The smell of bacon and eggs raised Shaya from her slumber and she concluded that it had to be the best way to be awoken – or at least one of the best. Her feline eyes blinked open as Bri slipped into the room with two plates of steaming food, sitting down on the bed and handing one of the plates to Shaya as she sat up.

“I can’t believe you cooked and served me breakfast in bed,” Shaya said with a smile, sensitive nose inhaling the delicious scents and noting with extra pleasure the sharp hint of spicy sauce, “you’re amazing.”

“It's closer to lunch, given how late you slept in,” Bri replied with a smile of her own, “and I actually had Samorn do the cooking”

“Well then,” Shaya grinned, “you’re actually the best!”

“I know my strengths,” Bri said with a laugh as they put their backs against the wall and dug into the food, “and Astoria’s monasteries focus more on inflicting righteous wrath than the finery of cooking.”

“A strength which I value and admire just as much,” Shaya assured.

“Damn right,” Bri said around a mouthful of food.

They ate and chatted and teased for a few minutes, and for that time Shaya felt light as a cloud. In the back of her mind, the stress was still there, but for a brief moment at least it was not top of her mind. Rationally, she knew the stress no longer served a purpose. It had pushed her to train and to prepare, but now it would only be a hindrance if she took it with her.

And for that reason, she was happy to just spend time with her girlfriend.

To simply relax.

...and to fight down the anxiety that wanted her to look back at her follies, her mistakes, and how she should have made better choices in every moment, should have only thought about herself and her power...

Shaya cut the thoughts off as Bri chuckled.

“Are you back?”

“Think you can read me that well, eh?” Shaya wrinkled her nose.

“I’m getting better,” Bri said with a twinkle in her patina-coloured eyes, “and I hope it only gets better as we get to spend some actual time together, rather than just studying and training.”

“I can’t wait.” Shaya smiled as their eyes met and their faces drifted closer together.

Bri placed a finger on her lips and gave her an evil grin, “I only kiss winners, Shaya.”

“You are a cruel and angry god,” Shaya whined, hoping Bri was kidding given her intention to throw the fight.

“I’m also a devout Astorian.” Bri turned her nose up as she pushed Shaya’s face away. “So watch that sacrilege!”

“I humbly beg your forgiveness,” Shaya said while rolling her eyes, “but I’m going to have kick you out now so I can get ready.”

“I see how it is,” Bri said with mock offence as she stood, “Only here for my looks, are you?”

“Hey now,” Shaya said defensively, “I also appreciate how you deliver food.”

Bri’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to forgive that one.”

“I don’t blame you.” Shaya grinned, holding out her dirty plate for Bri to take.

She collected Shaya’s empty plate regardless. “I might have to be the third person that takes you to the Five Rings at this rate.”

“I wonder if I’m setting any records?” Shaya asked, actually wondering if it were true.

“Most students never duel someone, let alone publicly, soooo probably?”

“Good to be famous for something, I guess.”

Bri rolled her eyes as she left the room.

Striding toward her armoire, Shaya paused as she passed her mirror. Since starting at the academy just over three months ago, her body had started to visibly change from all her efforts. The months of grueling physical training alongside Bri and Ral gave her visible musculature where before her limbs had been smooth. Her time at the forge had strengthened her arms into wiry cords of muscle, though they still lacked the chiseled appearance that Bri had earned from years of diligent exercise.

Her body sported even more scars than it had before, however. White scar tissue crisscrossed her body where injuries didn’t warrant magical healing and her body looked splotchy from where patches of freshly healed flesh stood out against her otherwise dark, tanned skin. Shaya had endured much at the Academy and during her deployments, far more than a first year should have, but she was used to pushing her body past its limits – had been ever since she and Rel had escaped the abusive orphanage system of Arcadia for the brutal streets of The Blight.

Beyond the physical changes, Shaya had also grown mentally and spiritually. She no longer slumped her shoulders to downplay how much taller she was than others. She squared her shoulders, less ashamed of her broad, more masculine frame. She was more confident in her ability to control her emotions and her blood rage thanks to Rea’s lessons, as well as the relentless teasing and bullying Azreon had directed at her.

Shaya smiled as she thought of that.

Everything Azreon had done to her had only made her stronger.

And she was going to use that strength to destroy him.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Shaya almost wondered if she had to stack the deck so much in her favour. Then she remembered Azreon’s own skill. His raw power. His intent to kill her.

Respecting her opponent was the first step to defeating him.

And thinking about Azreon’s motivations gave her another idea, making her smile grow once more.

Shaya threw on linen undergarments, padded armour, and her Titan-shell breastplate and vambraces. Atop all that sat her Cinwolf cloak, offering the only other piece of protection. As much as she longed to put on more armour, she knew that bronze wouldn’t do much against Azreon’s mithrite sword and that she couldn‘t afford to lose any speed given how quick Azreon was. With that done, she belted on her new sword, a simple bronze dagger, her short-hafted halberd and a set of bronze manacles.

Conversation amongst her lance-mates died down as she walked down the stairs, and all eyes turned to her.

“New sword?” Ral asked, sharp eyebrows rising.

“The hilt looks really out of place,” Oraeus said, admiration quickly fading as his nose wrinkled.

Shaya blushed, “I did my best with very little time, thank you very much.”

“Shall we leave?” Samorn asked. “We don’t have much time before the duel begins.”

“That’s fine,” Shaya shrugged, “I don’t plan on being on time.”

“Ah,” Samorn nodded, “You’re looking to put Azreon off balance. Wise of you.”

“I was hoping you might be able to help with that,” Shaya said, rubbing the back of her head, “if you don’t mind doing me a favour to spite Azreon.”

“Well,” Samorn looked thoughtful, “you did say the magic word.”

“Favour?” Bri said with a smirk.

“No, spite.” Samorn smiled. “What do you need from me?”

“I want you to put on a sexy dress,” Shaya blurted, face turning red before she finished.

“Excuse me?” Bri sounded more than a little annoyed as she rose.

Oraeus and Ral looked stunned. Ren’s jaw tightened as he glared at Shaya.

“I think you misunderstand Azreon’s fascination with me,” Samorn’s smile turned cold, “but your plan may still have merit. And it does amuse me...”

+++++

The stadium around the Five Rings was full as Shaya arrived to the scene. Azreon paced around the edge of the ring, clad in his mithrite platemail, and Galo stood nearby with his burly arms crossed. The large goon said something and Azreon’s head snapped towards Shaya, his eyes shooting daggers at her.

She ignored him, frowning at the clouds that blocked much of the early afternoon sun. Shaya hoped the thin and wispy things would blow away soon. Her eyes slid back to ground-level and noted that Basillo stood in the ring where the referee would be, unsure if he was the last minute substitute that Theame had managed or not. He looked unimpressed by how late she was, as did much of the crowd.

Shaya scanned the crowd for familiar faces, finding Apricot, Una, Lan, Auric, Gatag, and a few others, but she forced her attention back to the matter at hand as she arrived to the edge of the ring. Azreon’s glare moved from her to Samorn, who stood beside Shaya in a form-fitting silk dress and a fur-trimmed cloak draped over her shoulders for warmth. Shaya smiled as he grew more distracted.

I love it when a plan comes together.

“Good luck,” Bri said, leaning down to give her a quick kiss.

“I thought only winners get kisses?” Shaya smiled in response.

“That’s hardly a kiss,” Bri smiled back, “besides, I thought you needed a reminder of who you’re actually dating here.”

“Actually, I think you might make the crowd think I’ve started a harem.” Shaya’s smile grew.

Bri’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re never going to forgive me, are you?”

“Never,” Bri said, though Shaya saw amusement tug at her lips as she turned and walked to the stands with the rest of her lance.

Azreon’s eyes narrowed as he looked from Shaya to Samorn and back.

“Apologies for my tardiness,” Shaya said, loud enough to carry, “I had almost forgotten about this arrangement.”

Azreon’s face reddened, but before he could go off Basillo rose a hand for order.

The stands quieted.

“As the original referee for this match fell quite ill this morning,” Basillo stated, “I, Captain Basillo of the Imperial Legions, have stepped in to adjudicate this match!”

...did Theame poison someone for me!?

“At the challenger’s behest, this match is to be fought using the Liberi Protocols,” Basillo continued, drawing disgruntled mumbling from veteran-looking Mage Knights in the audience, “which means that victory will be determined only by knock out, surrender, or ring out – and that the Rings’ magical safeties will be lessened to better simulate real battle.”

There it is, Shaya thought, looking at the sky and praying that the clouds would part soon.

“Furthermore, the challenger has allowed unlimited time for preparatory magics of the duelist’s own channeling, so long as they do not summon monsters to aid them.” Basillo looked displeased as he finished. “Duelists, enter the ring for screening.”

They did so, Shaya looking every bit the underdog and barbarian in her monster-forged armour and cloak compared to Azreon’s full suit of mithrite platemail. Basillo took a moment to extend his spiritual senses over them to dowse for ongoing spells, but nodded when he found only pre-existing enchantments on items. “The duelists are clear! You may begin preparations!”

Azreon shot another glare at Shaya before slamming the visor down on his helmet and moving to his starting position.

“Serra Mikaelix, Radiant Angel!” Azreon invoked, the crowd looking on as the first of Arcadia’s mortal heroes manifested behind him, six wings unfurling like war banners.

“Phaedra Amon, Guardian of Light!” Shaya invoked and heads turned to watch the latest of Arcadia’s mortal heroes manifest behind her, two wings snapping out as the esper rose her crystal sword into the air.

Shaya knelt with a smile and began casting her first spell as Azreon also prepared. He finished all his spells in less than a minute and smirked across the ring at her as she took a good minute before completing her first spell. His smirk faded as her second spell took the same amount of time. His anger only grew as each one took a minute, or more, to cast.

Shaya abused the allowance, stalling each cast as long as possible, but also using the time to cast each spell perfectly. She put up light-forged armour that covered her like platemail. Lengthened the haft of her polearm. Reshaped its axe-head into a hammer. Enchanted the hilt of her sword, to waste time. Dismissed that spell so she had capacity to enhance her strength. Then, as the clouds began to part, Shaya put up her final spell: a wide circle against Amber magic.

By the time she stood to signal her readiness to begin the duel, more than a few people had left the stands to seek better entertainment.

“Begin!”

Livid eyes glared at her as Azreon charged, longsword gripped in two hands while three blades of light whirled around him. Shaya hefted her polehammer and fell into a defensive stance, equally happy and worried to see how well her plan to agitate him had worked.

Adrenaline surged through her like lightning as Azreon closed and all of Shaya’s worries and anxieties melted away as the duel began.