"Well, Kantara, what is the purpose of having us here?" Iruim asked, gesturing that he should begin. Lutens nodded in agreement; he looked expectant.
"I spoke with Atenyos and uncovered some new information," Kantara began, his tone tinged with unease. "The kid doesn't seem to bear any ill will, and I'd prefer to keep what he told me between us. But it's clear to me, as it's been to the emperors, that there are concerns about him." His voice grew more solemn, hinting at the weight of the private conversation he'd had with Atenyos.
"I understand your apprehension, Kantara," Iruim replied calmly but firmly. "You have to understand that Atenyos is no ordinary ring bearer. The light granted him two rings, pure white and pure black, and at 0.01%, his output rivals those at 16%. His very existence is an anomaly, and one thing Setis has made clear is this, we need answers, and we must take action."
Folding his arms, Lutens said, "Iruim is right. I can understand your attachment towards him, Kantara. He is your student, and undoubtedly his teammates are attached to him. But this goes beyond you or your team. His condition shakes the very roots of how the essence acts and the system we rely on. It may even tell something more about the nature of the light, the essence-and him."
Kantara sighed, clearly torn. "I understand your position," he admitted. "Atenyos and I had a talk. According to him, his birth wasn't normal. Those strange marks resembling black lightning—they weren't granted by the rings. He was born with them. He also told me that the day he was born, his father, who seems to have been a ring bearer, died. And… so did Enyos."
The room fell silent; the weight of Kantara's words sank in.
"So, he didn't get those marks from the rings?" Iruim asked, brow furrowed in thought. "I remember them from Selection Day, but I had thought they came with his awakening. Is it possible the rings somehow re-activated something latent?"
"It would appear that those markings have something to do with the light-or even the essence itself," Lutens said. "Enyos died on the same day one of the largest gates opened… perhaps that incident somehow triggered something in Atenyos?"
Iruim's voice gentled, laced with sorrow. "That day-I was there. Only a few ring bearers died, and only because of Enyos's sacrifice. He faced the Witnesses alone to give us a chance to escape." His eyes darkened with a deep, lingering pain.
Lutens straightened then, his mind sharpening. "If his father had died on that same day, maybe then we have something. Check the archives, crosscheck with the list of all the fallen bearers, and determine who Atenyos's father was." Lutens turned to Iruim. "Do you know his father's name?
Iruim shook his head. "No. We investigated his background, and everything was hazy, with no father listed, just his mother, Freya."
"Freya," repeated Lutens, his face furrowed in reflection. "That's. strange. Why leave the name of his father blank?"
"Could we not simply confront him with this?" Lutens finally suggested, his voice quite neutral.
Kantara came forward, his voice firm. "No. We cannot confront him directly. We mustn't make him feel watched or mistrusted-for that would be sure to raise distrust-and he would turn against us."
Iruim nodded in agreement. "Kantara's right. We don't even know if Atenyos is an ally or an enemy in the making. Until we're sure, we can't afford to alienate him."
Lutens sighed, conceding the point. "Fine. We'll keep digging, then."
"Thank you," Kantara said, his voice softening. "We'll take it from here. Go ahead and rest—tomorrow's fight won't be easy."
Kantara nodded, gave them both a respectful glance, and left the room.
As the door shut behind him, Lutens and Iruim exchanged a determined look. "We have to get to the bottom of this," Lutens said.
Iruim nodded, his face grim. "For all our sakes."
Luterra vs. Savina
The air was filled with tension as the two teams clashed for the third match of the joint guild training. The vastness of the training area, with the ruggedness of sand and grass, seemed to amplify all that tension. The sun stayed high up in the sky, casting shadows on eager spectators, as Lutens and Kantara stepped forward to start the bout.
A confident smile danced on Kantara's lips, showing his excitement for the match. His voice echoed in the arena as he announced the contenders. "Luterra versus Savina!" The murmurs among the teams died out immediately, replaced by crackling energy from the anticipation.
From Kantara's group stepped forward Luterra. His brown hair danced softly in the breeze, while his yellow eyes sparkled with hints of mischief. Luterra was reserved in his manner and speech; rarely did he speak because his mind was somewhere else. But when he fought, it was an entirely different story. The effects of his power placed him into this weird, drunken state; it changed the quiet intellectual into an erratic, devastating force.
Meanwhile, Savina burst from the ranks of Lutens like a storm. Her black hair flared to bright red as she started to power up; the color caught the sun and glittered with an almost unnatural sheen. Her face was set and unyielding, her scarlet eyes bright with determination. She approached the field, prepared for the fight to come.
Lutens raised his hand, and then his voice boomed out, "Begin!
Luterra powers up immediately. A light gleam envelops his whole body as his motions went wild, almost playful. Arms loose and waving in an exaggerated manner, he comes ahead with a wide grin spreading all over his face: "You ready for the beating?" he asks softly-as a tease.
Savina stood firm and unwavering, her face hard as granite. In stark silence, her hair undid itself to reveal jagged, blade-like weapons. She then suddenly whisked them in one movement in the direction of Luterra. The threads whipped in every direction, like so many deathly blades, assisted by the output of the ring, where a flurry of well-placed jabs was then unleashed.
Luterra dodged with a grace surprising for one who seemed drunk. His body twisted and turned in exaggerated, unpredictable ways, narrowly avoiding the slashing blades. But not all attacks missed. Several strands cut into his arm, drawing blood.
Stopping momentarily, Luterra examined his wounds, frowning deeply. "You made me bleed," he muttered, his tone almost childlike. He wiped the blood off his arm, tasting it with a dramatic grimace. "I don't like you," he declared, locking his yellow eyes on Savina. Then, with a sudden shift in tone, he grinned. "You made me bleed, so now I'll make you."
Her eyes narrowed as her stance fell to the ready. she prepared for the next exchange. But before she could react, Luterra disappeared, his speed blinding. In an instant, he reappeared behind her. A blur, he produced a combination of swift jabs into her back. So fast and furious, his punches slash the air that even grains of sand and pieces of grass were whirled off the ground.
Luterra's drunken motions then turned into a whirlwind of destruction before the onlookers. Kantara stood on the side and let a small smile be visible on his face as he was proud of the unpredictability in the fighting style of his disciple. Lutens nodded a little, saying silently that that was good work.
Savina dropped to one knee but would not let her spirit break. As the shrill laughter from Luterra repeated itself, so did she get up, on both feet, the trump card hidden in the bag coming into view, it was her hair covering the back that had shielded it from most of the attack by Luterra.
"You are not the only one with tricks; output also benfits a power user," she said in a confident and proud manner as she smirked back at Luterra.
Thanks to her output, Savina's hair has the durability to sustain and thus absorb damage, a very peculiar byproduct because, in most cases, that sort of added physical modification would come not from someone's output or power itself, but from the power. This is very much kept in secret on purpose, similar to how users of their powers usually did not discuss the amount of their output with people they barely know.
She launched another assault, her hair weaving through the air like serpents while her fists came down with deadly precision. Despite her speed, Luterra remained faster, dodging and weaving with ease. His erratic movements made him nearly impossible to predict.
With one final surge of speed, Luterra closed the gap between the two. His fist, strengthened by the output which enhanced his body, struck Savina's side with a lot of power. The result shook the field and blew away air and scattering sand and grass. Savina crumpled into the earth, clutching at her side.
As Luterra would finally deal the finishing blow, Savina raised her hand. "I yield," she said, her voice steady despite the pain.
The field was silent for a moment, heavy with tension, as it dawned upon them that she had surrendered. It was then that they noticed Savina's hair, whittled down to a single pointed end, was merely inches from Luterra's neck. A single drop of blood trickled down from where it had grazed his skin.
Luterra stepped back, deactivating his power as he returned to his normal self. The erratic grin disappeared, replaced by a look of genuine respect. He extended a hand to Savina, helping her to her feet before bowing deeply. "Your strength is incredible," he said sincerely.
Savina smirked, brushing herself off. "You're not bad yourself."
The spectators clapped, cheering both fighters on. Kantara leaned toward Luterra and patted him on the back. "You fought great," he said. "You made me proud."
Lutens himself wasn't coy with his praise of Savina. "Your skill and determination were brilliant," he said to her.
As the teams scattered towards the dining hall, Luterra lagged silently to the rear of the group. He was clearly embarrassed by the antics that had earlier entertained his team, and wanted to stay out of his teammates' teasing grins. The grins turned into a back-patting session as they congratulated him.
The atmosphere was light as the tension eased, the two teams had come together for a meal. Atenyos and Ipsum sat together, plates piled high with food.
"I'm surprised you haven't made a scene yet," Ipsum said with a smirk, looking at Atenyos.
"Give me time," Atenyos replied, grinning.
Their teasing was cut short as a figure approached, joining them at the table. Mendr.
A flicker of displeasure crossed Ipsum's face, Atenyos noticed but said nothing, his interest now piqued by the apparent dynamics between them.
"Mind if I join you?" Mendr asked, her tone casual.
Atenyos gestured toward the seat. "Be my guest."