Whatever [Skill] Ash had used on my legs had tamed their ache. It had not taken a day, as she had said. It had taken two. I would forgive her for her failure, just this once. Now, my stride came freely and without pain. Mostly.
“You know, I’m surprised this wasn’t the first class you wanted to take,” Ash said by my side. “I thought you liked fighting.”
We stood in front of a large, rectangular building. One that Ren had shown us on our tour, and one that I did remember. She had called it the Arena. It was a place where students took combat oriented classes. It was also, I had learned, where these Ranking Matches took place. Though, what they were remained somewhat of a mystery to me.
Sounds came from inside. Screams, shouts and…cheering. There was plenty of all three. We stood outside. I held the wooden device in my hand.
Lines only had two combat classes per week, and I had checked. I had missed the first one. I did not want to miss the second. “Lys?” Ash prodded.
"I did like fighting. Once." I considered how to explain it. "In the beginning, there were those who could still make a battle of it. Then there was no one." The last true fight I could name had ended with the death of two Gods. Even my own last stand against the Hero had been no proper contest. "After a certain point, one does not fight. One merely concludes."
It had been a very long time since there had been any point at all. A very long time since I hadn’t just destroyed every adversary so thoroughly that no new ones appeared. Yes, I supposed I had liked fighting, once. Ash nodded, though I was sure she didn’t understand.
“Well, let’s go in then,” Ash led the way. I checked on Sol through the bond. She was asleep. She had also been asleep when I had last checked, two minutes ago. A Queen is thorough.
This ‘Arena’ certainly earned its name. It was a plain building from within, lit by warm white light that came from nothing. Tiered seating climbed all four walls, enough to hold the entire Academy and a second Academy besides, and all of it was empty. Whatever battles were fought here, nobody had come to watch them today. In the center, the floor dropped into a wide rectangular hollow
My gaze lingered on the students in the central hollow. There were several slightly raised platforms. Some of them were made out of earth. Some of them looked like rings of ice. One of them appeared to be made out of green vines. A pair of students lined each of the platforms, sparring.
I paid them little mind. Most of the rings were occupied by students sparring with their hands alone. Perhaps there was some essence enhancement involved, but they were not using their marks. Two of the students, the ones in the ring of ice, were using powers.
A short boy with blonde hair raised his right hand in the air. His yellow Line pulsed, and as it did, chains coalesced around his arms. Those chains shot forward. They stabbed at a girl who leapt straight above them. She leapt so high I almost thought she had [Flight], until I noticed the air shifting and moving beneath her feet.
Simple and meager powers. More meager execution. The boy with the chains was controlling his chains directly, that much was clear. It was clear because his chains had tangled, and as such they didn’t have nearly the range they should. The boy was puppeting his chains link by link, which is why they tangled. Why he didn’t untangle them I did not know. Perhaps he didn’t know how.
The girl had some way of shooting herself through the air. Her control over it was pitiful. She would shoot forward, almost shoot out of the arena entirely, and have to hurriedly shoot back. Once, she missed a swing on the boy entirely, and ended up falling on her face. The girl's attacks could have ended the bout two exchanges ago, had she ever once landed where she intended.
If this was combat at this Academy, then I dreaded to consider what they called a battle.
A larger contingent of students watched these battles from a small distance. It was an odd assortment of them. The ratio of humans to demonbloods had only gone one way in every other class. Here, their numbers were almost even.
I spotted Edda. She stood apart from the others, at the lip of the ice ring, and she was actually watching the bouts in front of her. The other students watched the way crowds watched all duels. For blood, for spectacle, sometimes for someone else's humiliation. My hordes had done all three often enough. I did not get that impression from the blue haired girl. When the chain-boy's links tangled, her gaze had already moved to the place where they would tangle, a half-breath before they did.
The Inker for this class was among them. She stood out, for even among all the Inkers I had seen, she had the most finely threaded robes. They were shining in the light. She was a slender woman, with skin so pale she might have matched my former complexion. It was an unnatural color. I almost would have thought her another Demonblood, if I hadn’t noticed her ears. She was an Elf. There was a Crest on her left forearm, one in the shape of a dark blade.
The woman eyed us as we approached. Something inside me tensed. Of all the races the demons had warred against, none had bled longer than the Elves. They had shared the widest border with my realm, and they had paid for every mile of it. Osyrus had paid for refusing to kneel. The World Tree had paid for a greater sin still. My predecessors had been no kinder to the Elves than I. My reign had merely been more thorough. Ash tensed beside me.
The Inker’s gaze made a show of lingering over my horns. Her lips first thinned into a single line, and then they curled into a frown. No matter how many years might pass, it seemed these Elves always stayed the same. “You are Lysanthia,” the woman said. “The one who broke the Arbiter.” One would have to be deaf to miss the mockery in it. A few of the humans snickered. The demonbloods did not.
The instructor turned her attention to Ash. “And you are Ash, the second Consecrated.” For her, the woman’s expression rearranged itself entirely. She smiled, stepped forward past the crowd, and grabbed Ash’s hand in two quick strides. “You didn't let me introduce myself properly last time. Let me do it now, when those stuffy bastards are somewhere else. My name is Pyria Eilbella.” She shook Ash’s hands, more vigorously than human handshakes required.
“Err…right. There was quite a crowd last time. I guess I just didn’t have the chance.” Ash said. Her voice sounded oddly strained for a Hero.
Still, I could guess the shape of this woman now. Ash had said that after her measuring, the Inkers had swarmed her. This Pyria must have been one of them. “Take your hands off of her,” I said. My voice was exactly as sharp as I had intended.
The Elf looked sideways at me. We were of the same height, if not for my horns. She looked from me to Ash. “I thought Theodore warned you last time. You shouldn’t acquaint yourself with her kind. I am told you came together, but whatever circumstance forced you two together is now long past.”
My left eye twitched. I felt the Requiem stir beneath the bracer. Who did this foolish Elf think she was? I had cut down more of her kind than anyone would ever know. I could cut down one more-
The thought stopped there. This woman's people had possessed a Tree, once, older than every kingdom that had ever raised a flag, old enough to be at the center of their religion and culture, and I had stood beneath its burning. Of everyone within these walls, this woman alone might have some claim on the look she was giving me. Even if she was giving it for the wrong reasons. The anger did not come. Something quieter sat down in its place, and I disliked it far more.
Ash pulled her hand back with enough force that the woman stumbled forward half a step. “I am fine where I am. Thank you,” The Hero said. Her voice was almost sharper than my own had been. No, it was sharper than my own had been.
The Elf looked at the Hero, then looked at me. She sighed and stepped back. “Very well then. This is your first Combat class, correct?” She was looking at Ash. The Hero nodded. “In this class, you learn the basics of fighting with your marks. At Line, you start by learning the basics of fighting with Essence. When I have judged-”
“With Essence? With just base physical enhancement?” I cut her off. “That’s all?”
The Elf looked at me, only briefly, before her gaze went back to Ash. “At Line, most students are not familiar enough with their powers. Not familiar enough to be trusted to spar with them. As such, these spars are with Essence only.” She gestured towards the ice ring, where the boy and the girl were still fighting. The fact that the fight hadn’t concluded yet was perhaps the greatest indictment of all. “If I judge you capable enough, I will allow you to use marks in combat.”
“Then what is the point of this class?” I snapped. I was half a breath away from turning around and leaving entirely. “If it is just base physical enhancement, then that-”
“There is nothing base about physical enhancement,” the Elf said. The Inker’s chin was raised. Alisa did the gesture better. “If you cannot control your power properly using just Essence, you cannot be trusted to use it with a Mark. At Sigil, we lift these restrictions, as we assume all students have sufficient enough control.”
Assume. It seemed that Ren had slid under the weight of this assumption deftly.
“You are welcome to leave,” the Inker said. “If you think this is beneath a half-demon.” This statement got another row of snickers.
It seemed Edda had noticed our presence for the first time, because she had come closer to the group.
I almost did. I almost turned. Ash’s hand reached out and grabbed my arm. “We want to practice,” she said.
The Elf regarded her for a moment, looked out at the rows of rings. All of them were occupied, though one spar looked like it had run its course. She pointed. “You can use that, Ash. If you want a worthy opponent, then might I suggest-”
“I have one,” Ash said. She was already dragging me towards the ring.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “There is no point in fighting. We are not even using our marks. This will show me nothing.”
Ash looked back at me. “Humor me a bit, Lys. If you don’t want to, we can leave.” Her blue eyes bored into my own. I wasn’t sure why she was so set on this, only that she was.
“Very well,” I said finally, walking under my own stride then. If this Hero wished to test me, then I would allow myself to be tested. She would find I was no easy foe at all. “Besides,” Ash said, low enough that only I could hear. “It might be fun. Can’t use our marks but…a little hand to hand is always fun.”
The two who had been using the ring stepped past us. One was a short demonblood, with hair the color of ice. Several cuts split her face. The human she had been fighting walked with his head held high. It paused only briefly as we passed them.
“Beat her bloody,” he muttered. The words were for Ash, not me.
“Why is everyone here like this?” Ash murmured as we crested the top of the ring. I did not answer her.
Unlike the other ones, this was simple earth. A large rectangle, a dozen feet wide on each side. It would do. Ash and I split off away from each other.
The Elf had come to watch. She stood just next to the ring. It wasn’t just her. Many of the other students had come to watch too. My gaze met Edda’s. Her head tilted. It might have been a nod. If it was, then it was the barest of nods anyone had ever given anyone else.
“Let me judge just how good you really are,” the Inker said, gazed fixed on me. “You will fight until I call the match, or until one of you surrenders.”
I ignored the woman. Ash settled into a stance I recognized -one of the barehanded martial stances humans favored. It was low with her weight slightly forward. Her hands were open.
I set my feet. It had been a very, very long time since I’d had to just use just my arms. Well, besides that accursed forest.
We stared at each other across twelve feet of packed earth. The last time the Hero and the Demon Queen had faced each other like this, a legendary fortress had ceased to exist. The world had gone white.