The duel was set for noon, and by the time it arrived, the entire academy already buzzed with anticipation. The central arena, usually reserved for upperclassmen trials, was cleared and ringed with barriers.
Lanterns burned with pale blue flame, casting shadows across the stone floor. Students crowded the stands, their chatter a constant hum. Betting slips changed hands, some calling it the rise of the fox, others sneering that he'd be broken under the upperclassman saber's edge.
When Eiran and Hanul arrived in the middle of the central ring, the noise hushed into a tension that prickled like static. Hanul was all pomp. His noble house sigil threaded with the Myrra Dominion colors draped across his shoulders, a sneer carved into his face as though victory was already his. He strutted to the center, one hand resting on the hilt of his saber.
Eiran, by contrast, was quiet elegance. His steps made no sound, his tails tucked tight into a singular tail, his expression neutral. Only the flicker of foxfire in his onyx eyes betrayed the razor's edge of his mood. He looked dignified even though he wore no flashy clothes,Eiran loved flamboyance but it had to be with finesse.
The officiating instructor stepped forward. "State the conditions of your duel."
Hanul was quick to seize control. "Weapons allowed. No innate bloodline abilities." His words were deliberate, aimed directly at Eiran. Everyone knew the fox relied on illusions during the last duel, on tricks pulled from the marrow of his bloodline. This rule gutted his advantage.
Auren's jaw flexed, his nails biting into his palm as he sat in the stands. Katelyn, beside him, felt suffocated by the sheer pressure he exuded. His aura wrapped the seats like iron chains, and she wondered, not for the first time, how Eiran endured this pressure on a daily basis.
But Eiran only smiled. A curve of lips so faint it looked cruel. "Agreed," he said. "And my rule is simple. No underhanded means. You will accept the outcome, no matter what it is."
Hanul's sneer deepened. "Done."
Weapons were drawn. Hanul hefted his saber, a massive blade nearly as tall as he was. Its edge gleamed wickedly under the lantern light. He swung it once, cleaving air, and the whoosh stirred the crowd.
Eiran, however, reached behind into his storage ring, hand on his waist and drew a Kusarigama. A chain rattled as the weighted sickle unfurled, glinting like a serpent in firelight. Murmurs spread through the students.
"Why such a strange weapon?"
" Why not a sword, a spear, something solid?"
But Auren smirked. He knew. The Kusarigama was Eiran's true love, the weapon he had mastered to perfection. Even Auren, with his moon blades, had been forced to concede defeat when the fox's skill and chain sang in harmony.
"Begin." The word had barely left the instructor's lips when Hanul charged.
The saber came down like a guillotine, a brutal arc meant to crush through defenses. But the chain lashed out, the sickle's curve hooking the blade mid-swing. Sparks screamed as steel scraped steel. Eiran twisted, pulling Hanul off-balance.
The fox moved like water. Each step was a slip, a slide and a pivot. The Kusarigama's chain whirled in deadly arcs, striking the ground, clanging against the saber, darting for Hanul's wrists and ankles. Every swing forced the proud jaguar Therion back.
Hanul's saber had reach, but only at arm's length. Eiran's weapon was a dance, striking from odd angles, wrapping and binding before slipping free again. The chain rang like cruel laughter every time it snapped against steel. This is the proof of his hard work, of the days spent training with Auren and of the nights spent meditating.
The crowd roared. What was supposed to be Hanul's advantage turned into humiliation. He couldn't land a strike. His swings cut only air, his blade dragged down, his stance broken apart piece by piece.
Then came the first strike.
The sickle swept low, biting into Hanul's thigh. Blood spurted and the audience gasped. Before the jaguar Therion could recover, the weight at the end of the chain slammed into his ribs, cracking bone. He staggered, wheezing, blood dripping from his lips.
Eiran didn't gloat. He didn't speak. He simply advanced, foxfire eyes unblinking, Kusarigama singing its grim lullaby. Auren had time and again attacked him whenever he spoke In their fights. Now it's become second nature for him to keep silence in battle.
Hanul was cornered. His pride was cracking under the strain. And then at that moment, A feather drifted.
It was Small, delicate, but very wrong within that moment. Its glimmer was faint, nearly invisible in the chaos. It brushed against Eiran's leg, and his knee buckled instantly, numbness spreading like venom. [ I've been hit.] Wiran thought as he dodged the saner, a cut forming on his shoulder.
The audience gasped.
Hanul grinned, realizing his opening. He lunged fiercely, saber raised for a killing blow. He knew the central ring was covered in life saving wards do a killing blow will be considered an automatic loss. Hanul war for the kill as Eiran tried his best to work with one leg.
All this Auren had already seen it. He had been watching not just the fight, but the edges of it, the shadows and even the bystanders. This was because he knew that in the case Hanul seemed to lose, that stupid owl would panic and truly as he predicted she panicked. Auren saw Aura's sly movement, saw the feather leave her hand.
His rage ignited like a storm tearing free of chains.
He didn't think. He didn't care for rules or decorum. He leapt from the stands, boots pounding the arena wall as he vaulted forward. His presence tore through the crowd like a wolf among sheep, and students ducked, terrified, as his shadow swept past. His eyes glowed with murderous promise.
Aura's feathers ruffled in more panic. She saw him coming for her and bolted, wings unfurling as she took to the air. But Auren was faster.
Twin arcs of light from his swords ripped through the air as his blades spun free of storage. They curved wide, luminous crescents looping like predators hunting prey. Aura shrieked, backing up desperately as the blades circled, always returning and always pursuing.
By the time Auren caught his blades again, he changed their form like liquid and wore them as gauntlets. The flames of frost rippling along his arms as his bloodlines awoke. He stood at the arena's edge, waiting, daring her to exhaust her wings till she fell.
The instructors who were watching the fight leapt between Auren and Aura, their voices sharp.
"Auren! You will stand down." One instructor said.
"This is not your duel. You cannot attack a student without challenge." Another added with strictness.
Auren's chest heaved, every muscle screaming for release. His blades hummed, begging to taste blood. But the command froze him, held him by the collar of law. His lips curled in a snarl, but he stopped.
Meanwhile, in the ring, Eiran steadied himself. The numbness ebbed and he was able to move his leg again. He dashed forward again, fluid as ever. With one vicious spin, the chain wrapped Hanul's saber and wrenched it from his grip. The next second, the sickle kissed his throat. Blood welled as the edge cut deep.
Hanul froze, trembling, the ward saved his life. Then thinking he could attack again, came the sound of snapping bone, Eiran's kick shattered his arms, and another strike from the weighted ball broke his jaw. Hanul collapsed in a heap, twitching and whimpering.
The fight was over. Brutally, decisively. Hanul died twice within the ring, the wards saved his life negating the damage inflicted yet everyone saw it. Cheers echoed through the crowds, class 1-N was incredibly happy as well because this win raised their class status in the school.
Eiran exhaled, then looked across the arena at Auren. No anger there in his eyes and no reproach could be found within. There was only silent gratitude for his friend standing up for him. But when his gaze shifted to Aura, his onyx eyes sharpened like daggers.
He raised his voice using Primis so all could hear, the crowds went quiet at the echo of his voice.
"Aura of Flame Dominion. You interfered in a duel that was not yours. You schemed against a prince of royal blood. And now you hide behind the academy instructors like a filthy little rat. Refuse Auren's challenge, and I will declare it plainly, you are a coward. A scheming rat. And anyone who ally with you will face the both of us."
The crowd rippled with murmurs. In one breath, Aura was branded an outcast. Her wings trembled, and though she refused the challenge, she could not refuse the shame.
Order was restored, but at a price.
The afternoon was filled with chatter and the teachers cancelled the afternoon classes knowing very well that noone would pay attention. By nightfall, Auren retreated to the Eternal Glass. The moonlight filtered through broken panes now whole again, flowers blooming under careful care. The place breathed calm into him. And for the first time since its claiming, someone else entered.
Eiran.
He didn't speak at first. He simply brought out a seed, knelt, and planted it among the flowers. A gesture of respect, claiming a piece of the sanctuary as his own, without taking it from Auren. The wolf said nothing. But when their eyes met, something unspoken bound them tighter than any rumor and any duel.
Two predators. Two shadows. And one garden to keep their secrets.