Roy, Maelara, Eryndra, Siren, Warrex, Lutrian, and Takara boarded the newly constructed test tram. Sleek and fully furnished, it looked nothing like a mere test vehicle. Comfortable, cushioned benches lined each side, and polished metal gleamed gently beneath the electric glow of interior lights. To Roy, it felt strangely nostalgic, like he'd stepped back into a late-night city tram back home, a sensation that immediately tightened something painful in his chest.
Quietly humming, the experimental tram glided smoothly along the rail that stretched from the Capitol Building straight out toward the last outer wall of Otherrealm. It was an impressive engineering feat, a testament to the students' ingenuity and the remarkable collaboration between their technology and dwarven craftsmanship. Still, Roy knew this was mostly a trial run, a test of whether such a contraption could become commonplace in a city that was growing more advanced by the day.
As they moved through the city at night, Roy turned to gaze out the wide windows. Electric lights streaked past in long trails, illuminating streets, buildings, and homes built by the tireless efforts of his classmates. Otherrealm was thriving, a marvel of modern technology blended with a touch of fantasy. Yet, watching the lights blur by in gentle, rhythmic pulses filled him with an unexpected melancholy.
He couldn't place the reason for this sudden sadness. Life was good here, better than good, really, but the soft glow of streetlamps illuminating the rows of houses in the outer district left an aching familiarity in his chest. It wasn't homesickness exactly, but a deeper, darker sense of loss that tugged at him from somewhere buried in the past.
Unwanted memories flickered to the surface, painful flashes of concrete hallways and echoing footsteps. The smell of gasoline. Caliban's voice mocking him, his first "friend" begging desperately, then finally the searing agony as flames erupted across his back. He'd chosen to endure that fire for his first friend, the only person aside from his uncle who'd ever shown him kindness. Roy remembered the betrayal clearly, even after waking in the hospital with skin still raw and nerves still screaming, limping back to school a few short weeks later only to hear that same friend reject him. "Too many scary people mess with you," the boy had said, eyes avoiding Roy's pleading stare. "We can't be friends anymore."
Roy's stomach twisted sharply, the phantom pain in his scars briefly reigniting beneath his shirt. He forced the memories down, gripping the edge of his seat so tightly his knuckles paled. Ten percent of his school life spent hospitalized. Not mere bruises or stolen lunch money, true, brutal torment. Yet somehow, here in this new world, he'd almost managed to bury that trauma. Almost.
The tram moved into quieter, open neighborhoods, leaving behind the bustling city center. Roy stared out across peaceful homes and softly lit streets, fighting to steady his breathing, struggling to push the past firmly back where it belonged.
"Man, let's bring some flavor back to this city," Roy said, more to himself than anyone else.
Slowly, the echoes faded, replaced by the steady hum of the tram, the quiet conversations around him, and the gentle lights passing by outside.
Roy leaned toward Warrex, lowering his voice, "So, what's the story with this Siren guy anyway? Anything I should know?"
Before Warrex could respond, Maelara turned sharply from her spot beside the doorway, cutting in, "Oh, him? I know a few things."
Warrex shrugged, indicating for Roy to listen to Maelara instead. Roy raised an eyebrow. "Go on, then. What's so special about him?"
Maelara folded her arms, her voice low but clear. "My father's known him for a long time. In fact, my father is one of the six guildmasters."
Roy's eyes widened slightly. "Wait, seriously? Your dad?"
"Yes," she said casually. "My father told me stories from when he was young. Even then, Siren was already two thousand years old. That was around three thousand years ago."
Roy felt a chill run up his spine. "Wait... five thousand years old? I'm not even sure I'd want to live a tenth as long."
Maelara nodded slowly. "And he's barely changed. He's always been this quiet, wise type. He has no known guild affiliations, never took mercenary contracts. He spent his life quietly defending the forest."
She hesitated briefly before adding, "Well, that's mostly true. He did join the final battle against the Immortal Family, but only after his wife, the last hero of that era and first ever elven hero, was captured and slain by the Mourning Tyrant, and resurrected as his tenth undead hero."
Roy flinched. "Damn."
"Unfortunately for Siren," she continued quietly, glancing briefly toward the meditating elf, "he stumbled across the Gloaming Scion in that battle. The clash was brief, but brutal. It's said that he managed to deflect many of the Scion's strikes, but eventually was caught their cursed blade."
Maelara traced a moon-shaped curve from her right shoulder down toward her right hip. "A deep, crescent-shaped scar across his back. It's said he still feels the agony of that wound every single day."
She looked at Roy seriously. "But don't tell him I told you that. Siren is very private about personal things, at least until you've truly earned his trust."
From across the tram car came Siren's calm, smooth voice. "You are less than twenty feet away, child. Did you truly believe I couldn't hear you?"
Maelara didn't even flinch. "Oh, sorry," she replied flatly.
Roy laughed awkwardly, attempting to diffuse tension. "Well, if it helps, maybe I could figure out a way to help heal that scar. I've got some pretty unique magic at my disposal."
Siren opened his eyes slowly, his gaze quiet but intense. "I appreciate the thought, Captain Gunn. But even if you couldn't remove this pain, it is one I have accepted the burden of. It serves as a reminder, a consequence I accepted long ago."
The tram fell quiet again until it shuddered gently, arriving at the tracks' end. They disembarked, stepping onto soft grass and sparse dirt beyond the city limits. They walked together, Eryndra and Siren slightly ahead, neither acknowledging the other.
Reaching the open training ground, Eryndra finally broke the silence, turning to Siren with blatant disrespect. "How fragile are you exactly, old man? Should I pull my punches a bit?"
Siren regarded her calmly, drawing his blade with practiced ease. Roy noted its peculiar design, it was as if a katana and a scimitar had a child and then let a rapier raise the resulting child. Siren held it loosely, yet the air seemed to thrum quietly around its polished edge.
"You will discover precisely how fragile I am soon enough," Siren said evenly.
Eryndra smirked, clenching her fists as steam began rising from her armor vents. "Good. Let's see how long you can hold my interest, old man."
Eryndra's relaxed stance grew taut and ready. She suddenly burst forward, swiftly closing the distance between herself and Siren. She threw a powerful, sweeping punch, but Siren parried her strikes effortlessly with the lower section of his sword, not bothering to move more than was absolutely necessary.
After several exchanges of swift but casual parries, Eryndra's eyes narrowed. "Alright, let's pick up the pace," she muttered, her fists accelerating dramatically. The playful rhythm quickly turned into fierce strikes.
Siren adjusted instantly, his blade now smacking her fists away with greater strength. The surprising solidity of his sword finally forced Eryndra to pause. She eyed the weapon curiously. "What's that sword made of? It's absurdly hard."
Siren glanced at his weapon briefly and shrugged. "You know, I don't quite remember. I've had it for thousands of years, perhaps I forged it myself, or stumbled across it somewhere. Could have bought it, for all I know."
Eryndra grinned slightly. "Well, back to the fight then."
She burst forward once more, increasing the tempo even further, but Siren smoothly deflected her attacks. He sighed theatrically, raising an eyebrow at her. "Surely you didn't injure a primeval dragon with attacks this pitiful."
Her expression sharpened. She lunged forward, feinting a direct strike. As Siren moved to parry, she suddenly slowed her attack and reached past his blade, clutching the front of his tunic. Siren let out an impressed whistle before quickly slicing through his own clothing to escape, swiftly repositioning behind her in a smooth, agile step.
Eryndra raised an eyebrow, suddenly more enthusiastic. "Oh, so you've been holding back quite a bit," she noted, a gleam of excitement flashing in her eyes.
Lutrian leaned in to whisper to Roy, genuinely astonished. "His form is impeccably precise, so perfect that every unexpected motion appears completely chaotic. Imagine dropping a ball, and just before catching it, it veers sideways and teleports behind your head, that's what it's like."
Warrex nodded grimly. "Exactly. Just when you know you've figured out what he'll do next, he becomes utterly unpredictable. He makes you fully commit to a counter way to quickly."
Suddenly, with unexpected swiftness, Siren's sword flicked outward, lightly slapping Eryndra across the cheek with the flat of his blade. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "You may regret that by the end of this battle."
Siren smiled mischievously, readying himself. Eryndra launched another powerful strike, attempting to seize the blade directly, but Siren swiftly withdrew it, dancing lightly around her and delivering a precise strike with the hilt aimed at her back. To his surprise, she didn't budge an inch.
"Remarkable strength," he murmured appreciatively. "I'll have to strike you much harder than I thought."
He swiftly transitioned into a heavy overhead strike, but she nimbly dodged it, immediately charging back into close quarters. The battle escalated rapidly, strikes parried into the ground, counterattacks deftly blocked. After a rapid sequence of exchanges, Siren abruptly unleashed a volley of lightning-quick blows using the flat of his blade, culminating in a shallow cut across her cheek.
Eryndra reached up, dabbing lightly at the thin line of blood before it instantly healed. Her eyes sparkled with newfound exhilaration. "Now that you've drawn blood, you'd better be ready to take this seriously."
Without warning, she propelled herself into the air, descending with explosive force. Her landing shattered the earth beneath her feet, forcing Siren to swiftly retreat several paces to regain his footing. Immediately, he spun back into a fierce strike, but Eryndra charged directly into him, locking her powerful arms behind his back and beginning to squeeze tightly.
Roy folded his arms with exaggerated finality. "Well, that's it. It's all over. Everyone can head home. Once she grabs hold, it's game over."
Siren, still trapped in Eryndra's crushing embrace, managed a strained chuckle. "Your strength is truly frightening."
Takara cupped her hands to her mouth and called out, "Siren, seriously! You should surrender now. Our medical tech is great, but fixing broken spines is tricky!"
Before Roy could join in the teasing, Eryndra suddenly leapt back, releasing Siren. She shot Roy an angry look. "Roy! He's naughty! He kneed me right in my...in my no-no square!"
"For the love of god," Roy said, clearly embarrassed.
Siren adjusted his stance calmly, completely unashamed. "In battle, any target you present is fair game."
Warrex barked out a hearty laugh. "A dirty old man who fights dirty... I like it!"
Takara promptly smacked Warrex upside the head, scowling. He rubbed his head sheepishly. "Just being honest."
Eryndra glared defiantly at Siren. "Roy says people shouldn't do that kind of thing. Boundaries! Boundaries! And I'm not about to let you get away with it."
Without further warning, she rocketed toward Siren, her speed now pushed to the absolute limits of her normal state. Their exchanges grew ferocious, the clang of gauntlet meeting blade ringing sharply through the night air. Within moments, Siren began to look overwhelmed by her relentless assault, until abruptly he pivoted, movement blurring as he unleashed an explosive flurry of strikes, delivering two, three, then four dozen blows in rapid succession.
Eryndra hastily covered up, absorbing each hit on her armored gauntlets, but several precise slashes slipped through, leaving shallow cuts on the exposed areas of her arms. Siren stepped back calmly, leveling his blade at her. "If I had intended real harm, you'd have no arms left to fight with."
Maelara finally stepped forward, frowning deeply as she folded her powerful arms across her chest. "I can't watch this farce anymore. Eryndra, stop toying with him."
Siren arched a brow at her. "What exactly do you mean by that?"
Maelara sighed impatiently. "She tends to match her opponents' strength. When she and I sparred, she let me believe we were equal in power, but we absolutely weren't. It's insulting, really."
Siren raised his eyebrows, fixing Eryndra with a sharp stare. "How remarkably disrespectful of you."
Eryndra planted her fists firmly on her hips, scowling. "Don't be such a hippo crate!"
Roy cleared his throat gently. "It's 'hypocrite,' actually."
"That's what I said!" Eryndra snapped. She jabbed an accusing finger at Siren. "Besides, he was holding back first! Fair is fair."
Siren nodded slowly, conceding with a faint smile. "Fine, you've made your point. So how about we both stop holding back?"
Eryndra narrowed her eyes, cautioning him seriously, "You don't want that."
A dangerous gleam filled Siren's gaze. "I'm not giving you a choice."
Suddenly, a strange residue formed around him, mana condensing visibly in the air like ethereal frost. Siren surged forward at impossible speed, the tip of his sword appearing mere inches from Eryndra's face before she could react. In that instant, her armor vents snapped open halfway with a hiss, releasing explosive steam as she barely dodged aside.
She retaliated instantly with a thunderous punch to Siren's midsection, knocking him backward and forcing a sharp cough from his lips. Before he could regain balance, she chased after him, striking repeatedly and sending him skidding across the ground in a desperate effort to maintain footing. Her assault was relentless and overwhelming, battering him across the field as he struggled to counter or defend himself.
Finally regaining his balance, Siren stared at Eryndra in shock, chest heaving as he wiped blood from his mouth. Genuine astonishment and disbelief tinged his voice. "Impossible... this can't be possible. Just what kind of monster are you?"