A Blade That Doesn't Rush
Selena rose tall inside the ring.
Still.
Composed.
A blade sat in her grip - no motion, no warning, simply there. As if meant to be. As though time itself remembered it that way.
A hush moved across the open space, tugging light threads of her pale hair into motion. Fabric swayed near her skin, grazing it like breath barely heard at dawn.
She didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Yet when she stepped forward -
A shift passed through the space near her. Quiet, but impossible to ignore.
Blaise sat on the opposite side, his eyes staying on her without a sound.
Then he smiled.
Easygoing, courteous - yet his gaze stayed alert.
"Junior Sister Selena," he said, raising his sword slightly in greeting, "please guide me in battle later."
A hush fell, his grin shifting just slightly, now edged with something harder to name.
"…Don't embarrass me too much."
Laughter bubbled up among those sitting close by.
It sounded like modesty.
But everyone knew -
