Classic Caro. Her cheer was just enough to stir a small smile on Val’s face, and it did wonders for the tentative atmosphere. Almost at once, people took her encouragement as a sign to go ahead and let the fun happen, rowdiness and all.
An older lady was quick to set up shop—her shop being an extra-long log near the campfire—where bets were placed and rednotes were gambled away. People flung insults both ways as they closed in. A wall of bodies formed about the hastily drawn boundaries, each adventurer rallying behind either Striker. Ironically, it made the whole affair actually morale-boosting.
Versetti let loose a low snort some fifty feet away, drawing Val’s gaze. She threw an easy smirk towards the colleagues at her back, sauntering further into the restricted space and Val’s drawn Duelist Ring. The act marred Val’s mirth swiftly, plunging her into the killing calm Caro temporarily snapped her out of.
Repetition can make even the most extreme seem normal if done over and over… and over again. It was why when she exited the warmth of Ash Forest earlier on in the year, the snow-crested buildings and the blanketed streets appeared out of place. After days inside the rift, literal trees on fire seemed more in tune with reality than snow in winter.
It might’ve been the cause of Val's numbness surrounding the teamwipe that stole the whole of Raven Efron’s squad. In these past nearly six years, she learnt to build a resistance to the entire situation. Sometimes, the tiniest sliver of her brain didn’t blame them.
Not for the surprise when someone mentioned his name.
Not for the whispers begotten upon recognition.
Not for the insults.
If everyone save for Raven Efron’s daughter claimed he killed up to seven people, the stigma that came with it was no cause for alarm. It could be categorized as normal, even. Naturally, that argument could be shot down with a little common sense. Brook—her social media specialist—said it best.
Should people take the time to sit down and give it a good look, they’d realize a lot of things simply didn’t add up. Number one was the fact that the Ciazen Adventurer Union cleared his name of any implication and crime. But, as already realized, repetition is a powerful thing… and the news had been blaring his misdeeds to the public the second he left this side of Spiravale.
Today, however, was the first time someone ever brought her mother into this, as well as the first time she’d heard grateful feelings toward Mom's curse-like predicament. She wasn't there because she couldn’t be there. Her metaphysical body was ripping her to shreds from the inside out the moment she was born, only worsened not due to her mismanagement, but the poorly thought-out actions of doctors.
And Versetti was glad?
Val very much welcomed the eerie focus that fell over her senses, ridding her of any indecision. She snapped her sword into its sheath on her back and waited for her opponent to tread into the inscribed Duelist Ring.
Versetti wore the colours of Dad’s guild, a white athletic suit that mimicked something a Hunter would wear, alongside a light-orange poncho on top. A tube sat across her back, no different than a great sword in size and stature. It reminded Val of Aeron’s struggle to constantly fill it up with water in the Dark Mineshaft—no doubt that Versetti found the same struggles here. In the grand scheme of things, though, it hardly mattered. She lost once to this person.
Never again.
----------------------------------------
Leah made sure to smile. A laugh at a comment here, a chuckle at a cheer there. These were her people. They had also been her parent’s people. Any other day, she’d take the thought, put it into one of the many compartments in her mind, and close it before it could fester.
Today, the face of her loss—the embodiment of what was saved when so much was given up—stood on the other side. Ma and Pa as well as four other adventures ripped to shreds to give the Efron family a chance to survive. And there Valory was, clothed in full black combat-wear, with protective metal plates for her vitals, and her rather useless chain—pale blue in colour—wrapped around her left forearm.
Her expression spoke of murder, and it only made Leah’s lip twitch lose control. She’d never met someone with so much self-righteousness—the urge to slap it off her face was hard to ignore. The stifled sighs, the placating smile, the piercing glare in Center of Command—Leah was getting rather tired of Valory’s holier-than-thou attitude.
There was a reason why the name Efron evoked a cacophony from any educated adventurer living in the Second Halo. Charismatic as they were, they lie, cheat and kill their way to what they want. Raven did it, and it appeared that Valory already was on that same path, seeing as things seemingly lined up for her.
Leah wasn’t stupid. Valory’s teammates were the real deal. Chances were, any of them could beat her in a fight within a minute. The quiet pair—the short, curly-haired Kidraan and the even shorter blue-eyed Auricean—chilled her to the core. One glance told her she wouldn’t last up to ten seconds. A quick search on the web to verify her hunch resulted in Leah’s eyes bulging out of her head.
Kylee Lenson, granddaughter of the Seer, tri-bound diviner, genius of a Support, heir apparent to the Lenson Clan—the list of titles went on forever.
Jesal Haldar, previously the heir apparent to the Haldar Clan, though from what she gathered through her research, it appeared he spent the better half of his gap year to rectify that. The inheritance now lay in the hands of his eldest sister, thrown away for a reason Leah won’t ever understand. Wielding gravity and amplification as elements marked him as one of the best possible mages one could have in the backline.
Ekon Nightingale, a possible heir of his family. Ultra-talented in close combat, and decked out in enough alchemic goods to drown the regular person in their wealth.
Carielle Hayes. Ugh—full stop.
Alessio Azotus—a variable. Nothing much was said about the timid Bulwark.
Even still, half of Valory’s team were guaranteed powerhouses in the combat week little over two months away, more so in the upcoming Spring Tourney. If she wanted to, Valory could very well travel to the sky off the back of her squadmates, and that was assuming she wasn’t doing so already.
Admission into Thales Academy, a seat in Age of Atera, a room in Runic Mead—what the actual hell did Valory do to deserve any of it? It must be one of the Efron shenanigans at work once again.
Leah would happily be the one to remind Valory that life didn’t work that way. With actions came consequences; rewards were the result of hard work. Regardless of her guile and wit, in an Elemental Exchange, things were even and set straight.
So, it was with a broad grin that she stepped past the thin line and was swallowed by the jittery crowd. Valory crouched low, plucking a rock from the deep-red terrain underneath. She tilted her head up and held a hand out. “I’ll throw this up. We start when it touches the ground on its way down. Do you mind if I use Aetherial Reinforcement to send this high enough to get a good counter?”
“No.”
Valory rose back to her full length, her view clear of any stray strands with her hair tightly plaited into dual-braids. “Good.”
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Blue blossomed in the girls’ eyes as they both resorted to an Aetherial Art—the thrower, energy enhancement, and the watcher, Vague View. Leah let herself marvel at her opponent’s improved use of the art. Aether strands solely flowed to the muscles involved in the throw, isolating the action and minimizing energy waste.
She clicked her tongue. This wasn’t the same Striker she trounced in Storm’s Keep. Leah could admit that much, her head tilting upwards to catalogue its peak. It reached some fifty meters in the air before its velocity began to peter out. She pulled her eyes away from the impressive throw and instead, glanced at the ground below.
The Elemental Gate of Water barely scraped in being the top five elemental influence on the land. A quick look revealed umber-brown, verdant-green, grey, and the faintest hints of golden-yellow elemental traces permeating the area. Earth, plants, air, and light, Leah sighed privately to herself, minutely glad the time lessened light’s influence.
She breathed in; the meter-long tube shifted a little. Correction—the water inside the tube moved, swaying in time of her existence. She keyed to a portable water source, knowing she’d be hard-pressed to find any in the semi-dry rift. That didn’t mean she hadn’t felt the slightest call in the ground beneath. A card to keep for hard times. If hard times ever came, that was.
A whistling sound cut through her thoughts. The rock had begun its descent. Valory flourished her drawn sword. Leah widened her stance, her hands open at her hips.
Crack! Splintered pieces of rocks shot in every direction once the timer smacked the ground, and the following four things happened so quickly, that Leah wouldn’t be sure even after the fight which came when.
Valory struck her blade into the ground at touchdown, grabbing for her toolbelt.
Call of Water! A small river surged out of Leah’s tube, looping around her waist. She had made sure to pull every drop of water in the ground as close to the surface as possible simultaneously, ensuring its handy distance with her advanced Tier 2 spell.
Her opponent engaged in another round of energy enhancement and let loose fifteen oblong, metal objects. They mimicked the counter, rocketing in several different directions.
Marking the attack, Leah changed gears at once. Water Limbs! The rudimentary Tier 2 spell flowed seamlessly, and she gained large octopus limbs, quadrupling her own forearms’ diameter and width. Her arms made an ‘X’ across her front in preparation for—
“Shard Bomb!”
Well, not that. Regardless, the defensive move helped avoid what appeared as thousands of sharp, metal pieces zipping her way. Many were caught in the water, slowed and nullified. Several bit in her leather armour, and two received blood for their efforts.
“Metal Manipulation.”
A strained gasp escaped Leah as the shards wiggled, vibrated, and ejected themself out of her vicinity—including her flesh. In fact, all the shrapnel, many of which remained in mid-flight, ceased their movement and simply collapsed to the ground. What on Spiravale…?
Leah had little time to question her opponent's motives. Frames played out in her mind, and she expressed as such, lipping the incantation to her next attack.
Water Ejection!
Ice Formation!
Twisting, she lashed out with Water Limbs. Two ice scythes, solid as concrete, flew out of the water, forming a deathly plus sign en route to cut down her opponent. Valory took a step to the left, narrowly missing one. In the same breath, she unearthed her blade and chopped the horizontal wave of mass in half. They split in the air, also missing her by a hair’s breadth.
Before Leah could blink, Valory raised a hand to the sky—as if going for a high-five—and brought it low. The metal shards, akin to liquid, pretty much melted until they became puddles in the ground. The deformed shards attached to one another, creating a solid layer of cold steel on the field.
Leah could physically feel her access to the water dim. That sly bit—
A spray of stray dust shot up—presumably what was left on the Metal Striker’s boot—as she took off like a bullet. Still engaged in Vague View, Leah recognized the expert use of energy enhancement at work, though this time adjusted for agility instead of strength. She utilized the three seconds Valory required to cross the fifty-meter yard to gauge her options.
First off: her conjuration skills sucked, so that was a hard no. Besides, three seconds—little more than two seconds now—left hardly any time for lengthy incantation.
Worse, she ejected what little water she possessed, not considering Val's surprising speed. Small amounts of water meant a small amount of room to weave in her invocation-based maneuvers.
That left one option—turn her current arsenal into ice daggers and duke it out the old-fashioned way.
And so, when Valory opened the close-combat parley with a diagonal slash, Leah brought up two ice daggers—each as long as her forearms—to block. The pale blue saber caught in the jagged ice blades, leaving Valory right where Leah wanted her.
She released her hold, uncrossing her weapons. Valory stumbled forward and ate a kick to the stomach. Leah hid a grimace as her combat boot struck a metal plate, whirling around to bring both blades at her opponent’s head. Valory ducked and twisted, bringing her sword around in a compact sweep Leah barely avoided by melting a dagger. She refroze the liquid just as the blade took her in the chest, shattering one of two weapons, but keeping her standing.
For two quiet minutes, a Striker wielding one dagger and another wielding one blade went at it with ruthless abandon. Their attacks went straight for the vitals, with no care of whether their opponent could generate a way to hinder a death-dealing blow. Leah made use of her water, and Valory relied on her quirky sense to see everything.
The stalemate could run for only so long, and the turning point came without warning. Leah took a side step to dodge an eviscerating slash when something caught on her leg.
Cold, bulbous at points, and long—a chain captured her ankle, and a frantic attempt to reevaluate her surroundings highlighted the now-missing piece on Valory’s left arm. Leah tripped out of her movement, managing to keep her feet beneath her.
The heel of a boot cracked against her skull, and the whiplash knocked her back. As she belatedly realized a low roundhouse kick did her in, she hardly had time to block the hilt thrust that pushed her flat onto the ground.
She managed to get her arms under her fall, but a coldsteel blade came flying in after her, just shy of her left eye. Leah’s pupils shrunk to the point of a pencil, stuck on the sword a mere inch away from taking her through the face. It was that thought that brought on the realization. I… lost.
It didn’t seem to register for both parties, though. If Valory lifted her head, she’d spot the rainbow of Mage's Marks rippling through the crowd the instant she raised her weapon—shouts ripped out of tens of throats.
Down came the saber. A line of red opened up on Leah’s pale skin, the ring of a blade recently striking a hard ground sharp in her ears. Valory left her sword embedded in the earthen floor and drew close, nose to nose.
Leah finally got it in her head to push off her hands—a steel grip took hold of her neckline and shoved her back into the ground. “Stop squirming and listen closely.”
Pale white glimmered in the Metal Striker’s irises, bright and all-consuming. It was the single thing she stared into as… something wrapped around her thoughts—no, thoughts wasn’t it. She needed to think to feel, and she sure as hell felt something weave its way to the deepest parts of herself and force her to stop moving.
Valory’s word was law. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—dare break it. The very proposition felt incapable of happening. So Leah did as was stated: she didn’t squirm and took it upon herself to listen.
“Leave my family name out of your mouth. Don’t so much as whisper it,” Valory seethed. “I get it. What happened to your family was a tragedy, but it was a tragedy for mine too. You don’t see me stabbing your little sister in the gut, do you?”
Valory released her hold and grunted, pushing off her knees to her feet. “I’m not asking you to move on—I will never impose a timeline for what you went through, because there simply isn’t one. I’m asking you to grow the hell up. Cope without the anger. Or at least shove it down someone else’s throat. I’m done with it. I’m done.”
Upwards of thirty spikes rose from the metal-covered ground at Val’s behest, rising, pivoting and rearing their sharp ends at Leah. It felt like she was in the mouth of a coldsteel wyvern, waiting to be devoured. Leah swallowed a dry lump past her throat. Message received. Her eyes traced back to the ice in Val’s eyes, the odd light gone entirely from the world.
The instant it disappeared, the metal mage brought a hand to her brow, her feet catching on thin air on her way out. The subtle stumble drew Leah’s gaze. It was the kind you got from lightheadedness or a blaring headache, both of which were signs of a rebound. That meant whatever she experienced was a spell. The white eyes, the hand-like grasp on an incorporeal piece of Leah—that was a speechless spell, without a physical signal.
She barely had time to go through the possibilities of which element it might’ve been before the crowd exploded with excitement, leaving her staring after Valory, her mouth left open in unabated shock, confusion and—surprisingly—awe…
Saints. Valory might just be dual-bound, and she hadn't needed both of her elements to beat Leah today.
Whispers of a name, something along the lines of “Steel Arbiter,” tickled at Leah’s ears as one thought came to mind. Huh… she’s not that bad of a fighter.