In the evening, inside the old duelists' hall, the scent of sweat and damp earth lingered in the air. Ms. Leona stood at the center, delivering her speech in a deep, masculine voice. Her sword, sheathed in an oil-stained leather scabbard, gleamed at her side. She addressed the students specializing in fencing or those who pursued dual disciplines mostly boys, with a few girls among them.
Today's lesson consisted of light warm-up exercises: thirty-five laps around the courtyard and forty squat-pushups. The exhausted students tried to hide their fatigue and frustration. Some time ago, at their request, Ms. Leona had promised to organize a duel among them. She had seen no reason to refuse it would boost the morale of her new students, as it had always done throughout her years of experience at the academy. They were supposed to draw lots to determine the matchups, but Ms. Leona decided instead to assign them randomly, confident in her decision. The rules were simple: win or lose.
Whoever dropped their sword first would lose. Whoever stepped outside the fighting ring, marked by chalk lines, would lose. And whoever surrendered would lose as well.
The fight would continue until one fencer either lost or surrendered even losing consciousness would be considered a defeat. Ms. Leona made it clear that if they truly wanted to become sword bearers, they would need to endure pain and the rising urge to vomit, for the sword recognized neither noble birth nor common blood.
The rounds of combat began with the students full of enthusiasm. Many fell quickly, their bodies hitting the moist soil of defeat, while others savored the dry taste of victory.
What was meant to be a small gathering for the fencing students and Ms. Leona soon attracted the attention of students from other disciplines. They gathered at a distance, cheering for their peers. Fencing had long been a form of entertainment at important events among noble families and festivals, especially in the lands of Olympus, where the art of fencing was held sacred.
From his place among the crowd, Ethan spotted Nila, the new student he had noticed earlier. She stood in the stands among the other guests, greeting him with a smile, which he returned. Ethan had no friends at the academy his time there, like that of the other students, was approaching a week until Thalia Stromhaide had dragged him to this event, hoping to find some entertainment.
Most students ended up drinking from the shallow pool of defeat, while a few enjoyed the sweet taste of victory. Although it was the students themselves who had requested this duel from Ms. Leona, they now feared facing a fighter with a reputation like his. The members of House Versil were notorious for their mastery of the sword.
When his turn came, he stepped into the arena. His golden hair, paired with the simplicity of his leather sword belt, only enhanced his elegant appearance. He stood ready, waiting for his opponent, while the crowd watched in awe he was a descendant of House Versil, the house marked by the phoenix and the sword. You had to be cautious around them, especially when it came to their expertise.
Since Frenith Versil had been waiting in the center of the arena for some time, Ms. Leona called Ethan forward to face him. Frenith stood there confidently, his eyes tired yet determined. Ethan stepped forward, gripping his wooden sword made from hard oak, just like the others. Now, he was facing his opponent.
Everyone present expected Ethan to lose within two minutes. Frenith had already built a reputation for defeating even older students, drawing strength from his house brothers. A foe like Ethan, they believed, could never match him.
At Ms. Leona's signal for them to begin, Frenith lunged forward with two swift steps, the air rushing past him, and collided with Ethan, who blocked the strikes one after another. Excited shouts rose from around the small fighting ring, its boundaries marked with chalk. Frenith unleashed harsh blows, but they faltered against Ethan, who focused solely on defense, retreating steadily like a lamb edging closer to a precipice. Despite attacking from different angles, Frenith found Ethan an unbreakable wall, always stepping backward but never falling, leaving the spectators astonished at how he held his ground against a cub of House Versil.
What they didn't realize was what Ethan had endured in his family's home during training. His family, renowned for selling the highest quality oak wood, also took pride in forging the "Empty Vermouth Knights" men shaped by the fires of wood and iron. His older brother, Henry, had been merciless in training Ethan, always working to break his spirit and instill in him the unyielding belief that a Vermouth never collapses until he truly measures the strength of his opponent. It was their unbending motto.
Frenith gasped, struggling with exhaustion before the steadfast son of Vermouth, who remained standing, unshaken. Shock spread among the students and especially Ms. Leona, who seemed to be looking at Ethan as if seeing a young Henry once again. Desperate, Frenith forced mana through his body, making his wooden sword harder and speeding up his movements.
However, he still couldn't outmatch the cunning Ethan. With just a touch of mana, Ethan reinforced his sword, countering Frenith's intensified attacks. He remembered all too well how many times Eldric had shattered his sword during their grueling training at Knights' Whisper.
The duel grew fiercer, Ethan deeply focused. Although Frenith's mana was purer and denser, Ethan targeted the weak points of Frenith's weapon, finally snapping the oak sword into splinters. The hilt slipped from Frenith's shocked hand, just as gasps echoed from the gathered students. Ethan stood victorious, blood trickling from his forehead like a stream of hot water across his skin.
Frenith remained frozen in place until, after a long, heavy silence, Ms. Leona declared, "Ethan is the victor."Ethan saluted Frenith with a formal post-duel gesture, which Frenith returned, though with visible hesitation.The day's dueling event concluded shortly after, and the students were dismissed back to their dormitories.
Apparently, many had forgotten that Ethan belonged to the Oak family their blue emblem, featuring a leafless oak tree with countless branching limbs, always flew proudly on their special banners.
The day's dueling event concluded with a brief speech from Ms. Leona before the students dispersed to their dormitories, as curfew hours drew near. Ethan remained behind after bidding farewell to Frenith, who had crossed paths with him once more, along with Neela.He took a hot shower, disinfected the small wound on his forehead, and eventually retreated to his room. Like the rooms of the other noble children at Azoria, Ethan's quarters were spacious, offering enough space to breathe and move about freely.He lay on his hard bed, staring up at the ceiling, his breath restless and uneven. His mind replayed the fierce duel he had fought against the son of House Farsil.
Ethan was well aware that Frenith possessed a rare and undeniable talent. If Frenith stayed on his current path, it wouldn't be long before Ethan could no longer hope to defeat him in a duel.After their match, when Frenith had shaken his hand, it seemed he wanted to exchange a few words — yet, in the end, he withdrew into silence and left Ethan alone with his thoughts.Sweat clung to Ethan's skin, preventing him from finding sleep, as it did every night. He found himself staring out of the second-floor window, gazing at the distant stars.Unable to bear the bed any longer, he rose and approached the window, where the crimson moon hung low, nearing the completion of its 130th cycle since the founding of Azoria Academy known as "The Lantern of the North."
His vision blurred into the glittering night sky as longing for his home in the South washed over him. He was certain that, even now, Eldric would be out training the knights in the courtyard, and that his sister would be tucked away in the office, buried under mountains of paperwork a familiar rhythm to their household ever since Henry left for the capital to serve as a knight in the royal court.
Sleep eluded him, partly due to the lingering effects of his medication.He could no longer be sure if what he was seeing was reality or some fevered hallucination.There, in the sky, he spotted a figure a woman, no, a girl floating gently through the night air. Her face was pale, her beauty mesmerizing, clad in a blood-red dress that billowed around her, and her white hair shimmered like mist, almost transparent against the dark sky.He couldn't tell if it was a trick of Mr. Aurelia's medicine or something real, but the vision the girl seemed to drift closer through the cold evening, her presence chilling and surreal.