Chapter 70 - The Drowning Boy

The hush that filled the valley provided an eerie contrast to the lively din of activity that had filled it just moments ago.

The badges on the chests of many students still flickered with light as credits were added or subtracted, but most owners did not pay them any mind. Even the students manning the tables behind which stood the signs with the current odds for the duel had blank faces. Thankfully, the payouts were delivered automatically after bets were closed and the fight was resolved. It was part of an elaborate spell matrix that was subordinated to the arena’s own master spell matrix.

It was no wonder, for this had been one of the fastest reversals of fortune any of the students had ever witnessed. In the beginning, given their obvious difference in size and the fact that the smaller fighter gave off no elemental energy fluctuations at all, the odds had heavily favored the larger student.

After the first arrow had struck, odds had been plunging down at unprecedented speeds. Then, they had been reversed. In the end, not even the attentive students in charge of adjusting the odds and taking in late bets had been able to keep up.

Still, the biggest loser in this whole ordeal was obviously Dalian. Not only had he been beaten mercilessly, with all four of his limbs being broken in several places until he passed out from the pain; he had also lost his class badge and was no longer considered a student at Aegis Academy.

More than a few students had difficulty swallowing past a dry throat as they could hardly imagine a worse way of leaving the academy - beaten senseless, even crippled - by a child whose height did not even reach their own shoulders.

Skyle hardly cared. He had achieved his purpose. He could feel it in the way the crowd wordlessly parted before him without daring to meet his gaze.

He was descending the steps that led away from the arena when the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Maybe it was the heightened sense of awareness that accompanied him still, or maybe it was a product of all the near-death experiences he had gone through in Sanctuary.

In the end, it did not matter. Skyle did not hesitate at all as he made a split second decision and dove right back into through the arena’s barrier. It was a gamble, as he was not certain whether it would allow him to re-enter after the match had already finished.

Thankfully, he slipped through without a hitch. Just in time, too. No sooner had his feet finished crossing the barrier, than a crackling ball of fire exploded against the steps Skyle had just vacated. Though the steps did not even show scorch marks, the rumbling crash of the explosion alone was enough to tell him this was no ordinary foe.

After getting to his feet, Skyle narrowed his eyes as he sought out his silent attacker.

The crowd had cried out in alarm when they saw the explosion, but most stood still as though they couldn’t believe what they had just seen. No one would dare violate academy regulation, and using magic against another student was strictly forbidden.

Only Skyle knew that the same protection did not apply to him. Still, he couldn’t figure out who could be trying to kill him so soon after his last fight. Could it be Dalian’s friends? He quickly dismissed the idea. Not only had they abandoned his former friend without putting up any fight, the fiery explosion had been too violent and sudden. Skyle was sure it would be an Adept.

In the end, it was not hard to spot his attacker. All Skyle had to do was follow the stares of the crowd.

They converged at a point about one hundred feet away from Skyle. There, a tall figure dressed in black robes stalked forward with a remarkably calm expression on his young face. That is, calm for a man who had just tried to murder him in cold blood. He had to be around 18, with thin lips and cruel, uncaring eyes. Skyle could faintly make out three full shields with red stars upon his chest. He swiftly recalled Dalian's words to Roland back at the Hall of Combat.

“Adept Hawthorn?” Skyle asked.

Surprise flashed briefly across his face, but then the calm returned. “You know my name? Good, then you know why you will die.”

Skyle spoke calmly as he made his way to his bow. "I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Adept Hawthorn sighed as he glanced toward his cousin’s fallen figure. “That pathetic excuse of a mage is my cousin. While I frankly don’t care what happens to trash like him, I cannot allow you to sully the name of the family and get away unscathed. It reflects poorly upon me, you see? I’ve worked very hard to establish our family’s reputation within academy grounds, and I cannot let all my hard work go to waste. Already, the disgrace of killing a talentless freak like you will besmirch my reputation. At least it will be better than people running around saying a crippled boy humiliated a member of my family upon the arena. It’s nothing personal, mind. Simple business. I find the whole ordeal an altogether regrettable affair.”

Skyle calmly considered his options while he kept backing away. He considered fleeing into the crowds, but that was not a solution at all. It would take less than a minute for the Adept to weed him out and burn him to cinders. He couldn’t even hope to make it back to the Hall of Combat. Even if the mysterious Adept there chose to help him, he would never be able to reach it before being killed.

Skyle would have happily attempted to threaten Hawthorn with his cousin’s life. However, that shimmering barrier was still protecting his body. He was not sure how his injuries would be treated. Would a staff member of the academy be sent to care for the student, or was the barrier itself providing treatment?

If it was the former, perhaps Skyle could stay in the barrier and buy enough time for a staff member to arrive. Though he was loath to count on their goodwill to save his life, he knew his family name carried great weight within academy grounds.

His mind made up, Skyle picked up the bow he had left on the ground. Next, he began looking for arrows. Most had been broken or bent, and were beyond useless. Only a precious few could be salvaged. Skyle did the best he could, all the while noting that his overconfidence had cost him this time around. He knew he could not have possibly predicted that Dalian’s cousin would arrive at such an inopportune time, much less that he would attempt to kill Skyle without even a word. Still, in the future he would have to remember to always have a contingency plan.

At least, today’s debacle was not completely unsalvageable. So long as he stayed within the barrier, he would be safe.

Skyle didn’t bother wasting words with his would-be killer. Instead, he moved around and scanned the ground for reusable arrows.

“I’m surprised you’re not begging for your life. Do you think the academy will come in time to save your life?” Hawthorn smiled indulgently as he began to take the steps up to the arena.

He was right, of course. Skyle was planning on waiting for the academy staff. It was then that a sudden possibility struck Skyle. Watching Hawthorn’s unpleasant grin grow wider still, Skyle knew he had just run out of time.

Doing a quick count, Skyle realized he had only managed to salvage eight arrows. The rest had been rendered unusable or he had been unable to find them.

Eight arrows against an Adept of the 7th rank. The odds did not favor him. Skyle began to back away from the arena’s entrance until his back was almost to the barrier. He held his bow in a seemingly casual stance. In truth, he was preparing to fire at any moment now.

It was as Skyle had feared. When Hawthorn reached the final step, he kept walking forward and entered the arena’s barrier with hardly a ripple. The barrier was no use in keeping people away anymore. It only served to isolate magical attacks now.

Still, Skyle had been prepared for this worst case scenario. As soon as Hawthorn lifted his foot to enter the arena, Skyle had lifted his bow and let loose with a shot that prioritized speed over accuracy. He must absolutely take the Adept by surprise before he could summon a fire shield like Leon.

Unfortunately, Hawthorn was much more experienced than Dalian. He launched himself into a roll as soon as he entered the arena. The move surprised Skyle, as he hadn’t expected such an arrogant man to throw himself to the ground without any hesitation. This cost Skyle, as his arrow flew wide. Worse still, the surprise delayed Skyle’s next shot by a precious couple seconds.

By the time Skyle nocked a second arrow and let fly, Hawthorn had completed the complex hand gestures he had started as soon as he stepped through. It could hardly have been four seconds since he stepped inside, but the arrow explored into splinters as it collided against a bright layer of red energy. It spread out to form a flat wall in front of the fire mage roughly the same shape as he was.

It was far smaller than the full half-sphere Leon used, but it was more than enough to protect him from any arrows Skyle could launch.

“That was a good try. Unfortunately, I saw how easily you handled poor Dalian with those deadly arrows of yours. I must say, the poor fool picked the wrong cripple to pick on. You are quite skilled.”

Skyle began to nod, then burst into sudden motion as he jumped to one side and shot an arrow from a slightly different angle.

Hawthorn’s shield immediately flickered, moving to face the new threat. It was in place long before the arrow arrived. It exploded a moment later, leaving only a rising cloud of ash and fragments strewn across the sand.

“Good, you have spirit. If I were only an early Adept who had just been promoted, I likely would not have been able to shift my shield fast enough,” Hawthorn praised. “You’re resourceful for a little rat. Seems a pity you will roast in your juices and die here today.”

The Adept’s expression didn’t change at all as he said those last words. Skyle realized that this man was either as dangerous as Skyle himself was, or he was simply crazy. Either way, this kind of ruthlessness boded ill for Skyle.

“Six left,” Skyle counted in his mind.

Skyle immediately nocked another arrow to his bow, but did not lift it yet. Instead, he simply stared at his enemy with cool eyes.

When he saw this, Hawthorn nodded as though to himself.

“You look even calmer than me. It doesn’t even look like you’re hoping one of the students outside will help. You’re not so stupid as to hang your hopes on that. Just in case you’re wondering though,” Hawthorn began to move forward while talking casually. “They won’t. I’m rather notorious within the academy, you see. Not nearly as famous as your little sister, of course. After all, I’m only well known in the arenas.”

Skyle still didn’t say a word, merely watching as Hawthorn drew even closer.

“You could say I’ve carved quite the reputation for myself. Thirty three bouts, one draw, one loss. All my opponents were burned so badly that by the time the barrier intervened, only twenty five of them were able to make a full recovery. Of the rest, two are still convalescing and the rest left the academy on their own.”

Hawthorn smiled then, and it was only in this one moment when his mask of calmness cracked for just an instant. In this one moment, Skyle was able to see the mind of a vicious beast who hunted and killed, not for hunger but rather for the thrill. If he were a snowblade tiger, Skyle’s father would have put it down on the spot.

“How could I let a little freak like you ruin the paradise I’ve found for myself? Here, I can wield my flames as I please, burning people alive in all kinds of delightful ways. So long as I keep winning and getting stronger, no one cares. But this only works as long as I can maintain my image of invincibility. As soon as my reputation begins to suffer, annoying rats will begin to crawl forward and submit complaints about my actions. Then the academy would be forced to act, and they would place restrictions upon me. That would be extremely disappointing. You see now why no one is willing to step forward to help you, and why you must die?”

Skyle simply eyed him cooly. There was no trace of fear or contempt upon his face. To him, all these words were mere wasted air. If anything, it seemed as though his opponent was growing more and more unstable with every word. So, Skyle didn’t mind.

“Haha, you’re truly exceptional. I wonder what they feed you little freaks back in that farm, to make all of you so very outstanding. A pity that I will be long gone by the time your sister’s grown enough that the academy will let me challenge her.” His eyes seemed to grow distant for a moment, and he flicked his tongue over his lips. “Now, that’s one delicious morsel.”

Sensing his opening, Skyle let his face twist into a visage of unbridled fury as he screamed, “You bastard, don’t you dare talk about-”

That was all he had time for before Hawthorn lifted the hand he had been hiding behind his body this whole time and flicked it in Skyle’s direction.

“Azuora!” Hawthorn cried, his eyes suddenly glowing with a crimson fire.

Fire essence gathered upon his extended hand, then transformed into a jet of fire as it rumbled towards Skyle. It formed a stream of fiery gas that burned his vision as it rushed forward to blanket over him.

Skyle had been prepared to launch his counter attack as soon as he detected an opening. Hawthorn thought he had set up a trap for Skyle, but in fact it was the other way around. Pretending to be angry had been the perfect opportunity to prompt his enemy lower his guard and attack. Skyle knew that simultaneously casting a spell while another one was active placed a great strain upon any mage. Thus, he had lifted his bow the instant he saw Hawthorn moving his hand.

Crouching as low as he could while still able to maintain a solid grip, Skyle barely had time to sight his target before launching his arrow. He did have any time to watch his shot, as by then the blinding stream of fire had already been fully cast and was roaring on its way to burn him to ashes.

Skyle’s agonized scream tore into the air as the fire descended, sending out a great shower of sparks before it crashed against the barrier and fanned all around the spot Skyle had been occupying.

Hawthorn’s grin was one of sadistic satisfaction as he eagerly craned his head forward, as though wishing he could see through the clump of flames roaring before him.

Suddenly, he became aware of a throbbing sting upon his ankle. Grunting with pain. Hawthorn glanced down to see a small horizontal cut on the skin just above his foot. It began oozing blood even as Hawthorn watched. He then recalled the last desperate shot the brat had attempted before being consumed by his flames.

When he lifted his eyes to examine the ground in front of him, he had his answer. Barely a few steps ahead of him lay a broken arrowhead with a small impact crater in the sand all around it.

Only then did Hawthorn realize the crazy brat had gone for a bounce shot off the arrowhead on the ground, aiming for the tiniest gap under his fire shield. It suddenly struck him that this uncannily calm boy was not the type of fool who would waste his effort on such a useless maneuver for no reason.

It was to Hawthorn’s credit that he thought of all this in a mere instant before bursting into immediate action. In reality, it looked as though he had barely looked down to the small cut on his leg before glancing up for a fraction of a second. Then he burst into instant motion, diving to his left while urgently shifting the position of his shield and even covering his head with his arms.

Skyle narrowed his eyes even as he jumped back through the barrier and fired an arrow at Hawthorn. His sudden dive had taken Skyle by surprise yet again. He was sure he had not been spotted. After all, Skyle had been careful in lining his body with the incoming jet of fire before leaping backward and screaming as loudly as he could.

His body had flown straight through the barrier, and not an instant too soon. He had barely passed through when the stream of fire crashed against the barrier, blocking his vision. Then he had run around the outside as quickly as he could manage without making a sound.

Barely a few moments had passed before he jumped back in and fired off his shot. However, Hawthorn had either known Skyle had not been struck, or somehow guessed he was being attacked. As twisted as his personality was, his impressive match record in the arena was not without reason. His instinctive dive had undoubtedly saved his life.

Still, the archer was Skyle, and he could not possibly miss a shot from such close quarters. The fire shield flickered into place on the wrong side. In any case, it might have come too late, as Hawthorn had no time to see where he would be attacked from. However, Skyle had not counted on Hawthorn even shielding his head with his arms as he dove aside. It was the only reason Skyle’s arrow struck his arm instead of his head.

Hawthorn let out a savage snarl as he rose to his feet. He turned upon Skyle with a fury that had been absent before, gesturing wildly while uttering an incantation. He didn’t even bother looking at the arrow that had penetrated his arm clean through and cut into his cheek, opening a hideous slash that almost showed his teeth.

Skyle sent one more arrow before jumping back toward the safety of the barrier. That was a mistake, as he had not counted on Hawthorn being able to cast his spell so quickly when aided by a spoken incantation. He must have begun casting the spell right after unleashing his previous spell.

Skyle’s arrow crashed and burned uselessly against the Adept’s fire shield, but he had more urgent things to worry about at that moment.

A bolt of fire streaked in his direction, and Skyle only had time to desperately twist his body around in mid-air, even as he crashed through the magical barrier one more time. This time, he felt the searing heat scorching his back as he rolled on the ground. The smell of singed hair and burned meat assaulted his nose. Skyle grit his teeth as he pushed himself to his feet and bit his lips against the pain.

In truth, his wound did not concern him nearly as much as what he felt when he groped blindly over his shoulder with one hand. Or rather, it was what he could not feel.

The quiver of arrows was gone. It had either been burned right off or had been dislodged by the fire bolt’s impact. The pain from the burns on his back, he could handle. Thankfully, the barrier had still absorbed most of the impact. Skyle was still able to move, although with great pain. However, the lack of arrows was almost a death sentence.

All this time, the crowd had not dispersed. They watched with horror at the brutal fight. Everyone had assumed the senior Adept would dispatch Skyle with his usual cruelty. No one could have imagined that the fight would stretch on for this long, or that the boy would inflict such a hideous wound on one of the top ranked battle mages in the entire academy!

Breathing harshly, Skyle began sprinting along the outer edge of the barrier. By now Hawthorn was already casting a new spell as he began to close in on Skyle. His shield stood at the ready as fire elemental essence began to gather into his hand.

Skyle ignored the fire Adept as he searched the ground. Unfortunately, he could see no arrow at all, even as he increased his speed. Hawthorn could only watch Skyle with a baleful stare as he chased after him at a steady rate. He knew he could not cross the barrier without losing his fire shield. Skyle’s actions seemed to suggest that he was wounded and had run out of arrows, but by this point Hawthorn had grown increasingly wary of this cunning, vicious boy.

When the fire bolt finally took shape within his hand, he cradled it in his fist as he picked up his pace. He was still not rushing, keeping his eyes on Skyle all the while keeping his fire shield in place. If the boy attempted to jump in and fire another arrow, he would be ready to roast him alive where he stood. If he tried to move away from the barrier, Hawthorn would instantly step out himself and rain doom and fire upon his foe.

It was only after a few moments had passed that Hawthorn began to grow restless. He growled in frustration when he noticed that his prey had no intention of either stepping inside or moving away from the barrier. He seemed content to run along the perimeter, always watching Hawthorn’s position but not offering any openings for attack.

The fist that held the fire bolt shook with fury as Hawthorn realized that the boy was playing with him. He would set one foot across the barrier, only to step right out as soon as Hawthorn began to lift his hand in his direction. Cursing at the boy’s shamelessness, Hawthorn wished he dared launch a fire bolt if only to vent his frustration. He knew he stood almost no chance of hitting the boy unless he fully stepped through the barrier. He picked up his pace and vowed that he would make the boy suffer before he scattered his ashes to the wind.

Hawthorn had no way of knowing that Skyle was playing no game at all. He couldn’t afford to. Lines of fire were searing agony across his whole back, and every step he took brought on another hiss of pain. Still, Skyle knew the moment he stopped moving would be the moment he died. Already, Hawthorn was almost on top of him.

Had he been capable of emotion, he might have started to panic right about now. He still could not spot so much as a single arrow, and in truth he was not very optimistic about his chances even if he had a full quiver at his back.

Hawthorn was simply too canny, and he wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice. He was also remarkably patient, methodically closing the distance while always maintaining his fire shield at the ready and the fire bolt held within his grasp.

What was worse still was his gaze, however. Any other exalted Adept stage mage would have been maddened with fury at this point. Hawthorn, however, was still watching Skyle carefully. He looked like nothing more than a snake stalking its prey, preparing that final deadly lunge that would end the hunt.

Even at this point, however, the snake remained cautious. His shield flickered briefly every time the bow in Skyle’s hand rose even a little, even though it was blatantly obvious that his other hand held no arrow at all.

It was then that a flash of inspiration struck Skyle, and he decided to gamble it all on one reckless move.

He had already considered all other options, and they all led to the same fatal ending for Skyle.

It was truly a case of the drowning man who doesn’t care if he must grab onto the tiger’s tail.

Or serpent, as in this case.

For he was drowning, and was fully prepared to grab onto the snake’s tail.

“Still, if I must drown,” Skyle muttered coldly in his head, “Then at the very least I’ll make sure to drag the snake down with me.”