[Skell]
Towering over us stood the replica of an impossible creature. The face and body of a deranged lion. A menacing scorpion stinger. And the wings of a bat, magnified to colossal size.
A manticore. If this was a real monster and not just a nightmarish concept from the darkest depths of Émile-Houdin's mind, I couldn't tell. All I knew was what I saw: a mix-and-match of the world's most frightening traits, recreated in the ever-changing shades of hardlight.
A beast we had to put down. Because if we couldn't take it together, what chance did we have against the Ordeals?
Yet… it didn't attack. Its leonine face regarded me with rage. Fury without action.
I wanted to stop and consider why. A useless waste of precious seconds, I figured. My time was better spent plotting its downfall.
But how can I make that happen? I performed what I hoped were intimidating whorls of the staff, the beast and I locked in an unnerving stare. Direct attacks would be stupid against something that hulking. Shadow Form would be useful… if these stupid lights weren't all over the arena! Hand of Decay, then? Can I even get close enough to- Niles?
Last I checked, the swordsman was by my side. Which was why I thought I saw double when I caught him creeping behind the hardlight monster. Somehow he slipped away from both our notice.
Or so I thought.
Clambering atop a box, Niles' blade gleamed a sly purple. He set his feet, prepared to leap off and carve into the beast's muscular hind legs.
A sudden swing of its thick tail cut that plan short - smashing through the box like papier-mâché and leaving the swordsman standing on nothing - all while its eyes didn't even glance his direction. He landed in the pile of wooden splinters, groaning, looking up to see the stinger arced in the air.
Pointed directly at him.
I left my scheming half-finished, spurred into action.
But if the manticore could see an attacker behind it, of course it'd see me. As I raced to prevent the plunge of its giant stinger, that attacked stopped entirely in favor of the monster rushing forward with speed contradicting its size, raking toward me with a dire claw.
A feint? Time slowed as the hardlight hooks ripped through the air. Already they were inches from my chest. Too late, I realized my mistake.
Corner of my eye, I saw Émile-Houdin. Their movements and flourishes hadn't ended with the beast's summoning. They were ongoing. Like Oliver's when guiding Windseeker. We weren't dealing with the speck of intelligence held by a constructed beast. This was direct control.
How did it know where Niles was? Émile-Houdin could see him just fine. Why lift its tail, just to drop it and go for me? Niles could've possibly avoided it. I couldn't avoid this.
I'd been played. All I could do was hope Émile-Houdin had the decency not to maul me into bloody-
"Vine Cling!"
Over bands of light emerged a vine latching tightly around the monster's forearm. The swipe was interrupted by the swordsman, pulling the vine taut with shaky arms and teeth gritted so hard I thought they'd chip.
"Gotcha… oversized… rainbow… kitten-freak…" his legs started to buckle.
Strong as Niles was, he couldn't hold forever. He wouldn't have to.
I sped past the arm, stopping face-to-fangs with the counterfeit abomination. Normally I'd have been daunted. Not then. Instead I lifted my staff with relief. Because somehow I'd forgotten:
I'm not alone!
An explosive strike whipped the manticore's rounded head. It recoiled upwards from my attack like it'd been snatched by the mane - the side of its face cracked and spilling cubes of hardlight.
Noticeable damage. But far from enough.
Jaws opened and swooped low for a man-sized bite. I was ready. Jumping high, I narrowly avoided its fangs… and made the mistake of not knowing where I'd land.
In extending its neck, though, I was blessed with a better landing spot than its gullet. I hit its golden mane and struggled not to slip. But as I got my bearings, I realized:
Claws. Stinger. Fangs. All useless, if I'm on its back!
Bracing on its head, I came down with a heavy slam. Then a second. A third. Cracks snaked further and further down its staggering head. From there, the manticore couldn't have been more vulnerable.
Until heavy flapping pounded from behind me.
And I started to rise.
Oh no no no no no! My eyes darted around.
"Purple!?" Niles stared slack-jawed at me, gaze steadily following our ascent.
Two options quickly perched themselves on my shoulders: jump down, or stay on the manticore's back? By the time I decided, I crouched shakily atop precarious "ground" - over thirty feet in the air. Meaning I really just had one option.
An option the monster really didn't appreciate.
Wind rushed past my ears as the manticore swooped through and around the heights of the cavernous arena - alternating between hues as it passed the many fluorescent lights below. We flew close to the rocky ceilings. Head-crushingly close.
Then we slowly descended. Our flight path came conveniently close to Émile-Houdin's cross-legged seat… "Pounding heart! Blazing veins!" they hailed through coned gloves. "Pardon the interruption - to put a damper on such a mood is my furthest desire. Yet if this is battle develops into more than you bargained for-"
"No!" pride spoke for me, as if I wasn't clutching onto the hardlight mane for dear unlife. "Ordeals won't hold back! Neither should you!"
"Ah. The answer I'd hoped for," they smiled from below. "Well, if your mind changes, always remember to-"
The rest I had to imagine. Rushing air smothered the rest of their words, and shrunk my world to the head of the flying beast. Unpredictable flight patterns formed a pit in the pit in my ribcage - its speed increasing as my grip loosened.
I've… gotta fight back! My right hand found a half-second of relative smoothness in the ride, and pinned down a more secure grip. Letting my other go on the offensive.
"Hand of- shade!
I thought I had a firm grasp. I didn't think the manticore would spin around to knock me off its head. Most of it I endured. But as its body evened out, my one-handed grasp finally slipped. I tumbled down its long back. Frenzied arms took on a mind of their own to latch onto something - anything - to keep the distant ground from meeting my very close face.
They succeeded. Looking up I was shocked to find my fingers wrapped around the base of the beasts' flapping wing.
I-I'm here! Then… I can still cast Hand of Decay!
Negative emotion quieted the turbulence around me. Wrath, sorrow, longing - the usual suspects - I called upon to fuel my dark magic. Along with them came another, unwanted emotion: shame.
What else would I feel, after coming up with a plan so stupid.
I stared at the death grip I had on the manticore's wing. That was my one handhold. Obliterate that, and I'd have nothing to grasp onto. My whole body for its wing - that trade even Niles wouldn't take.
But then, that just left me hanging. The monster could fly endlessly. Eventually I'd fall.
And as it went for another spin, tension shook my fingers. Hunkered close, I held on tight as my ceiling became the ground below. Panic drenched my face in those seconds. That I knew for sure, thanks to the reflection in the sword right under the wing.
Dug into the "flesh" of the hardlight beast was his blade: Niles' blade. Before the monster fully evened out, I spotted him from afar - hand extended, and a tongue stuck-out in concentration.
He threw it!?
There wasn't time to be impressed by his aim - or wonder what would've happened if he missed. Niles was clever enough not to throw away his "baby" just to cause superficial damage.
No, he must've had a reason to bring his weapon within my reach. I think I know why.
Completely decaying my handhold was a bone-headed move. But as I hurriedly snatched up the delivered blade, I figured that didn't mean my plan was entirely misguided. Before the manticore pulled another sudden spin or swoop I lifted my sword-hand and plunged it into the flapping wing.
The sword pierced it like a knife through an umbrella. Hardlight or not, it's membranous wing was exactly like a bat's: thin and frail - meant for maneuvering through the skies, not defense. With a hole in it, that maneuverability was put in instant jeopardy. And I was just getting started.
I stabbed every section of the wing I could reach, shredding the thing to tatters. For each cut I opened, the appendage flapped slower, caught less wind. The other worked to pick up the slack. But one wing can only carry so much.
Our flight turned erratic. Uncontrolled. Eventually we swerved toward the light-ringed floor. I knew we wouldn't be coming back up.
Immediately I braced for landing, but had just one hand to hold on with. Sinking the blade into the wing one last time, both hands latched on while wind stirred my hair. As we dropped the manticore swayed to one side.
The ground hit faster than expected.
Pain was jarring. The collision drove me hard into the spine of the manticore - my chest and jaw throbbing incessantly. Was anything broken? If it was, it was minor enough to heal in seconds. I groaned, shook off the remnants of my bones' complaints, and stood up to examine the havoc.
Most obviously, the hardlight monster crashed aground. Cracks ran along its right side from the landing, its right foreleg having taken the brunt of the fall - considering it'd been reduced to cubes of hardlight strewn across the arena.
Other parts didn't manage much better. Its right leg had seen better days, or given its "lifespan", minutes, and the left wing - the one I shredded - looked even worse than I left it: a long rip tore across it. And the sword I stuck inside was gone.
Jostled hard from the crash. Fell somewhere, I figured, reaching for my staff. My fingers found nothing.
The weapon was gone. Working backward, I realized it must've came loose during the landing too. Not like there was much time to secure it to my back, anyway. Before I started searching for both it and Niles, though, they found me.
"Purple!" Niles called from the fallen manticore's left side, sword and staff in each raised hand. "Still in one piece?"
"Mostly." I trekked down the giant body. "You?"
He tossed me the staff as I touched solid ground. "Me?" he laughed. "You're the one who rode that monster like a horse! That looked like a blast!"
"A blast!?" my voice cracked. "Throwing myself off the edge of the world would be more of a blast than that! And only slightly more dangerous! I thought I'd die!"
"C'mon, don't tell me it wasn't at least a little fun."
"…Well, I've never done anything like it before - I'll say that."
"Which means you liked it!" he pointed and chuckled.
Not just that. Fighting together - and actually being sorta good at it… underneath all the terror, this isn't so bad!
I shook my head, resisting the urge to laugh at myself. "Anyway, how come you never told me we'd be fighting a…" I made a nebulous motion toward the beast, "a that."
"Haven't even seen that kitten-freak before, mate. Never got this far. Told you, I got dizzy in the last round, then got thrashed."
He did say that, didn't he? Whatever that means.
"Lucky me," he grinned, "this time I had someone to watch my- Skell!"
Force pressed against my back. Hard. By the time my mind caught up I was peeling my face off a red light in the floor - a ways away from where I'd been standing.
Entering my view loomed a hardlight form: the shaky, half-broken body of the manticore. It'd swatted us like two gnats with the back of its remaining paw.
"Ouch! It's still kicking!?" Niles rubbed his jaw, rising nearby.
My back made a protracted pop. "Urgh. How'd we forget about the monster?"
"No time for asking questions. The thing's on its last legs. Let's finish it!"
I ignored the pain. "Right!"
This time I prepared to charge, but Niles didn't move to join me. No, completely unlike him, he stood motionless, eyes closed. He raised his blade.
Then, climactic words left his lips. "Searing Sword!"
Steadily his blade transformed from the grey of iron to the reddish-orange of metal taken straight from the forge. Black clouds emanated from the weapon, following it in billowy trails as he brandished it fearlessly. Heat soared.
Both around us, and within.
But Émile-Houdin's patience, while lenient, wasn't limitless. Arcing above us loomed the monster's giant stinger. A signal from them to us.
I made the first move. If Niles is gonna take things to the next level - so will I!
Lancing forward to meet my step came the stinger. Blocking something so huge would be impossible - I wasn't Amara, after all. Yet I was far from helpless.
Swiftly it thrust at my stomach. With practiced timing I forced my staff into the incoming stinger's side, redirecting its force past me. A golden parry.
"Niles!" I shouted.
"Way ahead of you!" he rushed from my right. The swordsman jumped overhead, dark fumes following his trajectory. Blade reared back.
And severed the outstretched tail with a red-hot blow. It dropped with a crackling heave, near-half of the appendage left useless on the ground.
The other half pulled back through the smog, its end charred black. A living monster would've been paralyzed by the pain. To the hardlight beast, though? This was just a setback. Using what was left of its broken body, it lunged for Niles with a vicious claw.
But the swordsman wasn't phased. Again he jumped - over the attempt to tear him down. Airborne, he shot back with a determined smile.
"Vine Cling!" He pointed his off-hand downward. A thorny vine hurled past his sleeve and latched onto the manticore's lumbering arm. With both forelimbs and a tail, this little maneuver might've been suicide. But injured as the monster was, well, Niles said it best. Or at least in a way thoroughly like him.
"Light burns like everything else - kitten-freak!" Yanking with all the force of one arm, Niles dragged himself to the monster's forelimb like a diving bird of prey - rolling into a smoking spiral with his smoldering blade in the other.
Fumes crashed into the floor and spewed skyward. A spirited swat of a glove, and they mostly dispersed. Revealing a hacked-off claw. And the gutsy swordsman.
Wow… That bragging about being an ace with the sword - it really was anything but a bluff…
But we weren't done yet. Crippled as it was, the monster still wasn't completely dismantled. It glared at us, doing its best to look menacing. But that was all it could do. That, and balance on its one good leg and halved forelimb.
I glanced at Niles, and him, me. A shared nod.
Then one last time, we drove ahead. Pushing off my leg and staff, I flew into a kick - the very same maneuver Amara proved was worthless. Except, she said, against a vulnerable enemy.
Against my boot the manticore's damaged face scrunched - jaw forced wide.
My head swelled just a little, then. Along with a couple other emotions, when Niles dove inside its open mouth.
"What in the Abyss!?" I dropped back onto my feet, watching as black fumes spilled from the monster's mouth. Close as I was, it didn't try to bite at me, or even move.
He… jumped inside? I shook off the disbelief. "Niles! Are you all right!?"
No response. Before I could shout again, the distinct fizzle of light being split reached my ears. The sound echoed repeatedly as the smog grew more concentrated, and the monster sank further to the ground. Defying every bone in my body… I considered delving in behind him.
Fumes then seeped from the beast's back.
"What?" I stared.
Thickening clouds rose over passing seconds, as if a widening gap released them. Exactly as I connected the dots, there was coughing.
I was quick to clamber up the hardlight beast's limp body. On top I neared the source, buried somewhere under the geyser of smoke.
"Niles! Do you hear m-"
A hand flew from the clouds onto my shoulder. But that wasn't what startled me - it was the hacking.
"Ugh," Niles stammered out, sputtering like he'd swapped lungs with a set from the nearest cemetery, "not my finest plan." He deactivated his art, sword returning to its normal state.
"Are you crazy! You're lucky you cut a way out before you choked on your own magic! Who jumps into the jaws of a giant… this?" I motioned to our feet.
"Well, that's not a fair question," he followed my gesture and coughed, "I'd wager most people haven't even met a giant 'this'."
"Whatever - are you gonna live? Do I need to cart you to a hospital?"
"That depends." His eyes slid from the ground to me, his smile smug. "Did I look cool?"
"Show off…" I sighed it like a cheeky curse. "You're totally fine, aren't you?"
"Ha! Much better than this overgrown kitty. Innards burnt to a crisp, limbs destroyed, body shattered - if this thing rises again, it'll have to be an undead rainbow, kitten, bat, scorpion… thing. Sun above," he muttered.
"Well, let's ask Émile-Houdin - make sure of it. And keep your guard up."
He nodded. We found a solid spot to jump down to. Once we touched ground though, the entire monster dissipated - not unlike the last wisps of Niles' clouds.
"Extraordinary showing after extraordinary showing!" called Émile-Houdin opposite of the arena, still seated like an attendee to their own show. "Mounting upon the flying beast? Superbly imaginative! Roasting the manticore within? Were it not a recreation, you two would dine for weeks! However, what makes a champion among men and women and everything in-between if not exclusivity?"
What are they on about? I gripped my staff. We are done, right?
"In other words," they made a performative hop onto their feet, "the peak has not the room for two giants. The final - secret - bonus round is this: Niles Hawthorne and Skell Valzo - dueling for all the multi-colored marbles! Without further ado, our final round begins now!"
Our eyes darted to one another. Fingers crept to hilts.
Then we broke to build distance.
I extended my staff, studying my surroundings, scouring for an advantage. "Don't think I've forgotten our tree-climbing race. You've spent too long with that win; it's about time I humbled you."
"That's right?" his blade fell into reverse-grip. "This time I won't hand you tips, Purple, I'll just school you! That fancy-schmancy staff might hit hard, but you can't hit the untouchable."
I scoffed, competition lighting my mettle aflame.
"Laugh now." He stabbed a thumb to the ground. "Cry later."
"You're going down, 'mate'." I dragged mine across my neck.
He crouched. I poised. Electricity charged the air around us.
Then I came to my senses. "Wait, what are we doing?"
Slowly Niles lowered his sword. "Huh?"
"Why are we fighting each other? This is just pointless - we already won!"
"….Dunno? My blood was running hot, and I hadn't run out of steam yet. Then we were told to fight, and that sounded like fun."
Told to…
I turned to stare daggers at Émile-Houdin, whose eyes spread wide.
—————————————————————————————————-
"My humblest apologies," Émile-Houdin bowed to us both. "I've simply never seen another combatant with half the innovational capacity as you two! I couldn't help but hope for a fourth showing - yet with my greatest creation outmatched, I could only think to witness how you stacked yourselves up against one another!"
"…Thanks?" I think. Though, guess I can't blame them too much - not like Niles and I weren't caught up in the moment too.
"Gotta say, mate," said the swordsman, "you really like to watch us fight. No judgement, but you're not gonna remember this next time you use the bathroom, will you?"
…He really just asked that?
"I beg your pardon?" Émile-Houdin's showman persona - assuming it was a persona - slipped for just a moment. "Heavens, no - I'm not some… voyeuristic deviant! I am a performer! One whose well of inspiration - while deep - is at all times searching for new sources! Even performers, you see, like to be amazed themselves now and then!"
Before we could speak - not that I was in any hurry to contribute to the conversation - they huffed. "At any rate, I'd like to further expand on that word."
"Voyeur?" Niles asked.
"Performer!" corrected the owner. They extended a finger. "I'd like it to be said: you two would make an excellent pair in the world of theatrics. May it never be, but if the worst occurs and the Ordeals prove too lofty a challenge - you two could find stable employ here in the Revelry. With me, even, if you'd so prefer."
"Hm," Niles crossed his arms. "Appreciate the offer, but I need rounds by the cartload. Only place to get that is from the Order's juicy coffers."
"Yeah," I agreed. "Say I just wanted solid work - I'd consider it. But there's some things only the Templars can give me."
They nodded. "Alas. I do understand, however. The Templar Order does appear to have it all. Except one trait, perhaps: that spark of creativity. Change. And but a modicum of chaos. Hopefully with your induction, that might no longer be. But enough idle chatter. You've conquered my arena; the least I can do is see you off."
—————————————————————————————————
I laid back, and looked to my side. "…Niles. We're idiots."
"Yeah, we are," he didn't hesitate, legs spread wide across the bench. "But what's got you saying so?"
"Well, for starters, the reason we didn't spar in the combat center was so we wouldn't get hurt right before the Ordeals."
"Mhmm?"
"Then we went and fought a bunch of hardlight men and that freakish manticore thing right after! What if Émile-Houdin didn't care about our safety? Or if they slipped up? Abyss, even ignoring them, what if we did? We almost sparred anyway over a stupid competition!"
Worse, our enemies were constructs of light magic. Somehow, I barely considered the obvious dangers of that. Beyond lucky I was to only ever take hits on the outside, where armor and glamour covered my bones. Had hardlight ever reached them - like with Radiant Arc or Rejuvenation… well, besides the torturous pain, I'd have a lot of explaining to do.
"Skell," Niles bounced his foot in the vibrant grass. "You worry more than my Ma."
My eyes narrowed. "This is the kind of bloody scenario you should be more worried about."
Especially since you're the one who can't regenerate…
"Eh. Maybe. But we're here. Still breathing." He wheezed. "Within reason."
"You know what? I blame you. Whenever you're around, I stop thinking and just - I don't know - go with the tide. Do whatever sounds fun."
"You're… welcome?" Niles' face scrunched up.
"Thanks," I told him. "But also: screw you."
He paused a moment, then snickered. So did I.
"Seriously though," I said, "we can't goof around tomorrow. No unnecessary risks. Nothing excessive. We go in, do everything in our power to pass, and become Templars. Any mistakes will cost us."
"Yeah, you're probably onto something. Whatever we gotta do, we only get the one shot."
"Right. And more than no funny business tomorrow - there shouldn't be more funny business today. The Ivy Corner's parks are the perfect place for a lot of things - but not training. Let's head back to the combat center. Still plenty of hours in the day to practice. This time, preferably on dummies that don't fight back."
"Whaaaat? Alreeeeeady?" Niles complained. "Didn't we just train?"
I rose. "That was the breakfast training. There's still brunch training, and lunch training, and snack training, then dinner training, and after-"
"Hold on, hold on - why are they all named after eating?"
"Well, er…"
That's what Amara calls them…
"Know what - doesn't matter. Happy you've been taking training so serious - but why spend our last day sweating more when we can kick back?"
"There's no reason to relax. You don't need me to explain why we should be in flawless shape before the Ordeals. Besides, I'm not overworked. Or stressed."
At least anymore than usual.
He threw an arm over the back of the bench. "Mate, you don't need a reason to rest. Plus, there's something I've been wanting to ask you."
Normally, I'd agree - if coming up short didn't mean at least another year as a numb corpse. But I buried that thought. "You have? What is it?"
"Well, you remember our chase with that slimeball thief? Boiled frogs, falling cabbage, hay, sewer crap, a grandma-"
"Yeah, I was there."
"But you weren't there - in my head. That whole time, I was glad to help, obviously. Though I couldn't help but wonder: why's Purple so upset about a stolen hand mirror?"
A wince almost reached my face. "It wasn't just the mirror. He took my rounds, too."
"True," he admitted. "Still, when you shouted to the crowd about your missing stuff, you asked about your mirror. Not the thousand mirrors worth of gold."
…Shade. He's got me there.
"Look, I'm not trying to pry," he promised. "I just forgot to ask before, and somehow my head hasn't forgotten since, small potatoes as it is. Been thinking if that mirror's more than just a mirror, if you get me. If it's something personal again though, I don't hafta kno-"
"It's from my mom," I said. "A gift."
"Your Ma?" his eyes widened.
My words weren't the truth. Cynthine was anything but a mother - even if what she gave me was a similar chance at life - and I knew squat about my real one. Still, I'd told him a number of lies and kept multiple secrets. If he was really a friend, he deserved something real.
After all, my words didn't feel completely untrue, either.
In a rare moment, his habitual fidgeting stopped. "Makes sense then, why you'd fight so hard for it back. Only so many ways to connect to someone once they're gone."
A statement I couldn't have agreed with more, after I got to thinking. Mom, Dad, anyone I once loved came to mind as fuzzy silhouettes, and I wished I'd something - anything to remember them by. Even if they were long dead… a memory was better than nothing.
Niles turned quiet. "Maybe I'm pushing my luck. But is it a secret, what happened to her?"
I hesitated. My mind went to work. And I sat back down beside him. "…She disappeared."
"She did? I thought you said she died?"
"That's just it," I sighed. "I don't know if there's much difference. Just woke up one day and she wasn't there. If she's dead or not, I don't know. But it's been a long time." I pulled the mirror from my pocket, a frown spreading across its glassy surface. "There's a strong chance I'll never see her again."
Niles rested a glove on my back. "Have hope. You're holding onto that gift. Could be you can hold onto her again too, one day." He stopped to chew on his words. "I… don't know how to say this gentle-like. But I guess you could call me jealous. When Ma died, she didn't leave a single thing. At least nothing I care for."
My eyes darted to his. "Y-your mom's gone too?"
He nodded, normally easy-going eyes turned dead still. "A couple months ago. Had better days, let me tell you."
"She… I'm sorry, Niles. I had no idea."
Niles laughed often. This was the first time it'd ever felt less than natural. "Suppose I did a bang-up job not letting it show, huh? Would've told you under that tree, when you told me about how we were - ehh - two peas in a pod, let's say. But why make things about me?" he shrugged.
He looked at my face, and nudged me. "Oh, lighten up, Purple! No point in me bawling over what's already ancient history - and that goes double for you feeling sad for my sake."
"Y-yeah, all right," I looked away. "But… what happened to her? Er, if that's something up for conversation."
Niles took the glove off my back, and started picking at it. "'Course it is. I'll make a long story short: Ma led some bad people to our village. They made a rotten mess of the place. Scared the kids. Did worse to their parents. Got to me. And right before things really got ugly, Ma finally stepped in. Wiped the pricks out with her own hands… and took herself with 'em. How's that for a story?"
Unsurprisingly, I was speechless. If not for what he was actually saying, his tone would've tricked me into thinking this was just a funny little anecdote with a bad punchline. Not something real.
But I couldn't sit there in frozen silence forever. "I… don't even know where to start. She led them there?"
"Not on purpose. It wasn't really her fault."
"O-oh. I thought you blamed her. For all that."
Niles seemed to find the idea amusing. "Nahh. I'm not mad at Ma. Could never be. She was the best. Sung me lullabies even after my tantrums. Taught me how not to light up my eyebrows with my own fire magic. Always said she was proud. She might've been the reason those people showed up. But she's not what caused everything. Get me?"
…No. Not in the slightest.
Somewhere between a few and a few million questions beat at my lips. He'd left me stranded in a sea of ambiguity with nothing but a piece of driftwood to float on. These bad people he spoke of? How his mom led them there? And what killed them both? All skipped over.
Niles played it off as just an honest stroke of bad luck, but I'd be oblivious not to notice something still felt off. Delicacy was first on my mind as I chose my next words.
But then, as always, the swordsman was quicker than me.
"I know what you're thinking: 'this guy's headband's on too tight. He's treating this all like it's no big deal, when it's gotta be.' Well, it is a big deal. It's Ma. Aching about a loss like that, I get - everyone's different. But you can trust in me Purple. I'm a toughie. You've seen that."
While far from everything on my mind, I had to admit, he had an uncanny knack for intuiting my thoughts. I studied him. His face was full of color and vigor again, like it never lacked those traits for even a second.
"…I do trust you. You know I do."
He smiled wide. "Then let's leave behind all the doom-and-gloom. Ah - know what? I'm getting antsy all of a sudden. Maybe sitting around this quiet ol' park was a better idea in my head. Why don't we go with yours?"
"You mean practice? At the combat center?"
"Mhmm. We'll do that light work you were on about. Sharpen ourselves. Whaddaya say?"
It was less what I'd say, and more what I'd ask. But the longer I thought, the more I reconsidered. The topic changed - if pretty suddenly - and I wouldn't want to be the guy who forced the conversation back to the death of his friend's mother.
Besides, nothing seemed to phase the guy. Nothing at all. And I did trust him.
Maybe… some things are better left in the dark. I should know that better than anyone.
"…Nothing's stopping us," I stood up, and Niles with me. "Let's become Templars - dive into the next stage of our lives."
He beamed and raised a glove high. "Here or not, we've got two Ma's to make proud. Be their two little heroes, yeah?"
"For sure." My own glove arced low. They met, and for a transient moment the quiet park was seized by the sound of two young challengers stepping into the realm of legends, history at their backs.
Mom. Dad. My past. Everything. I will find you all. And I will live again.
Count on it.
City of Eternal Day Arc - End