The second day of the preselection began under a gray sky. The murmur of the crowd blended with the thunder of drums, each beat reverberating in the participants' chests.
—First match of the day! —announced the judge, his voice amplified with Astral—. Mikrom of Azoth versus Varrek of Veltramar!
Blair's cousin stepped onto the platform calmly, tightening his leather gloves. Opposite him stood a burly warrior wielding a double axe, glaring with ferocity.
—What do you think? —Mikan asked Blair, leaning against the railing.
—That Mikrom won't take more than two minutes. —The princess answered confidently.
The gong struck.
Varrek charged with a roar, his axe glowing with water-infused Astral. Mikrom didn't move until the blade was inches from his face. Then, with a fluid motion, he stomped his heel against the ground. The entire platform shook like an earthquake, columns of stone erupting beneath his opponent and hurling the Veltramar warrior outside the boundary.
Silence. Then the crowd erupted. Mikrom dusted off his hands and smirked.
—One down.
The fights continued, one after another. Most were displays of brute force or wild magic. A Nifelheim monk won using nothing but chains of ice; a woman from Caldus sliced the air with a blazing sword; and the Donner giant was eliminated by clumsily slipping off the circle, drawing laughter from the stands.
Mikan's turn came at noon.
—Mikan of Azoth versus Haru of Donner!
Asori watched her as she climbed the platform, light as a cat. Haru was a swift swordsman, his steps barely lifting dust.
The gong rang, and both vanished in a flash. The crowd couldn't follow the exchange: sparks, shadows, and flashes of steel. Mikan grinned playfully, dodging every strike as if it were a game.
—That's all you've got, handsome? —she teased, suddenly appearing behind him.
A second later, the edge of her kunai pressed against his throat. Haru dropped to his knees, defeated, still unable to grasp how he had lost so quickly.
—And that's how it's done. —Mikan said to the audience, with a mocking bow.
Between fights, Asori couldn't focus. His hands trembled, and it wasn't excitement. Every time his eyes searched for the knight in dark armor among the contestants, cold seeped into his body like poison.
Blair noticed. She grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her.
—What's wrong?
Asori swallowed hard.
—I don't get it… I know I'm stronger now. I trained, I survived… but every time I see him… —he clutched his chest, breath quickening— my body shakes, as if remembering I was about to die. And I don't even know who that man is.
Blair held his hand firmly.
—Then it's not your body. It's your mind. A wound that hasn't healed yet. And there's nothing wrong with that.
He closed his eyes. The memory of a blade slicing his torso, the smell of iron and fear, crashed into him like a wave.
—Technically… I was already dead that day. —he whispered.
Blair felt a knot in her chest. She pulled him close, resting her forehead against his.
—Then remember this: you're not alone. Every time your body trembles, think of me. I'm here.
The Sweet Kiss glowed faintly on their chests, as if responding to the silent vow.
Blair took a deep breath, and suddenly, an idea sparked in her mind—maybe something that could help distract Asori from his near-death memories.
—Maybe… we can take this further. The bond. Before, we managed to see glimpses of each other without meaning to. Maybe… we can communicate directly through it.
Asori stared at her, stunned.
—You mean… talk in our minds?
—Or even see each other. Remember when you first tried to transform, and accidentally saw me?
—Oh, right… You think maybe one day we can do it on purpose? —Asori's eyes lit up with excitement.
Mikan, who had been shamelessly eavesdropping, burst into mischievous laughter.
—Maybe you just need to get more intimate. Go beyond a kiss to strengthen the bond—then you might unlock new abilities.
Blair choked on air, her face blazing red. For a moment, she even imagined what going "beyond a kiss" would mean. She shivered and shook her head furiously.
—N-no, that's not it!
—What? —Asori asked, genuinely confused—. Do we need to use more Astral or something? Is that what you mean, Mikan?
Mikan collapsed to the ground laughing, clutching her stomach.
—Oh please, you're hopeless, Asori!
Blair covered her face with both hands.
—You idiot… —she muttered, though her heart pounded wildly.
Later, the group gathered at the notice board where the first-round tournament pairings had been posted. The air buzzed with participants' murmurs, mixing excitement and dread.
—Look, there we are. —Mikrom pointed at the parchment.
Asori barely paid attention. At the coliseum entrance, he spotted a familiar silhouette. Jason.
Blair saw him too. She hesitated, then finally stepped closer.
—Jason…
The young man from Donner glanced sideways at her. His expression was colder than ever, but something in his eyes seemed weary.
—Blair.
—Why are you still here? —she asked softly. —Will you stay?
Jason turned his gaze toward the coliseum.
—Even though that guy eliminated me… —he said, venom lacing his tone— I have contacts waiting for my reports. There's something I need to confirm.
Blair frowned.
—What?
He was silent for several seconds. At last, he spoke in a low voice.
—Something… that could change the course of the tournament.
He said no more. He stepped away, but paused briefly.
—Blair. —He looked at her seriously—. I'm sorry. For how I treated you before. You didn't deserve it.
Her eyes widened in surprise.
—Jason…
He forced a dry smile, almost broken.
—At least… seeing you smile lately makes me think maybe there's still some hope in all this.
Without waiting for her reply, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind a heavier unease than his apology itself.
Blair watched him go, her chest tight. From afar, Asori watched her too, uncertain what thoughts were running through her mind.
The tournament had only just begun… but the real battles were already being fought in silence.