The arena was the biggest ice sculpture Ranvir’d ever seen. Circular with a hundred meter diameter, it was big enough for two second-stage tethered to fight, while giving them enough room for a temporary retreat.

Isgerd had clearly crafted it herself, and she was no artist. It was a utilitarian solid slab of ice, infused with enough cold to freeze the light drizzle of rain that touched it. The air steamed with water vapor as it cooled the surroundings. The arena stood no taller than Ranvir’s knees. Isgerd had marked it with a textured surface that was remarkably gripping for a usually freezing material.

He suspected Isgerd’s Concept played a part in this, keeping the ice frozen. It didn’t melt, even in direct contact with his skin.

“Shit, it is cold,” Es muttered, shuddering as he rubbed some heat into his hands.

“Esmund!” Kirs said, shooting him a sharp glare.

“You think Ranvir doesn’t swear in front of them?” he asked playfully.

“That’s not permission for you to do it.”

“Shit!” Frija yelled at the top of her lungs. “I’m freeeezing! Shit!”

If Kirs had half of her husband’s power, they would’ve spent the next day picking up pieces of his body spread across the Elusrian countryside. She drilled him with her unusually sharp fingers, sending him yelping and running for his house for their coats.

“I’m really sorry about him,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ranvir had to speak over Frija’s maniacal giggles.

“I’m going to grab some coats as well,” Gunnor said. Ranvir could see his skin pebbling from the cold and nodded. Frey, who’d gotten her crutches out and struggled here on her own, couldn’t be bothered to go back with him. Instead, she found some of the improvised seating. Ranvir stifled a wince as Kirs helped her into a cart, so they could see the arena better.

“So,” Isgerd said, coming around the perimeter. “How do you like it?”

Ranvir turned to examine the field again. “It’s fine, a lot of ice for someone just participating in an exhibition match.”

She quirked an eyebrow, then said, “Funny. If I trust my senses, you’re not to be feared. You’re a first-stage of the least offensively capable type. But my gut disagrees with my powers. Something tells me the storm didn’t come here under normal conditions.”

Ranvir winced and looked up. She probably wasn’t wrong. His initial storm had dissipated fast, but it seemed to have disrupted the weather pattern in the area. He nodded to her in acknowledgment.

“How would you do the duel?” Ranvir asked. “It’s your exhibition, after all.”

“How did you do it at the academy?”

“First blood when fighting with strangers, surrender with those you knew.”

“Let’s do first blood then,” she scratched at her chin. “Best out of three?”

Ranvir offered her his hand. She froze for a moment, looking at the monstrous appendage. The gray, dry, tough bird skin that covered him from the elbow down, long black talons instead of nails. She took it eventually.

“May you be turned from the Downway.”

Ranvir’s eyebrows rose at the old saying. “And may you never see its darkness,” he finished. She let go and stepped away. A group had come down from her mansion and was approaching.

“What are you thinking about?” Es said. He’d returned with his parents and siblings in tow, but they’d deferred to go sit with the rest of the onlookers. The two tethered stood alone, looking out over the arena.

“How far to push it.” Ranvir admitted. It took Isgerd quite some time to get around the vast ring of ice, but they could both see the child breaking free from the group and running towards the Lord.

“Push it?”

“Es!”

Es ignored Kirs’ call. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t just go up there and trounce Isgerd. I need to give them something to see, something to believe in. Otherwise, this will just destroy the morale.”

“I don’t think it will,” Es said.

“Es!”

Esmund continued, unperturbed. “You’re part of Rime’s Shadow as well. They know Ranvir, they still see you as the village boy.”

Ranvir snorted at that idea, thinking about his troubles over the last few days. “Maybe that’s true, but I should still give them something, right?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“A good show is better than a poor show. Obviously. If you can make it flashy, even better.”

Ranvir nodded and looked at his friend.

“ESMUND!”

“Are you wearing Kirs’ coat?” he was in fact wearing two coats, his own on top of Kirs’.

“Do I look good?”

“Eh, not your style.”

“Es, could you come here, sweetie?”

Color drained from his friend’s face as he turned to look at the wagon. “Looks like I’ve drawn this out for long enough,” he said, quickly pulling off both coats and hurrying away. “I was just making sure it was nice and warm for you.”

Kirs didn’t actually look that annoyed. He helped her put the coat on and they cuddled close to watch the fight. Isgerd was climbing onto the ice. She gestured for him to follow, and he hopped up as well.

Carts and wagons were parked around the arena in what once was a bit of clear ground near the village. People milled in numbers Ranvir’d never seen in the village. Nearly three-hundred men, women, and children milled about.

“Everybody!” Isgerd yelled, her voice carried easily over the crowd. Someone from her group loudly shattered a piece of obsidian. The crack of black glass brought the silence that words alone couldn’t have managed without a proper stage.

“Thank you for coming,” Isgerd said. “Today, we have the distinct pleasure of having one of the village’s tethered return to us. Ranvir joined the academy some years ago and many of you still remember him as a kid running around the village, getting into trouble, and having fun.”

There were some chuckles, more than Ranvir’d expected from someone who hadn’t met him until well into his academy time.

“Ranvir went through a period of intense training at the academy and was then pulled away for even more secretive and specialized training!” she gestured to him. “You can see the effects of it now! He represents the might of Rime’s Shadow and has generously agreed to a match. A display of power and skill!”

Most of that was technically true, but she probably thought she was lying. Which still made it lying. At least in Ranvir’s book. Still, it was better than trying to explain his messy experience over the last few years.

“Let’s give him a warm welcome and a loud applause!”

Ranvir stood awkwardly as people clapped and hollered at him. They were taking way more pride in his heritage than he’d expected. Contemplating for a moment, he considered what to say and do. If anything.

If he was going to make the fight look interesting, then he’d need to move freely, and that would show his wings and arm off. If he was just going to wipe her swiftly, then…

With a deep breath, he channeled a bit more power into his eyes. With purple light reflecting off the ice, Ranvir spread his wings, fully displaying the clawed arm.

Isgerd’s eyes widened, but her mouth was even quicker. “See now the benefits of his training! He has taken on the aspect of a noble bird! The academy’s scholars have protected him against the vile defilements of the Ralith. No flesh-torn could reshape his form!”

Ranvir didn’t react to her words, only taking a slightly more readily looking pose. She nodded at him, then to someone from her group. The obsidian tethered who’d cracked the stone spoke up. “Begin in three… two… one… go!”

Ranvir slipped around the first barrage of ice, ducking under the next, and leapt over the missiles, shooting at his feet. He kept Amanaris hidden for now.

He was still too far away for her to control the ice under his feet, but even at human speeds, he was closing the distance fast. He threw out his first storm bolt. She quickly raised a barrier, then tried to take control of the water. The attack was too fast, however. Ice splintered, shooting sparkling shards skyward. But the barrier held.

Ranvir dodged the counter attack and sent three more along. Finally, the ice under his feet slipped away, so he landed on solidified space. They exchanged quick attacks, dancing at the edge of her range. While she had some practice, real fighting was a lot less controlled. Whenever he blew the ice out from under her feet, she’d stagger away unsettled.

Finally, she grunted in frustration, enhancing her barrier, then gathering a torso-sized icicle. She manipulated it, hardening and strengthening its structure beyond normal ice. She infused her Concept until it steamed so thickly, the audience could hardly make out its shape.

It shattered on Ranvir’s shield of hardened space. Shards cracked in every direction as frost crept up his arm, towards his elbow. The sudden cold froze his hair and eye-lashes, coating them in quickly melting rime.

Ranvir threw two storm bolts. The big one screamed towards her shield, the wind guiding and hastening it, even as it tore the air. The second slipped in a long curve around and behind Isgerd.

The first slammed into her shield, like a hammer on anvil. It sounded like it, too. Massively over-sized tools slamming together to make the whole audience gasp. Even Isgerd looked shocked at the noise.

“Watch out, Mom!” Isgerd’s daughter called from the sidelines, just as his second bolt came in from behind. Isgerd jerked around just as it flew past. The bolt didn’t hit her, but struck the inside of her still-holding shield. Sparkling crystallized water shot from the barrier, hitting Is’ face and arms.

“Damn,” the Lord of Rime’s Shadow muttered, touching a spot of blood on her forearm.

Ranvir’d banked on the shattered ice being sharp or heavy enough to break skin. He’d been right, it turned out. He shook out his hand as the last of the frost melted away from him.

“Do you need a break?” she asked. He noticed her eyes glancing at his sleeve.

“No, I’m good to go.”

She nodded, then to the obsidian tethered. She counted them down a second time. This time, neither burst into movement. Ranvir had seen something he needed to figure out, and she’d seen a weakness.

Arctic wind billowed from her, thick pillow-like clouds of mist fogged the area, soon spreading to reach Ranvir. She was using her ice powers to manipulate and create cold. Ranvir’d once seen Sansir do it, back during the first trimester.

He condensed lines of rigid purple energy, channeling the energy away from himself. Except, it didn’t work. Cold wasn’t an energy, it was the absence of such. He threw out a few other techniques as he tried to pull the cold away. His best immediate attempt came from controlling the wind and creating a buffer, but it was inefficient and only slowed down the temperature.

Ranvir sensed Isgerd going strong. She wouldn’t stop this anytime soon. Probably could continue for another day if she had to. Her Concept was related to the deep cold. The kind of freezing you only got on a cloudless night, after a winter storm. The kind that leaves bodies frozen solid in their beds.

Eventually, the cold got to Ranvir. “Ah shit,” he muttered, tasting blood. His nose had sprung a leak. “You win.”

There were some displeased mutterings from the crowd. Isgerd emerged from the fading mist, looking at him with narrowed eyes.

He shrugged. “I was trying to figure out how to counter the cold.”

She let out a grunt and half-way turned. “Want to make this last round more interesting? How about a wager?”