Astra struck Amelia for the hundredth time, cursing and leaping back from another flailing swing. She moved late, and knuckles met her shoulder with a clipping force. It threatened to spin her all the way around, sending her staggering sidelong atop shaking legs as the girl hurried after.

A gate opened between them, giving Amelia pause and Astra escape as she dived through it- emerging behind her enemy once more and lashing her back with yet another kick.

Again the girl turned, and again Astra retreated. Fear once again seeping past her composure.

She knew what struck flesh looked like. Knew the sight of welts, bursting lips or eyes clouded by the dizziness of a rocked brain. Saw their absence all too keenly in Amelia.

Fear had told her the black-eyed girl felt no pain, yet Astra saw it was more than that. Greater by far than even her enemy’s strength was her durability, a sheer toughness so bottomless that she’d failed to mark her even with strikes numbering in the dozens.

Amelia charged once more like a bull, turning aside counters with a painless grin. Her grip mised by a hair, blows striking guards or nothing at all. Even so Astra found a cry of pain drawn from her as fire began to sprout beneath her skin, too great and frantic to form a gate through.

Despair made itself known, sapping will and beckoning her to face defeat meekly. Astra found fury in the weakness, then ever more strength from that.

She struck even as the pain grew unbearable in her joints. Struck even as she felt the skin break and tear atop her fists. Struck even as she saw Amelia’s charges grow closer by the attempt.

Struck even as the girl’s smile held strong.

Astra ceded ground, then retreated. Then practically fled back along the slick rocks, muscle and gates carrying her as far as either could manage, barely ahead of the wall of fists giving chase.

She attacked again and again. Keeping the girl at bay where just minutes before she’d fought to prove herself better.

Then Amelia faltered. Astra’s foot slipped beneath her guard as she leapt from a gate, digging deep into viscera and driving her back. This time on feeble legs, dropping down to her knees.

Astra didn’t hesitate, merely moved. The blood was alight in her veins as her leg snapped up a kick to crack against the girl’s temple. Amelia fell, rolled, leapt back up. Now on the defence, Astra the attack.

Her blows landed with regularity and weight, and for the first time pain seemed to pierce Amelia’s mask with each one. The girl fought back, parried like she hadn’t before. Turned away a dozen hits and countered, only to curse as Astra threw herself back through a gate.

Back, face, ribs, legs. Neck. The assault was as varied as a snowstorm, striking no place twice and leaving Astra unpredictable as sin. Amelia grew sluggish as she weathered it, responding slower to every new attack. Body of steel buckling by the moment.

Then she stiffened, glinting pupils turning up to focus on Astra. A sudden clarity to them, a sudden and familiar change to the taste of her magic. Itamis.

The girl seemed to move without moving just before a fist met her nose, air stretching and contorting. Pulled tight like a ship’s rigging as if the Goddess’ hand had wreathed itself invisible and dragged her from harm’s way.

Astra felt a stab of shock, then the grinding of bone against bone as knuckles crunched hard against her ribs.

No gate caught her flight.

Howling winds chased Unity evermore, snagging his slowing body as often as not. Fatigue robbed him of haste, leaving the air thick like water ahead of him.

He was cast against boulders once, twice. A dozen times. Spinning and arcing, rebounding and sliding. Clothes made a tattered ruin almost instantly, body breaking down scarcely slower.

When the boy spoke once more, his words barely registered through the walls of his tortured mind. Pain burning so hotly within that it seemed loud.

“I grew up hearing stories about you, you know. Everyone in my town did. Fuck, I imagine everyone outside the South did. But I loved them more than most. Thought my heart might explode when I finally got to meet you.”

And then you saw the broken down wretch your Faction Founders had died creating. Unity thought, bracing himself for the words even as he stood on shaky limbs.

“And then I saw you myself, and it damned well nearly happened. To this day I remember the awe that struck me, however much I wish otherwise.”

Unity rose, eying the boy carefully and listening even moreso. He knew a trap when he saw one, expected whatever bladed edge would soon spring from it.

“Was I rude to you?” Unity asked, forcing the sneer that needled authentics so much. Pain turned it to a grimace, but the boy seemed no less fazed.

“That would be one way to put it,” he mumbled.

His voice was low enough to almost die in the rain, hate-twisted face left grimmer still by the darkness around it. Eyes so cold that the biting drops felt warm as they broke against Unity’s skin.

Carefully, subtle as he could manage, he shifted his footing and prepared for a charge. Fighting the urge to loose his deconstructive lightning as Atirstam urged him towards impulsivity.

“You despised me.” Bim said, suddenly empty of emotion. “We’d never spoken before, never spoken since. Our conversation lasted minutes at most. But, still… I could tell you hated me.”

Strategy eluded Unity’s mind, darting beyond reach. His blood ran cold at the boy’s eyes, ears growing sharp and heart louder than rage had ever made it.

He listened, even while wondering why.

“What goes on in your mind that you can hate a person you’ve never met, Eden?” The boy snarled, anger coming back to him with a frightful speed.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask the rest of your own fucking species.” Unity spat.

His own voice rang alien, carrying a rage he’d not noticed bubbling in his gut. It only fed Bim’s own, fattening the boy’s wrath in seconds.

“My species? Humanity? You really are a fucking hateful bastard. How the fuck could something made by the Faction Founders turn out like you?”

Unity would have had an answer the day before. He’d have taken all the spite and menace hurled at him over the years, torn it out of his heart by the roots and brandished it before the boy as a testament to humanity’s injustice.

The retort died on his tongue as he thought back to Crow. To Unison. To just how few people he’d ever met without hurrying to race their contempt with his own.

His emptiness grew at the realisation, lips trembling with more than cold. Nerves seeming to carry fire.

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“Shut up!” Unity cried, emotion drowning his wit. Atirstam blazed into lightning in his hands, and he took flight with no more thought than he’d spared for speech. The boy seemed less shocked than Unity himself.

Bim’s staff twirled one-handed, his other arm outstretched as if for balance. Unity watched as raindrops shifted their motion around it, twisting sideways, even arcing upwards. Dragged into winds that swirled in time with the stave, then shot for him with a terrible uniformity.

Bolstered by the skies, it was too fast and too close for him to have a hope of sidestepping. Instead he threw himself flat against the stone, forces passing overhead and barely driving him back feet. Looked up to see another already half-ready beside the elemental.

“You are a freak!” The boy roared, still spinning his weapon with a master’s skill. “Tell me, did you attack because you’re almost human enough to feel guilt that I’m right, or is it just a reptillian calculation to keep those watching us from the truth?”

Unity flattened his palms against the stone, felt his thoughts sink into it as if they were rain soaking sand. Rent it apart with an abrupt snap of his mind.

He was but five paces from Bim. Too far to reach him, with a gale ready to loose. But near enough that his magic shook the ground beneath the enemy’s feet.

The unsteadiness lasted an instant’s breadth. Staff slipping in wet fingers, legs scrambling for purchase and both arms shooting outwards as they flailed instinctively for balance. By the time Bim was steady, Unity was almost upon him.

Atirstam had burned away in the ground, and with too short a time to gather more he lashed out physically instead.

Bim’s nose broke, head snapping back and legs moving with desperation once more. The staff clattered against the stone beside them just as Unity struck again, this time bringing his fist to kiss the boy’s chin.

He fell, and Unity lunged after him. Landed over his body, locked himself in place at the knees. Punching more.

Crow defied wind and rain both as he jumped. For a single, heart-raising moment he thought he might make it. Hands raised, legs kicking beneath him, gravity yielding to his leap. Conceding more space by the moment, bringing him ever closer to the prize in his enemy’s grasp.

Faroah moved just as Crow’s hand was about to reach him, foot jerking back and barely letting fingertips graze the bootleather. He fell a moment later, wind screaming in his ears as much from the fall as the churning skies above.

The ground’s embrace was rough as could be, spitting him back upwards in a half yard bounce. Crow scrambled to stand, fighting through the ache of his impact and scouring the air once more for the telltale glint of metal against lightning.

He saw it quickly, pursued it without a second wasted on thought. Faroah had moved no more than a dozen yards before he leapt again.

For the second time Crow’s jump was foiled, air shifting with a dull groan as great wings beat to move his target. He landed in a stand, then ran and tried anew.

Crow didn’t count his failures, though tasted each one.

Sometimes he leapt too soon or late, falling short without his enemy’s intervention. Other tries were ill-aimed, sending him feet too far in either direction and missing entirely. More often, Faroah’s own movement saved him from being grabbed.

Yet still Crow tried, for he soon saw the boy’s weakness.

The rain had left his wings sodden. Heavy. Adding weight to what must already have been a great load for any beating limbs to hold skyward. He was uneven in the air, dipping and arcing dangerously, dodging every lunge by centimetres less than the last. Too weak to simply fly higher or further away, else he’d have done so already.

It was a battle of attrition. One Crow knew he could win.

Eventually. He thought, falling back to the earth again and almost twisting his ankle on an unseen rock. I’ll win eventually. But how many points will he have gained by then? How long has he held it already?

Another leap, and Crow steeled himself to feel failure embitter him again. Then gasped as his fingers struck mid-level into Faroah’s moving boots. A more complete contact than he’d managed so far, and one that filled the enemy’s eyes with fear enough to be seen even from yards below.

Crow leapt for the final time, barely feeling his legs protest. Fatigue burned from him entirely by excitement.

Gold flashed for an instant before the sphere came crashing down into his face, filling his eyes with tears and throwing stars to dance in the dark of his vision. The pain came a moment later, then breathlessness joined it as his back struck the ground, a great weight falling upon his chest and pinning him.

Staring through bleary vision, he saw Faroah planted upon him. Knees on either side, body straight and level. Anchored by magic. The Kanan’s hands joined the rain in falling upon Crow, sphere clattering and rolling away as he let his blows land. A hasty guard was all that sustained consciousness against them.

The boy remained where he knelt, still pummelling the sense from Crow. Desperation cleared his head at the sight of gold lifting from the ground. Taking off into flight once more and humming as it gained height. A roar escaped him, fearful and furious. Aimed at the world itself for pitting him against such a disadvantaged test.

Pinned at the belt, there was little freedom for him to move his torso. No way to pit his strength behind strikes, nor the leverage to dislodge his enemy by bucking like an animal. Instead he grabbed the boy, dug his fingers into his body until skin broke and he felt the resistance of shivering bones.

Faroah cried like a wounded lion. Muscles danced like knotting ropes under his skin as he slammed a meaty fist down upon Crow, yet he weathered the blow like all others. Strength was an advantage he had against most, and Faroah seemed no exception.

The boy leaned back at last, surrendering to pain and freeing his enemy. Crow dragged his legs out and toppled him, then scrambled into a run as the Kanan giant rose amid a storm of curses at his back.

Another race. He mused. Let’s see who’s more tired.

Amelia was a terror beyond words.

She seemed ahead of Astra’s every move, body twisting and shifting like leaves dancing in a hurricane. Each blow missed her by inches, every dodge came a moment too late. Human motions left worthless before her.

Human? When did I start thinking of her as something else?

Anger sparked in Astra, then died as a punch slipped under her guard to hollow her lungs. She stumbled away, curling up fully as a spattering of blows followed her. All avoiding her block without fail, all seeming to twist mid-flight as though guided on invisible tracks.

And still that smile burned wide and strong. Made ever more terrifying by the haunting black eyes framing it from above.

Astra was left dazed as the girl whipped and coiled, the world seeming to bend around her. Air pulled tight like scar tissue in whichever direction she moved, her speed becoming whatever was required. This was not merely swiftness, she knew. It was Itamis- space itself, conforming to her enemy’s will.

Knowing made no difference at all. Astra had never seen the technique’s like, and countering it was beyond her.

A dozen blows missed without facing retaliation, then just as quick as she’d dodged, Amelia buried another fist in Astra’s gut and sent her sprawling skyward.

The wind made a poor cushion as she landed, folding over and coughing for breath. Bile left Astra’s mouth acidic, stomach emptying and body thrashing in pain. Her eyes remained fuller than ever; tears rippling the world like sloshing water atop a lake’s face.

Half a minute had passed by the time she stood, by the perspective of her hastened senses. Amelia hadn’t moved an inch, arms down at her sides and hands laying open.

She looked to be sparring, rather than fighting.

“Are you ready to continue?” The girl asked.

The question was more than Astra could stand.

“Are you going to take me seriously?” She demanded, screaming the words as much to loose her coiled fury as cut through the wind. “Are you going to stop treating this like a fucking game?”

She knew it was madness. Knew the girl had her beat, even fighting with leisure. Astra spoke anyway, fighting for dignity in place of victory. If she was to lose, it would be against her enemy’s true strength.

Amelia, for once, didn’t smile. She stared at Astra wordlessly, face crestfallen like a scolded child.

“You want me to fight you properly?” She asked, words hard to hear between her peculiar accent and abrupt quietness. “Alright.”

A chill ran down Astra’s spine, leaving her teeth achatter.

“Alright.” Repeated the girl. “I’ll fight you.”

Something moved along her flesh, dancing on the surface. Astra took a moment to realise it was the girl’s own veins, bulging against the skin from below as if a hidden force were trying to rip them out. Muscles bunched where she could see them, teeth clenched with exertion, even Amelia’s very eyes seemed to swell and shudder.

But it was the magic that struck Astra. Heavy even against her undeveloped senses, so thick it made her fight for breath. Wild and intrepid like a dog, and cruel as a cat. Amelia stood for a moment, shivering with fear, eyes focused on the ground. Finally forced herself to look back up at Amelia.

The pinpricks of light in her eyes snuffed any hope that had remained in Astra’s heart. Then the girl charged.