This situation was somewhat predictable. From the detention center to clearing everyone, it would be stupid not to see this coming. Xenon stabbed his sword into the ground and started stretching. "I suggest you do the same," he said with a smirk.
"I refuse," I retorted, unwilling to be a part of any of this. He was strong; he made that quite obvious.
He could easily resist the hyperbolic gravity and even raise the temperature of the surroundings exponentially. In comparison, I didn't even know how these abilities of mine functioned. Xenon, still stretching, now looked at his weapon more frequently. "Maybe something else?" he whispered as his sword became an axe, then a mace.
He sifted through many weapons before landing on a sword again, but this time a rapier like mine.
"Stop trying to look cool!" the gravity woman screamed from a distance.
How could he shift from weapon to weapon so easily?
"I said I'm not fighting you," I urged.
"Sparring—and you don't have a choice," he continued before I could speak up.
"Don't forget you're a criminal. Take this as your assessment; your performance will determine the severity of your punishment."
I unwillingly began stretching myself, going through my normal training routine. Xenon eyed my movements, seemingly assessing them.
"You know martial arts?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice.
I responded with a shake of the head. "These are the movements I use for training."
He shook his head with a grin. "This is going to be interesting."
It isn't, I thought. There were other things I needed to do right now.
Searching for Tristan was a priority, but I was sure if I were to run, I would be caught immediately.
"Let's get this over with." I was in a hurry and knew I would lose, so I just...
Argh
I barely managed to block his sudden attack. He formed a tight-lipped smile. I leaped backward, keeping as much distance as possible.
"Nice reflexes," he said as he charged towards me. He swung again, and I blocked. I now took the offensive. I stabbed toward his head, but he avoided it easily.
I noticed the sword wasn't in his hand and dropped into a squat as I felt heat hover above my head. Rolling backward, I saw his weapon floating in the air where my head had been.
"Not fair," I accused.
"You don't rely on pure sword skills in a fight," he responded as he thrust his weapon into the air above.
His voice seemed different—no, off. It couldn't be much, though, so I ignored it.
I looked up to see a pillar of fire fly into the sky before breaking into different bits and descending like shooting stars. I avoided most of them, but a tiny piece landed on my shirt and lit it up.
"Shit..." I said while ripping off my rag-like shirt. More pieces landed on me while I tore it off, and Xenon didn't give me any space either. I slashed aimlessly to keep him at bay while still dodging the comets.
"How about this," he grinned, and I thrust upward on instinct as the air above my head suddenly heated up. My rapier penetrated the massive boulder of pure fire and dissipated it with an explosion. Gusts of silver specks flew from my weapon into the sky.
"So I can do that," I thought.
"That's the spirit!" Xenon cheered as he dashed at me again. Lunging back, I adjusted my footing and made a light thrust with my blade; a beam of formless silver made its way to his chest. He evaded easily, even touching it with his bare hands.
"What was that meant to do?" he asked, irritated, as his hand ignited with a crimson flame, dousing my silvery specks.
His expression shifted slowly—he wasn't like this in the beginning.
"Give the kid a break!" the gravity woman screamed from where she was.
As I turned to face her direction, I felt the ground beneath my feet rumble ever so slightly. Reflexively, I backflipped away as a column of fire erupted from where I had formerly stood. It was massive, at least three meters in diameter.
"The backflip wasn't necessary," he rambled jealously.
"Are you trying to kill me?!" I screamed, as part of my hand was now burnt from his recent attack.
"You rained fire on me, now you're trying to burn me whole. Is this your idea of a spar?"
He conjured a stool of fire and sat down.
"Your techniques are crude but very effective; movements aren't wasteful, you're quick on your feet and also on the uptake," he smiled with his eyes closed—then his expression inverted. Joy vanished; eyes hollow; lips downturned.
"If physical ability was the only criterion, you might be one of the best out there... but it isn't," his voice resounded through the whole arena. Then he continued,
"Physical strength alone isn't enough to protect you from the true dangers of this world."
He paused as the temperature of the arena began increasing at an astronomical rate. His face was now dead serious, with the slightest hint of... disappointment?
"What are you doing?!" I screamed at the top of my voice as the heat dried my throat.
The people at the viewing area screamed, and others ran. I followed suit, fleeing to the hallway Xenon and I had used to get here. Many people were running in this direction, and some were about to exit when a wall of fire came to life before the exit.
"What the hell…"
"What's the branch head…"
"Let's bring it down."
Men and women attacked using their various attributes. Those with water affinities sprayed the wall with all the water they could manifest. Wind affinities tried blowing the fire in another direction. A foolish man even launched his own fire at the wall as he screamed, "Fight fire with fire!"
Turning around, I saw the gravity woman arguing with Xenon. "Maybe Tina can talk some sense into him," a voice somewhere in the crowd said. I looked at the wall of fire and then at Xenon. Setting my blade and adjusting my posture, I thrust at the wall—but it had no effect.
"Shit," I said, still thinking what the best course of action was. From what I could tell, I had some level of resistance to the extreme heat and was the one Xenon was testing. "Why did he suddenly go haywire?" I asked myself but couldn't form an answer; I knew too little about him. Setting my stance, I tensed all the muscles in my body and began a charge toward him.
The temperature increased exponentially the nearer I got, the smell of burning air irritating my nose and stinging my eyes. He glanced at me briefly before resuming his argument with the gravity woman—Tina. The name didn't fit the image of the woman that possessed it.
I imagined a light-voiced, "help me" woman when I heard that name. The person before me was anything but; her muscles rivaled Xenon's—though he wasn't really muscular to boot. He continued ignoring my charge, assuming it wouldn't have any effect. Setting my stance once more, I imagined all the muscles in my body working in unison as I transferred the energy from my legs, to my waist, then finally my arms as I thrust with full force.
Xenon watched the beam of formless silvery ice approach him nonchalantly. He obviously didn't intend to dodge. He stretched out his hand while facing Tina as the beam connected. I held my stance as the formless silver continued flowing from my blade.
He faced me, his eyebrows now raised in surprise. The silver crawled up his arm while it simultaneously ignited a blue flame. I fell to the ground, my energy now exhausted as the temperature began its rapid descent. Looking up, my eyes beheld a magnificent statue of ice.
"He's frozen solid," my lips quivered as the words left my mouth.
I—I did it. The clouds slowly gathered, their colour now much darker as they obstructed the sun. It was about to rain. The man that seemed immovable was now nothing but decoration. Tina eyed him—now a confused-looking silver statue—from head to toe.
"I always knew he'd go out like this," she said almost comically. Walking over to him, I staggered slightly as all my energy drained from the last thrust. Ten thousand thrusts a day—that was the result of my training. He was now only a few centimeters from me. I smacked his shoulder hard, though I felt the pain more than he did.
"That's for when you gave me the elixir," I said, my voice shaking slightly from the pain.
"So… like… is he dead?" a voice asked, as rapid questions sprang from that one.
"He indeed is," I said triumphantly. Tina at my side shook her head disapprovingly.
"Sadly, something like this isn't nearly enough to kill him."
I looked at her with a certain expression.
"That can't be—he's literally frozen solid."
Xenon was frozen while his face was still shocked. His hands were outstretched, still in the position they'd been when he tried blocking my attack. The pose was actually quite funny, but why did he look like he'd suddenly moved? It was slight—probably my imagination—but it tensed me nonetheless.
I approached him feigning nonchalance.
"That's the spirit!" I exclaimed while tapping his cheeks mockingly.
"I don't recommend you do that," Tina advised, then walked away with Alice at her side.
"What are you—argh," I turned back to Xenon and saw his hand had thawed out.
"The… shit?" My voice strained; I was barely able to breathe. The remainder of his body thawed rapidly and in a few seconds, the sly bastard that was Xenon looked at me with an unreadable expression.
"That was quite refreshing, don't you think?"
I responded with a struggle, "What do you mean, asshole?"
He threw me to the floor and answered, "You think you really beat me? I just took your attack to see what would happen. I didn't expect to be frozen solid, but that itself wasn't a problem." His eyes were void of any emotion—only void-brown eyes met my shaky gaze.
Why did he suddenly change? Was the comical version of himself he'd presented earlier fake? Turning back, the walls of fire still blocked all exits. If he'd died, the wall would have vanished. The smell of petrichor slowly filled the air—the rain was imminent.
Xenon approached me slowly, menacingly, cracking his neck as he did so.
"Why? I thought you wanted a friendly spar?" he laughed at my question and responded, "Guess."
As I thought of an answer to buy time, a voice asked from a distance, "Sir, why are you trapping us here?"
"He's right—fight the boy, let us be," another voice added.
"You all are here as spectators," Xenon responded.
"But…" no one said a word; they returned to their seats.
"You haven't answered my question," he prompted me with an empty voice.
"Because you—"
"Wrong," he cut me off.
He lifted me from the ground with one hand and punched my face with the other. As he readied his fist for another blow, I suspected a feint and moved my head to his left as he headbutted the air, presuming my head would be there when I dodged. I slashed his hand with my rapier and rolled backward.
"Nice try—ahhh!" My shoulder ached as a flame spike penetrated it.
"You bitch—mmm!" It lodged deeper until the pain inhibited my speech.
"Please—ahhhhh!" He appeared before me faster than I could blink, his fiery hand pressed against my chest.
I swung my sword, but he vanished—reappearing ten paces away in a blur of displaced air. My shoulder throbbed as it lost blood slowly. The flame spike was still there; I hadn't even seen when he lodged it. This man was too strong—an aura of power that could probably rival Altera's, though hers had been more regal, almost divine. It had started raining already, the wind's strength multiplying.
"You made me do this," he said, pointing his index finger at me. Ember-like light flared just in front of it as if he were preparing an attack. I tried moving to the side, but the pain in my shoulder didn't permit it. His finger snapped toward me… then shifted minutely, deliberately, aiming past my shoulder—toward the figure beside Tina.
"Where did it go?" I wondered. The answer came immediately: a scream from the gathered people. I saw someone standing next to Tina, white-tinged black hair writhing in pain. He looked familiar—he reminded me of TRISTAN! Ignoring my pain, my rapier fell from my hand as I dashed with all the strength I could manage.
As I got nearer, my suspicion was confirmed. "Tristan!" He now lay on the ground, unmoving. I leaned down and put my ear to his chest; his heartbeat was irregular. His eyes stared in no particular direction. He looked slightly different—his hair, formerly all black, was now tinged with platinum-blonde.
"How…" It must have been an aftereffect of Altera's silver specks when she died. My hands trembled violently as my vision blurred. "Why!" Xenon watched from where he stood, expressionless. My body shook not from pain but from sadness, grief, shock, and anger.
Why was it always Tristan? He wanted me—so why him?
"Xenon," I said plainly, my voice echoing through the arena, anger almost palpable. "You will suffer for what you have done."
I turned to see Alice inspecting Tristan's body, her expression dire. I concentrated all the energy within me, pumping more than was available until my ears rang.
Every fiber screamed in protest: muscles burning like the sun, bones grinding under the strain of power that felt like it was tearing me apart from the inside. This was the cost.
Gritting my teeth, I faced Xenon once more.
"This time you'll die for real."
TINA
As Alice tended to the injured boy at my side, I wondered what went on in Xenon's head. The brown-haired boy was shirtless and soaked with water as the rain poured from the sky. That bastard Xenon—he'd heated the air multiple times; now it was raining. Mages surrounding me used their various affinities to shield themselves, but I didn't—I liked this feeling every now and then.
The brown-haired boy's back faced me as he shouted nonsensical things. "This time, you'll die for real," he said, blinded by rage. His situation was understandable, but still— even a slum boy should know when he's beaten. His countenance was different from the many slum dwellers I'd seen in the past.
The way he spoke and moved…the only thing giving him away were his clothes. He didn't even have his rapier in hand, and yet he said such nonsense. "What do you think?" I asked the girl who had been quiet this whole time. She looked at me, said nothing, and then looked away. I didn't expect a reply anyway.
The brown-haired boy stretched his arm out as if expecting something to enter it. A blink would have been enough to miss what happened next: his rapier—formerly at Xenon's feet—was now in his hand. It was like he'd used an invisible force to call his weapon. Telekinesis? How could a boy with no vaelstrom achieve such a feat?
As I pondered this, he disappeared from my view. He was now behind Xenon, ready to stab his heart. A sword of fire materialized behind him and blocked the boy's attack. Xenon turned swiftly, grabbed the flaming sword, and slashed at the boy. He sidestepped, avoiding the blow.
That was followed by an immediate leg sweep, but Xenon jumped clear. Before his feet could touch the ground, the boy had already adjusted to land a backward kick. Xenon blocked, pushed back slightly, and charged. The boy had only just stood up; it was impossible to avoid the next attack.
The sword of fire stabbed Xenon's stomach; his body tensed. He was done for. I turned to Alice.
"Take that one with you—we're leaving."
She didn't respond; her eyes were fixated on something behind me. I turned to see the sword Xenon had stabbed the boy with now solid silver.
"Had he frozen it?" I thought.
That shouldn't be possible—freezing fire solid, without a vaelstrom to boot. He and Xenon now attacked at high speeds. How could a boy without markings move like that? Their collisions shook the ground and scattered sand. Xenon now had two swords in hand as he collided with the boy.
"Your burst of power seems to have gone to your head," he said as his sword aimed for the boy's neck. Now that was overkill. This move must have been a feint. The boy's crimes were enough for death, yes, but such a method wouldn't suffice. This was crude and unlawful—I know he's crude, but breaking the law? No, no, he could definitely do that.
His blade connected with the boy's neck and he went still. As I readied myself to carry his corpse, the air's temperature dropped rapidly. Slowly, the rain became colder until it hailed. My hairs stood on end, each breath now laboured and stinging cold. The flaming sword I thought had penetrated his neck had only gone in a little before freezing in place.
"If I die, I'll do so of my own will." Ice now rained from the sky and shouts rang out everywhere.
"It's too much…"
"That rag boy?!"
"No vaelstrom…"
"It's literally hail…"
"Quite impressive…"
Could this be the reaction Xenon wanted? It would make sense since he didn't let anyone leave. I turned to see the once nonchalant girl behind me now awestruck.
"I didn't know you could make such an expression," I teased as she looked away. It could be my eyes, but I could almost swear her face flushed.
The boy's speed now doubled, and it seemed his power followed suit. Xenon was pushed back gradually; every sword he made froze almost immediately.
"How could he have this much power?" I recalled the statement he'd made earlier—dying of his own will. Could he be banking his life on this last push?
Sadly, this much wouldn't be nearly enough to—before I could finish that thought, the boy grabbed Xenon's neck. They eyed each other and, in the next instant, he was frozen whole. That move again? No, it seemed he was prepared this time. The brown-haired boy adjusted his stance, his sword aimed at Xenon's neck.
The girl behind me shifted in her seat. It seemed Xenon had been cornered this time.
"I told you I'll kill you," he said, then swung his sword.
Clang.