The academy was quiet at night, the hallways dimly lit and eerily still. Most of the students were asleep, recovering from the day's intense training sessions. But not Inarius. Sleep had eluded him yet again, so he found himself heading to the training grounds, sword in hand, hoping a few hours of practice might clear his restless mind.
When he entered the training area, he froze.
Illyana Rasputina was already there. She stood in the center of the room, her sword—a radiant, otherworldly blade—glowing faintly in the dark. She looked up when she heard him approach, her piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly before she relaxed.
"You again," she said with a smirk, her Russian accent giving her words a sharp edge. "Couldn't sleep?"
"Something like that," Inarius replied, shrugging as he stepped into the room. "What about you?"
"Nightmares," she said simply, then tilted her head toward his sword. "You here to train?"
"Yeah. You want to spar?"
She grinned, her expression equal parts playful and dangerous. "Sure. But don't cry when I beat you again."
Inarius chuckled. "We'll see about that."
The sparring match started slow, both of them testing each other's reflexes and movements. Illyana moved with fluid precision, her sword a blur of light as she struck. Inarius parried her attacks, his own blade meeting hers with a metallic clang that echoed in the empty room.
As the match intensified, Inarius realized just how much she had improved. Her strikes were faster, more calculated, and her use of magic added an unpredictable element to her fighting style.
But Inarius wasn't the same fighter he was a few weeks ago. His reflexes were sharper, his movements more deliberate. He anticipated her next swing and sidestepped, countering with a quick strike that forced her to backpedal.
"You've been practicing," she said, her voice breathless but impressed.
"Gotta keep up," he replied, dodging a burst of magic she sent his way.
They fought for nearly an hour, neither willing to give the other the satisfaction of victory. Finally, they both stepped back, panting and grinning despite their exhaustion.
"Call it a draw?" Inarius asked.
"Fine," Illyana said, sheathing her sword. "But next time, you're going down."
They sat down on the floor of the training room, catching their breath. The silence between them was comfortable at first, but eventually, Illyana broke it.
"Do you ever think about... Limbo?" she asked, her voice quieter now.
"All the time," Inarius admitted. "After absorbing some of your memories, it's like part of me was there too. It's... horrifying. I don't know how you survived it."
Illyana's expression darkened. "Barely," she said. "Limbo takes everything from you—your innocence, your sanity. But you find a way to keep going. Or you don't."
Inarius nodded, unsure of what to say. He'd seen glimpses of what she endured, but he knew those glimpses barely scratched the surface.
"What about you?" she asked, looking at him. "How do you deal with all the things you've absorbed? The sins, the memories?"
"I don't know," he admitted, his gaze distant. "I try not to think about it too much. If I let it all in, I'm afraid it'll break me."
They sat in silence for a while before Illyana spoke again. "The Beyonder," she said, her voice tight with anger. "What he did to us—to my team... It's like dying and coming back broke something inside us. Even now, I don't feel... whole."
Inarius looked at her, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he said. "You didn't deserve that."
"No one deserves that," she replied. Then, after a pause, she added, "But thanks."
They walked back to their rooms in silence, the weight of their conversation lingering in the air.
When they reached their doors, Inarius hesitated before speaking. "If you ever need to talk—or spar—I'm here," he said.
Illyana looked at him, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then she nodded. "Thanks. Same to you."
She disappeared into her room, closing the door softly behind her.
Inarius stood there for a moment, then turned and headed into his own room. Empath was thankfully asleep, snoring softly. Inarius set his sword down, climbed into bed, and closed his eyes.