It was with a determined eye that Dart strode out into the arena. Lavitz could see the newfound confidence in his gait, his sword swinging threateningly in his hand. After Dart's first match, Lavitz had worried that the pressures of the competition would be too much for him, but today seemed to prove otherwise.

"He looks much better," said Lavitz.

"Yes, not quite as terrified," muttered Rose on his left.

"I think he's going to do great!" cheered Shana from the other side of Rose.

"But, he is going to have his hands full with this one," remarked Haschel from Lavitz's right. "I've seen this guy's earlier match. He's pretty good."

"Dart is pretty good, too," defended Lavitz. "He's the best swordsman I've ever seen, and that's saying something."

"He must have gotten a lot better since I knew him, then!" laughed Haschel.

"Most definitely," chuckled Lavitz. "Plus, you'd be surprised what being a dragoon will do for you."

"I look forward to seeing it!"

As Dart and his opponent reached the middle circle, Lavitz could tell that Dart was exerting an effort to ignore the loud, distracting audience. He hoped that Dart would be able to tune them out so that they wouldn't have to patch him up like last time.

The challenger stood fully suited under heavy armor, eyes barely visible behind a visor. Like Dart, he carried no shield, but hefted a broadsword in his right hand. Even from such a distance, Lavitz could tell that his steps were well-placed and purposeful. Both men readied their weapons as the announcer called out their names: Dart and Serfius. Then the gong sounded, and the battle began.

Immediately, Lavitz was impressed with Serfius; he was much smarter than many of the other contestants that they had seen thus far. Rather than rushing headlong into the battle, he waited to see what Dart would do. They mirrored each other's movements perfectly as they traced out the repainted circle in the middle of the arena.

Without warning, there was a flurry of movement. Dart rushed up to meet Serfius, and their swords clashed violently. Lavitz was surprised that Serfius was managing to keep up with Dart's quick movements, being weighed down by heavy armor, but Dart could not seem to find his way through his opponent's defenses. Whenever he almost had the upper hand, Serfius managed to block just in time. The swordsman may have had a real chance at winning the competition, Lavitz conceded... had Dart not entered.

As skilled as Serfius may have been, he was not a dragoon. Dart continued to come down on his enemy, slowly pushing him back toward the wall. For a split second, Lavitz sensed that his dragoon power was about to be unleashed. Something in the air, imperceptible to anyone around them, changed for just a moment. Rose must have felt it, too, because she leaned forward, but right at that moment, Dart dramatically pulled back, taking deep breaths as he circled his prey. The sensation died away as Dart forced himself into a calm.

Serfius remained readied for battle, but Dart let his sword hang limply by his side; the distance between them was great enough that he didn't need to worry about a sudden attack. Taking advantage of Dart's relaxed state, Serfius reached up and removed his helmet, tossing it aside. Although his eyes strained to see across the great distance, Lavitz fancied that he saw a young boy, hardly older than sixteen, standing with a steely gaze before Dart.

"Hm," he grunted.

"You'd think that I would have noticed that he was that young before, but I definitely didn't," said Haschel. "I don't think he's ever taken that helmet off."

"I'm just impressed that someone so young could keep up with Dart."

"Yeah, you weren't kidding about him getting better... His technique has definitely improved, and I can see what you mean about the dragoon thing. His speed almost rivals my own!"

"Almost?"

"Almost." Haschel winked.

Lavitz chuckled. He'd decided that he liked Haschel. Not only did he seem to put Dart more at ease, but he had some amazing stories after twenty years of roaming the continent. Lavitz couldn't wait to hear more.

His attention snapped back to Dart as he lunged toward his opponent, coming down on him with all his weight. The two blades met in a loud clang, and Dart pressed down until Serfius was almost forced to his knees under the force. But Serfius was not a fool; he sacrificed his own stability to damage Dart's, swinging his foot around to knock the back of Dart's knee. But Dart had seen it coming and released the pressure with enough time to sidestep the feeble attack before sliding his sword across the exposed cloth on the back of Serfius's knee, drawing blood and eliciting a cry of pain.

However, the boy recovered quickly, immediately trying to return the blow. He stood straighter and swung from the right, but Dart had no trouble blocking him. The weight of his armor was finally starting to turn on him, and the speed gap between the two contestants grew.

Lifting his sword, Dart began to attack swiftly, relying on his dexterity rather than strength. He jabbed quickly at the inside of Serfius's elbow, poking through the leather with ease as the boy struggled to defend himself. Then knocking aside the resulting counterattack, Dart stepped around Serfius and used his own tactic against him, kicking the back of his knee and sending him to the ground. For a moment, it looked as though Dart had won, but Serfius quickly rolled away from him and jumped to his feet, surprisingly spry given his lagging reflexes and multiple injuries. He backed away, sword raised defensively, while Dart followed.

"There he goes," said Haschel. "Dart's basically won now."

"Serfius is scared," agreed Lavitz.

His near-perfect footwork had become more haphazard, and he held himself with less confidence as Dart meandered threateningly toward him. Dart's victory was near.

He rushed forward, attacking with renewed vigor, consistently staying one step ahead. With each attack, Serfius fell one more second behind, until Dart managed to grab his wrist, slap it with the flat of his blade, and when it would not fall, wrench the sword free. He cast it to the side, holding up his own weapon threateningly, and waited expectantly.

The crowd began to cheer wildly, and Lavitz shouted once in excitement. There was a brief pause before Serfius raise his hand and signaled his surrender before kneeling to the ground, utterly exhausted.

Lavitz stood with his friends and the rest of the excited stands applauding Dart's win. But then Dart knelt down and helped the boy stand before walking with him back to the center of the arena. Lavitz beamed at Dart's compassion and glanced over to Shana. Her eyes were alight with adoration.

The girl from the registration table came out as Dart was announced the victor, leading him back into the waiting room.

"Let's go!" said Shana, bouncing up and down as she waited for the rest to follow her.

They made their way down to the waiting room entrance, as close as they could get without being contestants, Rose following reluctantly behind them. A minute later, Dart emerged, bounding up the stairs with a mighty grin, greeted by many salutations of congratulations. Lavitz couldn't help but notice the hidden subtext between Dart and Shana: an agreement had been struck between them, but a solution had not been found for their earlier hostilities; they were almost back to normal.

The morning after Dart's first match, Lavitz had instantly noticed a shift in Dart's behavior. Instead of the more easygoing person he had come to be around them, part of him had relapsed back into the stiff character he had been on the way to Bale. Shana had changed, too, although she had put much more effort into hiding it. She'd been angry with Dart, and the discomfort between them radiated out whenever they had been in the same room. Whatever had happened between them, Lavitz didn't know. Both were being incredibly secretive about the whole thing, and Lavitz had found himself more and more irritated over the days that followed.

It didn't help that he'd still received no reply from Bale. Surely King Albert would have answered his letter as soon as it was delivered to the palace and sent orders for his return or relocation as fast as possible. At the very least, Lavitz had hoped to be informed of the state of the war, now that the dragon had been defeated. With Sandora's secret weapon out of the picture, surely things were now going better. But there was no way to tell. Lohan had long declared itself neutral, and the city council made a point to avoid matters of war. No couriers came through except in the direst of circumstances. His only information would have come from Bale. But how long would it take for a message to reach him? He knew that they were well within the range of time for a letter to arrive, but being detached from the crown left him uneasy. That helpless feeling that had plagued him within Hellena ate away at him now in Lohan.

But he said none of this to his friends. It was very possible that nothing was wrong; there was no need to worry them.

They wasted away the rest of the day with Haschel, who had sidled his way comfortably into their little group. Although he would never have admitted it aloud, Lavitz truly enjoyed not being the oldest in the group anymore. He had always felt like a worried father, running to and fro trying to make sure his children stayed in line. At last, with Haschel being almost twice his age, he at least had someone to pass the blame onto should anything happen.

Haschel had developed a deep intrigue with dragoon spirits and the powers they bestowed upon their users, and most of the conversations he began revolved around this. What kinds of things could Dart do with fire? How much wind could be harnessed in human form? What did it feel like to channel raw magic? It was clear that he wanted a real demonstration, but thankfully even Dart understood the implications of showing off such a power in the middle of a busy town like Lohan. Especially with a bounty on their unidentified heads, such displays were incredibly dangerous.

As they walked through the streets that afternoon to see another match, Lavitz couldn't help but notice several posters offering incredible rewards for any information regarding the "dragon slayers."

Feeling exposed and vulnerable, he desperately hoped that he would hear from King Albert soon.

That night, Lavitz found sleep elusive despite his tiredness. His mind played back the Battle of Hoax over and over, trying to get an estimation of the forces that Doel had at his disposal and imagining what may go wrong in the near future. As much as he had tried to fight it, he could not force away the anxiety bubbling within him. Multiple times, he tried to dispel the dark thoughts, favoring instead theories about what had happened between Dart and Shana, but inevitably, his mind returned to the war. He needed to be fighting, not enjoying himself at a tournament while his brothers gave their lives for his country.

It was past midnight when he finally drifted off.

The next morning, Dart, Shana, and Lavitz met for breakfast in the common room, buzzing with excitement about the day's events. It was the last day before the final match, and Dart only needed to win two more matches to get there. Suddenly, the grand prize seemed attainable, and Lavitz did all he could to help Dart feel confident enough to take on the challenge. Rose joined them not too long after, and they made their way to the arena.

Earlier that morning had marked the first round of the third tier, and the tent was alive with anticipation as the better matches approached. There were only four third-tier matches, and then two semifinal matches, all of which were occurring today. Having missed the first match of the day, the group settled in to watch the second, soon joined by Haschel. Much to his pleasure, Lavitz found himself sitting next to Shana, giving him the perfect opportunity to discover the events of that mysterious night.

As the match readied, Lavitz scanned over the bracket, now almost full of names, and noted that there were only seven people left in the competition out of the original thirty-two; he was proud to see Dart's name among them. He was most intrigued to see the inevitable match when Dart would face off against Haschel; they were both superior warriors, and he knew that they must meet in the final round, if not before. Lavitz could not discern the exact pattern that chose each match's contestants, but it was at least possible for them to win first and second place.

The hour readied to chime, and a man and a woman stepped out into the arena. He had seen the woman before as the contestants had exited the tent the day before the tournament started; she wore leather armor and carried a sword and shield. Her opponent, however, was more unconventional. He wore little armor, only steel-cuffed boots and leather trousers, and carried a bow, a quiver full of arrows resting on his back. Lavitz faintly remembered Dart mentioning this man before, but he couldn't believe that someone wielding a bow would actually make it this far in such a tournament.

Nudging Shana lightly, he said, "Look, we have an archer. Maybe you should have competed after all."

"Definitely not," she laughed. "I wouldn't have even made it past the first round."

"Aw, come on. You're a dragoon, too, you know."

"That may be, but I basically taught myself how to use a bow. I'm not actually all that good at it."

"I've seen you hit a dragon square in the eye!"

"You shouldn't say that out loud here, and that was a very different situation."

"Oh, well," Lavitz conceded. "I guess it would have been unfair to unleash two dragoons on this tournament anyway."

Shana chuckled and shook her head, watching the competitors ready themselves for combat. Lavitz, too, was intrigued with the battle, especially because he didn't understand how an archer could fight in close quarters, but he was also highly distracted by his opportunity to speak with Shana. As the battle began, he watched the man, named Atlow, knock and fire several arrows within the first few seconds before turning to Shana.

"Hey," he said gingerly. "I know you may not want to talk about this, and if so, that's fine. Just say the word and I won't pry. But..." Her muscles tightened; she knew what he was going to ask. "What exactly happened between you and Dart?"

The words finally came out and hung over them like a thick blanket. Shana sighed and glanced over to Dart, who was on the other side of Rose - well out of earshot - before carefully choosing her words.

"Dart... still doesn't know what he wants."

Instantly, it all came together. He could see it now: Dart's transparent expressions, close proximity giving her a sliver of hope, before he pretended nothing had happened. Just like that night they had had drinks. Lavitz had noticed the new attraction Dart had for her as soon as she woke in the clinic, an extension of his own feelings finally coming into the light, brought forth by her narrow escape from death. That night in the inn as Shana decided to leave them, he'd almost thought that Dart would actually do something about it, but was disappointed to see nothing but Shana's frustration as Dart missed his opportunity. This time must have been much worse, given what had happened afterwards.

"I see," he answered simply.

He didn't want to be that friend who tries to engineer a relationship, but it seemed that Dart and Shana were at a standstill. Dart would need an extra push if anything were to happen; Lavitz just needed to wait for the right moment.

Turning his attention back to the battle, he was mildly surprised to find that Atlow had landed an arrow in the woman's left shoulder, forcing her to drop her shield and continue with only her sword. She had smartly closed the distance between them, but Atlow was fierce even in close combat. He used his bow almost like a two-bladed sword, and indeed, Lavitz could now make out the glint of sharpened steel at the ends of the wooden curve. He quickly overpowered the woman, giving her two more light wounds before she surrendered the battle.

Glancing over to his left, Lavitz saw that Dart and Haschel were talking furiously about the match, occasionally pointing down to the competitors. It only made sense. After all, one of them would be fighting this victor later in the day, if they both succeeded at their first matches. But Lavitz couldn't avoid the twinge of jealousy that arose deep in his chest. It only intensified as Haschel let out a deep laugh, Dart joining in soon after with a look of pride. He couldn't help but think of the strained distance that had sat between himself and Dart the past several days.

This is silly, he thought. He turned away, casting away his doubts with his memories of their times on the road. He and Dart were good friends; nothing could change that.

A second later, Shana placed her hand on his forearm and gave him a sad smile.

"I know," she said simply.

He smiled weakly back. No doubt, Shana felt this way whenever Dart had interesting conversations with Rose, and probably even when Lavitz himself held Dart's attention for an extended period of time. He was grateful for Shana's empathy, and he placed his hand on top of hers.

A minute later, Dart stood, announcing that he should go prepare for his match, and everyone nodded as he walked away. Eyeing the chart above them, Lavitz saw that Dart would be facing a man named Danton in this fight, and he tried to recall if he had seen any of his matches before. It seemed likely. The name was familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

"Danton..." he wondered aloud. "Shana, do you remember a Danton?"

"I think so..." she began, but was cut off by Rose.

"Big guy wearing heavy armor, wielding a hammer. Strong, but slow."

"That's it!" said Lavitz. "Should be easy for Dart, then. He's fast."

"Indeed."

The prediction proved true. Dart had always been light on his feet, but compared to the lumbering giant he faced, he practically danced circles around him. As Dart avoided Danton's slow attacks, he searched for chinks in Danton's thick armor. His sword found its mark multiple times, drawing blood and infuriating Danton into more haphazard attacks. Several times, Lavitz feared that he might land a hard hit, but Dart expertly avoided them each time. At last, Danton conceded the battle, recognizing Dart's superior strength.

The crowd erupted once more as Ginger lifted Dart's hand high into the air. He grinned widely up at them, but Danton sulked to the side, clearly upset that such a young boy had been able to best him. A moment later, the competitors were making their way out of the pit of the arena, Dart throwing a few more waves over his shoulder and earning a few more whistles from the spectators.

Still applauding, Lavitz shook his head and laughed. "He's certainly gotten used to the attention," he said.

"It looks like it!" replied Shana happily.

It seemed that despite the awkward strain on their relationship, she still wished for Dart to be happy. Lavitz smiled more broadly at this, realizing the depth of the love she had for him. She must have been able to recognize the growth that had come over Dart in the last few days alone, and she was proud of him.

They sidled out of the stands and reached the stairs just as Dart was emerging. He beamed as Lavitz clapped him on the shoulder.

"You did a great job, man!" he said. "You're getting better with every match. You may just win this thing."

"If I don't take that honor myself!" laughed Haschel.

"Thanks!" replied Dart. "I'm really glad you guys come to watch my matches." His eyes lingered on Shana as he glanced around at each of them.

"We wouldn't miss them for anything!" said Shana casually, but Lavitz saw the hidden words she spoke with her eyes. She had forgiven him; they were back to normal.

Dart seemed to comprehend, because his smile broadened even further.

"Let's go get something to eat!"

"Sure thing," replied Haschel. "As long as we're back in an hour. I'm up next!" He gestured to the chart.

"My next match is actually the third one this afternoon," said Dart. "I think it's the last one of the day."

"Which means Master Haschel might have two matches back-to-back," realized Lavitz.

"Which means I will have two matches back-to-back," corrected Haschel. "You know I'm going to win."

Lavitz laughed as they turned toward the exit. "Of course! My mistake."

The group made their way down the streets of Lohan, laughing and chatting happily. Lavitz was content; everyone was happy, and everyone was safe. He couldn't deny the worry about the war sitting in the back of his mind, but right now, everything was alright.