The first punch caught him in the eye before he even realized the fight had started.

Shiro cursed under his breath. He’d forgotten just how fast David could move. And worst of all… his eye barely hurt.

That was the downside of Shiro’s skill. He was incredibly strong when he was in pain, but his pain resistance made him immune to all but the most painful of wounds. Instead, he’d grown used to relying on Sarah’s aura or letting himself take hits to ramp up his damage.

But David was well aware of Shiro’s weakness, and so he pulled his punches. Lightning fast, but superficial. He knew that if he went all-out, he’d just be giving Shiro the tools to defeat him — so he held back, using the bare minimum of force needed to put the brawler on the back foot.

But his strikes were so vicious! Sharp enough to hurt when they struck, but not for long enough that he could use the pain to any effect.

Shiro tried to dodge another jab, stumbling backwards as he did. He landed on his butt, barely having enough presence of mind to roll away before David could get him again.

He used the roll’s momentum to get himself back on his feet, and brought his hands up in a high guard, expecting the next blow to follow shortly — but it didn’t. Shiro peeked at David’s face.

“Finally taking this seriously, are you?”

What the hell did he even mean, Shiro wondered. But before he could voice his confusion, David was already pressing the attack. But Shiro was on his guard now, so surely he could at least defend himself a bit?

It turned out that no, he couldn’t. The first bout had been nothing but warm-up for the disgruntled rogue, and now he was serious as well. Shiro saw white as his neck exploded in pain — but only for a second, after which it turned into an overwhelming tingle. He tried to move his hands up to defend himself, but once again, David was on the offensive, not letting him get the chance to push back.

David was aiming for his nerves, Shiro belatedly realized. He wasn’t doing any real damage, and the pain disappeared as soon as it hit him, but it was slowly wearing him down. Shiro’s vision came back just in time to see David’s hand, held out straight, like a knife, heading directly towards his eye. He tried to stumble back, but David was too fast, and then—

Salvation came.

Kellan had gripped David’s arm as it shot out — how he’d managed the feat, Shiro had no idea. David was superhumanly fast, after all. But clearly, it hadn’t gone quite as well as he’d expected it. Kellan must have thought he could easily handle the scrawny little teenager, and his intervention did help — but David’s strike had a great deal of momentum behind it, and it wasn’t something Kellan could simply bring to a halt.

Instead, he pulled on David’s arm, changing his trajectory and causing the boy to stumble — and then crash on top of Shiro.

“What in the endless beyond are you doing? This is a spar! Not a duel to the death!” he yelled as David scrambled to his feet.

Shiro was still on the ground, shocked by the turn of the events. David had looked so… so serious. He brought a hand up to his neck, touching it gingerly. He could still feel an echo of the jabs, like bees buzzing under his skin.

David just stared blankly at Kellan as a wave of shame engulfed him. Why had he done that? He’d just… gone ballistic on Shiro. It wasn’t like he didn’t deserve it… or did he deserve it? David felt nothing but confusion — his head swam with contradictory feelings, with accusations and justifications, but… he’s just attacked his teammate. And it hadn’t been just a spar, no, David had wanted to hurt him. To make him feel the pain and the fear he’d felt when he died.

“Well? Explain yourself!”

Kellan’s words went ignored by David, who was still stuck in a conundrum. He sneaked a glance at Shiro, who still lay on the floor, bewildered, and the shame hit him again.

So he ran. He blitzed past the expectant instructor, rushing through the door and towards the exit. By the time Kellan had made it to the door, David had already cleared the stairs and was nowhere to be seen. Kellan stood in the doorway, staring down the corridor, when someone pushed him aside.

Shiro made his way past the instructor, breaking into a sprint once he realized David had left him behind. And Kellan — Kellan continued to stare for a minute, deeply unsure of what he’d just witnessed. Reluctantly, he went back to the remaining students.

“What are you all waiting for? Expecting a special invitation? Get to sparring!”

A few minutes later, somebody opened the door quietly. But Kellan had been an adventurer for many years, and he’d trained his hearing well. He turned around to see a half-elvish girl peeking through the crack. He recognized her as a receptionist, one of the newer ones, though he couldn’t recall her name.

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

“Mister Wright?”

“That’s me. What’s this about?”

She opened the door fully, slipping into the room. “There are two young women downstairs claiming to be part of your class. I told them you’d already accounted for everyone, but they insisted…”

He just stared at the receptionist for a moment, then nodded. “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

The receptionist left as quietly as she’d arrived, and as soon as the door was closed again, Kellan sighed. The headmaster was going to scream at him so hard for forgetting to bring the class roster.

#

David rushed through the streets of the Floating City, weaving gracefully through the crowd in spite of his inner turmoil. What had he done? He’d completely lost his cool — and that had never before. What was wrong with him?

He stopped in the middle of the street, his mind a mess, trying to understand what had happened. It could have been his undead side, manipulating him to give into his anger. Or it could have been some remnant of the mind control.

Or, more likely, it had been all him. All of the repressed anger and fear, bursting forth at Shiro’s casually thoughtless behavior. The needle that broke the camel’s back, so to speak.

Around David, people swore at him, telling him to get out of the way as he stood in the middle of the busy street, but he was insensate to the world around him. At least, that was until a commotion behind him woke him from his moment of self-loathing.

He knew what had caused the commotion, but he was afraid to turn around. Afraid of what he’d say. But — he didn’t really have a choice. Whatever was going to happen was already out of his hands. He turned, and came face to face with Shiro.

It was clear from their surroundings that Shiro had not traversed the street with the same grace and carefulness as David. Rather, he’d pushed and shoved, judging by the angry people and the disaster he’d left in his wake. But to his great surprise, Shiro hadn’t come for revenge, or to demand an explanation. No, the look on Shiro’s face was one of great concern.

“What happened? Are you okay?” he asked, and David flushed with shame once more. And not just shame. If Shiro, of all people, could tell that something was wrong, then clearly David must have looked like a complete mess.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I just…” David was suddenly aware of where exactly he was. “Actually, let’s go somewhere else so we can talk, alright?”

Shiro nodded. “Back to the inn, maybe? It should be pretty empty at this hour, I think.”

David agreed. An hour later, they found themselves conversing at The Cranky Kraken, each with a mug of hot chocolate before them. David would have preferred alcohol, but the innkeeper was adamant she didn’t want to deal with drunk kids. So, chocolate milk it was.

Which made the whole thing all the more strange. Here he was, apologizing to his killer for attacking him unfairly. Except Shiro himself had only been acting in self-defense. And yet, it had been so gory.

But Shiro had listened to his explanations patiently, with a kind of seriousness he’d never expected from the youngest of their group. David had pegged him as a sheltered kid, as well as somewhat unhinged. But as David poured his heart out, Shiro had neither interrupted nor had his gaze strayed.

David’s speech had been a rambling thing, and he wasn’t sure why he was sharing all of this with the one he feared the most, but it helped. By the time he was done, it was already afternoon.

And now it was Shiro’s turn.

It hadn’t come as a surprise to David to hear that Shiro had his own deep-seated trauma since coming to this world, but the extent of his suffering had left him with his mouth agape. Shiro spoke of his first few weeks in this new world, of how he’d been captured, imprisoned, and tortured — and he’d gone over each torture instrument, describing them with cold indifference; it sent shivers up David’s spine to hear it, and Shiro’s voice developed a slight tremble by the end.

They were broken, the both of them, David finally realized. And when he finally understood what drove Shiro — the desire to protect his friends, the fear in his heart abated, remaining a mere shadow of its former self. It would never go away entirely, David thought, but he’d come to an understanding.

Afternoon turned to evening and they continued to chat. The innkeeper had even joked that they were like two old ladies gossiping over coffee, which had amused David and embarrassed Shiro. And even as the topics turned mundane, talking of things like sports and video games, they discovered the beginning of a friendship.

It was when the sun set that they finally stopped, though that was by no decision of theirs.

No — trouble had come to The Cranky Kraken.

It was one of the inn’s regulars who discovered that something was wrong. “Hey, does anyone else smell smoke?” he said, rising from his seat at the bar with a look of alarm on his face.

His drinking buddy laughed and patted his back. “Relax, it’s probably just Michelle burning the food again. Hey, Michelle! You alright there in the back?”

The innkeeper stepped into the common room, armed with a ladle. “What’s this about?”

“I smell smoke,” the first man said.

Michelle paled. “It’s not the kitchen.”

The second man stopped laughing when he saw her expression, and by that point the entire common room had caught on to the commotion. A wave of panic surged through the room, and everyone scrambled to their feet, running for the door. The first to get there was an older woman who’d been sitting right next to the entrance, she threw the door open and—

A flaming beam fell from above. She took a step back, to avoid being hit if another one fell, but to no avail. By that point, the crowd had turned into a stampede as everyone ran for their lives. She was pushed outside, along with everyone else. To their luck, no more flaming debris had fallen, and Shiro and David were able to make it out as well.

The fallen piece of siding ruined the effect, somewhat, but a message had been written in fire on the facade of the inn.

“What in the abyss?” Michelle exclaimed as she looked up, tears already welling in her eyes.

Murmurs of confusion tore through the crowd as more people looked up, until a voice of reason finally rang out. “Is anyone here a mage? That fire needs to be put out before it spreads.”

David heard a few voices of assent, but his eyes were stuck to the burning wall. The flames flickered for a moment, then returned in full force.

“That’s a magical fire!” someone called out. “I’m not strong enough to fight it.”

“Me neither.”

“Call for the city guard!”

People scrambled to deal with the fire, but by the time they’d come back with a capable mage, the fire had engulfed the entire building. The words had disappeared as the fire spread, and nobody else must have understood what they were referring to, but Shiro and David did.

‘Burn, heathens’ the writing had said. Retribution for allowing the enemy of the gods to stay at the inn. And suddenly, David knew their stay in the Floating City wouldn’t be as in-and-out as they’d thought.