Reborn From the Cosmos

For as long as history could remember, dueling length was ten paces. Too long for a warrior to cross in a moment, yet too short for a caster to feel at ease. It was a distance that demanded strategy, leaving room for both aggressive openings and patient defense.

It was telling that Alana didn’t have to guide Little Water to take a distance; the estrazi clearly had experience with systematic combat. Alana wasn’t surprised; no matter the difference in their race or culture, she didn’t see how people that lived in the north could avoid having a martial temperament.

“Do we need to go over the rules?” Alana asked as she picked up her blade from the ground. She’d debated whether it would be necessary. A part of her still thought an edged weapon was an unnecessary risk given her body’s strength, but she couldn’t bring herself to underestimate an experienced combatant.

Her recent loss to the royal knight was a reminder that, for all of her growth and the advantages offered by her lovers, she was still inexperienced. One day, she would leave the people of Harvest far behind, but she was still growing. More importantly, Little Water was not a product of negligent traditions. Their first clash deserved Alana’s best.

“We do not kill each other,” the lizard woman stated confidently. Alana adjusted her estimation of the estrazi culture, noting it was far harsher than she imagined.

“Can you stop your blows?”

Little Water’s frown was deceptively human; Alana easily read the confusion within. “Spells are impossible to stop and I am not much of a martial fighter.”

“This can get dangerous then.”

“Is that not the point? If fighters didn’t risk getting hurt, they would never learn.”

“That’s one way of looking at it. Here’s the rules. Fatal positioning and count of three. That means a blow in a fatal place equals a point. I’m confident enough in myself, and the succubi no doubt keeping an eye on this, to say that I can stop before I do too much damage and you’re not capable of obliterating me in a single spell.”

“Understood. What is the starting signal?”

“You can handle that, teacher?”

“Sure, sure.” The tiny elemental popped into existence and looped over their heads, trailing blue and white. The estrazi watched the appearance of a creature beyond the world with calm calculation. Alana wondered what it would take to startle the woman: if someone who lived next to an imprisoned dragon was capable of being startled.

“Take your places.”

Alana did, shifting to the stance she’d taken thousands of times, the action as natural as breathing.

Little Water didn’t have a stance. Her arms hung loosely at her sides and her feet were planted firmly, not a state that suggested she planned to move quickly. Her eyes were bright with channeled mana; a caster that held her grond. Depending on her skill, Alana was either her worst match or her easiest prey.

The swordswoman reached for her own mana, readying herself to cast.

“Begin!”

In their established roles, Alana, the martial fighter, should blitz the caster, using overwhelming force to disrupt her focus. Yet, she waited. Her physical ability didn’t only mean overwhelming strength. It meant endurance. She could afford to take her time, something she wished she’d done in her fight against the golden knight. When she could swing her sword for hours, it was smart to take a few minutes to understand her opponent.

So, she circled. She watched the way Little Water tracked her, the way she shifted instead of moving with Alana. Unwilling to be moved. Not as confident in her agility. Alana shifted forward, her steps short and stable.

Little Water’s probe came next. A gust of cold that reminded Alana of home swept through the open field. Her next breath frosted on the air and her skin prickled. A thin layer of frost covered the young grass, brought back to life by Gajin’s hands. It was the breath of winter, an icy wind that sapped strength and halved a fighter’s effectiveness.

As a native of Victory, it was easy to ignore. The spell would numb a normal fighter, but it only shifted Alana’s estimation of her ability to fight for the rest of the day to a limit of several hours, well beyond her opponent’s ability to maintain.

She stepped forward, undaunted.

Her body was tense as she waited for the attack that would force her back, creating space, but it never came. It suggested Little Water wanted her close. Unfortunately, close was Alana’s only option.

There was being cautious, but it couldn’t take the place of action. Steeling her nerves, Alana dashed forward.

The chill deepened. A wall appeared in Alana’s way; she brought down her sword. She expected to sweep it away, but it only cracked. A quick examination revealed the reason; the wall had a curve that bled most of the force from her blow. If she wasn’t so strong, she would have been completely rebuffed.

It was too bad Little Water didn’t have a measure of her strength. The barrier that should have kept her at bay only survived two more blows. She got a peek at the Little Water’s face, at her wide pupils that gave away her surprise.

But that wasn’t the end of the spell. The shards of the broken wall froze as they fell, shooting toward her. Alana countered with own spell. Light encompassed many aspects. Her magic education wasn’t just about variables and advanced spells. It was about the nature of light. One of which was heat.

Summer combated winter as steam rose in a small circle around Alana. The ice that hit her skin had dull edges, dampening her shirt, but doing no damage.

Then the barrage came. Thin, needle-like icicles, aimed at her face and vital points, moving too fast to be weakened by the heat. Alana’s sword flashed, cutting them down, but she wasn’t quite fast enough. They kept coming; she was forced to raise an arm to block one of the projectiles. It bit into her skin, the cold pain making her grit her teeth.

She backpedaled to give herself more time to react; it was only a matter of time until the barrage ended. Though it took longer than Alana thought. She was forced back a half dozen paces. More than enough space and time for Little Water.

As the last of the barrage ended, the shards of ice littering the grass came together in a fierce wave of magic; spikes of ice rose from the grass, too fast and too wide to dodge…if Alana had waited. That was the strength of experience; she didn’t have to always see an attack to know what was coming.

The weakening of the barrage signaled something stronger. Alana threw herself out of the way; it meant she was just fast enough to dodge the spikes. There was no hesitation as she sprinted forward, ready to take advantage of a caster that had overextended themselves.

Little Water stood with grit teeth and narrowed eyes. She could track Alana’s movements, but she was too slow; her arm was taking too long to come up, her spell couldn’t take shape fast enough. Alana’s blade met another wall, but it was too thin; it shattered in a single hit.

Her opposite hand formed a fist and drove into Little Water’s gut. The estrazi doubled over, but, to her credit, the pain of having her breath knocked out of her wasn’t enough to stop her from retaliating. Ice covered Alana’s arm, chilling her to the bone. Heat and light flared, batting it aside.

Her leg snapped out, hitting Little Water in the knee. The estrazi crumbled. In the next moment, Alana’s sword was at her neck, a twitch from drawing blood.

“I surrender,” Little Water said easily, unbothered by the perilous position or her loss.

Alana pulled her blade back and gave the other woman space to climb to her feet. “Again?”

That drew a grimace. “I don’t have the mana. Even one spar nearly emptied my core.” She gestured to their surroundings with a hand. “The lack of water means I have to overcompensate for my spells significantly.”

Something Alana had overlooked. Their spar wasn’t a great representation of the other woman’s skills as the environment put her at a disadvantage. In the north that was steeped in ice year-round, Little Water would have far more advantages. It made her decision to chase Lou south all the crazier; she’d not only sneaked into hostile territory, she’d done so while severely weakened.

“Good fight.”

“Hardly. But I’ve never been good at fighting. A little, as always.”

With her head bowed in melancholy, Little Water missed the way Alana’s features tightened. She’d forgotten what Little Water’s name meant. She was a good fighter, with incredible command of her magic. Alana would wager that she was well beyond the kingdom’s soldiers, the equivalent of an acolyte of many years. Yet, among her people, she was considered untalented. A waste.

Alana thought she finally understood why her brother was so desperate for peace between their people. If he’d been given a glimpse of the estrazi’s power and if it was immense as she was starting to suspect, it made sense that he would put his life on the line.

“Well, you’re good enough to look after yourself, but not good enough to take on the royal knights. Stay close to us.”

“Of course. That was always my intention.”

Alana walked over to her scabbard, sliding her sword home. “Trying to suss out Lou’s secrets? I wouldn’t try anything. She’s not as simple as she looks.”

“No agent of the Outsider would be. I would like to know more about her, but for my own sake, not the brood’s.”

“Your own sake, huh? Suppose I could use a break.” Alana dropped to the grass, crossing her ankles. Little Water walked over, folding her legs underneath her. She held out her hands; bowls of ice appeared in her palms and filled with water.

“Thanks,” Alana said as she accepted the one extended to her, manners not allowing her to tell the other woman she had a bottle tucked out of sight behind the small boulder she used for strength training. Little Water’s offering was better anyway, the chill refreshing to her heated body. “Warning you now, there are things I won’t answer.”

“But I am free to ask?”

“It’s not a crime.”

“Then, what does Lou look for in mates?”

Alana kept from spitting in the other woman’s face, but it was a near thing. She gaped at the estrazi. “Weren’t you in love with my brother?”

Little Water’s tail thumped the grass. “Khan has tried to explain love to me. A feeling toward another that tells you to keep them close, that allows them to comfort you, and the desire to mate, mixed. An instinct that supersedes logic and circumstances.”

“You don’t sound impressed.”

“It’s hard to understand. By that definition, the estrazi do not feel love.”

“…at all?”

“Mates are sought after for ability. If a male was to lose his ability to sire strong children, why keep him around?”

“And Khan? Could you even have kids with him?”

“No. Khan’s ability is tied to his station. He could not give me children, but he could give me influence.” Alana’s lips pressed together tightly. Something the other woman clearly noticed from the way she ducked her head, avoiding her gaze. “I understand this sounds harsh. However, it is better to speak truthfully, is it not? I never lied to Khan. Lies steal the power from words.”

“Admirable,” Alana said, letting the sarcasm drip from her words. “You may as well give up. Lou needs love.” Or at least the ability to emulate it so well it didn’t matter, but Alana kept that to herself. There was something about Little Water’s detachment that rubbed her the wrong way. Talia might not share their romantic love, but the woman at least had passion for something. The estrazi was as cold as the north. Alana accepted that Lou had a big heart and wandering eyes, but she was within her rights to reject suitors she disapproved of.

Even before Lou knew of them.

“Hm. Perhaps another servant. I’m sure I can be as useful as the human youths.”

“I wouldn’t bet on that.”

The soft rejections didn’t seem to deter Little Water in the slightest.

Alana felt the beginning twinges of a headache as she anticipated a long summer.