25 – Names and Offers

The duelling hall was already occupied by second years who appeared to have just finished class.

Since it was right before lunch, a few of them lingered, sitting cross-legged on the floor and having conversations that lowered in volume when Ari walked in.

Professor Graham was talking to a male student, but his eyes strayed toward her.

“Arielle,” he said, and the student turned to watch her approach. “Have you come for extra lessons?”

“No. I was challenged to a duel.”

“By who?”

She pointed behind her to Fiodor, who had followed her in.

When she turned back, Professor Graham’s eyes were glittering as he planted his hand on his waist.

“Ah. It’s Freddie.”

“It’s Fiodor.”

“Of course. Is this who you’ve chosen to duel?”

“Yes,” he said.

Arielle wondered if it was her imagination or if the boy was holding himself a bit more stiffly than he’d been before. His ruffled eyebrows and downturned lips also spoke to a mood change. Was he upset? Perhaps because Graham got his name wrong?

He needn’t be. Graham got almost everyone’s name wrong.

He remembered Arielle’s name, but she was probably just lucky.

“Are you sure about this?” Graham said.

“Yes,” Arielle answered.

“Not you. Fiodor.” Professor Graham cocked his head. “I understand you’re a very skilled young lad, but this might be just slightly above your level.”

“I‘m an Antigones,” Fiodor responded, astonished.

“I get that, but…she’s Arielle Blacksoil.”

Ari nodded because it was true, and that made Fiodor raise his chin and stare down at her from the tip of his nose.

“Yes,” he said frostily. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Graham seemed pleased. “This should be interesting. Clear the circles, you two.”

There were multiple duelling circles in the hall, but Graham seemed to prefer the central one, which currently had students sitting on it. They grumbled and moved at his order, but they didn’t leave the room, standing to watch the fight.

Ari didn’t think she would have an audience, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was the timing. She wanted to stretch the fight out enough so she could utilize an arsenal of spells that she hadn’t had the opportunity to try out yet in combat. However, the battle must only last two minutes or less so that she could keep to her prior appointment at the meditation room.

As they moved, Ari heard the other students’ whispers and comments.

“...He actually remembers her name…”

“...first and last name too...”

“.…He barely remembers anyone’s name, especially first years…”

“...He always remembered Selena...”

Once the circle was devoid of people, Ari tuned out the conversations and started stretching.

“Can I make a request?” she asked as Fiodor moved in place.

“What?

“I would like us to play roles here. You are the offensive, and I am the defensive. Use your strongest attack spells, and I will defend against them.”

Fiodor frowned, and Graham said hesitantly, “I don’t think that’s wise, Arielle. It sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

“It’s okay. I can handle it.”

“You can…” He trailed off, brushing his chin in thought before he shook his head. “No. I would get in trouble for that. You can choose to take any position you want, but normal rules still apply. No excessively damaging spells.”

“But–”

“The answer is no, Arielle.”

She blew out her breath. “Fine, I suppose I’ll just pretend that whatever you’re throwing at me is stronger than it actually is.” She could tell the boy was a Luxa-Massa lean, which was perfect because she wanted to test out her Vacu-Calor spells, to observe how to use them in a real battle to protect Elric.

“Pretend you’re a dragon,” she told Fiodor. “Or an evil legendary mage, and you’re trying to kill my cousin.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Is this a joke to you?”

“No.” Where did he get that idea? “I’m not joking.”

Professor Graham chuckled and said, “Okay, kids, remember the rules. Non-lethal attacks only. Whoever gets their opponent out of the ring wins.”

Ari nodded. Even though Fiodor refused to play along, she did, in fact, imagine him as an evil mage who was hell-bent on destroying Elric. She also imagined she was the only one standing between them.

She readied herself. She didn’t know what spell he was going to cast, but whatever it was, he would not get past her. He would not hurt Elric.

The bell rang, cutting off her thoughts, and Fiodor immediately swung into action.

“[Air Bind].” He thrust his wand at her, and she barely saw the shimmering ropes of air about to wrap around her.

“[Air Shield].” The Tier 3 spell blocked the ropes, and she followed it up with, “[Air Slice].” That last move was likely not necessary, as Fiodor was about to drop his spell anyway, but she didn’t think of him as Fiodor. She thought of him as an evil ascendant who wouldn’t drop the bonds and would not stop until he captured Elric.

“She’s fast,” Ari heard someone say, and she made a mental note to slow her casting speed even more. It was difficult to do in battle, when all thought was attuned to instinct and drive, but she truly had to do a better job at pretending to be normal.

“[Loco Mortis Minor],” Fiodor said, and she was surprised to hear him cast a petrification spell. Curse spells were complex and were, at the very least, at a lower adept tier. It was clever, too, because curse spells would permeate any physical shield and hit the target at the other side.

If Ari were him, the only thing she would have done was to add an extra calor chain at the end for speed. That would have been an easy customization to make, and Ari might not have been able to stop the spell in time if he’d done that.

As it were, she immediately dropped the shield and hit the air with [Bound Curse Break].

She expanded the boundary to just around her, so that any curse that entered the vicinity would be broken for as long as she held the spell.

That stumped Fiodor. He clearly was surprised that she could do that, but she didn’t see why. It wasn’t unusual for apprentices to use lower adept spells.

“Well?” she prompted him because he’d paused to stare at her. “Time’s running out.”

He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and swung his wand again.

“[Light Spear].”

“[Hollow Air].”

“[Misstep Hex Minor].”

“[Deflect Hex Minor].”

“[Swansong].”

“[Bound Mute].”

After the first minute, Arielle was suitably impressed. The boy had well-balanced cores that enabled him to use a variety of spells, even those with essences that weren’t his lean. He was very proficient at curse magic and utilized very interesting spells, which she had to give him credit for. Perhaps that was linked to whatever his bloodline trait was.

However, after Arielle ran through her list of Calor-Vacu defense spells, the exercise became pointless. She was using the same types of defenses over and over because he kept using the same types of attacks, just coming at it from different angles. Ari grew bored, and since she had something else to do, she deflected his final spell and said, “Alright. I think we can stop now.”

“Stop?” Fiodor exhaled harshly, bending slightly before snapping straight once more. “That’s not how a duel works. One of us has to win.”

“Okay then.” She shrugged. “You win.”

***

Graham had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing and hurting poor Fiodor’s feelings.

It was obvious to anyone watching–including the second years who had stopped their discussions to observe the duel–that Ari far outpaced the other boy in every way. He’d used an impressive index of spells for a first year, but she’d deflected all of them without a single thought. He was panting for breath, and her breathing had not once ever become elevated. She was far beyond his level, and it was almost embarrassing to have Fiodor continue at this point, although his pride wouldn’t let him give up. Her stopping was a mercy to him.

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“Okay, I have to go now,” she told him, pivoting to walk away.

Fiodor yelled, “[Light Web].”

Graham was surprised to see Fiodor activate one of his bloodline spells. Streaks of light shot out of the end of his wand, interconnecting as they attached to Ari’s back.

She glanced behind her, studying the lines dispassionately.

“You’re not leaving until I say you can,” Fiodor injected as much command as he could into his tone.

“Yes, I am.” She held up her wand. “Air Slice.”

“That won’t work,” Fiodor mocked. “The bonds are made of pure Antigones light. Practically unbreakable. Air alone wouldn’t be enough to slice it.”

Graham thought it would be this very moment that everything turned around. The danger of the Antigones [Light Web] wasn’t just that it couldn’t be broken, but that other spells could be passed directly through it, to essentially guarantee a direct hit.

Arielle was in serious trouble.

This might be the point where she lost, although it was still very impressive that she’d pushed him this far and made him activate his bloodline trait.

Arielle studied the webs. “Interesting.”

Fiodor gave her a smug smile. “Now, where were we?”

After a few more seconds of studying the strands, she waved her wand and said again, “[Air Slice].”

Fiodor rolled his eyes. “I already told you. That won’t–”

The crack came first, followed by a hollow swish.

A slash of air resonated, slicing through the light web and turning it into nothing but weak threads floating to the ground.

Fiodor’s jaw dropped.

Graham couldn’t pick his off the ground either.

The room was tight with the thick silence of the combined held breaths and disbelief.

Arielle didn’t seem to notice or care.

She dusted stray strands of light from her robe.

“Thank you for the exercise,” she told him. “This was fun. We should do it again some other time when you have more varied attacks in your arsenal.”

With that distracted, yet effortlessly insulting speech, she went on her way.

It took Graham some time to get his senses back.

He’d only seen an Antigones [Light Web] broken three times in his entire life, and never by [Air Slice]. Typically, it required a very specific orientation of Vacu essences, which very few people could manage.

Yet Arielle had done it with [Air Slice] of all things.

[Air Slice]?