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Navleni
The Duel

The Duel

Toulou waited in the backyard, sharpening a one-handed sword; their appearance leaning more masculine today. Jacques stood by the gate chatting quietly with Adrian while the sun began to dip downward.

Emelri crossed through the donkey pasture and hopped the fence. Interrupting whatever they were discussing, she went right up to Jacques and gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a short hug.

“Evening, Jacques!”

Going speechless, he stared. “What was that for?”

“Oh, just saying hello, since I haven’t seen you yet today.”

His expression was replaced with an air of crabbiness. “What about Adrian? Are you going to greet him too?”

“I’ve already seen him today.” She nodded to the blond with a smile.

“Hmpf.”

Prancing away like this was all perfectly normal and they hadn’t fought the last time they’d talked, she stood on Adrian’s left, leaning back on the fence.

“Pep is late again,” Jacques said after a moment. “Do you know if he’s coming, Emi?”

“Why would I know?” she questioned, annoyance already creeping into her voice.

“Because you two are always together.”

“Pfft. Doesn’t mean I know where he is at all times.” She blinked up at a noise from the house and spotted the young man in question stepping off the back porch. “Look, there he is. Guess I helped after all.”

They all watched as Pepin approached; the young man hopping the fence as Emelri had. He greeted Adrian with a kiss on the cheek, then went to Jacques, hesitating a half second before giving him one as well, then retreated quickly to Emelri’s side.

Jacques shook his head slightly in disbelief as Pepin leaned towards her ear. “Toulou knows too. I told them right before this.”

“Oh, they must’ve forgotten,” she whispered back, “‘cause I didn’t see them do it.”

“I’ll remind them again later.”

She nodded.

“When you two are done conspiring,” Jacques cut in, standing with hands on his hips in front of them, “we have a lesson to get to.”

Pepin quickly left her to join Toulou in the clearing; the eldest was now charging their magic.

“I’m going to have you two duel today,” he continued, now in teaching mode. “It’s a great way to gauge both of your progress.”

“D-duel?” Pepin repeated, tensing. Toulou looked up and smirked, about to remark something sassy when the young man grabbed Jacques by the arm and pulled him over, speaking in a soft voice Emelri could only understand because she’d been friends with him for so long. “Jacques, I’m not ready for that. I’m not good enough, especially against them.” He glanced at his sibling anxiously.

“Pep, you’re more than ready,” he reassured. “This is coming from your instructor.”

He shook his head quickly. “I can’t.”

Jacques considered him for a moment, then to Emelri’s curiosity, his eyes went to her. “Emi,” he called, motioning her over.

She raised an eyebrow. Walking over, she folded her arms. “What?”

“Don’t give me that look. I haven’t even said what it is yet. I want you to spar with Pepin before he duels Toulou.”

This she was not expecting. “What? Me? Why?” Pepin looked equally confused.

“He’s the most relaxed when he’s with you. I want to see if that translates into battle. Adrian—yes, that’s it.” He took the massive battle axe from Adrian’s outstretched hands. “You should be able to handle him.” The weapon was thrown at her, and she barely caught it in both hands.

“Fucking—Jacques, don’t throw Broyeur! What is wrong with you?”

He rolled his eyes. “So, you’ll do it?”

She frowned. “I suppose. How do you feel about it, Pep?”

“That’s... alright, I guess.”

“First draw of blood and we stop, okay?”

He nodded.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

That made Pepin hold his head higher. “Well, don’t hold back either.”

Heat crawled into her face. “I won’t.”

She’d never actually faced up against Pepin before. It was nerve wracking for reasons that made her want to curse Zuri out.

“Alright, face each other and you two may begin,” Jacques projected, standing behind the fence with his partner again, and Toulou joined him.

Emelri tentatively held her axe in a fighting stance. Something had clicked on Pepin’s end, and the young man now stood confidently, poised with his knives ready.

There was silence between them as they eyed each other.

“Well, are you going to—” she began, when a bolt of green magic came her way.

Lifting the handle, she blocked the blast with the massive blade of her weapon, her eyes wide. After dodging one of Pepin’s throwing knives, her own fighting instincts kicked in.

Heaving the battle axe with both hands, she cut through more of his long-range attacks, slowly closing the distance between them. Seeing her draw closer, he formed a forcefield, sending it outward. Thrusting the weapon down, Emelri tore through part of the green wall, dodging the rest of it by slipping through the hole she’d cut.

Giving a triumphant smile, her face fell slightly when the glow went out of Pepin’s eyes, and he lowered his knives. “Why’re you stopping?”

He pointed to her arm. “First blood.”

She glanced down, checking her upper arm to see a sliver of a cut in the fabric of her sleeve. A miniature trail of blood dribbled down slowly beneath the red-stained cloth. “Well, shit.”

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Tucking the knives away, he approached her, gently taking her arm in one hand. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Green flashed across his eyes and out through glowing fingers.

She froze at the touch, breaking her promise to herself that she was going to stop blushing around this man. “Oh, n-no, I didn’t even notice it until you pointed it out.”

“That’s good.” Taking his hand back, he revealed the sealed-up laceration, then hesitated. “What’s that?”

She followed his eyes down to the top of her exposed arm where delicate inked swirls decorated her skin along with a permanent red smear across it that could easily be mistaken for blood. Her face turned crimson as she slapped a hand over it. “Nothing! It’s... an Alchemist thing.”

“Oh. Is it a tattoo?”

She swallowed, then gave a little defeated nod. “It’s called a Navleni, or flower stain in Venish, but it’s very private.”

Green eyes widened. “Oh! Forgive me.”

“No, it’s alright. You didn’t know.” She needed to keep her heartbeat under control. How much of it had he seen? The thought of him knowing what it looked like... Something inside her sank. Why, oh why did he have to cut that exact spot? “Thanks, for healing the wound.” He nodded and she shook herself slightly before punching him on the arm. “You won fair and square. You should be proud.”

“Same goes for you. You’ve gotten so much stronger. It’s amazing how you can wield that giant axe around with such speed and precision.”

She slung Broyeur’s handle over her shoulders, resting her wrists over the top. “Appealing to my vanity now, are we?”

He snorted. “You can just take the compliment.”

Jacques cut into their conversation. “That seemed to do the trick.” He patted the young man on the back smugly. “You’re much looser now. Who’d have thought?” Emelri scowled at him. “Feeling ready for your next duel?”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Pepin nodded sheepishly.

He chuckled. “Alright. Show me what you can do.”

“You done pouting?” Toulou demanded, taking their place in the middle of the open space. “I don’t have all day.”

Standing across from them, the jabs only seemed to rile Pepin up as a challenging spark flickered through his eyes. “Stop whining.”

A smirk crossed their face as they drew the sword at their waist. “That’s more like it.”

“When you’re both ready,” Jacques said, and Emelri leaned on the fence by now, watching the siblings circle each other for a moment, her axe over her shoulders again.

Everyone held their breath until Toulou made the first move.

All at once, the spectators’ view was blocked by a massive explosion. Emelri felt as well as saw the waves of electricity coming off the erupting emerald cloud. The fog was cut by sharp, thin beams of green light that sounded like mini thunder strikes each time they struck.

In the chaos, she finally caught sight of a glowy-eyed Pepin with both his hands out. He’d yet to draw his knives. Toulou stood on the other side, whipping their sword around and sending out a flashy show of magic. Creating a small bubble around himself, Pepin blocked the attack, then countered with another light beam. Catching the strike with their free hand, Toulou sent it hurtling back.

Pepin barely dodged, ending up on the ground as he did. Without hesitation, the eldest was on him, or rather, their boot was as they pressed it into his torso. Coughing, the youngest put one hand over the shoe and raised his other to the sky. Realization spreading over their face, Toulou raised their sword skyward as an earth-shattering sound rang out and lightning pierced them both.

Pooling every bit of the strike into their weapon, Toulou stood above him, their body full of blinding light; a cruel smile over their lips. Their sword glinted white, and when they brought it down, Pepin managed to push the boot off him and roll to the side before the channeled lightning could touch him. Emelri covered her ears at the ear-splitting sound that followed. Toulou stooped down, catching the youngest by the throat, and Pepin grasped at the relentless grip.

“My turn,” they mused, raising their own hand to the sky.

Grimacing, Pepin electrocuted their hands, forcing Toulou to drop him. He grabbed them around the middle and they both tumbled to the ground. Toulou’s sword hit the ground, and Pepin sat on top of them, one of his knives drawn. Thrusting it downward, Toulou caught it in their bare hand now surrounded by magic. The blade did not touch their skin, but rather the emerald glow that cradled it.

Panting, Pepin tried with his other hand to bring down a knife, but Toulou flung him off with a tremendous blast of magic. He flew, and Emelri winced when he hit the ground, realizing he’d taken Toulou’s entire hit directly to his chest.

Groaning, he tried slowly lifting himself from the ground, then crumpled. Adrian gave a sympathetic hiss when he coughed up some blood.

“Okay, okay!” Jacques called, waving his hand before rushing over to Pepin. “That’s enough.”

Toulou made their way over as well, their sword already in the scabbard.

Jacques helped him sit up, putting a glowing hand to his chest.

“Fucking binder,” Pepin mumbled, his eyebrows arched in discomfort as he held a spot on his chest.

“You alright?” Jacques asked, and Pepin pushed him away.

“I can heal myself.”

Adrian’s concerned voice rang out. “Jacques, is he okay?”

“I’m fine,” Pepin snapped, getting to his feet. He directed his fierce emerald glare at his sibling. “What the hell, Toulou. Why’d you go so hard?”

Walking up, the eldest met him with an aloof expression, one hand on their hip. “What, you wanted me to go easy on you? Babying you wasn’t the point of the exercise.”

“Ass,” he whispered.

“What’s that?” They chuckled lightly. “You’re such a sore loser. Get better, then maybe you’ll have room to talk.”

He sneered, unbridled rage in his eyes.

“Okay, enough,” Jacques interjected. “Your bickering isn’t going to help either of your training. You’ve both improved drastically. I’m really proud.” The siblings kept murderous eyes locked on each other. “However, Pep, don’t rely so much on magic. I want to see more combat from you next time, and Toulou, don’t get sloppy with your technique. If you both lean too heavily on magic, you will be at a disadvantage in a situation where you can’t use it. Understand?” They both mumbled a yes. “Also, lightning from an opposing magic user can be accepted into yourself as a way to recharge, so the next time you’re trying to literally strike each other down, one of you can try accepting it. It’ll give you a massive power advantage over another user if you end up facing a not-so-friendly one someday. Anyway, let’s call it a day. We’ll work again tomorrow.”

“What?” Pepin protested, still cupping his side. “No, Jacques I’m fine. I can keep going. I want to learn this new recharging technique.”

“No, I’m not having you push yourself on an injury.”

“What about me, Jacques?” Toulou demanded. “I’m ready for your training.” They shot their brother a look, and Pepin scowled back.

Jacques sighed. “I’m tired. We’ll revisit this tomorrow.” Without further discussion, he walked ahead of them to the house.

When he reached his partner’s side, he said softly, “They’re doing really well, huh?”

Adrian nodded. “They’ve really improved.”

“I’m beat. Probably better that I stopped it here. Oh, you want help with breakfast tomorrow, Sweetheart?”

“That’d be nice.” His fingers lingered over Jacques’s waist. “Though, you’re not allowed anywhere near the stove again. Andre would kill me if he saw what you did to that pan he gifted us.”

Jacques clicked his tongue. “Whatever. I can still retrieve the shit you need and wash the dishes.”

As Pepin walked past, Toulou came up and shoulder checked him roughly.

“Hey, play nice,” Jacques snapped, interrupting whatever Adrian was saying.

Pepin frowned at his sibling, then greeted Adrian and afterwards, Jacques with a cheek kiss. “G’night,” he said distractedly, an air of defeat in his voice before he quickly left for the back door. Toulou was already inside by then.

Watching the door close, Jacques folded his arms. “They worry me.”

“Who, Toulou?” Adrian asked.

He nodded. “They’ve gotten so cocky.”

“Hm, I wonder where they learned that from.” As Jacques shot him a look, Adrian chuckled lightly. “I’ll talk to them. Don’t worry.”

“Never thought I’d hear you say the words, ‘don’t worry’ in my life.”

Adrian pulled him in closer, grinning into his ear before planting a kiss on his cheek.

“Gross,” Emelri said, leaving the fence to walk past them. “Goodnight Adrian.” She greeted him with a peck on the cheek then did the same for Jacques. “Goodnight, Jacques.”

“Okay, what is this?” the shorter man demanded. “Why are you all suddenly greeting me now?”

“Huh? We’re just saying goodnight is all.”

“So, I’ve heard. Is this about our fight yesterday? I just can’t imagine what would cause such a change.”

Glancing to the side, she fiddled with her hands slightly. “We just thought...”

“We?”

She exhaled quickly. “Okay, I just thought maybe you’d want us to treat you the same way we treat Adrian.”

“And why’s that?”

“I’m...” There was a long delay; longer than she’d have liked to admit.

“You’re...”

Grimacing, she begrudgingly mumbled, “I’m sorry,” her jaw clenched on the second word, “about what I said yesterday. It was uncalled for.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said flatly, masking any of his own emotion. “I’m not your father, so there’s nothing to discuss.”

She blinked. “So, do you not want us to greet you anymore, then?”

He paused. “I never said that.”

“Oh my Ziluria.” She rolled her eyes. “You are way more stubborn than I am.” Before he could protest, she quickly added, “Well, goodnight then,” and left.

“Good night, Emi!” Adrian said cheerfully.

As she neared the house, she heard Jacques ask, “What are you so happy about?”

“Hm?” Adrian hummed. “Oh, nothing.”

“No, tell me.”

Opening the back door, she glanced back at the couple and stuck her tongue out in disgust as Adrian smothered Jacques’s grumpy but willing face with kisses.