[Skell]
Patience. Planning. Prudence. To Niles, those words were fairytales. The match barely started before he ripped across the stage like a living laser.
With his white longcoat drifting from tile to tile, Hyland's measured, smug steps couldn't have clashed harder.
Except for - in retrospect - the clash arriving a moment after.
Sabre and shortsword sheared sparks against one another's surface as their wielders locked eyes. Superiority exuded from Hyland's gaze as he gradually overwhelmed Niles not through brute force, but better posture and positioning.
Growing pressure bent Niles backwards. Sweat clouded his headband.
Then he flashed a smile. "Vine Cling!"
A serpentine vine emerged from Niles' fluttering sleeve and coiled around his off-hand. Its path didn't end at his wrist; it spung off for Hyland.
But the ex-Templar had seen the art before. Hyland broke the clinch and backed away.
"Scared?" Niles' vine curled off his middle finger into the shape of a question mark. "Silly me - I thought you hated cowards."
Hyland scoffed as his opponent's art wriggled crude shapes in the air. "Tactical caution," he snidely corrected. "You wouldn't know the difference."
"And you wouldn't know you got played unless someone went and told you."
Wait. Is that…?
"A poor bluff. I see right through you."
Niles found that really funny. "Can you?" He pointed to Hyland's wrist. "Then what's that?"
Hyland was too proud to fall for a trick so childish.
He fell anyway.
His chin hit the ground along with the rest of him. "Wh-what!?" he glanced over to see his wrist drawn to the ground, latched onto by a snaking plant that poked out from the stage.
"Gotcha!" Niles lifted his vine-arm into a cheeky fist - the first vine receding back into his sleeve. "What? Didn't know vines had offshoots!?"
Hyland's eyes lit in shock as he clocked what I - from my angle - already saw.
After he broke off the clinch and Niles cast Vine Cling, a second vine slithered through his clothes and down from his pant leg, burrowing into a crevice between the stage's tiles. Not that the ex-Templar caught a lick of that from his position. All he got were some very distracting motions and taunts. The perfect diversion.
And one whose results Niles rushed to capitalize on.
The swordsman leapt high, driving his blade down to where Hyland kissed the stage. But the ex-Templar recovered quickly and tugged hard on the vine sprouting from the floor.
All of Niles' momentum came to a stop as he was jerked back like a pouncing lion yanked by the tail. As spine crashed down into stone, Hyland managed to bring his sabre under him and sever the vine around his wrist.
Alarm slapped Niles across the face when he looked down the length of his body to see Hyland sprinting closer. Sabre flicked for his legs. Niles lifted them just over the blade and became a ninety-degree angle. Hyland slashed again. Niles nearly kneed himself in the face to avoid it. A third attack forced Niles to roll backwards and up to his feet; Hyland rushed hot on his heels for another attack.
I would've thrown up a block and countered. Niles skipped that step and just bumrushed the ex-Templar before he could bring down his blade.
Hurling himself into his enemy damaged both their wards. But Niles still came out on top.
I think.
They pushed each other away. Hyland shifted to a raised sword stance… before noticing green in his peripheral. "What-"
A tug on Niles' end of the vine pulled Hyland stumbling into an attempted decapitation. Hyland barely dragged iron over his neck in time let his sabre absorb the slash. The force still sent him staggering back. Just to get pulled in again. And again. And again. Steadily knocking him toward the stage's edge.
Every time the vine contracted, shortsword crossed with an off-balance sabre. Niles refused to give Hyland a stray moment to slice the vine between them, and in all the frenzied clashing, Niles scored some shallow cuts.
'Til Hyland found a moment to set his feet and hunker down. Niles pulled and the ex-Knight barely budged. He grit teeth and doubled down with both hands. Hyland only slid a half-foot. Some pride died in Hyland's eyes as he pulled the Niles card - and tried to pull Niles. No dice. Niles resisted just as well.
So Hyland attempted something else: he lifted his end high and slammed the vine downwards like a rope. A vertical wave of his full might traveled down the art's length, whipping the vines around Niles' arm - and consequently, Niles' arm itself. The swordsman bent down as his hand forcibly snapped to the floor. And just when he managed to look back up?
A pommel to the face.
I winced as Niles tumbled back from the blow. Not because of the pain he may or may not have felt. But because he came dangerously close to the stage's corner too.
Though, Hyland didn't chase. He stopped short. Focused.
And incanted.
"Radiant Arc!"
In one fluid motion Hyland's sabre cut through the vine attached to his wrist and fired off a razor-thin blade of ruthless light. Niles was too disoriented to dodge or cast.
All he could do was throw up his blade.
Light impacted metal as Niles pressed two hands into his reverse grip. Radiant Arc's force pushed his heels along a tile. Then another. Arms pressed close to his chest - the art biting sparks into his ward's exterior. But while it took everything I had to endure Radiant Arc, there was one difference between me and Niles that I knew, but would never admit:
Niles was always stronger.
"Hurrrgh!" his face turned crimson. "Grah!"
His blade swung high and tore through the overpowering magical wave. "That's… all?" he panted, light dissipating in front of his tired grin. "Got another one in you, mate? Because I - wh-whoa!"
He went to set a foot behind him. On ground that wasn't there.
Boots slipped and the swordsman tripped backwards off the stage's edge. Hyland didn't even watch him fall. All went exactly to his plan, after all. He turned around, shook his head, and made his way back to his escalift.
A building conceit curled his lips into a cathartic smile. Finally - he must've thought - he was back to where he belonged. Two wins bought him his title back. Soon, his armor. Then ultimately, his glory.
But glory wouldn't bounce back so easily.
The sound of snapping "elastic" echoed behind him. He turned to see nothing.
Like in Belza Hill, his threat loomed skywards. In the light of the chandelier above, Niles descended on Hyland, his Vine Cling letting go of the railing in front of us. Only at the last moment did I catch the energy emitting from his primed blade.
"Whirligig!"
Breakneck, razor-sharp rotations of Niles' sword ripped through the air for Hyland. The startled ex-Templar threw up a hasty block that might've stopped an ordinary slash.
But not this one.
Blades collided and Niles' superior power blew Hyland wholly off his feet and across the stage like a pitched ball. His side hit the tiles and skidded against them, rolling from back to face to back again 'til he slowed to an awkward stop near the opposite end of the stage.
Breaths stilted from the few remaining applicants on the upper floor. Hyland was one of the biggest threats of the year; to see him get flung like a discarded doll, by Niles of all people…
He… he made it back. Tension released from my bones. …Urgh. Always got some wild new trick up your sleeve, don't you?
"Credit where it's due," Soleil propped hands on her waist, "guy knows how to pull a comeback."
"Didn't he fall out of the ring?" an applicant on the other side of the railing peered into the pit. "Shouldn't he have lost?"
"No siree," Merriline shook her head beside Karthwyn. "Rules say you have to touch the grass. He was this close," she held two metallic fingers a millimeter apart. "But no cigar!"
A groan came from Hyland's side of the stage. He rose with a refocusing shake of the head, ward orange… just to find a similarly-hued Niles across from him, stumbling around in a stupor.
"…Abyss, that blasted vine. You should've made this simple and-" Hyland squinted, then leaked an unsmiling laugh. "A jest. Must be. An art that dizzies you? What madman would teach themselves such a thing!?"
"Sorryyyy… whaaat waaas thaat?" Niles' moaned, a glove clutched tightly to the side of his spinning head.
Hyland's teeth grinded hard enough to chew bark. Maybe even steel, once he glanced down at his sabre. A slight chip dug into the middle of its blade.
"You…!" his face exploded with red wrath. "The one memento I've kept from my tenure as a Templar, and you, you lowly cretin - you've notched it!"
Eyelids scrunched and eyebrows raised. A few unsteady blinks, and Niles seemed to find some level of stability. "Ugh. Forgot you used to be a Templar."
"I am a Templar," insisted Hyland.
Niles cocked his head in momentary confusion. "…Wait, I get it. You're talking about the future. In that case," he shot a thumb at himself, "I'm one too."
"No - no you are not! All these witless antics. Ridiculous arts. What makes you think a dunce like you deserves my title?"
"…Deserve?" Niles shrank ever so slightly. "I don't. But there's something I've gotta make right, whether I deserve it or not. This is the only way how."
Make right? But way back when, didn't he say he just wanted to be a Templar for the money?
"Then you admit to your unworthiness," said Hyland.
Niles fumed. "And what do you want out of the Order that's so great? Lemme guess."
Hyland and Niles opened their mouths at the same time.
"To have my name remembered across the nation," they both uttered.
Not in the exact same words, of course. Hyland sprinkled his answer with fancy spices - some galangal and a little saffron - while Niles doused his in mundane salt and pepper. But the intent was still the same.
Surprise glinted in Hyland's eyes. "How did you…"
The ex-Templar's gaze stopped, then drifted high up to mine.
"So he wasn't lying," Niles noted. "But then, that's it? Fame? What does that matter?"
"You wouldn't understand. You're just another countryman who'll be forgotten to the mists of time a month after you perish."
"Will I? Because, if so… I couldn't care less. Titles? Greatness? Power? Those things aren't worth the dung I stepped in on my way here!" His eyes closed. Fiery passion surged behind them. "It's how you leave this world that lives on! Searing Sword!"
Black clouds steeped the red-hot surface of Niles' shortsword, trailing its tip into the air above. Smog darkened the stage further, warming even the swordsman's lofty audience.
But no one was less impressed than Hyland. He entered another polished stance. "Enough weightless words; my victory is overdue!"
Silver glinted along the edge of his raised sabre. He must've figured he had no need for similar theatrics. His weapon wasn't the fleeting intensity of heat; it was practicality and pure, honed skill.
For a moment the stage grew still as the two stared. Not at each other, but past them into the future, locking eyes with their ambitions.
Then they returned to the moment. One last wall stood in their paths.
A wall they'd crumble here and now.
Niles blazed forth first. Fumes trailed along the stage as Hyland kept his motionless stance.
The ex-Templar didn't shift or even blink as Niles veered into a sharp turn inches away from him. Blurred feet ran laps around and cut across the stage with smog following closely.
Hyland's narrowed eyes fixed onto his opponent's breakneck movements. Soon the stage was effectively lit in interlacing flame. But he wouldn't twiddle his thumbs waiting for an opening or attack. He always hungered for opportunity. That hunger thrust him into the infernal stage.
The first clash of silver and scarlet occurred a second after. High-speed glimpses of my greatest enemies appeared at starkly different points among the smoking field.
A vine shot from the smog. It twisted and curved but Hyland's sabre cut it short regardless. A quick use of Hallowed Ground proved useless when Niles - as he found himself running straight into it - leapt sky-high and landed past it.
"A shame you're such a blowhard!" Niles' voice leapt from the obscured arena. "I thought you were cute!"
"You thought…?" Hyland caught himself. "Be silent and fight!"
The swordsmen pushed themselves faster as passion burned the stage ever hotter. Clanging blades became persistent. For brief moments the battle composed long strings of metallic notes in a manic two-man orchestra.
But for as strong as they were, these two challengers… couldn't compete for an eternity.
Fumes receded along the stage. First we saw their hair. Then weapons. Then the sweat glistening just under their red wards.
"This… is it!" panted Niles.
"Even a mere applicant… is right on occasion," Hyland agreed, equally out of breath.
Niles crouched into a super-heated reverse-grip.
Hyland shifted the weight in his legs as his sabre hung high - reflecting his glare.
Light bathed the stage over Hyland. Darkness clung to it under Niles. A breathless moment passed.
Then they threw themselves toward center stage.
Scarlet and silver stormed into a climactic collison.
And then… metal dug deep into the face of the stage. It was the upper half of a blade.
My eyes drew to the reflection along its surface. In it…
Hyland carried a shattered sabre.
And Niles stood within the falling remains of a shattered ward.
That sudden chill was my first movement in a minute. H-he…
Even Karthwyn took a moment to be sure of what he saw. "The winner… is Hyland. By the shattering of his opponent's ward."
Although he'd won, Hyland - whose own ward started to dissipate - sure didn't look like he wanted to celebrate. Both him and Niles stared at their hands in silence.
"All that heat and force…" Hyland muttered first, his gaze wincing as his ward dissipated. Resentment soon pulled his eyes wide, and up to Niles.
The swordsman stood at a blank loss - mind lost somewhere worlds away. Had things gone a little different, he'd be a Templar, full stop. But he was still an applicant - still in the game. I knew what that felt like.
That wasn't all I knew. Spite and slighted superiority flared in the ex-Templar's glare. A look I was all-too familiar with.
"…Couldn't merely accept defeat," Hyland muttered. "You had to steal my blade on the way down! If you want it so badly, take it!"
The wrecked weapon sprung for Niles' ribs - still sharp enough to run him through. He didn't expect a thing.
I did.
"Bad. Idea." My fingers clenched around Hyland's throat from behind - his blade stopping just short. "Three words. And you can forget about being remembered."
Hyland's attempt to swallow was caught and seized by my palm. His hand tightened around the broken sabre. The incantation sat on my tongue.
What came next?
Karthwyn never let us find out.
"All of you, off the stage - immediately!" roared the Commandant.
Our eyes rose to the three Templars. Merriline and Valérie were clearly poised to step in if it weren't for me arriving first with Shadow Form. Judging by the look on Karthwyn's face, he still was.
Niles came back to reality and stepped back. Hyland dropped his pathetic sabre. And reluctantly… I let go.
Hyland forced himself to scoff. "…I've still won. You two? Fight amongst the scraps."
What sort of Templar takes a cheap shot after the match is over! If those three weren't watching, I'd…
I grimaced away the sentiment. I wanted to tell him exactly what was on my mind, but anything more might endanger my chances of even participating in the next round. Karthwyn must've had half a mind to disqualify me then and there, judging by how his eyes bored into me. So I just watched as Hyland made his way for the eastern escalift. Leaving Niles and I.
The swordsman eyed me with a difficult expression. "Purple…?"
I didn't look back "…Shadow Form."
—————————————————————————————————
I materialized on the upper floor, stomping past Templar and applicant alike.
Snippets of whispered conversation floated past my ears. Peers discussing the match and its end. Valérie respectfully urging that something be done about Hyland's behavior, backed by Merriline. Karthwyn waiving their concerns with a clear look of distaste at my use of dark magic.
It wouldn't do me any favors to listen in, even though I could. Besides, more words awaited me at my usual spot west of the pit. Those weren't so easily avoided.
"Feel good about your little stint as hero?" needled Soleil.
…Not in the mood for this.
"I wasn't playing hero," I walked up to her. "Especially not for Niles."
She smiled. "Ya say that. For some reason though, I can't quite believe like you do."
"Soleil," I pushed her name through a fence of teeth. "Drop it."
"Just lemme say my piece, 'kay? I'm not your keeper. But I am your ally. Which makes me wonder why you muscled in at all. Think about your future."
I thought a moment. Sighed. Then moved to lean over the railing "…I know. Let things play out and Hyland might've… gutted Niles. That would've been one more major threat knocked off the board. With him out of the way and Yamui having already lost to me, who'd be the next biggest player Karthwyn can throw in my path? Cirian? Ryzza? Not easy matches by any stretch, but I'd take them over… him."
"So why didn't ya?" she stood at my side, chin hanging over my shoulder.
Why? A question so big I couldn't even answer it when prompted. Were it anyone else, I think I would've just let it happen. Not like any of the applicants would step in for me. And Niles was the worst of them all. So why? Why was he any different?
"Letting old feelings get in the way of your goals," she continued. "I warned ya about that. He used to be your pal. Emphasis on the past tense."
I closed my eyes. Grimaced. I didn't expect to feel warm fingers on mine. Something panged inside me.
"You're heading into the final round. Ya may not get another chance to get off this line you're straddling before it's too late. I get that ya think I don't take anything seriously. And," she half-nodded," you're mostly right. But… I do want ya to join me in the Order."
I turned, and looked into her fire-orange eye. She was an amazing liar, I could tell.
But I could also tell that her words were completely genuine.
I almost got lost in that solitary eye. The Ordeal distracted me up 'til then, but the longer I gazed, the more beautiful it became.
I made myself turn away. "I just… I just wanna know. Niles told me his reasons for signing up. Rounds, he said."
"Yeah?"
"And, before all this, he told me about his mom. How she led some bad people to his village. They ruined everything. Hurt people. And then… she died. When he says there's something he's gotta make right… I hate the guy, but I just can't get it out of my head. The reason he's here. The reason he hates dark mages. Everything. What if it's all linked?"
"Skell? I get it. I really do. But some things… they're better left in the dark. Don't ya think?"
I turned back. Away from the mystery in my peripheral.
And found myself back in the warmth of her eye.