Luscien contemplated death.

  His whole body was screaming, one arm was virtually useless, and his glasses had been cracked so much he could hardly see. Vaeril’s attack had been completely overwhelming, and he hadn’t even sensed it until it was already crushing him. The only time he’d been injured worse was during the exam—the last time he had fought Kieran.

  He wanted to just let the spear run him through. Dying seemed easier than prolonging this futile battle.

  Am I the only one seeing clearly? He wondered as his body moved on autopilot, deflecting one of the ice blades and twisting around the spear. Or was Eryndor lying to bolster my confidence? Why?

  Corrin was evolving at an incredible rate—every clash with Kieran seemed to sharpen him further, even as their stamina flagged. And Kieran was no different, expanding his technique past its limits in the midst of battle. Luscien couldn’t help but feel a tinge of envy as he watched the two of them. How long had it been since he’d felt as they did?

  A sweeping blow from Kieran’s spear knocked Corrin through the wall of a nearby building, leaving Luscien alone. For some reason, he kept fighting, using his tails to bash away the shards of ice.

  “Come on Luscien!” Kieran roared, spinning his spear around and ramming the butt into Luscien’s chest. “Show me your despair!”

  Luscien spit out blood, and Kita lunged in from the side. Kieran contemptuously batted him to the ground.

  “I’ve had enough of you, mutt.” He drove the spear straight through Kita’s body, and Kita’s pained screech was cut short as his blood splattered onto the stones and he went limp.

  “No!” Luscien screamed, reaching out a useless hand.

  Kieran smiled, pulling his spear out of Kita’s disintegrating corpse. “That’s better! I was wondering what it would take to draw some real blood from you. Look at me Luscien… Look at me!”

  Luscien tore at him, tails lashing out ferociously. A blade of ice pierced his shoulder and he lost his balance, toppling onto the stone.

  “You know something Luscien? I lied to you. The truth is, I don’t hate you because of the exam. No, I’ve always hated you, from the start.”

  A sharp blow impacted Luscien’s ribs as he tried to rise, and he tumbled across the ground. Kieran lowered his foot.

  “You have those eyes. Those same damned eyes!” His voice cracked just a bit. “Even though I’m stronger than you… Even though I could crush you like a bug—why has nothing changed?” Kieran kicked him again, and Luscien cried out in pain. “You pass the exam! You inherit your house! Your father—” Kieran cut himself off, breathing heavily before letting out a raw scream. “Damn it!”

  Stone and wood shattered as Kieran lashed out in anger, tearing up the surroundings. As the dust settled, he grew quiet again. “I’ve always hated you, Luscien, but that all ends today. I don’t care if you’re blessed. Even if you’re one of the chosen, even if you’re special—when I kill you, it won’t mean a damn thing!”

  Luscien’s eyes widened. What had Kieran just said? Ignoring the pain in his body, Luscien rolled over onto his back. Through the cracked glass, he looked up into Kieran’s eyes. Rage burned on the surface, hotter than any flame Luscien could produce, but just then, the rage didn’t seem like it was entirely directed at him, and there was desperation bubbling beneath it.

  Kieran stood up from his knelt position, spinning his spear around and holding it above Luscien’s chest.

  “I win,” he said, thrusting downwards.

  Corrin slammed into him from the side, plunging his sword into Kieran’s armor just before the spear found its mark. They rolled across the ground before soon breaking apart. Kieran stood back up, checking his wound as he glared hatefully at Corrin, who staggered to his feet as well, panting.

  “Got you again, bastard,” he managed. “Pay attention. I’m still here. You alright Luscien? Luscien?”

  Luscien pushed himself up until he was sitting on his knees, arms limp at his side. He took another long, pained breath, then slowly reached up and removed his glasses—they were so shattered they might as well be useless. Dazed, he looked over in Kieran’s direction.

  He thinks I’m the special one? Luscien almost laughed. Are you kidding me?

  His head was pounding, and his vision was even blurrier than it should have been. Actually, his whole mind was fuzzy, like he was thinking in a fog. It was probably fatigue, combined with a healthy dose of blood loss. So many butterflies had gathered around the area, feasting on the aura-rich blood they’d spilled. Was he in the right? He had to be… obviously Kieran had no idea what he was talking about. Was he the only one who could see clearly? In the haze, he found his thoughts drifting back, to his travels with Eryndor.

  Why… am I remembering this now?

  ***

  The sun was setting as Luscien stared into the depths of their crackling campfire, nursing a bruise on his shoulder from a sparring session.

  “I keep telling you to better guard that right side of yours,” Eryndor laughed as he poked a stick into the coals, adjusting the flame. For whatever reason, he insisted on not using mana to ease the process. “It’s an easy weakness to exploit once you notice it.”

  “Do you have to give such a painful reminder each time though?” Luscien grumbled. “Just point it out.”

  Eryndor chuckled. “Your enemies won’t be half as nice as I am. Besides, it doesn’t befit a spirit knight to be afraid of a little pain. Is that why you haven’t joined a team yet?”

  “How’d you know about that?”

  “Did you think I chose an apprentice on a whim?”

  Luscien didn’t want to admit that he had thought exactly that. “I guess… I don’t exactly like pain, but that’s not why either. Maliah—my friend invited me to join her team, but I just wonder if there’s a point. I’d only hold her back.”

  “What makes you say that?” Eryndor pulled the stick out of the fire and grabbed a piece of meat they’d picked up at the last town, skewering it and beginning to cook it.

  “Isn’t it obvious? I’m mediocre at best—no, I’m at the bottom of the combat rankings, so I’m actually weak. I’m surrounded by so many special people, but I’m just not one of them.”

  “Special? Do you mean in talent? I think you’re plenty talented.”

  Luscien shook his head. “Does being talented really mean anything? I can learn things quickly, sure. But there’s nothing behind it. I’m just an empty shell. There’s nothing pushing me onwards, or making me fight. I look at my classmates and it’s easy to see—they’re destined for great things, and I’m not.”

  “Ah, I see. Well, I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from.”

  “Somehow I doubt that.”

  “It’s true,” Eryndor insisted. He looked upwards thoughtfully. “But you’re not the type to believe me, are you? So let me just say this: I don’t know if anyone is really ‘special’, or destined for greatness, but the biggest fool is the one who thinks he knows what the future holds, be it for himself or others.”

  Eryndor suddenly dropped the stick holding his steak, and it fell into the hungry flames below. Luscien looked up in confusion at his mentor. But Eryndor’s eyes were calm, staring right back into his own.

  “Don’t let yourself be trapped by your own inhibitions, Luscien. Give it your all, and follow your path through to the end.”

  ***

  Blood from the wound on Luscien’s shoulder trickled down his arm, joining the rest pooling on the ground. His head was still spinning. How much time had passed while he’d been lost in thought? It must have only been a second or two, because Corrin and Kieran hadn’t moved.

  “Luscien!” Corrin was yelling. “Are you alright?”

  Someone started laughing. Where was it coming from? Belatedly, Luscien realized it was coming from his own lips, laughter dry and hoarse. It came harder and harder, until he was coughing from the pain.

  Luscien looked down at the blood again as the coughing died down, then back over to the mound of ash where Kita had died.

  Sorry buddy. I’ll buy you a mountain of treats if I survive this.

  “Corrin!” he shouted. “Can you buy me some time? I need one minute.”

  “Huh? Are you trying to get me killed?” Corrin yelled back angrily. “Get your ass up and get over here!”

  “One minute.” Luscien said, looking Corrin right in the eyes.

  After a moment, Corrin set his jaw. “I take it this means we’re going to win?”

  Luscien laughed again, throwing his arms up. “Who knows? Certainly not me! But why not give it our all, right?”

  Corrin’s eyes widened, then his face twisted into a grin. “Okay then. Sixty seconds? Yeah, I can do that.”

  “Strategizing right in front of your opponent?” Kieran said. “Bold. If you think he’ll last even thirty seconds against me, you must be crazy Luscien.”

  “Maybe I am! Or maybe you are!” Luscien yelled. “But there’s only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

  He turned his attention away from the battle completely, dipping his finger into the blood below. It was his blood, rich in his own aura. He began to draw furiously, eyes focused on the ground as the sounds of battle raged just ahead. Soon, his focus narrowed even further, and the noise faded out entirely. His fingers ran over the rough stone, tracing out the same shapes he’d drawn a thousand times before. He drew faster, spreading his own life out around himself faster and faster and faster and—

  And then, it was done.

  Breathing heavy, eyes wide, Luscien stood up and looked down at his family’s ritual circle, and the barrier that had held him back for seven years. He brought his hands together, forming the two-fox handsign, and drew deeper on his bond than he ever had before.

  “Fox transformation! Fourth tail!”

  Flames erupted around him, tracing the path of the circle, spiraling upwards as they burned hotter and hotter. Then, like water down a drain, some of the flames dove back down, crashing into his body and scorching him, inside and out.

  Scalding pain covered every inch of his body—the price of the fourth tail—a baptism of fire. Each successive ritual required greater mana control than the last, but some, like the fourth, had a trial beyond that as well. He couldn’t begin to understand why the technique had been designed that way, and the complexities of the ritual were beyond his understanding, but Luscien was certain that his ancestor had been a masochist.

  He screamed. Trying to control so much mana was like trying to direct the flow of a river with a spoon, but he clamped down harder, pouring every ounce of concentration into the ritual. In a strange way, the fact he’d been in immense pain before the start of the ritual actually hardened his resolve.

  Luscien’s vision went white, and the fire became all.

  ***

  Corrin clutched at the spear wound in his side as Kieran charged straight for Luscien, who was standing over the ritual circle. Corrin recognized it immediately.

  “You crazy son of a bitch,” he choked out, trying to direct aura to his wound to stem the bleeding. He’d tried, he really had, but Corrin hadn’t gotten to a full minute—it had been an impossible task from the start, the gap between him and Kieran was too large, even if he didn’t have to protect Luscien from deadly blades of ice.

  Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  But it looked like he’d held out just long enough.

  Just as Kieran reached him, the circle around Luscien caught fire, shooting a pillar of flames upwards until they crashed against the bottom of the platform above, scorching the stone. Kieran was forced back by the sheer intensity of them.

  In the heat of the moment, he forgot all about Corrin, which was good, because Corrin was having a hard time moving. But not even ten seconds later, the ritual finished, and the spiraling flames vanished from the ground up, leaving Luscien alone in the circle, his skin reddened and steaming, his eyes closed.

  With a sharp intake of breath, they opened, and flames roared to life around his entire body. Four fiery tails stretched out behind him, flicking back and forth excitedly.

  Luscien glanced at Corrin, sighing in relief as Corrin gave him a thumbs up. Next he turned and stared straight at Kieran, who stepped back, aware of how Luscien's technique worked.

  Like a child learning how to walk for the first time, Luscien took a single step, then slowly lowered himself onto all fours. Then, he shot forward in a burst of fire.

  Kieran desperately thrust his spear, but Luscien slipped past in a blur, already moving to Kieran’s flank. A fiery claw tore across his icy armor, shattering it and sending Kieran skipping like a thrown stone.

  Before he could recover, Luscien burst forward again. To Corrin’s eyes, it looked impossible—Kieran was still tumbling over the ground when Luscien streaked past him, leaving scorching red imprints where his paws touched the ground. He spun, and his arm swept out like a hooked line, catching Kieran just below the chest and slamming him into the earth.

  A blade of ice swung wildly at him, but Luscien slapped it away with one tail while another wrapped around Kieran’s waist and threw him into the air.

  While Kieran soared upwards, Luscien got back on all fours, a fireball swirling to life in each of his tails. A moment later, he launched them like stones from a catapult. All four hit Kieran dead on and exploded, filling the air with crimson roses and sending Kieran hurtling back down.

  “Shit…” Corrin chuckled as he watched. “Alright, I’ll admit it now. You can kick my ass.”

  Lusien looked back and smiled. “Thanks for buying me time.”

  “No problem. Think you got him?”

  “Let’s find out.” Luscien walked towards where Kieran had fallen. His armor had completely shattered, and his robes were torn and burnt. He wasn’t moving, but as Luscien approached, he coughed, and forced his body up.

  “You lost Kieran,” Luscien announced. “Surrender.”

  Slowly, Kieran reached into his robes, withdrawing a chunk of ice which had somehow survived the battle. In his hand, it melted away, revealing a syringe filled with a shimmering black ooze. Before either of them could react, he plunged the needle into his heart, coughing up blood.

  “Fuck you.”

  Thick, warm air drafted out from where he stood, like the earth itself was sighing. In an instant, Kieran’s body swelled up, twisting and morphing as it grew darker and larger until it had almost quadrupled in size, taking a shape like a massive, blackened egg.

  Corrin forced himself up with a groan. His channels protested as he drew on more mana, but his body still moved. “That’s probably not good.”

  “Certainly not,” Luscien agreed. Casually, he threw another fireball at it, then winced as the blast didn’t even scratched the surface. “Look how much mana it's drawing into itself. It’s like some sort of cocoon. What was in that syringe?”

  Corrin didn’t like that analogy, or what it implied. “Your guess is as good as mine. Do you have a plan?”

  “Working on it…” Luscien cursed under his breath, walking towards the cocoon, his four tails fading. He bent down and started drawing another circle in blood, much slower than before. “You’re injured too, get over here and help me. I don’t know how long we have.”

  “I don’t know how to draw magic circles,” Corrin apologized, limping over.

  “Nonetheless, I require your blood. Just do as I tell you, and keep those butterflies away from it.”

  Several minutes later, they’d completed another circle in blood, encircling the cocoon. It was much simpler than the one Luscien had drawn before.

  “It’s a much simpler effect,” Luscien explained when Corrin said as much. “I’ll set it off as soon as he emerges.”

  No sooner had he said it than the cocoon began to shudder, pulsing with a violet light from within.

  “Get back!” Luscien yelled, grabbing Corrin with his tails and leaping away.

  A hand burst through the membrane, grasping at its surface and dragging the rest of its body from within in jerky, lurching movements. It was too covered in goop for Corrin to make out its features—other than it being humanoid—but as soon as its leg emerged, Luscien detonated the circle. Explosions lit the dark, one after another so rapidly that Corrin couldn’t count them all. For ten whole seconds, the cocoon and the creature within were blasted by the might of mana, and Corrin heard agonized screaming from within.

  When the flames died down, the cocoon had vanished. In the middle of a smoking crater in the street, only Kieran remained, coughing and groaning—but alive. And he had changed.

  He had grown several inches, draped in the tattered remains of his once-pristine combat robes. A mane of ragged silver hair spilled down his back, and his skin had grown pale, marred by strips of black. His left arm had turned completely to ice, cracking and reforming as it moved, and a tail of thin blue flames trailed from his back. Where it touched the ground, frost formed, the flames burning cold rather than hot.

  He looks like some kind of monster, Corrin thought, forcing mana in with his breaths.

  “Apotheosis.”

  Kieran’s voice was quiet, but it carried up as his familiar icy armor began to reform. “By taking His blood into your own body, you open yourself up to metamorphosis, and ascend towards divinity.” He flexed his hand testingly. “But a perfect being is incapable of growth or change. Once you take the elixir, you cannot attain further strength, and so I didn’t want to do this until I was ready.”

  Luscien’s mantle ignited again, his eyes narrowing. He took a step forward, and Kieran did the same. The two began walking towards each other, picking up speed with each step until they blurred. Fire and ice clashed in an explosion of steam, and Corrin covered his face as his skin stung from the heat. Luscien landed next to him, thrown by the blast.

  Laughter bellowed up from the steam where Kieran stood. “Incredible!” He yelled. “So much power at my disposal! So this is how it feels? Premature or not, I like it.”

  “Something feels off,” Luscien muttered, wiping blood from his lip. “What did he do?”

  Corrin shook his head. “Doesn’t matter right now. We just have to kill him.”

  “Agreed. Can you still fight?”

  “I’ll manage.” Corrin shooed away the swarm of butterflies healing his side. A glance at Luscien told him that his ally wasn’t in great shape either. Even the flames comprising his tails were unsteady, like he was having a difficult time maintaining the form.

  “He’s going to be focused on me right now, so look for an opening and hit him with everything you have. That aspect of yours is deadly.”

  “Got it.”

  “Come on Luscien! You get to be my test run!” Kieran screamed. “Let me show you!”

  He held his arms out to the side, the familiar spear forming from condensation once more. But he wasn’t done, as a whole swarm of blades formed around him, wasting no time streaking across the gap.

  Corrin threw himself to the side, barely avoiding the barrage. Luscien dove straight in, exchanging a frenzy of blows. Kieran’s technique dove through the air like a flock of birds, forcing Luscien to dodge, darting through the hail of blades. He was faster than Kieran, but it didn’t seem like his attacks were able to do much damage anymore, and any time he tried to throw a fireball, it was countered by a blade.

  As Luscien retreated further, Kieran advanced relentlessly, and Corrin ran on screaming legs, trying to get around and behind him. Thankfully, it seemed he couldn’t direct such a large number of shards with independence, and so while they were focused on Luscien, Corrin was free to move.

  He spotted an opening and dashed in, gritting through the pain and slashing across Kieran’s back. His sword scraped off like nothing.

  His armor’s even thicker than before!

  “Not good enough!” Kieran laughed, sweeping his arm out.

  Corrin leapt away, but as the icy fingers grazed his stomach, he felt a sharp pain. Frost formed on his robes and the sweat on his skin flash froze. Without a mantle, just touching Kieran’s arm was enough to harm him on its own.

  As the swarm of blades bore down on him, Corrin tried to dodge, but his legs faltered just for a moment, and he stumbled. He threw up his arms helplessly, but just before the attack connected, the shards shattered, breaking into tiny crystals that scattered harmlessly.

  Purple-black blood spattered onto the ground as Kieran coughed it up, shaking. Luscien tried to capitalize, but he quickly turned and reengaged with a groan.

  Kieran was still injured, Corrin realized. Even if he had plenty of mana, his transformed body seemed to have retained at least some of the damage. Or perhaps Luscien’s trap had worked wonders. Either way…

  He’s hiding it, but he’s still on his last leg.

  Gripping his sword tighter, Corrin found the strength to rise. His body was on fire, every muscle screaming at him to stop. If he kept fighting, he’d start to tear himself apart.

  Ash flooded his body as he took a final breath, and Corrin began to run.

  The battle between Luscien and Kieran was moving towards a part of the city that was still somewhat intact. He needed to get above them—a regular strike wouldn’t be enough—the air was his only chance.

  Leaping and climbing, Corrin made it to the top of one of the tree’s roots, arching over the city street below.

  “Luscien!” He screamed, catching his partner’s attention as he pulled every ounce of aura he had left onto his blade. Their eyes met.

  Please… understand!

  Luscien suddenly charged in recklessly, which he took as a sign.

  I don’t need it in my body. It wouldn’t do him any good while he fell. I don’t need it in my eyes. Kieran’s techniques were visible anyways.

  Completely unenhanced by mana, Corrin leapt from the root.

  Knocking the spear aside, Luscien wrapped his tails around Kieran’s waist. Kieran brought it back around, and the spear bit into Luscien’s side. But instead of countering, Luscien twisted, hurling him into the air below Corrin.

  Corrin drew his blade back, and everything fell away. Kieran roared, thrusting an arm upwards, and something struck Corrin’s leg, but he ignored it. There was only him and the sword. With every ounce of his being, he forced mana onto its edge, relying on feel.

  Envision it! Not just a normal strike—something more! Every drop of power, squeeze it out! A blow that can destroy anything in its path! An all-encompassing, world-devouring…

  “Eclipse.”

  Darkness and light tore downwards together, and the air around his blade screamed as crackling mana surged downwards—a black tide edged in white.

  The blade struck Kieran’s armor right at the waist, and it shattered like glass. Nightsteel cut deep into flesh, and the energy blasted outwards, tearing through his body and launching him back down to earth like a meteor cast out of the heavens.

  Completely exhausted, Corrin fell limply towards the ground. For a moment, he thought he’d die from the impact, which would have been a sad way to go, but then he felt warm arms catch him out of the air, and they landed lightly a second later.

  “Thanks…” he muttered deliriously.

  “Congratulations,” Luscien said quietly. “You’ve achieved manifestation.”

  Corrin just giggled. He felt dizzy. “Did I get him?”

  Luscien slowly set him down on the ground, putting Corrin’s arm over his shoulder for support. The two of them limped over to where Kieran had landed, in the ruins of a retaining wall he’d hit on the way down.

  Kieran’s body had been torn apart by the blow, and nothing below his waist remained. Somehow, he was still breathing, though each breath was weaker than the last. His eyes drifted up towards them, hazy and unfocused. One of them had been changed by his transformation, turning almost entirely black—but one silver, human eye remained.

  “I hate you,” he whispered, voice breaking. A tear ran down from his silver eye. “I hate you. I hate you…”

  Corrin couldn’t tear his gaze away as tears began to stream down Kieran’s face. At that moment, the person he’d killed sounded no different than a crying child.

  “I can’t lose. I’m not weak… I promise I’m not. Look at me. I’m not…”

  Stumbling forward, Corrin fell to his knees just in front of Kieran, and grabbed his flesh-and-blood hand, holding it with both of his own. He felt no remorse about killing him—it was definitely justice. But still…

  “Until the very end,” Corrin whispered, “you were strong.”

  Kieran’s face didn’t change, but his hand tightened around Corrin’s, just for a moment. Then, it grew limp, his eyes fluttered shut, and the last of life faded from his body.

  “That was kind,” Lusicen said.

  Corrin let out a breath. “I killed him. I don’t regret it. But I didn’t hate him. At one point, he wanted to be a spirit knight, the same as me, and yet he ended up here. I realized it right at the end—we were enemies, but I never really knew anything about him. And for some reason, seeing him cry like that? It just made me a little sad.”

  “That makes one of us.”

  “Can’t blame you for that,” Corrin chuckled. He stretched his arms up and took a deep, mana-empty breath. It still hurt, but he let out a louder laugh of pure relief. “We actually won didn’t we?”

  “We won.” Luscien’s voice was tinged with disbelief.

  Corrin fell onto his back. “We won!”

  Luscien dropped to his knees, laughing. “Kings be damned, we actually won. We’re still alive.”

  “Didn’t I tell you?”

  They just lay there for a time, laughing as relief flooded their bodies, until eventually, Corrin pushed himself back up slowly. “I think we’ve done our part yeah? Wanna check out the—oh shit, my leg doesn’t work.”

  He faltered getting up as he realized he couldn’t put any weight on his left leg. In fact, as the battle-high faded, it was starting to hurt more and more. He looked down at it and cursed. It was already swelling, and he could see bone poking through the skin.

  As the pain really began to set in, Corrin hissed and howled and cried. “Kieran, you son of a bitch! You broke my leg! I take it all back! Ow!”

  Luscien grabbed his shoulder, grunting. “Come on, I’ll help you walk. Keep your weight off of it until we can get you to a healer.”

  “Wait—” Something caught Corrin’s eye, and he shoved down the pain as best he could. “I didn’t notice it before, but look below his chest.”

  Reaching out, Corrin’s fingers brushed against a smooth, blue sphere, about the size of his fist, jutting out from Kieran’s chest. The bulk of it seemed to be sitting somewhere between his heart and stomach.

  Luscien inhaled sharply. “Is that—?”

  “Yeah.” Corrin knew what he was looking at all too well. He’d seen thousands of them before. “It’s a monster core.”