing?!” he demanded, letting the electricity in his blades disperse “We’re just getting started!”

“Refresh!” Katya yelled, loud enough for everyone to hear, ignoring Ralt’s question.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” Ralt spat.

“A combatant has requested a refresh!” the clerk-arbiter declared loudly, “Both warriors must return to the circle in two minutes!”

Katya shot upward and walked quickly out of the circle toward Val, who moved to meet her.

“What’s going on?” he asked her as they met a little away from the circle.

“Old duelling rules,” she answered quietly, “I’m glad she allowed it.”

Behind her, Ralt waited in the circle, pacing impatiently.

“Okay, what’s the plan?” Val whispered.

“I need you to buff me,” Katya said under her breath, “That skill, Blue Streak, he’s got to be at least thirty levels stronger than me. If he’d hit me, the fight would have been over. You’ve got to use that skill on me.”

“Kat -”

“It’s allowed! It’s fine,” Katya interrupted, “You’re my second, you’re allowed to buff or heal me as hard as you want. I need you to use Fastus Patri on me, or he’s going to take everything from me, from us.”

Val stared at Katya’s face, absorbing the undercurrent of barely disguised panic in her voice.

“I don’t know how!” he said, “It’s… I haven’t worked out how to use it!”

Val exhaled a heavy breath and glanced at the palm of his hand.

‘Val, please.” Katya was coming as dangerously close to begging as she ever had in her life.

“What’s the hold up?!” Ralt yelled from the circle, watching the two with disdain on his face.

Katya threw a last impatient look at Hal, and he nodded. He held out his hand toward Katya, palm open, imitating a pose he had seen a number of magic users take since arriving in Al’Lachia. Katya braced herself, jaw set.

“Fastus Patri!”

To the pair’s chagrin, there was no burst of golden light, no sudden influx of awesome power. Val and Katya’s eyes met.

“I told you,” Val said, “I don’t know how to cast it.”

“Not every spell is cast by holding out your hand and saying the name,” Katya responded, trying to keep an encouraging tone, “There’s all sorts of ways to activate skills. Just do what you did back then!”

“I don’t remember what I did!” Val snapped, “I thought we were about to die, and I wasn’t particularly paying attention to what position my fingers were in!”

Katya looked away, a complicated look on her face.

“I -,” Katya mumbled, “I remember.”

“What?” Val asked.

“I remember,” she replied, a little louder.

Val waited, but Katya didn’t offer anything further.

Without warning, Katya leant toward Val and grabbed his wrist, lifting his arm and bringing his hand down on top of her head.

“Pat,” she said.

“What?!”

“Pat my head.”

Val looked around, suddenly acutely aware of a large group of Katya’s extended family expectantly waiting and watching this interaction. He started to pull back, but Katya held firm to his wrist.

“Val.”

Val sighed, then reluctantly moved his hand up and down, patting Katya’s soft, blonde hair. The response was instantaneous. A burst of golden light poured out of Val’s palm and ran the length of Katya’s body, flooding every limb. In the quarter second it took for her to let go of Val's arm, he felt the sharp increase in strength in her grip and nearly yelped in surprise.

Val pulled his hand back, and the two looked at one another.

“I…” Val stuttered, “Hey, it worked.”

Katya nodded.

“That’s good,” she responded.

“Yes.”

Another awkward moment passed.

“Well,” Katya said, “I better -”

“Ten seconds!” came the call of the clerk-arbiter.

“Right,” Val said.

Katya nodded and turned, jogging back to the circle and taking her spot across from Ralt. Val, from where he stood, could see the simmering power of the golden buff skill belied in how she carried herself, but her opponent didn’t seem to see a difference.

“Seriously?” Ralt taunted, “A buff break?”

Katya didn’t reply, and Ralt shook his head and redrew his blades.

“Somehow I don’t see it making a difference,” he said.

Ralt dove forward with his blades pulled back across his body, forgoing his usual opening but closing the gap in almost as little time. Katya did not attempt to duck or flee, instead stepping back with one foot and pulling her greatsword up in a vertical block, catching Ralt’s blades against the edges of her weapon as he drew them in a murderous scissor.

The blades rang together, and Ralt flexed his muscles in an attempt to push Katya back, but she did not move.

She smiled at him as he grunted with effort, and he gritted his teeth, pushing harder against her unyielding guard.

Katya released her hands and slapped the end of her sword’s grip, sending her sword spinning in the air, tearing the sabres from Ralt’s hands and launching them away. Despite the gravity defying blur that was her sword, she snatched the handle out of the air and twirled on her back foot, bringing the flat of the blade around in a wide arc and slamming it into Ralt’s unprotected chest.

His armour rang like a bell and he shot backwards, flying across the training ground and slamming into a wall with enough force to send splintering cracks out through the masonry. Ralt slid down the wall, his legs splayed outward, and did not move.

Somewhere out in the flickering darkness, Ralt’s sabres embedded themselves in the walls of guild hall with a pair of deep thunks.

Katya’s cousins looked from Ralt’s unconscious body to Katya, watching in awe as she spun her blade once more and brought it to rest at her side. Her body language sent a clear message to the remaining family members, and not one of them let their hands drift to their armaments, even subconsciously. Even if the rules did not clearly dictate that the window of challenge had now closed, this would be the last invocation of any rite made against what was now indisputably Katya’s guild.

Val watched as all but the most stout of the warriors averted their eyes from Katya’s stern gaze, and a few busied themselves casting healing spells and un-stoppering potions ready for administration to the fallen Ralt. Katya looked every bit the unstoppable warrior that the growing legend painted her to be, and he was sure once word of today’s duel got around that her mythos would only expand further.

Maybe, just maybe, they could make it to the bottom of the labyrinth.