Ashern City - Reinhart Institute of War, 2nd of Brightforge, year 315 UC
"I asked you a question."
Bryan said as he dodged another attack from the hologram.
Farrah remained at the doorway, her green eyes studying his movements with an intensity that made him uncomfortable.
"End simulation."
She called out.
The hologram flickered and vanished, leaving Bryan standing alone in the center of the training room. His blood blade dissipated into mist.
"What gives you the right—"
"To interrupt your self-destructive training session?"
Farrah pushed off from the doorframe.
"The same right you had to dismiss our team's efforts earlier."
Bryan's jaw tightened.
"I don't have time for this."
"No, you never do, do you?"
She took a step forward.
"You're so focused on being stronger, on being alone, that you can't see what's right in front of you."
"And what's that?"
His voice carried an edge of mockery.
"An opportunity."
She gave him an expression he was not used to seeing on her face. She looked serious.
"Not just to be stronger, but to be better."
"I don't need—"
"A lecture? Friends? Help?"
She cut him off.
"Yes, you've made that abundantly clear. But here's what I see, Bryan: someone who's terrified of letting others get close."
Bryan felt that familiar tightness in his chest again.
"You don't know anything about me."
"No, I don't."
Farrah agreed.
"Because you won't let anyone know you. And that's exactly what worries me."
"She's right, you know."
Zoltan's voice whispered in his ear as if the mouse was right there on his shoulder.
He wasn't there, and Bryan knew it. That did not mean it did not irritate him any less.
"I'm so tired of people telling me what to do. What they think is good for me. Just leave me alone."
While he was speaking to Farrah, he was also talking to Zoltan, who he knew would be listening.
What happened to 'I'm going to be gone for a while'? Turns out the little mouse was just watching him from the shadows.
He was not going to play this game. If Zoltan wanted to leave, then he should have left. What was the point in all of this?
"You think I want to be here? Trust me, I don't."
Farrah said as she walked slowly over to him.
"I'm only here because you're on our team. You want to be alone, yeah, that's fine, go ahead. But don't dismiss anyone's effort because you think it is a waste of time."
Now she stood in front of him, her green eyes meeting his with a stare so intense it could kill.
"You're on the team, whether you like it or not. Suck it up, do your part, and if you don't have anything nice to say, then just shut the fuck up. Is that so hard? You didn't ask for this, and we didn't either, so let's just make the best of a bad situation and move on. We'll finish our team matches, finish this camp, and be done with it."
She pause,d her eyes searching his for something.
Farrah was so close, only inches away from him. If he wanted to, he could end her right where she stood.
There were so many openings, so many ways to eliminate her and go about his day. The thought came and went, but he did not act on it.
Killing her would be a lot more trouble than what it was worth. So, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and calmed himself.
"You keep up that attitude, and you'll find yourself truly alone. Learn to depend on others, or you'll have difficulty finding anyone to support you."
She told him.
"Don't need to. Others are a liability."
Farrah stared at him.
"Is that what you think of us? As a liability?"
His eyes narrowed.
Was she not paying attention to what happened earlier with Sabrina? To any of his words?
"Alexander takes 1.5 seconds to cast his bubble, and it's not even that stable. Trapping someone competent is a pipe dream for his current skill level; his melee ability is downright trash. Christopher has to stomp the ground in order to attack, and he leaves himself wide open so the lag between attacks can easily be exploited. Don't even get me started on his piss-poor stamina. Sabrina can't move while casting, and she has the best melee abilities out of the three of them. You're fast sure, but your light spheres aren't meant for offense, that's why you always rush into melee and you know it."
"What does that—"
She started to say before Bryan cut her off.
"None of you would last thirty seconds in a real fight. And don't think you're the only one. The other 'top' students here are just as bad from what I've seen."
"Is that how you view people?"
She asked him.
"How else am I supposed to view them? What other purpose do they serve me? Didn't you hear? Only thirty will graduate from this academy. No one cares about how you play on a team; what matters will be your own strength."
Bryan told her.
Farrah shook her head as she started to unbutton and remove her jacket.
"What are you doing?"
He asked.
"Don't you want to see if you're right?"
She asked, and Bryan started to laugh. He just couldn't help it.
"You're challenging me? Are you being serious right now?"
He was actually laughing, and he had a genuine smile on his face. Farrah just could not be serious, and it made no sense.
"Dead serious."
Farrah said, tossing her jacket aside.
"You've analyzed everyone's weaknesses and cataloged all our flaws. But have you ever actually fought any of us?"
Bryan's laughter died down, but the mocking smile remained.
"You really want to do this?"
"Unless you're afraid?"
Her voice carried a hint of challenge.
"After all, I'm just a liability, right?"
"How much are you going to show her? Are you going to fight and say it's an accident when you end up killing her? Show her enough, and she'll run scared."
Zoltan said.
"Fine."
Bryan created three blood blades that orbited slowly around him.
"Your funeral."
Farrah didn't flinch at the sight of the blood blades. Instead, she settled into a defensive stance, five light spheres forming around her.
"You think you know everything about us."
She said calmly as she moved slowly around him, looking for an angle.
"But you've never bothered to understand what drives us. What makes us fight."
Bryan scoffed.
"Spare me the lecture. Let's just get this over with."
He sent one of the blades hurtling towards her. But Farrah was faster than he anticipated. She sidestepped the blade and closed the distance between them in a heartbeat.
"First mistake."
She said as she sent a sphere rushing towards him.
"Underestimating your opponent."
Bryan barely managed to dodge as the light sphere grazed his cheek. He countered with a flurry of blade strikes, but Farrah met each one with a well-timed light sphere, deflecting them.
"Second mistake."
She continued, her voice steady despite the exertion.
"Thinking you know everything about someone's abilities."
She launched another series of light spheres, forcing Bryan to go on the defensive. He managed to block most of them, but one slipped through, exploding against his chest and sending him reeling.
But Bryan was quick to adapt. As Farrah moved in for another attack, he feinted to the side, causing her to overcommit. In a flash, he had a blood blade at her throat.
"You're right."
He said coldly.
"I don't know everything about your abilities. But I know enough."
Farrah froze, the light spheres around her flickering out.
"You win."
She said softly.
"That was only twenty-two seconds."
He turned to walk away, but Farrah's voice stopped him.
"Wait. I want a rematch."
Bryan paused, turning back to her with a raised eyebrow.
"Why? There's no point. You know I wasn't even trying, and you were already pushing yourself."
Farrah met his gaze.
"What's the harm in going again? Unless you're afraid."
Bryan shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
"If you want to be my punching bag, I won't complain."
They took their positions again, Farrah's light spheres reforming around her. Bryan launched a crescent blood blade. Farrah raised a light shield, and the blade shattered against it.
Before Bryan could react, Farrah closed the distance in a blink. Using a spell he had not seen before. Her fist connected with his face, sending him staggering back.
"I thought you were different, but you're like the rest. So convinced of your superiority—"
Bryan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes narrowing.
"You don't know anything about me."
"And you don't know anything about us!"
Farrah retorted.
"What do you expect from people who have only recently awakened their abilities?"
Bryan scoffed.
"I expect more. You're from noble families. Except for Alexander, the rest of you should have been prepared."
Farrah's eyes flashed with anger.
"We weren't raised to be weapons! Do you think we spent every waking day learning to kill? That's not normal."
"Normal?"
Bryan's voice was mocking.
"How hard would it be to learn basic combat? Did you or your families think you wouldn't awaken magic?"
Farrah was silent for a moment. Bryan pressed his advantage, his blood blade shattering her barrier. Farrah reeled from the impact, struggling to maintain her footing.
"Your families knew."
Bryan said coldly.
"But instead of preparing you as they should have, they got you tutors. Let you live lavish lifestyles without a worry in the world. You've never once been in a situation with real danger. They didn't want their 'investment' to get hurt."
Farrah used the same spell she used before, dodging his next attack and putting some distance between them.
'So, a short-range blink spell. Seems to cover ten feet in distance.'
Bryan analyzed the situation, understanding what had happened at the start of their rematch.
"What happened to you to make you think like this? You're fifteen. This isn't how you should be thinking."
Farrah asked.
Bryan's face hardened.
"No one made me this way. I'm an orphan."
He launched another flurry of attacks, his blood blades whirling around him. Farrah met each one with a light sphere, but she was clearly on the defensive.
"Don't."
Bryan hated that she was barely defending, barely trying. She was trying to come to terms with what he said.
"I see that look forming."
"I wasn't—"
"You were!"
His blood-crescent blades split from three into six as they moved faster, more aggressively.
"Everyone does. Poor orphan boy, must be so damaged, so broken."
Farrah's light suddenly intensified, three spheres forming simultaneously.
"That's not what I—"
"Save it."
His crescent blades filled the space between them.
"I don't need pity."
His next attack should have ended it, but Farrah surrounded herself with a transparent barrier.
It was not the one basic barrier every mage instinctively knew how to use with a bit of practice. This one was different and seemed to show all the colors of the rainbow as it protected her.
His blades hit the shield and were reflected right back at him.
"You're right."
She said, light gathering around her.
"I don't know your story. But you don't know ours either!"
Her counter-attack came with unexpected precision, with light spheres moving rapidly, forcing Bryan to form his shield.
"You think Alexander's bubbles are weak?"
Two more spheres materialized as she advanced.
"He practices until exhaustion every night. His family sold everything to send him here!"
She was not letting up; her spells just kept coming, and Bryan had a hard time trying to find an opening. He watched as she moved, looking for a pattern waiting for his chance to strike.
"Christopher?"
Light spheres surrounded him from all directions, their light blinding.
"His entire family dies young serving the kingdom. He expects the same fate, but he still shows up. Still fights."
As each one of her light spheres slammed against his barrier, they momentarily blinded him.
"You'd know this if you took a moment, a second, to get to know them! And for you for deminsh their hard work when it's only been two days! What do you know?"
The constant flicker of lights was getting to him. They went from bright to dim to bright again, and it did not help that Farrah's reflective barrier was flashing the light back in rapidly.
Bryan closed his right eye as his head started to hurt. It felt as if someone was trying to drill into his skull and beat his brain with their fist.
'Ugh.'
The lights pulsed brighter, each flash burning into Bryan's retinas. His vision began to blur.
A figure stood before him, their outline obscured by a shimmering barrier. Not Farrah's rainbow-like shield, but something different. It looked familiar.
"...white hair... eyes... him?"
The voice echoed, distant and fragmented. The voice sounded female. Something about it made his chest tighten.
The figure shifted, their barrier rippling under an onslaught of attacks. Bryan tried to focus, to make out their features, but everything kept slipping away.
"...skilled... control... emotions... cuts... fire mages... family name?"
Another voice, different but equally scattered. A male this time, and he felt like he heard it before. A bit more and he might be able to figure out who was speaking.
The person holding up the barrier vanished, leaving nothing but darkness in sight.
"What is this filth?"
"Bryan!"
Farrah's voice caused him to shake his head once as his vision cleared. His head felt like it was splitting open, pressure building behind his eyes.
"Stay back!"
He clutched his head, stumbling backward. The training room spun around him.
"You're bleeding."
Bryan touched his face, fingers coming away red. Blood dripped from his nose.
'What is this? I'm bleeding?'
Farrah stepped forward, hand outstretched.
"Let me help—"
"Don't."
His voice cracked.
"Don't touch me."
He pushed past her or tried to. The room tilted sideways.
"Bryan, wait—"
Her voice faded, replaced by static. The last thing he felt was the cold floor rushing up to meet him as darkness claimed his vision.
**********
Bryan woke to white walls and the scent of antiseptic. His head still throbbed.
'Where am I?'
"Now, would you look at that? I'm barely gone, and you're already creating issues."
The familiar voice came from his breast pocket. Bryan glanced down to see Zoltan's head poking out, purple eyes gleaming with what looked suspiciously like amusement.
"Shut up."
Bryan muttered, pushing himself up. His body felt heavy, like he'd been training for days without rest.
A quick look around the room told him he was in a medical ward of some sort.
"How long was I out for?"
He asked.
"I'm not sure. How do you feel?"
Zoltan asked.
Bryan's head still ached, just not as bad as before. It was manageable, and a night's sleep would do him wonders. He just needed rest.
"Fine. Feels like I missed my duel, though."
He commented as he looked at the window that had its curtains closed.
"Oh yeah, that match with the Reinhart boy. I wouldn't worry about it too much. You have bigger issues than some duel."
Zoltan told him, and before Bryan could ask anything else, the door opened as a nurse entered.
She looked at him and furrowed her brow before turning her attention to a device in her hand. It was big and square, not an academic card but something else.
"How are we feeling?"
She asked, checking his vitals as she slid into the seat next to his bed.
"That was quite the training accident."
Bryan looked at her and moved his eyes down to his breast pocket, but Zoltan was absent. The little mouse sure knew how to make fast escapes.
"I'm fine."
"Hmm."
She tapped the device in her hand.
"Who were you talking to before I entered? I don't see anyone."
The nurse asked as she moved her hand in front of Bryan and raised her finger.
"Follow my finger."
She told him.
"No one, just speaking to myself."
He replied to her as he followed her finger as it moved in different directions.
"Do you do that often? Talk to yourself?"
She asked.
"No, just felt the need to entertain myself for a bit, is all. We good here?"
"Your vital signs crashed rather dramatically. We wouldn't want that happening again, would we?"
The emphasis on 'again' made Bryan's jaw clench.
"Oh, that reminds me."
She continued.
"Miss Hayes was in earlier today. Similar issues with magical control."
Her eyes met his.
"Have you two had a chance to interact yet?"
'She's… she can't be a nurse. Who gives out that kind of information?'
Bryan thought, recognizing the subtle probe for what it was.
"We've met."
He said carefully.
The nurse nodded, satisfaction flickering across her features.
"Good. Very good. We would like to ensure that all our students support each other. She's a bit stubborn, but you seem nice enough, so you'll do me a favor and check up on her occasionally, right?"
Whatever gave her the impression that he was a nice guy was way wrong. But he knew what this was, and she was anything but a nurse—a real one, at least.
'Can't even escape when I want to.'
Bryan nodded once.
"Yeah, I can do that."
She handed him discharge papers, her fingers lingering on the forms just a moment too long.
"Your condition doesn't seem to be anything serious. Seems you overtrained yourself, is all. Do be more careful with your training. We wouldn't want to see you back here too soon."
She told him.
"Of course."
Bryan responded, understanding the real message. 'Don't let it happen again.'
"Excellent."
She moved to the door, then paused.
"Oh, and Bryan? Do remember to take your medicine. Every day, without fail."
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
He squinted his eyes, trying to decipher her words.
'What medicine? Is there something I'm supposed to do?'
The Inquisition's reach was deeper than he'd thought, their eyes everywhere – even in the medical wing.
**********
The walk back to his room felt longer than usual. Bryan's body still ached, and the lingering headache made every step a chore.
"Your barriers are showing cracks."
Zoltan commented once they were alone in the room.
"Your condition isn't as good as you think. Take it easy, no need to be on guard here."
Bryan sat on his bed, running a hand through his white hair.
"I am fine, and I'm not dropping my guard. Not now that I know they are watching."
"Really? You're fine?"
Zoltan hopped onto the desk.
"Then explain what happened in that training room."
"Nothing happened."
Bryan replied.
"Nothing? Your nose was bleeding, and you collapsed in the middle of training."
"I was exhausted."
"Exhaustion doesn't make you bleed."
Zoltan's eyes fixed on him.
"Or did something else happen during that fight?"
Bryan stood abruptly, pacing the length of his room.
"You weren't even there."
"I saw enough. The way you stumbled, how you reacted—"
"Shut up."
"Make me. Or better yet, explain why you're so desperate to pretend it didn't happen."
Bryan's head throbbed again. He pressed his fingers against his temples, trying to push back the pain.
"Because it doesn't matter. Whatever happened—it's irrelevant."
"Irrelevant?"
Zoltan's whiskers twitched.
"Collapsing in the middle of training is hardly irrelevant. Your condition—"
A knock at the door cut through their argument. Bryan and Zoltan both froze, eyes locked on the entrance.
Another knock, followed by a familiar voice.
"Bryan?"
Farrah's voice came through the door.
"The nurse said you were discharged. Can we talk?"
"Not now."
Bryan muttered.
"Please?"
Another voice joined Farrah's – Alexander.
"It's about the team."
Bryan's jaw clenched. Of course she'd brought the team captain. His hand hovered over the door handle as Zoltan watched.
'I could ignore them. Should ignore them.'
But the memory of Farrah's words in the training room lingered.
The door opened to reveal Farrah and Alexander, both still in their training uniforms. Farrah's expression shifted from concern to relief.
"You look better."
Farrah said, then quickly added.
"I mean, compared to when—"
"What do you want?"
Bryan cut her off.
Alexander stepped forward.
"We need to discuss what happened. As your team captain—"
"Nothing happened."
Bryan's tone was flat.
"Training accident. It's handled."
"Handled?"
Farrah's voice rose slightly.
"Bryan, you collapsed. Your magic went completely unstable. That's not something we can just ignore as a team."
'As a team. Always about the team.'
"Listen."
Alexander's voice sounded concerned.
"We need to know. We can't function as a unit if—"
"You can't function as a unit anyway."
Bryan's fingers tightened on the door.
"Today proved that."
Farrah stepped closer, and Bryan tensed.
"Today proved we need to work together more, not less. Even you can't be perfect all the time."
Something about her words made his head throb again. A flash of memory – someone saying similar words, long ago.
"Bryan?"
Farrah's concern was back.
"Your nose..."
He touched his face, fingers coming away with a drop of blood. Cursing internally, he stepped back from the door.
"Leave. Both of you."
"But—"
"Now."
He shut the door before they could respond, pressing his forehead against the cool wood as he heard their footsteps reluctantly retreat.
"Well, that was certainly one way to handle it."
Zoltan said.
"Don't."
Bryan wiped the blood away.
"Just... don't."