Yachit sat down under a flame of the forest tree, her form hidden in the shadow of its blazing petals.
Her expression was, contrary to her usual temper, tranquil. Her alignment with the nature around her had the character of some romantic painting, like she was a young maiden waiting for the leaves of autumn to wake her from a summer langour.
The figure who appeared darkened this summer serenity. He was decked out in rags, and his long and tangled hair spoke of the proscription of his kind by the Earth.
He did not belong here.
Still, the maiden accepted him with a smile worthy of the season.
"Greetings," he said dryly, though his mind went back to the events of the morning.
As he had sat down for another meal after his great victory, he was presented with a letter by his hostess.
He received it gratefully and, after reading it, asked her what she thought.
It was from the Troll servant he had crossed paths with days ago. She was challenging him to an honour duel.
Duels were naturally a common occurrence in this realm, but an honour duel was taking things a little further.
This was done when the challenger felt that they'd been offended in such a way that could only be satisfied in the ring… and by blood.
"This is one of the better results," she said, after reading it herself.
He nodded in agreement.
Those of higher castes generally did not vouchsafe osu the dignity of an honour duel. If the offence was grievous enough, execution was the preferred solution to such a creature's daring, and even if it wasn't, that could still be arranged.
"I can deal with it if you want," the heiress suggested carelessly, handing it back to him.
He thought it over for a second.
By the laws of the land, it was indeed a grave offence for an osu to harm a noble's servants, and the girl was surely well within her rights to seek restitution through a duel. On the other hand, the Lady Chukwudifu could certainly suppress the matter if she wished, but if the Dari third young master was insistent, it could expand to messy proportions.
He shook his head slightly, rubbing the letter between his fingers and setting it ablaze.
"She can't defeat me," he said matter-of-factly, with no indication of ego.
"So it wasn't a total failure," she said with a smile, noting the trick he had just pulled off.
"Indeed," he said, matching her own smile. "I can command some of that heat I felt in the furnace. My body is still adjusting to it, though."
"Want to push it back till you're done, then?"
"You're always so considerate, young mistress," he said, rising before the meal arrived and bowing to her. "But some things ought to be concluded swiftly."
He was now here with her.
In the arena of a combat academy, which the opponent had chosen and Chaina had verified as neutral ground.
The pair stared one another down.
"You came," she said with a smile.
"I had no reason not to; I do not fear you," he said dryly.
He had decided to be candid this time around, contrary to his habit of innuendo and flattery. Such behaviour felt demeaning to both fighters on the eve of such a battle.
"But I do fear you," she said, her face twisting wryly, contradicting the freshness of the atmosphere.
He cocked his brow at her.
"It's a long story," she said with a smile, indicating a container in front of her.
She opened it to reveal juicy fried tofu cubes.
"They're a province delicacy," she said easily, inviting him to join her.
"If you eat with dogs," he began, quoting a popular proverb, "you'll get used to the taste of faeces."
"I stand admonished," she said with a smile before closing the flask.
Was this the same person from a few days ago?
He asked himself that, though he did not rush her. He preferred deliberateness to haste when he could help it.
"The way the Elves tell it," she began unprompted, "they're the only perfect creatures made by the gods."
"The Fae were powerful but unwarlike, and the Lycans were just mad dogs made to clean up their mistakes, Goblins and Trolls were only substitutes after the Elves turned their back on the Goddess, and so and so forth."
She aimed a subtle glance at him, wondering if he had any reaction to these things.
He returned the gaze but betrayed nothing by it.
She felt a small chill run through her, but instantly mastered it – there was no room for fear here.
"That's how they tell it," she continued, "but the truth is that they've always been chasing the Fae… and they've always been chasing you."
He was slightly piqued now and sat down across her, taking a swig from his personal flask as he did. This was partially to put her at ease so that she would get everything she wanted off her chest… it would be her last chance to.
"They envied the magic of the Fae and the bodies of the Lycans," she continued. "Despite the fact that they had iron to subdue one and silver to conquer the other, they've always felt inferior to their individual power."
"That was until the Humans arrived."
Elijah was quite aware that Humanity collaborated with the Elves more than any other of the various races of Reigina, but he still wondered what exactly their coming had to do with the conversation.
"When they showed them the power of array technology, they saw a path to surpassing the Fae. They also turned their back on the Goddess and adopted Human laws and customs, for the only thing they could truly worship was power, and the Humans made them powerful."
Is there any other way? He asked himself, sighing internally.
Power was magnetic. In whatever form it came, it preached its captivating gospel and made devout disciples. Disciples who gave everything on its altar.
"They didn't stop there, though," she continued, "they traded extensively with them and gave Humans their first real foothold in the land for secrets and technology and trinkets and anything they could lay their hands on. They truly went mad in those days.
"It was in this madness for strength that they discovered ancient texts from a long-extinct race known as the Dragons. These texts detailed a dangerous method of heating metal and other materials to reveal their true nature and then imbibing the resulting concoction. In other words, alchemy."
Alchemy.
He said the last part of her sentence together with her internally.
Not this again.
"The result was… disastrous.
"Dragons were able to achieve power and enlightenment because of their unique fire breath or internal furnaces.
"Thousands of powerful and talented Elves, thinking they could crack the code left behind by these creatures, perished or received grave injuries. Even the Elven thirst for power was cooled at this, and they called an end to the practice.
"You must be tired of this history lesson," she said apologetically. "It does have a point, though… I'm trying to answer your question."
He didn't recall asking one.
"When I told you I was afraid of you… It seemed as though you asked why I was doing this."
"Take your time," he said. "I know that you're no coward, and I have no appointments."
She smiled gratefully and continued.
"As you can imagine," she said, "the relationship between the Elves and Humans soured as a result of this. Although the Humans did warn them that they could not use the practices of the Dragons, who possessed an internal furnace which gave them the ability to breathe fire and bring out the true essence of any material through this heat."
They've definitely not changed in all this time, Elijah thought, feeling that it was completely in keeping with them to fall out with a benefactor over their own refusal to heed their warnings.
"The invention of the Red Governor changed everything, though," she said sensationally. "Red Engine Crystal did not exist outside Reigina, but the Humans got their hands on it in large amounts during their trade with the Elves, who only knew of a limited number of uses for it."
"This energy source further cemented their influence in the land, and the rift between the two healed. It also gave them a new direction for their efforts at dominance… you."
"Me?"
"Lycans as a whole, I mean. They saw that you were able to take in the breath of Heaven and Earth, which the Dragons described as Qi, despite not possessing an internal furnace."
Red energy coalesced around her form with these words.
"These realisations gave birth to Ninefold Ignition, or what you know simply as cultivation."
Three points of light emerged on her person as she spoke.
"Our eight extraordinary meridians draw in the breath of Heaven and Earth in a painful and unnatural process. Our reward is physical enhancement beyond all our peers… just like you, we've learned to surpass our natural limits."
He leaned in towards her at this, though his face still hid the contents of his inner world behind its bland expression.
If one saw them from a distance, they would think they were a pair of friends conversing.
This explains a lot, he thought.
The Elven obsession with his race and the scarcity of martial arts – Lycans were designed to undergo mutation and enhancement. Artificially forcing growth was something that would carry no small cost.
"Your kind is at the source of this power I want to control. You're the ultimate grinding stone!"
Elijah got up and turned away.
The suddenness of his actions shocked his would-be opponent, and she rushed to stop him after a short delay.
"If testing your vessel is what you're here for," he said without turning back, "then leave!"
She paused for a second, shocked by the authority his voice carried.
"The mettle of a Lycan can't be used for training. If you fight me, you'll die!"
"I'm prepared for that!"
But am I?
The question plagued him.
He had imagined that a personal grudge was at the core of her animosity and that, therefore, she could not be dissuaded by mere talk. Finding out it was something this petty, though, he hesitated.
After all, he had never shed mortal blood before.
It's not like I have a choice.
Despite his attempt to leave, he wasn't in a negotiating position. If he didn't fight now, he'd have to do it down the line. Either that, or throw it on the young mistress, but he wasn't prepared to do that.
He turned back at this young girl and felt genuine pity.
As someone who had recently been given a desire for life in its fullest, to see a person who chased death like a hound was disheartening.
"If you fight me, you'll die."
The words were gentler now, but just as persuasive.
A part of her wanted to call the whole thing off.
Her instincts communicated to her that she should do what he said.
Yield.
Forget this foolish ambition.
Live.
"I… must prove myself worthy of the sword."
He looked at her straight on and walked to one side of the ring, a little way off.
It was about to begin.