Chapter Ten
"Hey Aria," Alex whispers as we walk up the stairs behind the rest of the group. "You okay? I mean, you didn't practice weapons with us yesterday or today…"
"I'm fine," I say quickly, giving him a short smile. "I just uh, would prefer to keep my weapon a secret. You know, any advantage I can get and all that."
"Oh yeah, sure," He nods back, pulling back his hair. "You want some information on what the others are using then?"
I look around as we continue climbing the ridiculously long staircase to the surface. Everyone else seems to be whispering to each other, and we still have quite a way to go before we reach the dueling arena.
I nod at him quickly, and he gives me a devious smile, leaning in closer and dropping his voice.
"Alright, so the twins use what you would expect. Elizabeth has two short swords and wields one underhanded, while Edward uses a boring old one and a half handed sword. Cody uses daggers, and I counted at least three different kinds on him, including a few throwing ones. Jackson has an odd looking spear with a single edged blade at the end. It was called, uhh…"
"A glaive?" I ask quietly, and he nods.
"Yeah, I think so. Anyway, Devon has some interesting daggers, but none of them look like they are for throwing, so be on the lookout for that. Seth uses an axe with a really nasty and big axehead, and he looks pretty confident with it. Molly wasn't there, but I think she had a quarterstaff of some sort, and I, of course, use a giant shield and sword."
"Was Xander there practicing with his… experiment?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.
"No, sadly. Looks like we'll have to wait to see how that one works out."
We reach the academy entrance and push open the door, walking out into the bleak, cloudy day. It had been drizzling rain while we ran earlier which had made the ground a little tricky, but now the rain seems to have stopped. Our sublevel walks around the academy, and we are greeted by the sight of dozens of soldiers eagerly talking to each other in the spectator stands.
Most of the soldiers wear regular black cloaks to ward off any rain, but I still spot a few of the embroidered red battle mages in the crowd as well as small groups of the mysterious scarlet cloaks. The increase in soldiers must be from the caravan, and the extra eyes make me feel jittery.
I hear a cold, echoing laugh amongst the din of the crowd, and I see Sadon laughing with a few soldiers standing along the length of the arena. He has his trademark predator smile, and he glances over at us and says something quickly to the soldiers before he starts walking over to us.
"Anyone else notice today went really fast?" Alex whispers as we form a line facing the arena.
"Yeah," Xander agrees. "It was kind of hard to focus on creating shells and practicing with our weapons when we have two separate duels we have to do. Back to back. You know, no big deal."
"It's fine," Molly says, nodding too quickly. "I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Yeah," Xander says, nodding quickly. "I'm sure getting stabbed can't feel that bad.
"Just try to focus on this fight right now," I say. even though I feel nauseous about the weapons duel myself.
Everyone falls quiet as Sadon reaches us and slowly starts pacing back and forth, looking us all over. We stand absolutely still in our line, facing him and the raised platform which we will fight on for our third time. The metal studs along his jaw look darker in the clouded weather and make him look older, crueler.
"Well," Sadon says finally, stopping in the middle of us. "I hope I get to see some fights as… interesting as the last time."
He smiles at me chillingly, and I look at the ground.
"So, if any of you would like to issue challenges, then do so now," he says with a quick step backward.
I hold my breath. What's their strategy this time? Before, they tried to trick me into fighting Cody, but they hadn't expected me to be willing to take on Edward. So what was their plan now? Even with my three declines, I still had to fight one of them. That, or I would be facing one of my allies, which could prove just as bad if it were Seth or Alex.
Last time I had only injured my shoulder, so I stayed to watch the rest of the fights. Alex and Seth in particular had impressive fights, and I doubt I could beat them without getting really lucky or sustaining an incredibly bad injury myself. Besides those two though, the only person that really scared me was-
Elizabeth steps forward, and I feel my heart drop.
Here we go.
"I challenge Molly," she declares loudly, folding her arms.
I look at Molly in surprise, but she looks just as stunned as I do. She blinks her eyes a few times before she realizes we're all looking at her.
"Oh, um, I accept?" Molly says, looking around in confusion.
"Alright then," Sadon says, eyebrows raised. "Get in the ring."
Both of them step up onto the platform, and Elizabeth elects to move to the far end, walking with determined confidence while I look at Alex in confusion. He looks back at me just as confused though, and gives a pantomimed shrug, shaking his head. I bite my lip and turn back to the ring as the magic wall goes up, briefly flashing into existence before disappearing.
Last time I fought, I was able to stay and watch the rest of the duels through the residual pain in my shoulder. Molly had dueled against Devon, and it had actually been a very impressive display. Devon had been all about fast moves and vicious strikes but had seemed uncomfortable with his fighting. I guess that made sense, considering he said he was a thief back in Noxus.
Molly on the other hand… well…
Sadon's count reaches zero, and my eyes snap to the fight.
They both approach the middle of the ring slowly, and Elizabeth raises her fists so they are level with her head, stopping just short of the middle. Molly on the other hand, reaches her side after taking slow, graceful steps, her hands loose and arms at her sides.
Elizabeth takes a step forward and slightly to Molly's right, and Molly counters by taking a step to her left and forward. They continue doing that for a few tense seconds, circling the middle of the arena until they have switched sides completely. The crowd is completely silent in anticipation except for some whispers. I nervously lick my lips, and then I spot Molly's eyes as she stops shifting her position.
Her normal, cheery look full of energy is gone, replaced with a completely blank look, her mouth slightly open and eyes flickering at seemingly nothing.
I feel myself relax slightly and take a shaky breath. Molly has the same look she had when she was fighting Devon, and no one had expected… well, everything about that duel, really.
Elizabeth rushes forward and launches a barrage of quick punches at Molly's head, and I feel my stomach drop as she stumbles back under the assault, her arms blurring in a desperate attempt to intercept at least some of the hits.
Elizabeth backs off after almost a dozen punches and frowns as the crowd roars in approval at the sudden violence. Molly seems to have blocked most of the punches somehow, as her face is unbloodied, but her face is red from exertion.
Elizabeth retreats a few more steps and looks at her arms with a frown, and then she shakes them out. I squint at her forearms, and I can barely make out red marks forming. Elizabeth looks back at Molly, and then gives a slight tilt of her head. Molly remains looking completely unfocused, her breathing back under control.
Elizabeth approaches Molly slowly like she did before and then throws out a few hard, curving punches, but she does it slower than the other ones. Molly frowns and dodges out of the way by taking sweeping steps backwards and to the side.
"She's trying to figure out how Molly's blocking the attacks and still hurting her arms," Alex whispers to me, and I nod in agreement.
Elizabeth looks annoyed at Molly's dodges and speeds up her punches slightly. Molly doesn't manage to step out of range in time, and I see both her hand blur into motion. Her forearm catches Elizabeth's punch, and then her other hand snakes out and hits Elizabeth with her palm as she retracts her punch.
Elizabeth lets out a hiss and repeats the punches a few times, and Molly blocks each of them in turn, moving with a lazy grace. She tries a kick, but Molly simply steps into Elizabeth's range and pushes her leg away before stepping back out.
Elizabeth backs off, shaking her head, and I see her shake her head angrily as she rubs her forearms.
"And here was I, thinking you were using a legitimate way of fighting," I hear Elizabeth say, her blue eyes icy. "I should of known you were just a coward after all, even if I have never heard of your third rate diplomat family."
Molly gives no indication of even hearing her, and Elizabeth raises her fists back up with a sneer. She starts approaching Elizabeth again, even slower than before, and I chance a glance at Alex.
"What does she mean legitimate way of fighting?" I ask quietly, and he shrugs in indifference.
"Molly's using a defensive martial art of some sort, which isn't uncommon exactly, but because it has no offensive abilities, it's considered cowardly."
I look back to the fight with a little annoyance. Typical. Who would have guessed Noxians would get frustrated at actual strategy instead of just using brute force.
Elizabeth rushes towards Molly and tries to grab her, but Molly pushes her away, quickly hitting Elizabeth in the side before stepping away. Elizabeth doesn't let up though, and does a quick spinning kick that Molly barely ducks under before Elizabeth launches into an all out assault.
I can barely follow the motions at first, but my eyes slowly adjust to the almost rhythmic pattern of the fight as Elizabeth continues her flurry, trying to beat Molly's impenetrable defense. Elizabeth's attacks are all quick and violent, each continues attack flowing into the next fluidly. Molly's defense looks completely opposite, her hand she uses to defend with moving with lazy grace while her counterattacking hand moves quickly in sharp, geometric motions. Somehow Molly's lazy defense and precise strikes occur fast enough to take advantage of Elizabeth's offense before returning to a neutral defense.
I get lost in the art of Molly's defense, the linear motions of her slaps and jabs forming a weird, unseeable pattern. I also notice that each of Molly's counter strikes only hit in certain spots, and while none of them seem to carry much weight, she manages to hit her over and over and over again.
They break apart briefly, Elizabeth's face tense and jaw clenched in pain, and Molly breathing heavily with sweat shining on her face. She is breathing heavy, and I feel my heart drop as I realize that she's probably exhausted from running and having to train in summoning magic. Elizabeth is in much better shape than her and is obviously less tired from the day.
I see a flicker of doubt in Molly's features as she blinks a few times, and Elizabeth gives a pained smile as she rushes back in, renewing her onslaught. Molly manages to keep up for a few seconds with their deadly dance, and then her speed falters for a second, and Elizabeth's hand flashes out, delivering a quick hit to Molly's nose.
Her head rocks back slightly, scarlet now smearing her face, but she moves in a quick counter, hitting Elizabeth in her stomach with three quick strikes. Elizabeth gasps in pain and arches a kick that knocks Molly to the side. She tries to recover, but Elizabeth is on her, forcing her to switch back to her defense.
Her defense starts getting slower and slower, and triumph flashes across Elizabeth's tense, pained face. She reinvigorates her attacks, and Molly starts gasping for breath.
Molly seems to miss another motion, and Elizabeth punches at her head with a cruel punch. Molly dips under her fist by a hair and then rushes past Elizabeth's side, delivering two quick punches as she goes by.
Elizabeth gasps in pain and swings both her hands in a giant fist, hitting Molly's head before she gets out of range. Molly tumbles away from the force of the blow, her body loose like a ragdoll.
The crowd goes silent as the action stops, Elizabeth falling to all fours and breathing in painful gasps while Molly lays lifeless a few feet away. I stare at her still form, my fingernails clenched into my palms, not breathing
Stand up Molly. Come on, just stand up.
Sadon slowly starts approaching the arena.
Stand up!
He reaches out a hand towards the barrier.
And then Molly's body twitches, and then she's coughing, slowly rising to her feet on shaky legs.
The crowd goes wild as Molly stands back up, facing Elizabeth who has a look of disbelief on her face. Molly looks dizzy, and she takes a few uncertain steps to find her balance. Elizabeth tries to rise, but doubles over in pain, her eyes watery.
Sadon touches the barrier, and it falls with a soft hum. He walks onto the platform, stepping in between Molly and Elizabeth, looking impressed.
"Well, well, wasn't that interesting," he says, clapping softly, his voice barely audible over the chatter of the crowd. "I think it's safe to say both of you are at your limit, no? So if you both are willing to concede this is a tie, and no one gets points…"
His voice trails off, and Molly nods her head softly. Elizabeth looks up at him, a flash of anger in her eyes, but she must see something in his face because the next thing I see is her nodding her head in quiet acceptance.
"Good. I'm glad at least some people here can recognize strength."
Molly slowly makes her way off the arena over to us, her path wobbly and curved. Xander is waiting for her at the edge and offers her a hand to help her down. She gives a weak smile, and it looks grisly beneath the blood from her nose. I try not to wince as she takes Xanders hand and steps down, walking over to us with her smile.
"That was amazing," I say, giving her a reassuring smile.
"T-thanks," she says with a jerky nod. "I think I might be a little dizzy though."
"Well, a hit to the head that hard will do that to you," Xander chuckles, patting her on the shoulder.
"I got hit on the head?" she frowns, looking at us in confusion.
By now, Elizabeth has shuffled her way back over to us, refusing her brother's help to jump down from the stage. She sits down on the ground and groans, the mud squelches up around her. I look at her curiously.
Why did she challenge Molly in the first place? I mean, everyone but Edward saw her fight with Devon last time, and she even managed to tie with him too. So what's the point of switching focus from me to them? Is it to make me feel bad?
"So, who's next?" Sadon asks, and I twitch in surprise at his sudden appearance next to us.
No one moves for a moment, and then Cody steps forward, and I feel my breath catch.
"I challenge Xander," he says, his smiling cruelly at him.
"Decline," Xander says pointedly, his expression flat. "What, you seriously expected me to accept that?'
"No, of course not," Cody says, still smiling.
Xander frowns, and I find myself looking at him.
What are they up to?
"I challenge Xander," Edward says smugly, and Xander's eyes glimmer.
"Not ideal, but sure," Xander responds with a shrug. "I accept."
They walk up to the arena, and as Sadon begins the countdown for the match, I risk a glance at the other nobles. Each of them has a carefully blank expression on their face except for Elizabeth who is grimacing in pain. Jackson glances over at me, but his hazel eyes betray nothing. I look back over to the fight as it begins.
It doesn't take long. I get that Xander accepted the challenge because of the people remaining he had the best chance of beating Edward due to his previous injuries, but it still goes very badly. It's painfully obvious that Xander has no idea how to fight hand-to-hand, and Edward seems to have recovered from my win as he only favors his leg slightly. After a few short bouts, Xander is left plastered on ground, groaning in pain, and Edward is walking away with a cheery smile.
Sadon lets the field fall as Edward leaves, and Molly rushes to help Xander groggily get up. Edward knocked him down with a heavy hit to his head after a long and vicious beatdown, obviously toying with the Zaunite. So much for Noxus and Zaun getting along, I guess.
"Not ideal, huh? I'm not even sweating," Edward says after combing his fingers through his combed blond hair, and his blue eyes flash as the other nobles chuckle lightly.
I clench my fists as Molly sets Xander down on the ground, his eye already swollen shut from his pounding. I watch as Sadon comes back over to us sleepily, like the entire event bored him.
"Next?" he asks plainly, his green eyes slithering over the rest of us like livestock.
I hear chuckling, and I look over to see Cody trying not to laugh as he looks at us.
"What? Haven't figured it out yet?" he asks, a huge grin on his face. "Maybe this next one will help you figure it out.
Cody's sickly yellow eyes shine at me, and I feel my heart freeze as a nagging suspicion forms in my mind. I slowly look at the people who haven't dueled yet, and realization hits me as I finally understand their plan.
Cody and Jackson may be the only nobles left, but I could also end up randomly dueling Devon, Seth, or Alex if neither challenges me or I decline them both. The only person who I might be able to beat is Devon, and maybe I could tie with Alex, but other than those two, I would get beat.
Jackson steps forward slowly, and I look between his stoic form and Cody's blazing grin, my eyes widening. Jackson's going to challenge Devon, and then I will have a chance of randomly dueling Cody. Even if I got lucky and didn't face him, they've now reduced my chance of winning to absolutely zero.
My heart freezes as Jackson opens his mouth, and I feel my breath catch in my throat.
"I challenge Cody," Alex says loudly, and I turn to him in surprise. "That is, unless you're too scared."
Cody clenches his fists, and I feel my breath come back to me.
"Fine, delay the inevitable. I accept"
I smile at Alex and nod at him in silent thankfulness, and he gives a quick wink as he jumps onto the dueling arena. I watch him as he walks to the far end, my heart pounding harder and harder in my chest. Something hits on my nose, and I wipe it away, looking at my hand.
Rain.
I try to pay attention as the duel begins, but I just end up shutting my eyes after a few seconds, listening to the pitter patter of my heart, the rain, and the ringing in my ears. A wave of tiredness hits me along with nausea as I realize that unless I end up dueling Devon, I'm going to only have two points left. Jackson and Seth would both beat me, no contest. I only have two duels left then. Maybe not even that many if the next one goes badly.
I hear a strangled shout of frustration, and my eyes snap open. I wipe away a few stray raindrops from my face in time to see Alex swat and dodge another of Cody's attacks. As far as I can tell, he's been playing with Cody the whole duel, electing to make him angry instead of focusing on beating him. I don't know if it's because he doesn't think he can beat Cody without taking risks, or if it's just because he's as fed up with Cody as I am.
Either way, I smile sadly as I watch Alex waste away the time, whispering quiet insults and jeers, or, at least, that's what I assume he's doing because of the crowd's laughter. Judging by Cody's wild look from his wet brown hair and red face, Alex must have hit a few nerves.
The duel ends all too fast. Both of them are barely standing and gasping for breath as they were forced to exchange blows which didn't go well for either one. Sadon touches the barrier with a look of disappointment, and both end up conceding to a tie.
No points lost. No points gained. No progress made.
Just another stalemate. Another occupation. Another game.
I don't realize the two of them have made it back to the rest of us until Sadon stops in front of me, and I slowly look up at him as the rain starts coming down regularly.
"Well," he says, his eyes shining emerald in the dark weather. "Looks like you're up then, unless someone else wants to duel."
No one says anything, and I don't bother getting my hopes up as he reaches into the pocket of his robe and pulls out a simple wooden die.
"One or two and you face Devon. Three or four will be Seth, and five or six will be Jackson."
He walks over to the platform, and lets the die drop.
It falls, bouncing on the smooth padded material on the top of the platform, and after a few moments, lands and begins spinning on one of its edges. I feel something at the edge of my senses, almost like a slight breeze prickling the hair on the back of my neck, and the dice falls onto its face, the number six facing up.
My eyes widen, and I feel like screaming in frustration as Sadon silently picks up the dice and shows it to me, a fatal smile on his lips. That sensation, the almost imperceptible tingling, was of someone using magic. Someone, maybe even Sadon, used magic to make sure I would face Jackson. Who would believe me though if I said anything, especially if it was Sadon?
They have me.
I clench my fists and walk onto the platform, going all the way to the far end as the rain begins soaking my clothes. I spin on my heel, set my jaw, and get into my fighting stance, staring down Jackson as the barrier goes up.
Ten seconds until we face each other. I need a plan. He's bigger, taller, fights as well as a soldier, and is insanely strong. He hasn't even bothered getting into position yet.
Seven seconds.
The crowd cheering at us unnerves me, especially because of how many shouts I hear for Jackson.
Five seconds.
My stomach drops. I'm going to lose. I'm going to lose and they are going to kick me out. This academy wasn't different, and even though I figured that out, it must have been too late because I'm still going to lose to Noxians. Again.
Two seconds.
No. I have to try. I have the speed. If I can play cat and mouse long enough, I can at least force a tie and-
"Zero," Sadon's voice rings out, his spiked black hair now plastered flat by the rain and giving him an animalistic look.
I sprint towards Jackson. No time to think in this fight. I just need to rely on instinct.
My stomach drops, and everything slows down as I see him start walking towards me. Just walking. His steps are slow but purposeful and confident. His arms aren't even raised in a fighting stance. The worst part is his face. He isn't smiling, in fact, he has a completely blank look on his face like this is just an everyday occurrence. His eyes don't burn with hatred. They just look amused.
He's bigger, stronger, and trained to be an absolute monster at combat. And I'm running right towards him.
I let out a silent scream, clenching my teeth, and dodge left and right before I reach him to juke him out, and then I duck to the left again as his arms grasp out at me. I shove my elbow in front of me, striking his stomach, and I use my momentum and entire weight to push him for a few steps to force him backwards before I spin to the left, letting my momentum take me away from him.
It takes me a second to regain my bearings from the dizzyingly quick spin, and I see Jackson is only beginning to stand straight from my shove, facing away from me I run at him from his right and put the weight onto my left knee as I bend low into an arching right kick into the same spot I hit before.
Jackson stumbles backwards a single step from the blow and turns to face me, but I'm already on the move, running towards him and hitting him with a quick thrust from my left knee, once again in the same spot. He only bends over slightly from the blow, letting out a gruff breath, but I take the moment turn my back to him, sliding to the right at the same time and delivering a backwards elbow to the same spot as every other hit.
I run away and whip around after I'm sure I've made a good distance, squinting my eyes against the rain.
Jackson, who just got hit in the gut four times in the exact same spot with all the force I could muster, stands on both his feet, slightly bent over. The crowd roars in excitement, and for a moment, I feel a flutter of hope wash through me, making me feel lighter.
Then Jackson slowly straightens himself and looks at me, his face still completely passive, and my hope shatters. It leaves behind the aching of my muscles, and I realize in horror that every part of my body that I hit him with is sore from simply striking him.
The monster Jackson resumes his walk towards me, and the crowd redubles their cheering. I try to furiously think of a new plan as the distance draws closer. No, I can't be wasting time, I just have to use my instincts.
I rush at him once again, juking right and left before I reach him, almost exactly like I did before, and he punches towards the right, assuming I'm using the same strategy of triple dodging. I don't dodge again though, and I punch him in the side with the heel of my hand, striking his left gut again.
I quick stop right as I get past him and push off, taking a step right back at him just as he is turning to face me. Because he already punched to his left, he continues turning that way, and I manage to get behind him as he faces where I would have been if I continued running. I put my weight on my left foot and spin with all my strength and speed, swinging my right foot into his exposed back.
It connects, and I feel pain flash through my toes as he stumbles forwards. I regain my balance and take a skipping step back. My breaths come out in swift, ragged gasps, and my lungs burn from exertion. My heart pounds hard enough that I can feel it in my ears, and I stare at Jackson's bent over form.
Just fall. Come on. Please, just fall.
He rises again, completely unphased from my attacks. I let out an angry cry filled with my fear as I rush at him again, half blinded my rain. I let out a shrill shout as I throw my best punch, twisting my body into it and throwing my terror and pain into one strike.
I hit him in the left gut, in the same spot as almost every single other hit.
I remain still, my fist buried into the hunched form of Jackson as exhaustion washes over me with the light rain, the roars of the crowd distant and seemingly unimportant. The two strands of hair I usually let hang from my ponytail stick to my face on either side, and I stare at the top of Jackson head. For a second, neither of us move.
Then the monster looks up at me with glacial slowness, revealing the amusement in his eyes and his completely stoic face.
I try to jump back as panic seizes my heart, but an iron grip settles on my right arm, and I realize Jackson must have grabbed me when I punched him. I let out a panicked cry as I punch him with my left hand, and he responds with a simple knee to my stomach, forcing a gasp of breath from me. He grabs my neck with his right hand and I feel him start walking, dragging me in front of him.
I try to claw open his hand, but it feels like slippery stone, his grip tight as steel. I kick at his legs a few times to try and trip him, but he completely ignores hit. I feel my back suddenly hit the barrier, and he adjusts his grip, putting his massive hand around my neck so his thumb hooks under my chin at my neck.
Then he starts choking me. I didn't realize he was simply dragging me forward until now, when his hand begins to crush my windpipe, and I start choking halfway through my last breath. I hit his arm and try a few kicks, but he just grunts and shrugs them all off as the pressure begins to build in my head.
I try to think of something, anything, but the only thing I can focus on his his eyes, now cold and empty, like I'm just some distasteful chore he has to take care of. I kick him in the side and for a second, the pressure lessons slightly, and I wheeze in a fraction of air.
Then he lifts me up against the wall with his grip, my back sliding up until my toes are off the ground, and then he keeps me there. With one arm.
Monster. He's a freaking monster. It's the only thing that I can think as my vision gets hazy, and my muscles become weaker. My punches turn to slaps at his arm, but his bulging muscles show no sign of surrendering. My vision turns red as the pressure in my head reaches an all time high, each pounding pulse of pain sending spikes directly into my brain. I don't have the energy to punch anymore, so I just rest my hands on his wrist, trying in vain to pry his fingers off. Stars and shadows cover my vision as my lungs, neck, and head burn.
I feel my arms go limp, my hands falling from his grip and to my sides as the pressure becomes everything to me. Then I feel one last burst of pain split my consciousness into shards, and I blissfully lose everything.
The next thing I feel is something wet splashing against my face and into my nose, and for a second, I feel like I'm drowning. I sputter, desperately trying to take in a breath, and I instantly regret my decision as the very air slices my windpipe and lungs. I try to move my arms to scratch at my neck, but they feel heavy and only twitch in response, my legs jerking similarly at the sudden pain. I struggle and manage to flicker open my eyes only to be greeted by swirling shadows and glimmering lights.
"Easy now," a soft voice says as I cough and rasp in wheezing breaths that bring tears to my eyes from the sheer pain and effort. "You're okay. Just breathe. I know it hurts, but breathe."
I try to do as the woman's voice says, but it hurts. Every rasp feels like glass in my lungs. I do it anyway, forcing in the air and blinking away the tears as my vision slowly begins to return.
It takes me a few sluggish seconds to realize I'm laying on the ground, the back of my body soaked with mud. Jackson must have just dropped me after the barrier fell. My head feels like it's raised slightly though, and I realize I'm laying on someone's lap, looking up at them.
The dark clouds and soft, scarlet cloak prevent me from seeing into the hood as it peers down at me, but I manage to make out light brown eyes looking down at me. I stare back up into them, focusing on nothing else as I begin to feel my body again. At first, her eyes look serene, like a untouched pond, but the more I look, the more I begin to realize they aren't serene at all.
They're haunted.
She looks away from me, and I briefly look into her hood only to see that she is wearing a scarf covering the entirety of her face. I hear the sploshing of footsteps in mud and follow her upturned gaze as Molly arrives, blood smeared across her face in a hasty attempt to clean up. I see tears running down her face, and she sniffs a few times as she wipes them away, falling on her knees next to me.
I stare at her, and she just looks back at me, blue eyes filled with compassion, filled with pity.
I groan, and the effort bring more tears to my own eyes. I ignore them, along with the pain, and roll over to my side opposite of Molly, propping my arm against the ground to prevent me from falling off the woman's lap into the mud. It sinks in, and I slowly use my other hand to push myself up onto my forearms and knees.
"Here," Molly says, her voice quivering. "Take my hand."
I look to my right, at the woman sitting on her calves and Molly standing next to me, offering her hand. The noise of the crowd is back to its usual low roar from all the talking. This is nothing special to them, just the result of a well played game. This is nothing.
I push myself up, not taking Molly's hand, and slowly stand, my chest tight and burning in the damp rain. Molly gives a wavering smile at me and nods, wiping away more tears or rain, and turns away, walking slowly towards the rest of the group. She looks back after a few steps, her eyes shining.
"Come on," she whispers, her voice broken. "Let's find you a dry place to sit."
I walk to follow her, and the woman stand as I begin to pass her. I look at her, the crimson hood once again now shrouding her features.
"Th… thank you," I rasp, my voice gravel as the air shreds my lungs.
The woman simply nods at me, and then walks back up to the stands. I turn away and go back with Molly.
I fell on one of the longer sides of the rectangular arena, on one of the sides with the stands a few feet away, and it takes a minute to get back to everyone else. The rain starts sputtering out as we make it back, lowering to a constant, misting level. It feels cool in the musty air, and I shiver, looking at the ground as I trudge back into line, ignoring the two vastly different looks I get.
I barely register the next duel starting as I stare at the mud at my feet. My hands shake, probably from the rain, and I shove them tiredly into my jacket's pockets. Yeah, it's because of the rain. That's it.
I hear a sound, and I look to the right from the corner of my eye. Xander lays flat against the ground, looking at the sky with fierce eyes, gnashing his teeth like he's in pain or about to shout. His eyes flick over to me, and he must see my look because he squeezes his eyes shut quickly and throws his arm over his eyes.
I blink. Is he upset because of what happened to me? Was the fight really that brutal?
I look from Xander's form to Molly, and I see her wavering on her feet, staring at the fight while also sneaking quick, covert glances at me. She sniffs and wipes at her eyes and nose every once and awhile.
I slide my eyes to Alex, but instead of seeing someone clearly upset, he just stands completely still, looking down at the ground with his long hair covering his face from my view. As I peer closer though, I notice his fists are clenched, and he shakes slightly, almost imperceptibly. Quiet, perfectly controlled hate radiates from his motionless form, and I blink a few times as my eyes water.
Just how brutal was my fight for them to be this upset? I imagine watching it from their view, as I sprint and dodge and hit Jackson over and over again. I imagine watching him grab me by the throat and lift me against the invisible barrier, my struggling slowly stopping as my form goes limp. Then I imagine him letting me fall to the mud as Sadon lowers the barrier, like a piece of trash.
I shudder and nausea threatens to overtake me, but I force myself to choke down a breath of aching air. I work up the courage and look back up at the arena as Seth and Devon fight, desperately trying not to glance at the nobles to my left. I let my eyes follow the two of them, analyzing their movements.
They fight with two drastically different styles. Even though Seth is practiced and calculated, Devon's clumsy but quick moves manage to always trade even or close to it. Seth continues fighting though, using determination instead of brute force like… some people. Seth's average height and strength make him look like an average soldier, and he fights the same way, with brutal strikes and quick grapples. Devon still manages to slip and strike inch for inch though, and the fight drags on.
After an eternity, Sadon drops the barrier and asks the both of them if they will consider a tie. By now, it's obvious that Seth could eventually take Devon down, but Devon's impressive defense and last second maneuvers deserve some sort of compensation. They both agree, and Sadon walks with them back towards us, looking satisfied. The rain has slowed to a dribble, but the overcast sky looks like it could start again at any time.
"All of you report to the training room," Sadon says once he reaches us, "the private one in the back, where you practice magic."
I turn to trudge away, but I see Fairfax standing there, behind us. He is completely still, watching us behind his plain features. I wonder how long he was watching.
"Grab your weapons from your rooms on the way," Fairfax says blandly, turning crisply and walking back towards the academy.
The nobles follow him immediately, but I remain rooted in spot for a moment as anger spills from me. All's he ever does is watch and then walk away. When is he going to realize that that's the root of his problem. He never intervenes until it's too late. Ever.
I walk quickly into the academy and down to my room, my sore, aching body protesting all the way. The stairs don't help, especially considering I was just choked half to death, but I manage them, feeling more and more bitter the whole way down.
I walk into my room, and I see an envelope on my desk with my name on it. I ignore it and go into my closet where I put my sword, and I take it, not even stopping to change out of my muddy clothes as I go to the training room.
I walk into the circular training room, the one that leads to the ten private training rooms where everyone was tested on their arrival. Instead of being empty like I remember it, two heavy, wooden reclining chairs are set up in the middle of the room with a metal bucket next to each. Fairfax and Dumont stand near a small table with a viewing orb resting on it. I wait silently as everyone else files in with their respective weapons.
My bitterness is gone now, leaving me just feeling tired, wet, and dirty. The constant pain of simply breathing threatens to bring me to tears, but I just stare at stone floor, letting the hollowness inside consume me.
"Alright," Fairfax says, and I look up, my eyes heavy. "A reminder of how this will work. You will be dueling to the death with your weapons. Magic is still forbidden, and you will find that you can't use it in the Aether field we have set up, just like in the dueling arena. You can challenge people, and you also can decline. This counts as one of your three declines you start with, of course, and you get another decline each week with a maximum of three. Questions?"
I hadn't realized that I couldn't even call up magic in the dueling arena, but I guess that makes sense. I just always assumed because magic took willpower and concentration to take effect, I was always in too much pain to put together a coherent spell. Actually, it was probably a combination of both that kept me from using magic purposefully or accidentally in a panic.
"Alright then," Fairfax says, his brown eyes looking us over in the silence. "Are there any challenges?"
Edward steps forward, a big smile on his face.
"I challenge-" he begins, talking slowly and savoring the building tension.
"Edward!" Xander shouts suddenly, startling everyone. "I challenge you Edward, you disgusting coward!"
I look over at Xander in surprise along with everyone else. He stands there, teeth bared wildly under his wet hair. He has a copper yellow and orange colored metal gauntlet on his left hand and a matching broadsword in his right, both with valves and rust colored gears. The broadsword appears serrated, as it has sharp, curved protrusions along the edge of the sword. The smaller blades curl up on one side and down on the other, following the entire length of the blade.
His wide green eyes and mismatched weapons make him look completely unstable, and even Edward takes a second to respond.
"Disgusting coward?" he says, shifting from a surprised expression to an angry one. "Alright, Zaunite, you die first. I accept."
"Both of you settle down," Dumont says, his words falling flat. "Each of you lay down in a chair and then summon your shell with any armor or weapons you want. The chairs have the summoning spell worked into them and are connected to the arena."
They both lay down in the reclined chairs facing each other, setting down their weapons against their chairs as they do, and then they close their eyes. We wait for a few minutes until both open their eyes, and then Dumont nods.
"Alright then. Now I will proceed to connect both of your consciousnesses into your shells. Do not begin fighting until you hear me instruct you. We will be watching your fight on the viewing orb set up over there."
He moves in between them and reaches out a palm to face either one before he hesitates, looking at both of them.
"Please remember, these are just shells. You will not be killing an actual person, and you consciousness will snap back to your body when you shell is destroyed. This academy is set up with a Nexus shard to make sure of that."
And with that, he raises his palms and whispers a word. I feel a sharp snap of energy, and blue runes light up on the chair's woodwork. Sadon lets out a sigh, turns towards the viewing orb, and snaps his fingers, causing the orb to jump into the air and flash a screen into existence.
The spell shows Xander and Edward standing in a flat, grassy clearing. The clearing is spacious, even larger than the dueling arena, but a circle of weird looking trees and rocks do act as an eventual barrier, the tree's branches and leaves interwoven so tightly that they can't be seen through.
The first person I notice is Edward. He stands in the clearing wearing dark brown clothes akin to a ranger or forest fighter. Deep red embroidery is sewn across the entirety of his loose cloth and leather clothes, somehow providing intricacy to an otherwise plain and lightweight armor choice. He holds a one-and-a-half handed sword, swinging it in circles at his side as he shakes his head at Xader.
Xander looks… drastically different than Edward. He wears what looks like a scientist's lab coat, except it is copper and brass colored like his sword and gauntlet, and it has random pieces of metal, pipes, tubes, and gears on it. Heavy metal boots of the same style poke out from underneath his garment, heavy brass goggles complete his insane look.
"Call me the steampunk scientist," Xander says, his voice coming out crazed but clear.
Edward just gives him a weird look and keeps swinging his sword.
"I will now begin the ten second countdown," Dumont says in our room, and his voice echoes in the arena. "Begin on zero."
"Hey Edward," Xander says as the countdown begins, raising his serrated broadsword and pointing it at him. "Did you know that this shell is in perfect condition, so you won't have any advantage of wounds you caused on me."
"Like I need any to take you on," Edward laughs, and I notice even his shell has perfectly combed hair.
"You know what?" Xander asks quietly, his goggles looking down to the earth. "You Noxians take everything too far. I think it's time you paid for that."
My heart skips a beat at Xander's words, but Edward just laughs more and grabs his sword in both hands as the countdown reaches five.
"Alright then, tell you what," Edward says. "Take out all your anger on me. Do it. I dare you. I'll block anything you throw at me, and when you get tired, I'm going to make you suffer. You want to be on the Ionian's side so bad? Then you can suffer like her."
The count reaches zero, but neither one moves. Edward stays in his defensive position, and Xander stays with his blade pointed at him, eyes looking at the ground.
"You coming, or what?" Edward asks, baring his teeth.
"Before I do, I've been meaning to ask you something," Xander says, raising his head to stare down the length of his blade at him.
"I've been trying to come up with a nickname to express everything I hate about you, and I think I finally have it," Xander says with a grin. "What do you think of Ritch?"
Edward's face turns red, and his arrogant expression turns to a scowl. Xander laughs.
"Get it? Because everything about you screams rich. Rich clothes, rich haircut, rich accent, rich everything. So your name might as well be Ritch. You know, because rich becomes Ritch. There's the subtle difference of the 't' there, and you just can't leave that out."
"You're going to suffer," Edward says, his face scarlet. "But not before I block every last one of your attacks to let you know how futile it is to fight me. So bring it!"
Xander charges with a shout, swinging his sword down at Edward. He easily parries it though, but Xander's rage gives him speed and strength I haven't seen from him before, and he swings his sword over and over at Edward. Edward is forced to backpedal on the crazed assault of him.
For a second it looks like Xander might throw Edward off balance, but then he steadies himself and plants his feet. He starts blocking each of Xander's attacks, sliding them off to either side of him with a grimace under the heavy hits of Xander's sword.
Xander tries different combinations of attacks and thrusts, but Edward somehow manages to block or parry them all without taking another step back, and slowly but surely Xander begins to tire out, his breathing becoming audible as sweat appears on him.
After a full two minutes of slashing, Xander gives one last attack, using both his hands to deliver an overhand slash down on Edward. Edward puts his sword horizontally and grabs the blade with his leather clad left hand to help brace it as Xander's sword comes down and hits it. Edward stops his blade cold, but Xander keeps pushing down, forcing Edward to keep using both hands to block. Edward can't parry the blade down into the ground away from his body because one of the serrated blades on Xander's sword has caught Edward's blade.
They struggle in silence for a few moments, Edward trying to pry his blade free as he grows tired from the awkward last second block. His arms are bent instead of straightened, which makes it insanely hard for him to continually resist the heavier blade Xander has.
"Hey Edward." Xander gasps as they continue their sword lock. "I gave this weapon a name, you know."
"Does it looks like I care?" Edward shoots back, struggling to keep Xander from cutting down into his body.
Xander giggles, and as I look at the deadly blades locked together, I notice a small, thin piece of metal at the top of Xander's handle with a small ring around it. Xander takes his pointer finger from the handle and wraps it around the piece of metal.
"Hey Edward," he pits, his eyes wide. "Guess what?"
Xander pushes his sword slightly up so the serrated blade Edward's sword comes on comes free briefly while still keeping his sword's blade pressing down. Then he pulls the metal piece I now recognize as a trigger.
Xander's blade lets out a scream as green light flows through indents in the blade, and then the serrated part of the blade begins moving. They all face and move in the same direction, and they start moving around the actual sword faster than my eye can see.
There's a sharp screech of metal as the first tiny blade hit's Xander's sword, and I see now why he moved it slightly up. It was to give it momentum. The blade cuts through a part of Edward's sword, and then the next blade is coming, and the next. Xander pushes his sword down, and cuts through the entirety of Edward's sword with a squeal of metal and flash of sparks, the edges smoldering orange with faint green smoke.
All of this happens in seconds. And then Xander's sword is flashing down into Edward's body.
"That's right!" Xander screams shrilly as continues his downward slash. "Chainsword, Ritch!"
Edward manages to move slightly to his right at the last second and instead of cutting into his head, it cuts into his left shoulder, sawing a deep cut the way down to his hip. Blood sprays in a red mist, and he screams as he stumbles backwards, a sound barely audible beneath the roar of Xander's Chainsword.
Somehow, Edward manages to stay on his feet as Xander lets his Chainsword sputter to a stop, but Edward's face look white as a ghost's, and blood pour profusely from his wound. He looks in horror between the piece of his sword he holds in his left hand and the rest in his right. Then he seems to realize he's been cut as he slowly looks down at himself, and his face instantly turns ten shades paler at the blood.
I've seen blood before, but never like this. Xander didn't quite manage to saw halfway through his body, but the cut is still deep. I expect myself to feel nauseous, but I don't. Maybe it's because it's distant enough that I can rationalize it, or maybe it has to do with that I know it's just a shell. A fake body.
Or maybe it has something to do with me wanting to see Edward get hurt. Maybe I just don't care.
Edward lets out a scream of pain and rage, and rushes at Xander, dropping the tip of his sword in his left hand as he goes. He swings down wildly at Xander, but Xander is ready and intercepts with his left hand and its giant metal gauntlet.
Edward's broken blade gets stuck on the pipes and gears of Xander's gauntlet, and Xander presses a button with his left thumb, his own face looking fairly pale at the sight of so much blood.
I hear a gurgling sound, and then green liquid sprays out from Xander's gauntlet at high enough pressure that it looks like mist. The liquid hits Edward's face with a sizzling sound, and I hear him scream and drop his sword as what I presume to be acid starts eating away at him.
Xander doesn't look crazed anymore as Edward flounders backwards, screaming in pain. He just looks sickened. He walks up to Edward and pulls back his arm to stab his sword into him.
I look away as he does it, and I instantly know when it's done because Edward starts screaming in the actual room we're in. It takes him a second to realize he's back in reality, and when he does, he rolls off the chair onto the floor, grabs the metal bucket, and retches into it.
"So that's what those are for," Xander says as he shakily grabs his sword and gauntlet, walking over to us with an ashen face. "Probably a good idea, I guess."
Everyone else only looks slightly sickened by what they just saw, but other than Molly, no one looks outright horrified. I guess I shouldn't be surprised about that, considering the cold world of insane magics and sanity-ripping monsters we live in.
No, it's not even that. It's Noxus. I remember learning that in Noxus, watching public duels to the death was an everyday occurrence, and public executions were even considered as a form of entertainment. Everyone comes from a place where watching someone die is nothing new or particularly scary. The only reason Edward is so affected is because it actually happened to him, and Xander is technically Zaunite, so he hasn't seen what actually occurs in Noxus. Molly's probably only affected because she cares so much about people. She's soft.
It probably speaks volumes that I'm not affected by it either, I guess. Technically though, I've lived under Noxian rule the majority of my life, and I've seen terrible, terrible, atrocities committed right in front of my eyes. Compared to those, this fake duel with fake bodies in a fake arena is nothing. Absolutely nothing.
"Edward, Xander, you may leave to get cleaned up if you wish," Fairfax states, but Edward gets up and walks over to the wall and leans against it, his dark eyes challenging anyone to look at him.
Xander sits down against the wall, breathing slightly heavy and still looking shaky, and he shakes his head as Fairfax looks at him questioningly.
"Got to see… one duel… in particular," Xander hiccups, looking sick to his stomach.
His words hit me hard, and I grimace. He thinks he's staying to cheer me on in an inevitable fight, that he wants to be moral support in my eventual downfall. I can see it in his eyes as he looks at me and gives me a reassuring nod and weak smile.
I know I should feel lucky that he's so nice, or at least acting so nice, but I just feel frustrated that he doesn't believe in me.
"Wouldn't want to make you wait," I murmur quietly, slightly surprising everyone including myself. The pain in my throat and lungs has lessened slightly, just to the point where I can speak without crying.
"I challenge Elizabeth," I rasp, and she looks at me wide eyed for a moment, before a slow and steady smile appears on her face.
"I accept," she says, already moving to one of the chairs and setting her two swords next to it.
I walk up to the chair, but before I can lay down in it, Dumont steps in front of me with a frown.
"Could you draw your sword, please?" he asks, scratching his goatee thoughtfully.
I hook my left thumb underneath the black metal snowflake guard, grabbing the handle with my right hand. Then I push with my thumb and slowly pull the sword out, the light flashing against the spellsteel. The edged half of the blade is a silver-white as bright as snow and ice, while the back, dull half is an obsidian black, darker than the night. The white and black split the blade into two contrasting halves, ink and ice refusing to mix.
I can feel the eyes of everyone on my sword as Dumont puts a hand near it with a frown.
"Spell-forged, am I right?" Fairfax says from where he stands, looking passive.
I give a simple nod as Dumont continues staring at the blade before giving a simple nod.
"I just wanted to make sure none of the spells would interfere with the rules we put into place. I must confess though, this exceeds my expertise. The spellwork is quite… intricate."
"It won't interfere," I say simply, and he nods, moving out of my way.
I sheathe the blade and lay on the chair, electing to lay the blade on my body and hold it instead of putting it next to me. Then I close my eyes to begin my summoning spell.
"Geez, what's ta-" I hear Elizabeth begin, but I block her out, reaching out my senses.
I feel the spell inlaid into the chair beneath me instantly. It feels like a tunnel leading to a room of sorts. I follow the tunnel with my mind, and then I'm in the battlefield. Instead of seeing the actual terrain, I see lines of blue energy and webworks that make up skeletons of the ground, trees, and rocks.
I take a moment to focus inward, ignoring the battlefield. I imagine myself standing in the kendo training room at school, wearing the simple, loose practice clothes unique to Ionia. I imagine holding my sword in my left hand, the feeling of the spellblade. Finally, I open my senses to my body, and I vaguely feel the pains of my actual one, seemingly far away. I take time to painstakingly remove those pains, and when I do, I keep the feeling of my body, clothes, and sword in perfect condition.
I open back up to the arena, and I now appear to be floating slightly above the ground in a ghostly form of the image I keep in my mind. I descend slowly, and let my foot touch the webwork ground. I feel energy surge through my shell, working it's way up my body as my other leg touches too, and then I pull away, back to my own body as my shell becomes solidified in the Aether realm.
"-my shell ready while you were talking, think you could hurry it up?" Elizabeth finishes as I open my eyes, and I stare at her, feeling smug.
Her eyes widen as she looks between me and the screen.
"How did you… so quickly?" she fumbles, narrowing her eyes at me.
I say nothing, electing to instead close my eyes and wait. I hear Dumont walk between us as Elizabeth lets out an annoyed tsk. I can feel it as he starts pulling together energy, and then it reaches out, engulfing me.
It feels like I'm falling for a second, and then I feel my feet touch the energy of the Aether. It feels almost like jumping feet first into a pond, the energy rushing up over me. I land a second later, directly into my shell, and I'm absorbed in, the shell's sense instantly overtaking my previous ones.
I take a deep breath in as a soft breeze blows through the clearing, and the warm light from the sun shines down on my skin. The air is crisp and lively, and it fills my uninjured lungs blissfully full. I just admire the lack of pain and sore muscles for a second, looking into the sky.
I look down at Elizabeth a few seconds later as I hear her laugh. She wears tight fitting leather armor colored a dark crimson. The jacket the hugs her looks especially thick, and I see some symbols of black cloth embroidered into the leather. She slowly reaches up to her back where two sword sheaths poke out, and she draws her blades. They are shorter than a longsword and vicious looking, made of a colored red steel and shaped almost like cleavers.
"The countdown will now begin," Dumont's voice says from seemingly nowhere, echoing oddly into the arena. "Ten."
"I warned you about the plan being brutal, didn't I?" Elizabeth asks with a sick smile, crouching down with her swords at the ready.
"Seven."
"This is only the beginning, though," she says, flipping the sword in her right hand into an underhanded grip. "The more you fight back, the more brutal it gets. And that's coming from me."
"Four."
I turn my body sideways so my right side is facing her, and I shift with my left hand so the handle points at her, slowly putting my right hand on the handle and my left thumb against the guard.
"How good are you with that, anyway?" she asks scornfully. "I want to know how strong the person I'm about to beat is, after all."
"Two."
"I was third best in my school's kendo club," I answer, pushing the blade slightly from the sheath so the habaki of the blade, the piece of metal that wraps around the sword after the guard and keeps it in the sheath, comes free.
"Too bad for you," she laughs, blue eyes flashing. "I was trained by a master and got better marks than my brother. I won't go down as easy as he did."
"Zero."
Elizabeth rushes at me, curly blond hair whipping out behind her as she makes the distance between us start to disappear, her legs moving with blurring speed. Her mouth is open in glee that matches her eyes, and I can all but see the thoughts in her mind.
She thinks that because I haven't drawn my sword yet, she can get a quick slash in on me before I have time to react. With her agility, speed, and decisiveness, it makes sense. She's using the length and weight of my sword against me, betting that I won't be able to block her lightning attacks.
I slowly shift my katana, still sheathed, as she approaches, tilting the blade so instead of being edge up it is facing to my left, and I move the hilt slightly away from my hip, standing my ground.
The distance between us is almost gone, and I expected to feel anxious and scared by now. I don't. I just feel tired with smoldering anger. I don't know if it's directed at Elizabeth or just everything that's happening and happened in general, but I don't care. I take a deep breath as she comes closer and closer, letting the air make my mind clear and serene as glass.
She twists her body, her blades around her like deadly petals as she comes into range to strike me.
I take a step forward with my right leg, crouching down as I keep my left foot in place. Then I pull my katana from the sheath as fast as I can.
In Ionia, the katana is the favored blade due to the mastery we've achieved over it from years of tradition and practice. One of the things to come from that mastery is the art called Iaido. The idea behind it is one positions the sheathed edge of the sword at the opponent, and in one smooth motion, they draw the blade, using the draw to slash at the same time. I've seen master practitioners demonstrate it in a second, even managing to sheath the blade in that time.
She lunges at me just as I lower myself, switching to overhand grips for both her blades as she flies through the air. Her blades are raised over her right shoulder, her body slightly twisted positions herself perfectly, lunging slightly to my left so she'll swing her blades diagonally down at me and strike me as she goes by.
My sword sings out from its scabbard, and I deliver a one handed slash aimed at her belly between her jacket and belt, twisting my body to deliver the maximum force I can. I keep my eyes forward as I do, not wanting to see what happens next. I feel a jolt through my sword as a sudden, terrible sensation of cutting vibrates down the blade, and something hot and wet sprays onto my left side, my clothes and face. Half a second later the terrible sensation is gone, and my swing is completed, my blade pointing directly to my right.
I slowly look to my blade, and I see blood soaking its entire length, pooling in the groove along the backbone of the blade. I hear a sickening gasp and squelching sound from a short distance behind me along with a thump, and then another right after. I keep my eyes on my blade, watching as a single drop of blood falls from the edge onto the ground, instantly wettening the grass and dirt.
I slowly stand up straight, ignoring the wet sensation on my left side, and I flick my blade down hard, throwing the blood off it. I slowly put the back of the blade against my left hand, and then pull it away until the edge falls into the scabbard, and I sheath the blade.
A second later I feel a sudden sensation as I'm pulled away from the shell, and I get the reverse feeling from when I entered the Aether arena. The world goes dark as my senses return to me, and I almost gasp in pain as all the aches and hurts return to me, my breath burning my sore throat and lungs.
I open my eyes slowly, and I see Elizabeth hunched over the bucket next to her chair, gasping for breath and letting out a small, scared sound as she does so. I slowly stand up, still holding onto my sword as I do.
"Y-y-you," she gasps out, shaking slightly. "Y-you cut me in h-half. Y-you must of cheated. T-to move th-that fast…"
She trails off as she looks at me, her eyes wild.
"Third best?" she squeaks out, her eyes widening in horror.
I turn and walk away, moving towards the door. I can guess what the results will be from the other duels, and it's not like staying would help anyone. As I reach the door and open it, I pause, looking back at the still doubled over form of Elizabeth.
"I hope your 'plan' gets better than this," I rasp quietly, exhaustion flooding through me. "For your sake, that is."
I turn my back on the lot of them and leave. I wonder if a shower will make me feel clean. Mud and Noxians have a bad habit of making me feel stained, like no matter what I do, they'll keep haunting me.
I frown. No. Let them come. Today was a victory. This was their best attempt at getting me out so far, and I still managed to even out my point value. They tried to beat me, and they lost. I don't have to gain points, I just have to not lose points. It may hurt, but I've faced greater pain. Let them come and try to beat my defense.
I leave the training room feeling cold, muddy, and in pain, but I leave victorious, a small smile of victory tugging at my face. That was their best shot, and I won. They have nothing to scare me with now. Nothing. I know their tricks.
Let them come.