THE FIGHT THAT WAS NOT A GAME
The morning had progressed, and the cool air mingled with the heat of the sun, which already beat down on the village's stone floor. The makeshift fighting circle was ready: stones lined up to mark the ground, and several benches and planks had been dragged in by curious villagers who now sat around the space. The anticipation was palpable, every eye fixed on the combatants.
The entire group had gathered around the circle, and Zyrion was still resting to one side, still asleep, under the shade of a tree where Kyrahna watched him out of the corner of her eye. But the focus of attention was on the stone field: two teams were preparing to face each other.
Cilera raised her hand and shouted in a clear voice: "The first match will be Caelithra and Ryvak against Kyrahna and Tzarelle!"
Murmurs drifted like an invisible wind among them. Caelithra took a deep breath and stepped forward, sunlight bathing her hair, while Ryvak strode with firm, arrogant steps, as if he had already won. Kyrahna, on the other hand, walked slowly, her expression serene but with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Tzarelle accompanied her, silent, with the confidence of someone who needed to show nothing.
Ryvak was the first to break the silence. "How ironic, to face you, Kyrahna. Do you think you can take us on?"
Kyrahna replied with a lopsided smile. "I don't think so. I'm sure of it. I just hope you don't cry when Tzarelle slams you to the ground."
Tzarelle, who rarely spoke, looked up and said calmly, "It will be quick. I don't like games that last too long."
Caelithra watched them silently, but her thoughts were far from the fight. Zyrion, asleep beside her, echoed in her mind. "If he wakes and sees me lose, I couldn't bear it," she thought, clenching her hands. "I must fight as if he were watching me."
Cilera raised both hands and announced firmly: "Clear rules. No complete fragments, only dexterity, skill, stamina, and mind. The match ends when one team is outside the circle or unable to continue. Understood?"
The four of them nodded.
"Let it begin!"
The circle shook with a collective gasp of anticipation.
Ryvak was the first to advance, charging with the speed of a wolf on the hunt, his footsteps echoing against the stone. He launched himself directly at Tzarelle, who raised his arm gracefully and deflected the attack as if he had anticipated every move. The clash of their forces raised a cloud of dust.
Kyrahna, meanwhile, moved forward toward Caelithra with fluid, almost feline movements. "Let's see how much you've learned since our last training session," she said with a playful glint in her eyes.
Caelithra raised the wooden sword she had been given for the tournament. "I'll show you I'm not the same as before."
The first clash between them was brutal. The sound of the wood echoed throughout the village, a dry echo that made the walls vibrate. Their eyes met, intense, both with fire in their hearts, but for different reasons: Kyrahna wanted to test, Caelithra wanted to prove.
Ryvak roared as he tried to knock Tzarelle down with brute force, but she moved with precision, dodging just enough to leave his attacks hanging in the air. "You're fast," Tzarelle murmured calmly, "but too noisy. Strength without silence breaks down on its own."
Ryvak growled in frustration. "We'll see if you can keep that calm when I crush you."
Meanwhile, the fight between Caelithra and Kyrahna grew increasingly intense. Sweat trickled down Caelithra's forehead as she held her sword steady against Kyrahna's onslaught. "You're strong," Caelithra admitted during a moment of friction, their weapons locked.
Kyrahna smiled maliciously. "And you're stubborn. I like that."
They both suddenly separated, dust rising between them like a curtain, and then launched themselves at each other again with renewed energy.
The spectators were shouting, some cheering for Caelithra, others for Kyrahna. Cilera watched intently, measuring every move, every strategy. Maerisse clutched her own arm nervously, while Nivhira murmured to Taliena, "This doesn't seem like a simple friendly tournament. They're fighting as if there's something more at stake."
Taliena, without looking away, replied: "There's always something more. Nobody fights just for fun when their heart is elsewhere."
In the center, Ryvak finally managed to catch Tzarelle in a hold and pushed her toward the edge of the circle. The ground creaked under the impact, but in an unexpected move, Tzarelle twisted her body and knocked him down with the same force he had used against her. Ryvak fell backward, surprised, while Tzarelle stood firm, looking down at him.
"Never underestimate balance," he said in a cold voice.
The audience erupted in shouts, some laughing, others applauding. Ryvak stood up, furious but with a spark of respect in his eyes.
On the other side, Caelithra and Kyrahna continued exchanging blows, but now their duel felt more personal. Each strike carried hidden emotions, each clash of swords a wordless dialogue. Caelithra, panting, murmured between attacks, "I won't let anyone tell me I can't be by their side."
Kyrahna raised an eyebrow. "Who are you referring to, Caelitra? Zyrion?"
Caelithra's blow grew more ferocious, and Kyrahna smiled, realizing that she had struck a nerve.
Cilera raised his hand, seeing that the fight was reaching its climax. "Last minute!"
The audience held their breath, knowing that the best was yet to come.
Dust, sweat, and tension filled the air. Both couples were on the brink of victory or defeat, and in that moment, every move mattered more than ever.
Dawn had fully broken, bathing the forest clearing in a soft glow that filtered through the treetops. The leaves still held drops of dew, and the air felt fresh, with that scent of damp earth and sap that precedes the day's warmth. The entire group was gathered around the clearing they had made for the impromptu tournament, and anticipation was palpable, like a simmering fire in every glance.
Cilera had taken the initiative to organize everything, and his enthusiasm was contagious. He had drawn circles in the ground with the tip of his spear, marking the boundaries of the fighting arena. The lines were imperfect, but they had a ceremonial air that gave the confrontation a weight beyond mere play.
"First, we will fight with respect," Cilera announced, his clear voice rising above the murmur of the others. "This isn't a war, but it's a test. It's not about defeating the enemy, but about measuring ourselves, about learning. Fate will pit us against things far worse than ourselves, so facing each other as comrades may be the best way to prepare."
Ryvak chuckled softly, adjusting the strap of his sword. "It sounds like you want to test us, Cilera, as if you were our trainer. But I admit, I don't dislike the idea."
Upon hearing that, Caelithra tightened her grip on her double-edged spear. Her eyes had drifted more than once to where Zyrion still lay, fast asleep, not yet fully recovered from that cursed wound that kept him trapped between pain and silence. She had fought the urge not to leave him alone, but the tournament was also a way to release the tension they all carried.
"If we're going to do this, let's do it right," Caelithra interjected, her serious tone drawing everyone's attention. "I'm not interested in winning or losing. What I want is for each of you to emerge from this fight with something that will serve you well for what lies ahead. This isn't a game... even if it might seem like one."
Kyrahna, sitting on a rock with her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow and let out a sigh tinged with irony. "I wonder who decided I should be with Tzarelle. I suppose it will be interesting to see how well we get along... or if we end up killing each other in the attempt."
Tzarelle, who was adjusting the ribbons that held back her dark hair, gave her a direct look, a spark of pride in her eyes. "Don't underestimate me, Kyrahna. I didn't come here to be anyone's shadow. If I was chosen to be with you, it's because there's something I can give you on the battlefield. And you to me."
The atmosphere tensed for a moment, and Maerisse, with her usual smile and light tone, tried to break the tension. "That's the fun of it. We'll discover who shines brightest... or who knows how to hide best. I, for example, never fight head-on, and yet I'm still standing."
Taliena, more reserved, observed silently. She had a small notebook on her knee, that book of myths and legends she always carried since joining the group. Although she smiled kindly, her eyes seemed to fix on the movements of the others with meticulous attention.
Finally, Cilera announced the order. "The first match will be between Caelithra and Ryvak against Kyrahna and Tzarelle."
The air changed. It became denser, as if the trees had bent their branches to witness the duel. The others formed a wide circle, leaving space in the center.
Caelithra stood calmly, but inside her, her pulse pounded. Zyrion's name crossed her mind again like an unstoppable whisper. She wondered what he would say if he saw her enter that fight. Perhaps he would reproach her for being too serious, or perhaps he would tell her that her resolve was what had always set her apart.
Ryvak, beside her, stretched out his arms and rolled his neck, like a seasoned warrior who needed nothing more than his own confidence to enter the fray. "Caelithra, don't hold back," he murmured, lowering his voice slightly so only she could hear him. "If you fight thinking only of not hurting others, you won't show who you truly are. Fight with me, not behind me."
She looked at him for a moment and nodded, although her expression did not lose its hardness.
Before them, Kyrahna descended from the rock with the grace of a wild animal just about to enter the hunt. Her jet-black hair gleamed in the sunlight, and her eyes held a mixture of defiance and something deeper, almost a simmering rage. "I hope you don't regret this," she said, drawing her curved sword, which flashed with silver.
Tzarelle stood beside her, without unnecessary words, letting her posture and the calmness of her gaze speak for themselves.
The air between the two teams seemed to crackle, as if the energy they shared, the emotions they carried, had become a living presence floating around.
Cilera raised his hand and slammed it down on the floor. "Begin!"
The initial clash wasn't immediate. Everyone sized each other up for a few seconds, circling around, studying each other's gestures and footsteps. The silence was so profound that the sound of a bird flapping its wings as it took flight from a nearby tree felt like thunder.
Then Ryvak took the first step, advancing straight at Kyrahna with a charge that kicked up dust from the ground.
And the tournament, at that moment, came to life.
And Kyrethron was where the division began.