Morning Combat
Patience may catch the prey, but it may also starve the predator.
* * * * * * * *
“What can we observe from the skirmish just now?” The professor’s voice bellowed as she entered the arena that was now, once again, a field of plain, dry dirt within a circular moat.
No one answered immediately, but the professor waited patiently in the silence. Off to the side, Rea and Ria sat next to the two Envra assistants, healing the scars Viri cut up and down their arms at expedited rates.
Szak, too, waited for someone to answer the professor, even though he already knew what to take away from the observation:
Although it was best to try to get to a siren enemy if there was one, Rea and Ria should have expended at least some of their energy keeping a consistent wind barrier to muffle Eulylia’s talent while stealthily looking for her, avoiding Viri. A medium to close-range combatant needed to understand the territory they were to fight within, not just run up, head-first, into the enemy. With a talented enough wind barrier, if Szak recalled correctly from his classes sitting next to Jamis and Mythil back in Foyirsinn, Rea and Ria could have bought themselves about half a summer’s minute within Eulylia’s song, not just three beats of her song’s rhythm.
Viri, on the other hand, though melee, as all Drakonskars were without their dragons, needed to go out to divert attention and give Eulylia the range she needed. She did just that, but she shouldn’t have engaged. Because her role was to stall, she should have done just that at a range unaffected by Rea’s and Ria’s windy talents. Another reason why the twins should have just avoided Viri entirely—by engaging with her, the twins let Viri claim victory in her role. Only improvement Szak could see, other than winning the two-to-one outright, was to not take so long to get out of the trees, affecting how much she could stall for time.
And Eulylia? Well, Szak couldn’t see past those trees, but it was as quick as a siren usually could be in casting talent, according to his experiences across the Edge; and although no one could be affected by her song outside of the barrier, Szak could tell from how Rea and Ria submerged into her lament, and how quickly it all had happened, that Eulylia’s talent was a force to be reckoned with if she ever entered Oblivion—so long as her close combat was as strong as her song.
“Kyon?”
No one had answered. Eulylia had already joined the group and sat beside Sephria, undoing her bun and braids.
“Tumesys,” Ty called back.
“Move the class forward and give me your best answer.”
Ty blinked and leaned forward, resting his elbow on his leg. “Rea and Ria were a bit reckless, there. Their movements were rushed. Anxious. Acted as if they didn’t have control over the situation.”
“And why would that matter if it were the truth?” Professor Tumesys asked, pacing calmly about the arena. “A Desireen is not an easy enemy. I’d even argue they require the most urgency to be dealt with, even though they counterintuitively require the greatest time and distance on the field of war.”
“Well, it would have given the Drakonskar—Viri, was it?” Ty turned to Szak, who nodded. He turned back to the professor. “Viri. Revealing anxiety would have given Viri confidence.”
“Would have?” Professor Tumesys chuckled. “Did it?”
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“Couldn’t tell,” Ty shrugged. “She fought in common Drakonskar style—beating as much fear and force into the enemy as quick as possible.”
Professor Tumesys nodded thoughtfully, considering Ty’s response. “All very important observations. We want clear insight into the enemy’s emotions whenever we can gain any, and we want to divert our own emotions from the enemy whenever possible.” She looked off to the side, then back at the amphitheater half-filled with combatants, again. “Not exactly the answer I was looking for, though. Someone else?”
Szak rolled his eyes. This was why combat was a waste of time for him.
* * * * * * * *
After what felt like three summer hours’ worth of lecture but was, in actuality, only one autumn one, Professor Tumesys finally ordered all combatants to stretch and pair up for hand-to-hand combat practice through their final autumn hour together this morning. No talents allowed.
“Paerla and Kaiar will be on opposite ends of the dome for those who need it,” Professor Tumesys announced, gesturing to the two Envra assistants who had healed Rea and Ria earlier. “I’ll come by and comment for needed improvement. Disperse.”
“Eulylia,” Iago sang as everyone shuffled around, looking for a partner and getting to a spot in the arena.
“No.”
Iago was to respond, but Eulylia met his eyes, as if to tell him something was wrong. He leaned over to Sephria. She looked worried. Stressed about something. Eulylia’s eyes promised him that she would tell him later.
“… Alright, darling.” And then he shrugged, because Sephria could likely hear that from the scraping of his leather jacket.
“Come, Seph,” Eulylia said, turning to her, and the two went off to the arena.
Szak sat quietly behind Iago, not moving. Ty, too, stayed behind, but Iago guessed that Ty’s reason was to wait for Szak. He turned to Alea. “Sweetheart.”
Alea looked up to him, blue eyes softly staring back at his own gold ones. Much softer than Eulylia’s sharp hazel. Something in Iago wanted to muster the energy to feel, again. It made Iago give his original intentions a second thought, and he wondered if what he wanted to do was worth the potential consequences.
Perhaps.
“About that sword of yours,” he said casually as he pointed to it. “Where’d you get it?”
Alea turned to her sword leaning beside her. There was a pause before she turned back to Iago. “It’s my father’s.”
Szak narrowed his eyes.
“Ah,” Iago said, as if he understood something more with that fact. “Family heirloom?”
“I am not sure,” Alea replied. “I don’t believe so? The sword appeared in his room one day and was sitting in the corner—” Another pause. “I cannot say for sure.”
“Is it Drakonforged?” Iago asked.
Of course not, you idiot. Szak closed his eyes before rolling them. Dragon fire only forged gems.
“I… I am also not sure about that,” Alea whispered, as if she were disappointed with her own answer.
“Well, no worries. I was only curious.” Iago chuckled a bit as he stood up. “Let’s partner up for today.”
Alea let out a soft gasp and looked up at him. “Are you sure?”
“Come on,” Iago gestured her to follow him. “Let’s go.”
Szak watched Alea stand up, happily, and he felt a surge of upsetting emotions pile on top of each other in some rushed form within his chest.
“Oh, that would be wonderful!” She took her massive gold longsword and hung it on her back again. There was a soft ring in the air as the blade swung. Szak did not like the sound of that. The ease with which she swung a longsword at such a size, too, only made the material of the blade that much more obvious. Though its handle was large and bulky, it seemed to be where all the weight lied. The blade, on the other end, was paper-thin. All of it was likely molded from one single piece of the very gold he did not want it to be.
Alea hopped to the seat below her, then turned and bowed to Szak and Ty. They both nodded and watched her leave to the arena with Iago. Szak, in particular, noticed Iago glance back at him with a soft smirk.
Fuck that guy. Szak shook his head and stood up with a sigh.
“You ready?”
Szak turned to Ty and nodded.
Ty stood up and headed down to the arena with Szak. “What’s the deal with Alea? You know her, too?”
“I know of her,” Szak answered. “You recognize that shade of blue on her hair?”
“Nope.”
“You think she’s actually from the Mist?”
Ty scrunched his face as he looked away in thought. He shook his head again. “No idea. Could be. Her answers were strange though.”
“Everything about her is strange,” Szak scoffed. Their shoes made crackling sounds over the dry dirt on the arena. The two turned to face each other in an available clearing. All around them, harpies and chimeras sparred with merpeople and faeries. “Stop by my place after class.”
Ty nodded twice, then threw the first punch.