A year had passed since Avon had first met the cardinal, and he now found himself standing proudly amongst the ranks of five star mages- a frightening speed of progression according to his master, one that could only be rivaled by those at the level of archmage.
The oracle had to leave for the capital two months after he had taken in Avon, but had employed the services of someone with the brand of Anael in order to continue his tutelage of Avon. A small blunder on Avon's part had led to Reas finding out about the cardinal's relationship with him; his reaction was much more lukewarm than what Avon had expected it to be- but then again, Reas lived to contradict him.
This had led to him gaining a sparring partner, with the cardinal imparting the basics of magic theory to Reas and propelling him to the ranks of a mage in order to challenge Avon more. His swordsmanship had also drastically improved- he could now confidently slaughter beasts that mid-ranked knights would have trouble dealing with using only his sword, once again increasing his appreciation for Reas' mysterious master who had taken great pains to teach him such exquisite techniques.
He, Reas, and his master were currently sequestered in the study that he had found a year before, silently going through the many intermediate spell books inside. Reas was as diligent as always, while Avon had taken up the task of discovering new ways to irritate the two others in the room.
"I miss the days when training used to suck up every drop of energy inside you, my dear disciple." the cardinal lamented. "Why is it that you're well behaved only when you're on the verge of collapse?"
Reas let out a noise of agreement, smirking when a deadpan expression appeared on Avon's face. "If only we could find people who would willingly beat him up once in a while. That ought to help him blow off some steam."
"You make it sound like I'm a battle maniac, Reas." Avon stuck his tongue out childishly. "And I bet there isn't a single person in Fanfir who can beat me up with ease. The ones who are actually capable are busy running around like headless chickens in order to please the aristocrats they're employed under."
"Actually," the cardinal quipped interjecting in their conversation. "There may be a place in Fanfir that'll actually test your strength, Avon. It's called the Subjugation Arena and it's the perfect stage to help you grow."
"Really, master?" If Avon was a beastman, his ears would have undoubtedly perked up by now.
"I only recently managed to obtain information about that place- it is far too secretive for non-regulars to even catch a whiff of its trail. In fact, its head is a bestowed who has Anael's brand, and uses it to regularly relocate the arena. Fortunately, I threatened- I mean, asked- an adventurer to give me its coordinates." the cardinal didn't seem the slightest bit embarrassed about his little slip-up.
"That bestowed actually has the power to shift an entire business? He probably has a golden brand, right?" Reas asked.
"Indeed. Bronze or silver brands cannot provide enough divine power for such a task." the cardinal hummed in agreement. "He's one of the few people with a golden brand that hasn't been leashed and brought under the heels of a king."
"So, just what exactly is the Subjugation Arena?" Avon asked, an excited grin appearing on his lips.
"It's a place where adventurers can test their mettle by fighting against monsters, but there's a catch- only the unbranded are allowed to fight."
"The unbranded? But only the weakest of monsters can be killed without divine power!" Reas' words were laced with deep notes of shock.
"That's true. It's nigh impossible to kill powerful monsters that have been corrupted by Chaos' vestiges without divine power- if the corrupted energy in their bodies isn't countered, it can heal them faster than you can hurt them- but that's what makes the arena all the more interesting. It's a way of proving that you hold strength beyond the norm."
"Count me in." Avon said in delight.
"Count me out." Reas threw his arms up in a surrendering gesture. "Unlike someone," he tilted his head towards Avon, "I am not a once-in-a-generation genius."
"Your talents are amazing in their own right, Reas, but your decision is correct- it'll take you a few more years before you can confidently kill a monster. Instead, you can come with me to spectate. I'll take the two of you there in a few days, then." the cardinal seemed just as excited as them at the prospect.
"I can't wait."
__________
"Why the long face?"
A voice echoed through the night, making Avon flinch. A second passed before a lean figure jumped off the branches of a tree, landing gracefully on the forest floor. The boy's blonde hair seemed paler than usual in the darkness of the night, but his eyes still glowed brightly with the same amused gleam that they always held.
Reas.
Avon sighed, pressing a palm against his chest in a bid to calm his racing heart. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
"Sneak up on me, despite my senses being better than yours. If I didn't know better, I'd think you came out of the womb with the skills of an assassin." Avon had truly lost count of the number of times Reas had managed to startle him- he was tempted to hand him a belled collar.
"Maybe I did, you never know." his grin was blinding. "So, what are you doing inside a forest at midnight?"
Avon had startled awake from yet another of his indecipherable dreams, and had come to the forest to try and work the frustration out of himself. The voice that he had first heard on the day that he had awakened his mana was slowly becoming a recurring aspect of his nightmares- infesting every single corner of his mind for hours and filling it with scenes of blood and war.
He had once thought that the memories the voice showed him were his own, but had dismissed the thought after realising that the beings and structures that he had seen in them had never existed. It always showed him visions of a grand temple made of black glass, or fantastical scenes from the life of a man named 'Ahir'.
Avon liked to fool himself by believing that these dreams were simply a product of his imagination, but the lie had long since turned stale on his tongue. Countless conjectures about this mysterious phenomenon constantly floated through his mind, his thoughts changing with every new piece of information that he had gleaned from them.
A single flimsy thread connected all of his insipid hypothesis' together- the child of destiny. Avon didn't know exactly how, but deep down, he was convinced that the dreams were a result of his so-called fate- and this frightened him.
He was still unable to accept the grand fate that awaited him in the future, despite the insistence of the Silver Oracle. Avon was half-convinced that the cardinal would wake up one day and tell him that he had made a mistake, and that the one destined to wage a war against Chaos wasn't him but someone else- someone braver, someone more heroic, someone who actually cared about the people that weren't closest to him.
He couldn't possibly talk to Reas about any of this, no matter how badly he wanted to indulge in the comfort of his closest friend. So, he could only lie to him.
"I felt like setting some natural vegetation on fire in preparation for my arena debut tomorrow." he cast a tired glance towards the starry sky. "Well, today."
If Reas knew that he was lying, he was courteous enough not to comment on it. "What did the poor plants ever do to you?"
"It's their fault for provoking my inner arsonist." Avon teased, shoving his depressing thoughts to the back of his mind. "If they didn't want to be burnt, they shouldn't look like hundred meter long targets."
"I'm sure Elaria is weeping." Reas rolled his eyes. "Care for a spar, instead? It'll be much less... destructive."
"Are you that eager to get your ass kicked?" he laughed.
"If you stop using mana, I can still overpower you easily." Reas said in a petulant tone. "Who told you to be so disconnected from common sense?"
"Oh? You're on, Reaval. Let me prove my expertise to you." If there was one thing that Avon was confident in, it was his own strength.
"Sure... but don't go around throwing a tantrum when I pummel you into the ground, Avon." Reas had already pulled his sword out its scabbard, pointing its tip towards his unguarded chest.
"I dare you to try." The smooth slide of metal was the only warning that the aureate teenager got before Avon lunged at Reas.
__________