Years of expertise at masking her emotions were the only things that kept Tanya from outright gaping. The other spectators, however, held no such advantages and were staring stupefied as one of their own fell to their own machinations. The concept of a Bounded Circle, Tanya knew, was to deter either opponent from leaving the arena until the victor was apparent. It also kept the destruction fest limited within, allowing all spectators to enjoy the event without fear of getting hit by stray hits.

This was the first time they had seen one of their own die at the hands of a stranger within the Circle.

“Th — that,” the spectator to her right mumbled. His voice broke halfway in the attempt, and he needed to pause before carrying on. “... Did that really happen?”

“Yea,” Tanya responded, when it seemed no one would. Her eyes, however, remained glued to Lukas’s form, standing with his fists clenched at the scorched svartalfar husk that had been his opponent.

“Oh,” said her neighbor, before silence once again engulfed the chamber.

…

…

“But that was Hreidmar!” said someone else, a female, this time. Almost immediately, she trailed off, unable to express her sentiments after what had just transpired. She didn’t need to finish, though. Everyone in the session understood what she meant.

“Yeah,” said Tanya’s neighbor.

…

…

Finally, someone snapped. “But that was Hreidmar! He’s — He’s a master at — I mean, that damned Asukan only used Fire, and it wasn’t even, even—” The creature frothed in the mouth, before whipping his head in Tanya’s direction, as if expecting a response.

Tanya wasn’t sure what she could say, but given the growing number of expectant gazes upon her, she feared they’d pitch her on a trial of her own if she didn’t give a satisfactory reply to their unasked question. “I think,” she swallowed, gathering her thoughts, “I think Lukas found a loophole in Hreidmar’s technique.”

“And what is that?”

“You’ll have to ask him.”

Had it been any other svartalfar, they’d have been able to escape Lukas’s constant volleys of flame with some burns and scratches. All they needed to do would be to get to the ground and hide within, and use terramancy to harden their skin from damage. But Hreidmar was an aberration in this case — his lack of physical endurance proved fatal in the last moments. The unfortunate creature had tried to pass through Lukas’s attacks and gotten himself hit in the face with one of them. And once Lukas had made a hit, the next successive hits had tracked their way to his victim during the free fall. By the time his body had hit the ground, the svartalfar was dead.

Lukas had done it, but at the cost of revealing his pyromancy. At least this was svartalf territory, which meant that these people were the last to whisper into the Overseer’s ears, but even then, it wouldn’t hurt to be careful.

But that was not all. Lukas had used Decay. Again. She would never forget feeling that undiluted fear and running for her life, with that monster behind her, wielding fire more corrosive than she had ever known. Only this time, he was in absolute control of himself. Had he perhaps gained the skill from that sludge? How?

The more she tried to decipher the enigma that was Lukas Aguilar, the more she found newer questions thrown at her. Just… What was he?

Her thoughts were silenced as Dvalinn, exalted among svartalfars, stood up from his chair, and stamped the floor a second time. Just like before, a wave of immense pressure furrowed through the podium and traveled along the periphery of the battle arena, causing the Barrier Circle to dissipate.

“The Trial is over!” His voice boomed as he peered at Lukas with an inscrutable expression on his face. “Well fought!”

Tanya suspected that there was more to his words than she understood. Svartalfars were a bloodthirsty lot, but she could trust them on their word. She was certain they’d listen to their proposal now, but how Lukas murdering Hreidmar would affect this process, she did not know.

No, wait. Not murdering. This was a Trial By Combat. And in combat, there is always the chance of death. And they mentioned no rules about any death penalty.

Dvalinn turned idly towards Tanya. “Your accomplice has stood the tribulations of the Trial and come out victorious. As acknowledgement, we’ll hear this proposal of yours.”

Tanya felt her sane brain fall asleep at his statement. “Err… just like that?”

He tilted his head, the way a dog does at a new sound. Maybe he didn’t just get what she was referring to.

“I mean… Hreidmar died.”

“Hreidmar knew the risks,” Dvalinn said, his tone almost genial, “And if I denied you now, then all this will be for nothing. This day has already exacted a terrible toll. Damage to the thirteenth ward stone, a public demonstration of a security flaw, and now our seidmadr’s demise. It is only fitting that some good come out of it through this proposition. However…”

Tanya didn’t think it was possible for his eyes to darken further, but they did. What were originally beads of black now looked like pieces of flints, sucking in light.

“Should we find this proposal unavailing, the consequences would be… dire.”

Tanya hoped her gulp wasn’t audible.

The exalted svartalfar gestured towards the buildings further south. “I assume you’re familiar with our resting halls, Tanya of the fierce wind. Yes, I know who you are. Svartalfars do not forget. You and your associate can wait in one of our halls. You’ll find every essential amenity inside. I advise you to wait there until further notice. So eat, sleep, prepare if you can. The Council shall grant you only one occasion to hear your proposal. I hope you put that to good use.”

Every magic trick was composed of two parts. The first being the trick itself, the execution of it. It was where the magician took something ordinary and performed something extraordinary with it. Like a svartalfar walking on air. But svartalfars were earth-walkers — terraporters, as the term goes. And that led to the second part of the trick.

The Secret.

The ‘How’ factor. It wasn’t aeromancy, and neither was it an illusion. Yet it worked, and the svartalfar walked on air. Magic? Perhaps? An enthrallment of senses? Probably. Maybe one, maybe both, or maybe none. But one thing was clear — once you found the Secret, the trick is no longer mysterious.

No longer… magical.

MONSTER PROTOTYPE: SVARTALFAR

SKILLS

LEVEL

SOUL CAP CONSUMED

Raw Lifeforce Manipulation

1

50

Terraportation

2

500

Friction Manipulation

2

500

Earth Manipulation

2

500

Innate Gravity Control

2

500

Seismic Sensing

2

500

Friction Manipulation. Such an absurdly lopsided skill. Despite being at a decent Level-2, Hreidmar had used it to devastating effect. Combining it with terraportation made him impossibly fast underground, capable of diving from one spot and appearing far away at impossible speeds. Using it with Earth Manipulation made it easier to create traps to catch Lukas off-guard or worse, bury him underground. Usage with Innate Gravity Control — another interesting skill — allowed him to not just stand in air, but float in it with impossible slipperiness.

The secret.

“I had it with me for all this time,” Lukas murmured to himself, “and not once did I even think of its potential applications. All the power of an anomaly, endless skills and monsters to call upon, and despite that, I’d have lost. I… should have lost if not for…”

He gazed upwards at the barrier that was no longer there. The barrier that had been the true game changer in the fight. Without it, his defeat would have been imminent.

This. This was what Inanna had warned him about. The consequences of spreading oneself too thin, the insane idea of absorbing other skills to grow powerful instead of taking what he had and going ahead with it. But no, he had always been charmed by the newer skills, and the new applications he could derive from them, forgetting the ones he had up his sleeve. Somewhere along the line, he had become a one-trick-pony, focussed more on winning fights and siphoning monsters rather than evolving oneself.

In Inanna’s words, a leech.

Lukas clenched his fists.

Not any longer. He’d still siphon, but only to add to his development. An Anomaly grew differently than a human. Its priorities were different. Its growth and nature were different. Forgetting the human to embrace the anomaly would not get him what he wanted. The current way would not work, not if he wanted to get Inanna back. He needed to do more. Become more.

“Lukas?”

He looked up and found Tanya walking towards him. Hreidmar’s charred body was still smoking — an aftermath of being hit by a combination of Decay and Fire. No longer would the creature be able to perform his magic, having lost it to Lukas just after his spirit left his body.

I’ll continue where you left off. Lukas promised the decaying creature. I’ll use everything in my arsenal to take your magic to a level even you’d never have dreamed of. Thank you for teaching me this lesson.

There was no response. Dead men tell no tales after all.

“Lukas?”

“... yeah?”

“You alright?” She took another tentative step forward.

He shook his head. “No, but I’ll be.”

He met her eyes and found them shining with intrigue and concern. “I was afraid things would end badly. Especially in the beginning. And then when that explosion happened, and he went up in the air—”

“You saw him do that before?”

Tanya bobbed her head. “I could never figure out how he did it. Wasn’t Aeromancy but…”

“Something stranger than that.”

“... Yes.”

Lukas said nothing, looking down at the scorched corpse.

“Did you figure it out?”

“What?”

“His secret.”

“I suppose…”

“And?” She drawled, arching an eyebrow. “How did he do it?”

A mirthless grin floated on Lukas’s lips. “The secret impresses no one. It’s the trick that matters.”

“Doesn’t matter. I still want to know.”

Lukas shut his eyes. “I didn’t figure out his secret. Only a momentary loophole. A smudge of sheer, dumb luck acting in my favor. That’s why I’m standing and he’s a corpse. I didn’t win it.”

“A victory by luck is victory too.”

“No.” He remembered Inanna’s green eyes. “No. It is not.”

She touched his arm. “It’s a start. You’ll get better. Stronger. And I’ll help you.”

He blinked.

“... You will?”

“Of course. We’re on the same team, remember?” Her fingers crawled along his arm. “You… you used Decay on him, right? The same one from that sludge in the anomaly?”

Lukas did not react, and instead tried to understand her hesitancy. She had seen him kill that monster and then gain its Decay powers. She had seen him kill his doppelgänger and end up with an aqāru familiar. And now, this was the third death in his hands. Was she — did she think he had siphoned its powers too?

“... Yes,” He replied, wondering what she’d do next.

“Back then, it turned you into an insane monster. Do you… you know, feel any different?”

It took every ounce of control to not blink in surprise. He had been thinking solely out of paranoia. Approaching problems from a more logic-based perspective, with his own bias working against him. He had to shift perspective and re-approach the problem by viewing it through an additional emotional layer.

Then he understood.

Not that she was thinking he had absorbed new powers. She was just afraid he’d turned into that monster from before.

“I… won’t be turning into that monster anymore.”

Tanya caught his gaze and looked away, demurely.

“Good.” She let his hand off. “Now, all that’s left is getting you prepped up.”

“For what?”

“For the meeting, dummy,” she said, “The svartalfar council will see us soon, and… I’ve got loads to teach you about featherglass before you can explain it to them.”

Lukas blinked at her. “Say what?”

Her voice turned wry. “I’ll tell you everything about feather—”

“Not that bit,” He interrupted her, “Why am I the guy doing the explaining? You’ve been here before, you know the rules. You know ‘bout the featherglass and adventuring. So why am I the scapegoat?”

“Because,” she studied him with a critical expression, “it’d give us a greater chance of success.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Appearances and impressions are powerful things, Lukas Aguilar,” she said. “Used correctly, they were weapons in their own right. I don’t know about you, but I want every weapon I can get.”

Lukas scowled at her.

“You’re right. I’ve been here before. I’ve lived here, worked for these people, and forced them into a diplomatic struggle against the Cobalt Army. They know who I am, and they know what I’ve done. And despite that, I’ve brought into their territory a stranger whose immediate first action was to find a flaw in their security system, followed by the death of one of their own.”

“Uh, doesn’t that make me a worse candidate for the job?”

“No. Contrary to mine, your first actions were proving a security flaw, under the guise of proving your worth in front of them.”

“Which everyone with two brain cells knows is bullshit.”

“The Trial says otherwise,” Tanya countered. “You said it yourself. It’s a test of conviction. Truth or lie, you proved your worth in their eyes twice, while not breaking a single one of their rules. And you’ve communicated with them in their own tongue, which is another freaky jar of worms I don’t want to touch right now. You’ve stood by their stipulations and come out ahead. That gives you a very different first impression.”

She looked him in the eye. “Svartalfars do not forget. I think Dvalinn was trying to give me a hint there. I’ve a terrible track record with them, and have done nothing to improve that. He said we have only one chance to offer our deal, and I don’t want to waste that.”

His scowl deepened. “If I fuck up and they bury us six feet under, I’m blaming you.”

“If you fuck up, being buried would be the last thing to worry about. Pissed-off svartalfars usually involve sharp weapons, evisceration, and a lot of screaming.”

Lukas gave her an appraising look. “Fine. What happens now?”

Tanya beamed, grabbing for his hand again. “All sorts of interesting things, Lukas Aguilar. All sorts of interesting things.”