The comforting acidic sting in the back of Jay’s throat reminded him he was still human. Regardless of how much training he put in, or how confident he got, it seemed some traditions were here to stay.
Some things never change.
Jay washed the last of the sick from his mouth and took a healthy swig of water. A whisper of stinging remained, almost gone and certainly not forgotten.
“You know, If I win this fight I could get into the top half of the rankings. At this rate, I’ll overtake you guys in a few weeks!”
Jay tried, and dramatically failed, to inject some life into the twins’ living room. Akira didn’t even look in his direction. He sat perfectly still, hands firmly clasped on his sword. Lyra offered Jay a polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes and didn’t mask the faraway look beneath it.
Thinking about Vega?
Lyra’s twin still hadn’t returned.
As he entered the room, Jay swiped the bottled lightning and stared into its depths. It gave him somewhere to look.
Jay wasn’t sure whether it was anger, nerves, or fear that kept his friends from looking his way. He understood their feelings though. He was the one causing them after all.
White sparks of light streaked down his arm as it neared the bottle, the two aspects of electricity resonating with each other. The warm fuzz of electricity soothed Jay from within, but it did little to lift the cold oppressive pall over the room.
Jay knew what he needed to do about that. Victory solved all problems.
If it didn’t, you just didn’t win hard enough.
“I’m off. See you guys in a bit.” Said Jay. There was no use staying in the room any longer.
He hoped the confidence in his voice would carry into his friends.
“Good luck Jay.” Lyra wrestled her mind back into the room. Nodding and giving Jay a smile much more genuine than the one from before.
“Good luck.” Akira’s voice was steady, but his grave stare met Jay's with intensity. His piercing green eyes bereft of the excitement they usually carried.
Jay sternly nodded.
He could’ve explained his entire strategy, told them exactly how and why he’d win. But what was the point?
They’d find out soon enough.
----------------------------------------
The morning mists of Reveller's Avenue greeted him with more warmth than his friends had. Jay made his silent way towards the coliseum, the weight of their expectations pressed against his shoulders.
But their demands paled in comparison to his own.
Jay knew his friends had their doubts. In everyone’s eyes, he was the clear underdog. In front of his own, all Jay saw was victory.
Jay had to earn his friends’ trust back.
That meant showing the world that there was never any doubt about the fight’s outcome.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
It meant handing Akira a brand-new sword on a silver platter and saying sorry I made you worry mate, next time don’t bother.
It meant complete domination.
The beige stone legs of the SunSpear towered beside Jay, he consciously let the heat roll over him. Although he had no way of knowing at the time, he’d been affected by peoples’ domains as soon as he’d set foot on the island. Jay's focus shifted to the gargantuan faceless gladiator standing watch over the pavilion. He’d almost lost himself before his last fight. The weight of the gladiator’s aura pressuring him with sweet whispers of victory.
Jay heard them still, but now he had the strength not to listen.
His path to the coliseum ran through the faceless gladiator. His path to Harmony did not.
Domains were still somewhat of a mystery to Jay, but so was almost everything he’d learned. He didn’t need to know the intricacies of essence perception and Asher’s domain technique. He needed to win.
Huh.
Jay chuckled as he passed beneath the legs of the faceless gladiator.
Maybe we aren’t so different.
The walk to the waiting room held far less uncertainty this time around, although Jay felt his heartbeat begin to rise as he wrapped his hand round the cold metal door handle.
The waiting room was just as uninteresting as before. Jay’s old boxing gloves, no longer slouched in a puddle of rainwater, were the only spark of colour sinking in a sea of beige. Jay wondered whether he could get some furniture for this place, something to complement the beige on beige.
Damn, furniture? Things really have changed.
He still had to fight though.
Jay’s eyes dropped from his gloves to his fists’ new armour. Steel knuckles sat snugly over wrapped white bandages. The serrated, three-inch blades protruding from them a deadly reminder that he had a fight to think about.
Some things never change.
100…99…98…
Jay hopped on the spot and began shadow boxing. The trial by lightning granted him precise control over his body, so warming up wasn’t strictly necessary. But it still felt right.
Through conscious effort Jay sped up his heart rate, sending much needed blood to each limb. He tensed and flexed each individual muscle fibre, preparing them for the rigors of combat.
The whisper of doubt and the chatter of overconfidence quietened within Jay’s mind.
Preparing for a fight used to take him a whole day of focus, a whole evening of preparation, and usually the first two or three rounds.
Now it took him seconds.
The timer ticked down to forty and Jay greeted the newbie arena once more. Davad stood twenty paces in front of him, the iridescent barrier shimmered even further behind him.
Bigger arena this time.
The navy-blue shield orbited around Jay's opponent. The one variable Jay couldn’t prepare for.
Davad drew back an arrow before the timer struck five.
So that’s how you want to start?
Jay locked eyes with his opponent from across the arena. Davad matched his stare for a split second before flicking his aim down to Jay's chest.
It was the biggest target, and probably the best place to aim, but Jay knew that wasn’t why Davad looked away from Jay’s eyes. Regardless of what Davad was currently telling himself, Jay knew the real reason.
Two could play the preparation game. Jay's eyes sparked blue as time itself beckoned his call.
Eye of the storm had come a long way since its first use above the oceans by Tranquillity tower, it still had a long way to go too. Jay knew he had to shed the comforting slowness it brought the world if he wanted to evolve the technique, but that was a problem for another day.
The golden timer ticked down to zero, the final second lasting longer than the previous ten. Davad fired his first arrow as soon as the barrier encasing him dropped.
The arrow pierced through the air, punching a hole in its wake.
Even as he watched it through Eye of the storm, Jay knew it was fast.
Jay raised his left hand. Slightly bent, holding his palm inches in front of his face. Flecks of white light peeked through the wraps around Jay's fists. His fingertips twitched, the electricity within waking up and rattling the bars of its cage.
The arrow neared Jay.
It entered his range.
Azure sparks faded from existence as the raw pace of reality rushed into Jay’s mind.
He rushed faster.
During his practice with Zara, Jay had learned how to time arrows. He’d learned how to deflect them when necessary, and how to dodge them too.
In all his practice sessions with Zara, he never once tried to catch an arrow. It was pointless, and required far more effort than it was worth.
As soon as he sent the signal, Jay’s fist clamped around the incoming arrow’s shaft. Milliseconds before it was due to pierce his skull, he forced it to a complete stop.
A dodge might’ve been more practical. It would’ve been far less risky.
Jay didn’t give a shit. He wanted to send a message.
Not. Fast. Enough.