"I feel sick." Was the first thing Kayson mumbled out with his face pressed against the floor of their dorm when they got back. The entire walk impossibly heavy.
From the doorway Huey glanced at the deflated body of his friend with mushrooms growing out. Putting away his bag, he went to squat beside the face-planted Kayson and patted his head apologetically.
"Sorry, what do you want?"
Kayson (somehow) shrugged. "Mm.. I can't think of anything right now."
"Then how about three favors? I do owe you a lot." Huey proposed, propping up three fingers. For nobility, favors aren't a simple run of a mill thing to just casually hand out like charity, so this should be adequate.
Turning his head, Kayson squinted up at him miserably and acquiesced, "Ok." His scowl loosening up with pessimistic acceptance.
Huey helped Kayson up while shouting encouragement that went from one ear through the next. Understandable since he needs to fight Sorin tomorrow, even though it's just a spar. He does not want to be sent flying like Kade yesterday and chances are no strong heroines will save him.
Huey scrutinized Kayson carefully. Now very desperately wanting to turn back time and slap his impatient self in the face. Why couldn't he just wait? Patience is a virtue!
Kayson sighed and dragged a palm over his face.
"I'm gonna die..."
"You're exaggerating, it's a light spar without magic and Sorin is at his weakest in the plot right now. Not to mention you're plenty strong yourself. You'll be fine."
"And he at his weakest is still a generational prodigy who sent the prince flying." Kayson sniped back.
"And you're a close target in the prodigy poll who defeated a sea monster. Calm down, it's not like you're aiming to win, just last long enough so you won't embarrass yourself."
"That doesn't help." He moued.
"Ok well," crossing his arms, a dim light ball lit up above Huey's head. "Want to practice?"
Kayson tilted his head.
Huey smiled wryly. "I barely ever won, but I did fight with Sorin a couple times and followed his life through the novel. So I'm pretty familiar with his fighting habits, I can tell you andâ"
"Let's do it!" Kayson cried out with vigor, fists clenched.
"Alright, but..."
"?"
"Me simply telling you wouldn't work, for these types of stuff you're gonna have to actually experience it."
Kayson looked at him like he was a fool, he made a grimace. "I can't go to him and ask if I can fight him to practice for our fight tomorrow."
Huey rolled his eyes. "I obviously know that, what I meant was that I try and replicate the moves and you practice responding to it."
Kayson was skeptical. "You? Are you sure you can imitate him? I know you're the ex-villain and all that, but I doubt a couple months' with Mr. Joseph can substitute for all the years you missed as Elijah."
"No not at all," he said matter of factly. "But it's better than nothing."
"Well if you put it that way..." Slowly, he nodded. "So where do we go?"
The other thought a bit before outstretching a hand. "Give me your watch," he ordered.
Without questioning, Kayson took off the artifact and handed it to Huey, watching as he began fiddling with the holographic feature.
"What are you doing?" He asked, and Huey paused to look at him with smiling eyes.
"I'm making an appointment in the club's private training rooms."
He raised a brow, such short notice. "What if they don't accept?"
Huey tutted, what brainless fool would the managers of the combat club be if they declined someone from the four knight houses? Softly, he spoke.
"They will."
â¦â§
"Woah.."
Kayson exclaimed upon opening the door. The private training room, although smaller than the general one, was spacious enough he could freely practice his bladework without worrying about knocking over anything. One of the walls was a reinforced mirror, in the center of the room was a court used for practice, fitness machines in one corner, archery targets and dummies on a wall, a weapon rack, and other knick knacks similar to the ones outside. Anything missing was stored behind the storage room on the far end of the room.
He moved towards the spotless mirror, curiously putting a finger on. The gap between his finger and reflection wasn't very big, implying it was enchanted with charms and magic. In the reflection he could see Huey begin stretching so he left to join him. The stretch and warm up session lasted for around ten minutes before they were each stationed opposite each other on the court and wielding a practice sword.
Kayson turned the weapon around in his hand. It felt too light compared to what he was used to and it didn't fit his palm right, but he could make do. He raised his head.
Huey was similarly inspecting the sword, he swung it around a bit in an effort to familiarize with it. The red eyed youth called out first.
"I'll teach you as we fight." He informed him to which Kayson gave a thumbs up of approval. Once they both got into a stance, the silent countdown between them began.
Neither of them were very tense, used to being sparring partners under the tutelage of Joseph Kartlov. However, unlike before where their objective was to beat each other and test out their progress, this time it was to learn.
Huey cleared out unnecessary thoughts and focused. Remembering how each of Sorin's strikes looked and felt. How smoothly the bladework connected each and every swing, the speed, strength, and force of it. His mind traced every sentence that described the protagonist's sword art. He then remembered the little habits he'd take advantage of to throw Sorin into a disadvantage, each little detail in the book, he breathed in the air which smelled like a newly opened gym.
And as the minute hand ticked to eight, Huey rushed forwards. His blade collided vertically against Kayson's who successfully parried it.
Then, "He'd slide the blade slightly below yours and strike diagonally upwards, knocking your stance off, leaving you full of openings."
Taking advantage of the opening he created, Huey twisted his wrist and jabbed Kayson's chest with the hilt of the sword, knocking him along with his breath away.
"However the latter move will depend on whether or not he'll have time to turn the sword, so if you manage to lock his sword during the diagonal slash you should be fine." He jumped a couple steps back and gave Kayson time to recover and digest the words.
"Doesn't that mean I have to be faster than him?" The youth groused.
Huey shrugged, "Then let's practice your speed," and entered a stance.
Kayson gritted his teeth and delivered a series of slashes which effectively rendered his opponent stuck on the defensive. His arm burned with each slash getting faster than the next. Feeling the momentum slowing, he aimed a kick towards Huey's abdomen which was barely evaded with a side step.
Huey unfortunately did not give him time to recover. Blue gold eyes flicked rapidly in search of the missing person.
"Behind you."
Kayson inhaled sharply, "Whâ"
Feeling a brief sensation of wind behind him, he swerved around and the sharp sound of swords meeting rang out.
"Umph!" He grunted, arm shaking from defending an impetus strike at a weird angle.
"And if you do that," Huey rode his weapon across Kayson's, the motion knocking it out of his opponent's hand. Clattering onto the floor. The already unstable Kayson was quick to fall also, dropping onto the floor with a thud.
Huey struck downwards, the sword touched the floor right beside Kayson's head. He held his breath, prickly cold goosebumps rising along his body from the sensation of the blade's presence.
"...It's game over." Huey concluded before dislodging the weapon and helping his friend up. Kayson grumbled, patting dust off his clothes before picking up his weapon all the while Huey lectured.
"Remember that Sorin will absolutely take advantage of his speed if you aren't paying attention."
Kayson stuck out his tongue. "Are you actually planning on killing me or something?!" He groused despite the thrilled smile edging at his lips. Huey smirked.
Seeing the suppressed shit-eating grin he had, Kayson's urge to smack him multiplied by ten folds. Annoyed, he charged forwards, thrusting the sword and aimed for the chest. But it never hit, instead the male dropped down and slammed Huey to the side with the dull side of the weapon. Earning a rather guttural yelp.
"Game over." He raised his chin smugly, taunting him.
Huey choked out, "Asshole."
"Time for round two?" Kayson pointed the odd of his sword against his friend. In response, an amused glint in Huey's eyes burned within cerise. Things were just getting good.
By the time the two finished, they were both extremely disheveled and tired. Both lamenting over the fact painful muscle aches and bruises would form on their bodies tomorrow. Quickly signing out they washed up at the dorm and made it just in time for dinner which consisted of a well balanced meal that would've gone well with white rice.
Kayson scarfed it up, while Huey hardly ate a bite saying he was so tired that he felt like he might vomit. Did it mean that Kayson got his share? Yeah. There were a couple stares directed at the pink haired youth, most likely because of his bold declaration on challenging Sorin to a spar tomorrow after school. No matter, he's long since gotten used to people staring since he was best friends with someone with arguably the worst reputation amongst the academy.
And in a blink of an eye, tomorrow arrived.
Kayson dipped his calloused palms under water, splashing it onto his face. The cold drippy feeling seeping into his skin cleared his mind, but his subtle tremor did not cease. It wasn't because he was afraidânervous maybe, but not to the extent of shaking. It's just always been that way whenever he was put in the spotlight, such as a performance, presentation, and in this case... a spar. But he doesn't have stage fright either, so what could this feeling be?
He alternately shook a leg in the air at a poor attempt to end the shaking. Kayson looked at himself one more time in the mirror, inspecting his dusty pink hair, pupils the color of the morning sky on top and the sun rays on the bottom, and the unfamiliar face that became familiar, 'his' face.
Kayson rubbed his eyes and left the changerooms, walking out into a small alcove connecting the changerooms to the gym. The shade of the room obscured his presence from the crowd on the bleachers, allowing him to linger a little longer. On the opposite end he could see Sorin stretching, the youth also wearing the same protective suit. Despite their weapons being much duller than real ones, it didn't mean they were incapable of committing damage such as internal bleeding without proper protection.
But time was ticking and he couldn't avoid the fight by standing in the dark like some creep. Inhaling a deep breath, Kayson stepped out. The gymnasium's bright light instantly illuminates him and draws the attention of the crowd. Fortunately as it's not an official spar and they were allowed to use the club gymnasium, only club members were allowed to watch with even less seats available. Meaning there was a limited audience with even more limited seats. So at least not everyone would see him lose.
Kayson's appearance marked the end of Sorin's warm up session as he quickly walked over to where the vice club captain Sadie's brother was.
Salem Madeleine looked tired, like he couldn't believe that not even one day into the club someone challenged someone to a spar and now majority of club members are here on the second day not for the club itself but for the spar. Unbelievable. What has the C&W club become? A stadium? He clicked his tongue and did not bother hiding his obviously sour mood when the two approached. He could care less if they were both from the four knight houses, but he must follow the club captain's orders or else he risks getting his ear pulled off by Sadie.
Nevertheless, he hoped this fight wouldn't drag on for too long. Being a third year meant he didn't have a whole lot of time that does not include academics.
"Here's your practice swords." Salem handed out two identical weapons. It looked the same as the ones in the training room, simple with a black hilt and dull edges. Nothing special.
"Thank you." Sorin nodded in courtesy before moving to his side of the gym. Kayson mumbled out a thanks and did the same.
Salem cleared his throat, raising his voice, "Remember this is just a light spar, no aiming for vital spots, no magic, no aura, no nothing except for your skill with the blade. If you are caught violating this rule you will be instantly kicked out of the club with other potential disciplinary actions with no exceptions."
Sorin and Kayson both nodded their heads, Salem continued.
"Once the countdown reaches zero, you may begin." Quickly cutting to the chase the third year started the countdown. The giant holographic screen coming from his watch ticked down suspensefully.
5..
Sorin focused on Kayson.
4..
Kayson gulped.
3..
Huey sitting in the front row squeezed his fist, digging nails into palms.
2..
The crowd held their breaths.
1..
...
0.
Sorin shot forwards, planning on catching his opponent off guard with speed. Kayson held up his sword in a defensive position, a second before their blades collided, he ducked. Taking advantage of the brief opening, Kayson rammed his elbow into Sorin's abdomen. A dull nauseous pain rippled through Sorin's stomach, knocking his breath unbalanced. Retreating a couple steps before he could even begin to recover, Kayson swung at his right.
CLANG
Sorin's arm shook, the rattling of swords coming from their weapons interlocked in a cross. He smiled stiffly, a feeling of excitement beginning to thrum in his veins.
Kayson pushed his blade forwards hoping to make the other lose balance. While in his practice fights with Huey yesterday he noticed that the majority of attacks will aim at the left. Implying Sorin's left handed (because Huey's not) which he confirmed with Huey. So their strategy was to pressure him by attacking his weak point with multiple objectives in mind.
One, make it so he can last long enough against Sorin.
Two, make Sorin realize his weakness.
Three, make him focus on refining his defences and countermeasures for said weakness.
As he thought, Kayson grinned. The protagonist was indeed struggling slightly. Although not very visible to the crowd, he could see the small mistakes Sorin kept making as he exploited the weakness.
The silver haired youth furrowed his brows, constantly being on the defensive icked him. Sending out a flurry of strikes gracefully connected to each other like the currents of a river, their position was reversed.
"Ah shit," Kayson hissed.
His wrist throbbed from parrying powerful strikes. Muscle memory barely helped him defend against the fast and strong attacks which had the force of a large animal. His vision spun in search of an opening he could use to turn the tables even for a little bit because if this continued his arms were going to fall off.
'Opening, opening, opening, aha!'
His blade touched his opponent's, and like a snake, with a move of the wrist moved in a coil motion stopped the onslaught. He did not end up disarming the male, but did provide a little breathing space. It was good he noticed there was a short interval where Sorin would falter in the combo.
Copying Huey, Kayson swerved behind Sorin and struck.
Skrrchh
Sparks flew as their swords scraped past each other, a couple people in the crowd winced at the abrupt sharp noise which scratched unpleasantly at their ears.
Kayson winced for a different reason.
'Ow fuck my arms!' He cursed, the recoil of the attacks making a toll on his arms. Is this the physical benefits that come with the practice of aura? Not fair!
The two stepped away from each other and reached a standstill. Kayson heaved, once he stopped moving the clear burning of his lungs and limbs assaulted him like needles in the air. His face scorched hot.
Sorin smiled competitively. "I'll get serious now."
'Serious? What do you mean by that?! Serious?! That wasn't serious?!?' Kayson's arms wanted to riot. The thought that the next impacts might get even harsher would be enough to send him into cardiac arrest.
His shallow breaths stagnated. "J, just don't throw me." He doesn't want to realize his childhood dream of flying by being sent flying from someone's punch or kick.
Sorin huffed amusingly, then vanished.
"Huhâ" Kayson choked, a sharp sensation bloomed from his side as he was sent toppling to the ground similar to the one with Huey yesterday but much much more painful. Bracing himself, the pink haired boy rolled to the left and swung an arc over him. Almost slashing Sorin who skillfully dodged it and returned a downward slash. Kayson met it with an upward slash, his one arm holding the sword shook violently. He used the opportunity of push and push to get up. Swiping a low kick which was blocked by Sorin's right arm.
'Oh shiâ'
The protagonist grasped his leg before chucking him away, making him lose his grasp on the sword. Kayson hollored, feeling very wronged as he twisted his body mid air and landed on his legs only for his knee to give out and his body fell.
He yelled, "I thought I told you not to throw me!"
Sorin scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry." Was what he said although he didn't look very sorry.
Kayson scrunched up his nose at him who didn't even bother hiding his smile. He then looked for his sword which had been unceremoniously dropped a couple feet away from him courtesy to Sorin who kicked it away. Sighing, he knew this was the end and raised his arms.
"I forfeit." He grumbled, not like he was aiming to win, but it was still a shitty feeling to lose.
Promptly after his declaration Sorin went over and hauled him up by the hand. Wearing a kind smile which made his already handsome face shine even more. Kayson's eye twitched seeing the person who won the genetic lottery through and through.
The two looked towards Salem who was yawning.
"Sorin Ceylon is the winner." He announced monotonously, marking the start of a loud round of applause and cheers from the crowd. Some even looked like they wanted to jump off the seats and rush over for some reason.
Kayson tried to look for Huey's figure amongst the other students to no avail, but now that his part's over he'll handle the rest. Waving goodbyes to Sorin he left for the change rooms first.
Huey sat cross legged on the bleachers, red eyes trained on Albert Wolint whose face was impossibly dark. His eyes and lips curled up in anticipation.
Softly, he muttered, "do your part Wolint." The words drowned out by the crowd.
~ð©ðª ⧠â¦~
MY LITTLE SISTER ATTACKED ME/GEN ð¨ð¨ð¨ð¨ð¨
(I should work on writing fighting scenes)