31. 31 #2
Neiord wears a set of light training armor, scaled plates strapped across his torso and shoulders, enough to dull a strike but not slow his movements.
Defymin, bare-chested, still displaying the ugly slice down his back from our last encounter.
Though at this very moment, he moves with a grace that belies the injury.
His tail slices and whips through the water as if it has a mind of its own.
Neiord clutches his double-pronged spear tight to his chest, waiting for an opening.
Defymin stratagems low, his tail sweeping in a controlled arc as he brings his blade upward in the same motion.
The strike carves against Neiord’s armor with a flash of sparks, and the force of it knocks him sideways.
He aims to recover, thrusting his spear forward, but Defymin anticipates the move.
With a fluid spin, he reverses his grip, slicing vertically toward the cavern ceiling.
The blow slams into Neiord’s helm, hard enough that the thin metal splits, and his body goes limp.
He crumples under the weight of the water, unconscious before he sinks to the floor.
Predictable. He's dragged off the mat without ceremony.
Failure here carries consequences. The defeated are sent back to Current One for retraining, but if they get sent back a second time, that is the end.
No second chances. They are returned to civilian life, stripped of the chance to fight.
Some labor the lava smiths forging weapons; others get a chance to work within the castle walls.
Each pair of finlings fights with strength, endurance, and honor.
Unfortunately, I don't get to watch Keil’s duel, since he is going at the same time as Aniah—and I can't miss hers. It’s remarkable to see how far she's come over the past few weeks.
Her skills have sharpened beyond anyone's expectations, making me realize that doubt has no place when judging the abilities of those in this kingdom.
Nyxalene has a soft spot, Defymin has risked befriending the “human wannabe,” and Aniah, though she seemed fragile at first, more than made up for it with her speed and precision.
She moves fluidly around her opponent, Evorian, a follower of Carella who towers over her with a broad, muscular frame and a thick, armored tail that cuts through the water with every stroke.
He's strong—strong enough to catch Aniah's strikes on his forearms and twist away from the cuts before they can land cleanly.
Each time Aniah targets Evorian's fins, he raises an arm to shield himself away from them.
As Aniah shifts toward him, he turns his body, deflecting her spear with sharp, practiced movements.
Even when she manages to land a strike, her opponents strength prevents any faltering.
But Aniah is faster. She darts around, changing direction before Evorian can anticipate the next move.
Every attack he attempts is met with a pivot, a deflection, or a precise cut.
He swings at her, but she's already gone.
He turns to follow the direction she is moving, only for her double-pronged spear to find another opening.
Then, in the briefest gap between one charge and the next, Aniah closes the distance and slashes straight across the center of his face.
His body jerks to a halt and for a heartbeat, he remains upright.
Almost as if he hasn't realized he's been struck.
Then his stability gives out. His eyes roll back, weapons slipping through his hands, and his vast frame folds below her, plummeting to the cavern floor.
Blood seeps into the water, swirling around his weakened form.
Face down, his head rests on his arms. He can’t go any further.
Zevrin calls the match, and her opponent is pulled out without ceremony, leaving Aniah floating and victorious.
Her manner is relaxed despite the violence she just delivered mere moments ago.
If Aniah can wield such speed and precision, my chances against Carella tonight may be possible.
My serpent form and physical training will have to make up for the magical abilities I have yet to control, but that’s what these past few weeks of secret late-night training sessions were for.
Giving me a backup plan in case Orion’s fails.
I swallow, feeling the weight of the duel pressing on me even now.
I try to steady my racing thoughts. With enough distractions filling my mind, I'm thankful that the one physical distraction who seems to follow me everywhere has matters to attend to back at the palace. I haven’t seen him since before dinner, when he left in a hurry.
What for? I have no idea. Nyxalene stays at the palace while Orion trains my magical abilities, but the time I spent so close to him earlier today has only tangled my feelings for him even more so.
He always manages to frustrate me, and somehow, that frustration only seems to intensify the desire lurking beneath it.