I held the sword in my calloused hands, feeling the sharp edge as small beads of blood escaped from fresh lines on my fingers cut from the blade. I felt the soft, yet rough hilt composed of fine quality leather as I gripped it tightly in my hand.
You could say it was slightly painful to grip a sword as tightly as I was.. But I was in no mood to linger over those thoughts. The sword, although sharp and cold, had weight added to it, as if someone snuck in a mound of steel in the sword whilst I wasn't looking.
And the sword was damn heavy, it took everything I had to not drop the sword right onto my foot, edge first.. Or maybe I should try to find an excuse to not participate in the "group bonding", and by bonding I mean being swallowed together by a behemoth who was probably...
Peckish.
I shuddered. How on Earth was I supposed to kill some beast like that? One so many Scholars died sheepishly to.
I forced out one single, slow practise swing, just enough to feel the familiar, raw essence crawl up my arm in an eerily calm fashion.
I waited, pointing the sword downwards, edge against the surface of the floor. An exasperated breath left my mouth, the condensed air rising to my eyes before scattering.
But nothing happened.
I exhaled an inspiration that was building up.
Nothing at all.
So it was true that the Script had stopped clapping... And I mean literally, if you even swung a sword, the script would praise you with a shower of compliments, like a cheeky "Well Struck!" message, or clapping, I mean, it actually played a little clapping animation with the sound and everything! Of course, this wouldn't be ideal in a fight, which the Script understood too and stayed silent. The one time you could use a little hint of what abomination was currently trying to rip your body to shreds.
I sheathed my sword; it shut firmly with finality, and a light breeze swept out the scabbard, displaced by the sword I had grown close to. Over the last year, I had tenaciously stuck with the same weapon, Zephryntis, in hopes of creating a strong relation with it.
Gesturing my hand in an upward motion, my fingers waiting in anticipation at the empty air in front of me. A flicker of light emerged from seemingly nowhere, and the stats panel I had come to loathe appeared.
[Weapon name: Zephryntis]
[Rank: Ascendant]
[Essence tier: II]
[Chemistry with user: 10%]
Damn it, damn it all...
I stared dejectedly at the mocking 10% chemistry, my fists clenched in a shade of blood red that had to be considered unhealthy.
Ten percent.
After a year of swinging this thing like my life depended on it.
Ten, damn, percent.
Chemistry was how much the weapon resonated with you, like a bond between friends. 10% was like an awkward situation sat next to someone in class you don't know, and most certainly they don't want to talk to you.
Lamenting the low chemistry, I judged the other blades on the shelf, despite my blood, sweat, and the tears I mixed into Zephryntis, it only acknowledged my existence as an idiot mindlessly swinging it.
As my thoughts spiralled into what would happen if I decided to change my weapon, a sharp pain brought me back, on my neck, a searing heat pulsated, the spot was my sponsor mark.. Clearly, my sponsor thought I was spending far too much time here, and was cruelly prompting me to the bloodshed that was nearing by.
Cursing, I picked up my pace as I waited at the foot of the lift. I surveyed the several options on the buttons, the cafeteria for a luxurious yet strictly nutritious meal after training at one of the multitude of different training grounds, and they were split via your rank. Mundane children preparing for their sponsor were on the higher levels, while Scholars prepped deeper underground, so as not to let their duels disturb the usual struggle of human life. I pressed the button corresponding to my rank, a promising but not fully fledged Static.
Stepping inside, I breathed in the aroma permeating the lift, and I decided to collect my scattered thoughts. Ignoring the pressure change, the jolt while moving upward, the hum of the magic system flowing through the stupidly complex mechanics of the lift being moved up.
As the lift slowly came to a stop on my floor, I felt the pressure release as the doors whirred open, a sharp hissing of the machinery relaxing after pulling itself up the many floors.
Fixing my facial expression, I put on a cold stare, no sign of weakness cracked my features, and grabbed the hilt of Zephyntis as I stepped forward,
Unfortunately, I tripped on the slight elevation from the lift and the floor, perfectly ruining the "mysterious" front I put on.
A stark figure stepped into view. I grimaced after realising who it was, trying to move in the opposite direction before Jak-
"Where you going, princess?"
Inwardly, I cringed, "Princess", a title I had gained at a young age that haunted me through adolescence, possibly the worst time ever for an embarrassing title.
"Nice entrance, princess. You practising for our next duel? That is, if you don't duck me again."
I sighed deeply. Throughout my many years practising as an awakened, and even before becoming one, I had known Jak through it all; he had been by my side, teasing me without end.
"Just testing gravity," I responded as calmly as I could, shifting from foot to foot.
"Already starting a fight without us?" Jak was eyeing the blood that was plastered on my hand, the one I had cut whilst testing Zephryntis out, and he couldn't hide it, Jak could never hide his concern behind those daft eyes of his.
"Just the sword biting at my hand," I replied, wiping the smears of blood on my leather tunic. I winced inwardly, gritting my teeth together as the cut opened further by the rough surface of my protective layer, the pain sharpening through my hand, clawing at my mind.
Jak snorted, clearly amused by my descriptive story.
"The sword's got opinions too, huh? I thought you two were best friends after a year of swinging it like there was no tomorrow?"
He leaned in closer, squinting at the cut with a studious face which did not fit his usual daft self.
"That's a fresh cut, you practising for the end of our lives or just mad at Zephryntis today?"
"Testing gravity," I muttered, pulling my arm behind myself so Jak couldn't see it again. "Again."
Jak laughed far too loudly, too bright, especially considering that our next adventure spelt clear 'doom'. "Nice, real nice. Keep that energy when the echoes start chewing on us. Maybe gravity won't need testing as you get knocked down by a lustful abomination." He clapped me on the shoulder. Hard enough to make my bones shudder. I tightened my grip on Zephryntis so as not to let gravity pull the sword down. "Come on, princess. Let's not keep the rest waiting. They're probably already crying."
Putting one foot in front of the other, I paced behind Jak as he led me to the others, who stood on the other side of a large corridor that led into the launch room. Reaching the end of the corridor, Jak gestured me through.
Emerging through the arched gateway, the first to come by to view was Seraphina.
Though her back was facing us, her determination clearly shone the brightest; it seemed that, unlike the others, she seemed to actually believe we had a chance.
While others panicked either inwardly or outwardly, she stood as a guardian, making final preparations for our suicide mission. Her graceful weapon, Moonlight Shard, glowed an ever-present chilling hue of silver
I was mesmerised by her attitude and her manner of speech.. Nothing else, at all!
Feeling a gaze on her, she turned to meet the pair of eyes; a cold demeanour sat on her face.
"Kaelen," She addressed me.
This was my cue to speak, yet no words made their way out. Amused by my lack of an answer, she jutted in before I could even think of something to say.
"Careful, Princess," she said, her voice cutting through the hum arising in the launch room. "If you spend that much time staring at things that are out of your league, you're going to trip over the lift again. Besides, I don't think your sword would appreciate you trying to build Chemistry with someone else. Not when you're already failing so miserably with the one you've got."
Jak let out a sharp, barking laugh behind me, the sound echoing off the metal lockers.
"Sheesh, someone get a damn medic before Kaelen tests gravity out one last time!"
A slight tinge of red shaded my cheeks as I twisted to Jak, my eyes were cold daggers practically bouncing off his bolstered body.
"Save the stares for the beasts, Kaelen. I'm sure they would do more damage than you with Zephryntis." With this, Seraphina walked off, Moonlight Shard glowing an ever more ethereal glow. But Kaelen wasn't taking an insult to his face; he bit back.
Taking one deliberate step forward, enough to close the gap between us, I looked over my hand, the blood still welling up through the slice. "At least Zephryntis has the decency to draw blood when it's disappointed in me," My voice low and edged, "Unlike Moonlight Shard, who, by the way, only has the capability to attract moths, much like its owner."
I let the silence sit before abruptly breaking it. Seraphina stopped mid-step, turning her head to face me, ice layering her beak facial, sharp and unyielding. Moonlight Shard glowed a darker shade of silver.
"Your Moonlight Shard just glows pretty and pretends it's better than everyone else. Must be exhausting, carrying all that shine when the only thing it's ever killed is a moth."
Jak let out another low, barking laugh that echoed off the metal lockers. "Ouch. The princess grew teeth," And awkwardly paused, noticing the clear tension permeating the launch room.
Seraphina didn't move; she didn't draw Moonlight, she didn't come back with another witty insult to bite back, she simply looked at me.
She truly looked at me, her gaze turning so sharp it made my cut from Zephryntis seem like child's play.
"Decency?" She whispered, though her voice wrapped around my ears. "You think a weapon wounding its wielder is a sign of character, Kaelen? You're simply bleeding because you picked a weapon that was far beyond you, much like your taste in people."
She took an assertive step closer, and I could discern the individual cuts on her face, scattered across her features. I could practically taste the blood from her mouth on her breath.
"As for attracting moths-" Her eyes pierced through my bravado, "Only a bright light can lead a group of fools forward," Lifting her hand to point at me, she leaned in, closer still, her voice dropping to a hiss that felt like a blade against my throat. "Moths are at least drawn to something real, Kaelen. Something that can hold its own, not just borrow its failing family heritage. If you want to keep playing 'Prince' in the dark, do it away from me. I don't plan on dying because you were too busy arguing with your own equipment."
With that, she turned on her heel, letting me stand in my own silence.
The rest of the group instinctively looked around. I saw Eulka untying her shoelaces, just to tie them again, her bow, Winter Frost surveying the floor beneath it. Ezra tried to polish the tip of his spear with a lint cloth and somehow managed to pierce through it, rendering the cloth into 2. His spear, Summer Riptide, glowed pink, mirroring its owners embarressment, and Jak himself stared at me in disbelief.
"See, I knew you could bite.. But you're sure that it's best to poke Seraphina, considering that she won't heal you if you get ripped by a nasty beast?"
Suddenly, a bright light filled the adjacent gateway. It grew to a blue-ish hue that engulfed the entire launch room before promptly following Seraphina through the portal. I glanced at Jak,
"She poked first."
But I couldn't help but shake off the feeling that I had done something wrong.
Worse still, I couldn't shake the way her voice had wrapped around my ears, as if it belonged there. Or the way the room felt colder after she walked away. But I had to walk through that portal, I mean, my sponsor mark was practically burning a hole through my neck!