4 Chapter 3–Duels

I dry my hair and slip on a grey shirt. Once I'm done, I leave the changing room, going up the stairs back to the main floor. I open my room door—Marshal has woken up. He's pulling a charred shirt over his head.

"Hey Benji," he says, tossing the shirt into the bin.

"Good morning," I say. "Did you get in a fight," I ask, noting the ash in his hair.

He stares at me blankly for a second.

"Oh this, Yeah I got a bit of a scuffle last night," he says, giving me a thumbs up," But I'm perfectly fine."

"If you say so," I say.

He grabs a fresh outfit from his dresser.

"The baths any good," he asks, heading toward the door.

"Next level," I respond.

"We can look at the listings together, so let's meet up with Kate in the common room, okay," he says.

"Okay," I say, as he leaves.

"You two sure wake up early," Kate says, walking up to our table.

"Not surprised you'd sleep in, princess," Marshal replies, rolling his eyes.

"I just haven't adjusted yet, okay," Kate says—annoyed, "Anyways let's go look at the listings and get something to eat."

"Ooh, I wonder what they're making," Marshal says, getting up to follow Kate.

"Something good I hope," I sigh, my stomach growling.

Marshal laughs, "Yeah."

"Hey, Kate, What's your affinity anyhow," I ask her, as we walk.

She glances at me. "It's a surprise, You'll see," she says.

'Curious.' I think tilting my head.

"Oh, It's not fire," Marshal inquires.

"We're here," Kate says, opening the main entrance door.

The announcement board has a large list of names. A few others are scanning the list for their own. We join them, our eyes scanning for ours. I spot Kate's name "Kate Regneil vs Tuli Madsen" . I tap her, showing her opponent's name.

I'm about to go back to searching when I hear Marshal chuckle to himself. "Oh this is rich," he says, "Benji, come see this."

Confused—I walk over to him. Then I see what he's pointing to. Around the middle of the listings, it read my name, and my opponent is—Marshal. "'Benji Dariff vs Marshal Cranel'. Looks like we're facing off sooner than we thought," he says—grinning.

Marshal then puts a hand on my shoulder. "Don't go easy on me just because your Mom is hot stuff, okay," he says.

I laugh nervously.

"I'm serious, and doesn't this school have an elf healer for a nurse," he inquires.

"Yeah," I reply, remembering the headmaster boasting about it in my acceptance letter—among other things.

"Then I'll be double fine—I may not know elf magic well, but I do know my high resistance to marks means she can heal me," he says, with a bright smile.

I sigh at his crude explanation, but it's a relief to hear.

Kate taps me. "Let's go to the dining hall," she says, walking toward the hall.

"And let's all do our best out there," Marshal says, following. I smile as I follow the two.

We sit in the stands of the academy's nearby arena. It's around mid-day, and we watch as the combatants fight with vigor.

"Ugh," Marshal sighs, tapping his foot, his armor lightly jangling.

"Getting huffy won't make it start any sooner," Kate says to him, taking a swig of water from her canteen.

"Yeah I know," he says—aggravated. "It's not fair you got to go first though," he sighs, shaking his head ruefully. "That poor girl, you don't know how to hold back do you," he says.

Kate looks uncomfortable. "I didn't think it'd be so—", she says, looking away.

"—effective."

The girl they're referring to is Kate's opponent. Her affinity is water. A terrible matchup against Kate who I now knew has the unique affinity "lightning".

The match kicked off quickly. Kate dashed toward the timid-looking girl—releasing an electrical surge. The girl tried to counter with a ball of water, but she was such a nervous wreck it wouldn't hold its shape—exploding. This left the poor girl drenched, and then she was struck by the surge. Her entire body spasmed, and she fell to the ground. Kate had been horrified.

Though I too felt bad for the girl, lethal force is allowed. Mostly because our nurse has truly next-level skills—some even compare her to the Myths. So even if the girl's body couldn't handle the nurse's high-level healing marks, she's in good hands at least.

"I'm sure she'll be okay," I say, looking over to Kate with what I hope is a reassuring smile. "I- think your affinity is really cool," I say. Her cheeks flush, and she looks away shaking her head lightly.

"This match is finally wrapping up," Marshal says, grinning at me. "We're up," he says, giving me a pat on the back. As he starts down the aisle hall I hesitate for a few moments before starting toward the aisle. I take a couple of steps, but what Kate says makes me stop.

"I'll be cheering for you, so don't lose, okay."

My heart flutters as I feel my face curl into a foolish grin. I want to say something cool, but I don't want to ruin this moment. So I just give her a thumbs-up—not turning to meet her eyes. I can feel my ears burning as I run down the hall.

Once in the changing room, I adjust some straps on my armor.

It's light armor, enough to protect me, but not enough to weigh me down. Similar to Marshal's—the key difference being his breastplate plates his entire torso. I'm also sure he has chainmail under it all.

After making sure everything's secure. I hear the horn sound, signaling the end of the match.

The sun is bearing down onto the dry sands of the arena. I shield my eyes as I walk toward Marshal at a brisk pace. He waves at me—the headmaster standing between us. I note the bloodstained sand in our vicinity. So many fights had started and ended right here. I resist the urge to grab my blade.

"Both participants understand, and accept the terms of this duel, correct," the headmaster asks.

"Yes," Marshal and I say in unison.

"Ok, and if your opponent is incapacitated or yields, the match will end," the headmaster says, walking toward the sidelines.

We both nod. "Alright," the headmaster shouts, raising his arms, "Begin!"

We stare at each other for a long moment—neither of us yet wishing to advance. Marshal grins as we begin to circle each other. The arena is silent as we assess one another. I can't help, but don a grin of my own. I'm even more excited now than when I was coming down from the stands.

If there's anything I'm confident in—it's my fighting ability. I am the son of an elite—besides being a flashy title—it means my mom was, and still is a deadly assassin. Though I still couldn't wrap my head around my bubbly mom being among the hardened Elites and their ranks—I knew firsthand of her skill.

'I won't lose.'

My hand twitches—inching toward my blade. Marshal lunges at me, while I secure my hand around my dagger. In one swift motion, he releases a stream of water from his wrist that hardens, and rears back as he swings. I duck, swiping at him, continuing the motion into a roll. My swipe barely nicking his arm.

I hop to my feet, as he thrust the pole of water toward me. I try to grasp it, but he returns that portion's viscosity back to normal, so it simply falls apart in my hands. He rears the pole back, lengthening it and swinging it back at me—hard. I brace myself as the blow flings me two meters away.

I note the light crack on my shoulder plate as I stand. Marshal looks slightly shocked yet impressed at himself. We exchange grins and charge at one other. He takes another swing at me, I duck driving my blade into him. Feeling résistance I let shadows seep from my hands, surrounding my blade. I command them to lengthen, but I'm struck in the back of the head by Marshal. I pull away reeling from the blow.

Finding my senses quickly I doge his incoming thrust. His attacks get greedier and greedier as we dance and doge around the sands. My chance shows itself in one of his more wild swings, and the shadows cloaking my blade sharpen. As he swings again, I slice through his pole, curving my blade up, stabbing into his stomach. I lengthen the shadows that cloak my blade, dragging it up as I pull away.

Marshal grimaces at the pain as I slowly create distance. His face slowly curls into a smile as he speaks.

"As expected you're not too bad," he mutters.

The water pole in his hand splashes into a puddle. He releases a new stream of water. This one is shorter, yet wider. It morphs and sculpts itself into a sword. He looks up at me with a glint of something new in his eyes—exhilaration. He's enjoying this fight as much as I am. I get into stance—dagger ready.

He sprints toward me with frightening new speed, bringing down his sword. My guarded arm flings up to protect me, but something's not right. There is an audible cracking and grinding sound. I throw up my arm attempting to retreat, but he won't let up.

He swings and thrusts not giving an opportunity to counter. I'm having trouble dodging as the sand gave easily with every step. I felt like I could slip at any moment.

'That's it.'

As Marshal thrust I lean backwards letting my footing slip from beneath my feet. He grazes my shirt as I fall. It tears instantly making me regret dearly that I forgot my chainmail shirt at the dorm. As I fall to the ground, I open my shadow underneath me. The darkness greets me as I fall inside.

I let go of my dagger as I examine the arm guard he cut. 'That cut is way too deep—even for hardened water.' I think—frowning. As I run my hand across the crack, the grinding sound comes to mind. I chuckle internally. 'He must have water cycling the blade's edge at high speeds. Very impressive and very deadly. I need to avoid any direct hits at all cost.'

I look up, through the non-light—I see Marshal. He's looking around trying to anticipate my next move. Though I didn't have many options with how sunny it is today. 'It won't be a surprise attack, but it's all I've got!'

I leap out of Marshal's shadow, my newly formed shadow sword slamming down. His own sword comes up behind him to block clashing with mine. My heart sinks as mine shatters.

'Dammit, I didn't put enough into my blade.'

Marshal spins to swing at me while I'm vulnerable. I twist mid-air attempting to dodge, but the searing pain was enough to know he got me. It somehow hurt more than being cut by a normal sword—though that's the least of my worries right now. I roll away as he stabs at me. I crawl back to my feet and create some distance.

I dare a glance toward the stands where Kate is sitting. She looks back at me with worried eyes. The flame that is my resolve flickers, but I refuse to let it go out. Still keeping my distance from Marshal—I breathe in and then out.

'Slow down, and think, Benji. You've got this.' I look up, assessing him once again.

'That sword is my biggest problem. I can't get close or it'll shred my armor. And while I get the feeling he can't keep this up for long I can't risk this turning into an endurance match. I have no long-range weapons on hand and—'

I unconsciously reach up—touching the mark.

'Magic is my only option, and I can't hold back this time.' I think, remembering how my sword shattered. Yet even though I had a plan in mind, and knew what to do—I hesitate. I bite my lip trying to find my courage—then I hear Kate's voice crying out from the stands.

"Benji!"

"You can win this!"

"Don't let that Elite wannabe beat you!"

I laugh a little at the last comment, but she's right I can beat him. 'I will beat him.' my mind echos. Marshal squints up at Kate and chuckles.

"Someone's playing favorites," he says, looking over to me conspiratorially. "I think she's still mad about papers," he whispers, with a toothy grin.

After a moment, he stares at me curiously, "Isn't this the part where you charge at me and defeat me in one final clash?"

I smile confidently. "Something like that—this is where I stop holding back," I say.

He nods his head, "Assuming you haven't been going easy. This is like your trump card?" I consider it and nod. "Yeah, my trump card," I say, releasing shadows.

I grip them tight as they solidify into a long pole. Marshal lets out a gasp of admiration and shock as a wickedly curved blade emerges from the pole's end.

The scythe blade's mass builds and its edges thin becoming razor sharp. I focus on its inner workings making sure they're just right, and take a moment to admire my work. Wisps of untame shadow coming off the blade.

I start to create more distance. Marshal eyes my newly formed blade.

"Really ending it in one shot, huh?"

I nod—though I'm not sure it was a question. He looks disappointed for a moment, before his grin returns.

"I'll match you then," he says, closing his eyes—concentrating. Meanwhile, I stop content with the distance between us.

Soon his blade is steaming, and a sound that can only be described as cycling water sings—ringing throughout the arena. He's already broken a sweat by the time I ask him if he's ready. He nods. I heft the scythe in my hands, and we charge toward each other.

About four meters before we clash, I rear back my blade and swing, clenching the trigger. My blade hurls toward him on a chain thanks to the launching mechanism I incorporated. The blade rips into his armor, and straight through him—impaling the ground below.

Marshal coughs up blood, his water blade instantly evaporating. He falls to the ground as I stand up from the recoil of the scythe that'd knocked me off my feet.

I swiftly approach Marshal, who is still trying to move into a standing position. While I admire his gusto, I really wish he'd stand down—the match would have been called already if he did.

"Do you yield," I ask.

His attempts to stand failed, so Marshal rests on one knee instead. He says nothing, looking up at me grinning with his bloodied mouth. I don't know if he can speak, but I didn't want him to try.

"Wake up in time to take your third trial, okay," I whisper before promptly knocking him unconscious.

I look over to the headmaster and nurse who stand on the sidelines.

"He's been incapacitated," I say, with a loud voice.

The headmaster nods, and I release the shadows from my influence. They disperse like smoke, snaking into the nearest shadow, returning home. I pick Marshal up, and walk over to the nurse. She stood by two simple beds. I lay Marshal on one staring at him for a moment.

I turn to leave, but the nurse grabs my wrist stopping me. I wince both from how hard she's grasping me, and from my injuries. She wears a calm, almost teasing smile almost as if she wants me to try to resist despite my injuries. A chill goes down my spine as I feel the sudden, intense urge to run. Despite this urge, I let her lead me to the second bed.

As I lay here, the adrenaline wearing off, I really start to feel my injuries. My ringing head, the gash in my side, and all the other scrapes and bruises I've acquired.

I look over to my side to watch the nurse work. She's taken off Marshal's shirt and armor with impressive efficiency, and her hands glide across his body as she bandages him. First aid was necessary due to the severity of his wounds. Even with high-level marks, it'd take a couple of hours to heal.

She takes a pen-sized metal cylinder from her coat pocket and scrawls some marks on his body. She then leans over to check the clipboard she set down prior. She then scrawls a few more marks before walking over to me.

As she removes the top half of my armor and shirt, I notice the small knife she uses to make removing my shirt easier. After removing my shirt, and pocketing her knife, she pokes the gash in my side making me flinch. She smiles innocently as she hums a sweet tune. Her eyes are focused, and her hands move with purpose, now that I look—she's very pretty. This is true for most elves, but she somehow looks better? A fuzzy sweet hue surrounds her as she works, but I think that's just the blood loss.

I wince as the light-searing sensation of the mark being drawn sets in. She draws the marks quickly, but it feels like an eternity as I feel each stroke. She then leans in really close to my face.

I think she's going to kiss me before she brings her hand up to my face lightly caressing the mark. It feels like electricity as lightly traces it with her finger.

She looks curious but remains silent. She draws another mark on my forehead, and the lightheadedness seems to fade. I'm still tired, but I could stand. I ask if I can leave, and she nods—going back over to tend to Marshal.

The worst of my wounds are just about healed, but an oppressive feeling of fatigue clings to me.

I get to the changing rooms and take off the rest of my armor. Luckily I have a spare shirt that I switch into. As I'm wandering the halls making my way back to Kate I can't help but smile. 'I did it, I really did it.' I think, smiling.

'One more trail. I can do this.'