Chapter 8-9

"Stop… shifting."

At the cold command, Keegan abruptly realized his knee bounced uncontrollably and he hastily stopped moving. "We're going to get expelled from the academy," he explained in an oddly pitched voice.

Kai Edlen had already exited the office a few minutes earlier. Besides the dark expression on Edlen's face, Keegan couldn't tell what had transpired inside that office. Not only did they face possible banishment from the academy, but the man inside that office also petrified Keegan to the point of nausea.

Josiah. The true King to the Igni people.

"We're not going to get expelled."

Keegan rubbed his sweaty palms across his trousers and looked at the younger man sitting beside him.

As usual, Micah was the picture of serenity and composure. He ran a critical eye down Micah's face, pausing briefly over the pale, blue eyes. He'd noticed their unusual color right away at the banquet, though Micah hadn't mentioned anything about it and Keegan figured his friend would tell him when he was ready.

The circumstances surrounding his mother also puzzled Keegan. Micah hadn't seemed that upset over his mother's death. Nor the fact that he was forced to attend an academy with his supposed enemies. The day Micah left, the day the fires raged across Region 20, many citizens had spied Josiah's royal guard. King Josiah was somehow involved in the mess and Keegan could not fathom what Micah's mother had done to warrant such a powerful man's attention.

"Keegan."

He turned, staring into Micah's arctic gaze. "What?"

A hand landed on his knee, immediately halting the restless bouncing that had started once more. "We're not going to be expelled. Relax."

"I'm meeting him face-to-face. Alone."

Somehow, interacting with King Josiah petrified and thrilled him far more than getting naked in front of that pretty, blonde-haired Healer this afternoon. At the time, he hadn't imagined anything more humbling. Or humiliating. Fortunately, he would have clothes on with Lord Josiah.

Something ugly twisted Micah's usual attractive features. "That's why you're nervous? To meet him?" He withdrew his hand and leaned further against his chair, away from Keegan as if he carried an unpleasant odor.

For a moment, Keegan stared, feeling a fond grin pull the side of his mouth. If Keegan didn't know any better, he would have guessed Micah to be a spoiled and arrogant noble, the same sort of people the boy vehemently disliked. Only, he did know better. Just like Keegan, Micah had struggled through his own trials.

No, Micah was not spoiled, nor was he arrogant.

He was proud and he wore a pretty porcelain mask to veil the ugliness life had thrown at him.

The door opened again and Keegan stiffened as Nereus Edlen pointed at him.

"You're next." Without so much as another word, the boy walked off.

The heavy, consuming nerves caused his stomach to bubble and growl audibly in protest. He stood up, cradling his abdomen. Sharing a look with Micah, he hoped the boy could loan him his impassive composure, at least this once. Only, Micah raised an unimpressed eyebrow and nodded towards the open door.

"Make sure you kiss his robes properly upon greeting."

Keegan seethed. "You're a sarcastic bastard."

"Were you expecting words of comfort?" Micah smirked and crossed his ankle on top his leg. A gesture of nonchalance. To further the image of indifference, the younger man slung an arm around the top of the vacant seat, his expression smug in light of Keegan's apprehension. "He is your hero, after all."

Keegan's hands trembled as he dropped them at his sides. He straightened his spine and turned towards the door with trepidation. As he looked over his shoulder one last time, he caught Micah looking after him with a peculiar, soft expression. Almost like concern.

But that couldn't be.

Micah scowled a moment later and the illusion was gone.

Perplexed, Keegan entered to office. What did Micah have to be worried about?

"Please shut the door behind you, Mr. Flint."

Upon hearing the voice, a slow, nearly seductive chill glided down Keegan's spine. Never before had he heard Lord Josiah speak. The tenor wasn't feminine nor masculine, but rather serpentine in quality. Soft, dangerous, and ambiguous.

Avoiding looking in the man's direction, Keegan shut the door and his hands fumbled awkwardly with the handle. Not knowing what to do. How to do it. When to do it.

Oh, Agni, he was ridiculous.

"Take a seat. Please."

Keegan forced himself away from the door, his eyes traveling in a wide arc to observe his surroundings properly.

It was a very large office, though he hadn't expected anything less for the Chairman of the Academy. There were two stone pillars in the room with a small basin in front of each. The basin housed a unique, purple flame that instantly warmed the room to a comfortable heat. While others may have considered it too warm, Keegan found himself often cold since he'd arrived at the academy.

Stumbling his way to the chair, he sat down.

Behind the desk, there were large bookcases filled with a respectable amount of tomes. A few knickknacks filled the shelves, though Keegan figured they were just for decoration and passed down throughout the years from one chairperson to the next.

Finally, when he could no longer avoid it, his gaze landed on the figure behind the desk. Keegan's pulse raced wildly as fathomable, orange eyes assessed him silently.

For years, he'd always wanted to meet this man. Now, it felt as if he were the center of the man's attention.

Josiah was not an overly attractive man like Micah and some other men Keegan noticed around the academy. He had aristocratic features, yes, timeless features, but what snagged Keegan's undivided attention was Lord Josiah's presence. The man's aura was far too large for any room. It stifled Keegan. Intimidated and awed him.

He could only stare, his hands trembling on his lap.

"You look nervous."

Keegan flinched. His pulse seemed to race faster now than it had during the race. "I- I am. Nervous that is. Really nervous, actually." He laughed once, though instantly regretted it as Josiah continued watching him dispassionately.

The man kept his hands clasped in front of his mouth while his gaze dissected Keegan.

Little by little.

Forcing his eyes away from the orange gaze, he studied the black military uniform that dressed the man's lithe form. He was a decorated warrior, as seen clearly by the medals and the stripes across his shoulders. The long braid carelessly slung over his shoulder also screamed royalty. As it was, only royals could wear their hair braided like that.

As a kid, Keegan remembered he and his siblings had worn their hair in such a way to play warriors and princes. Their parents had reprimanded them at the time, proclaiming it was a crime to parade as royalty.

Keegan couldn't believe he was here, in front of royalty! Wait until he told his brothers!

Did the Edlen cousins feel this way? Or were they accustomed to interacting with royalty because of their own, noble blood? No matter how many times someone crossed Josiah's path, Keegan couldn't imagine anyone growing used to the man's presence.

It was frightening.

"Why are you nervous?" Josiah inquired quietly.

Keegan licked his dried lips. "I've always wanted to meet you, My Lord." He lifted a hand, realizing it was trembling and hastily scratched the back of his neck to hide the obvious. "Obviously not under such conditions, but it's an honor."

Josiah was silent for a moment, frozen in his intensity. "I am always delighted to meet a fellow Igni." He cocked his head ever so slightly. "Yet I am skeptical of your admiration. Your… companion holds little regard for me. I assumed you felt the same."

For a moment, Keegan faltered with bemusement. "Oh." His eyes widened. "Oh! You mean Micah?"

Josiah did not respond. He simply regarded Keegan patiently.

Keegan shrugged his shoulders, shifting awkwardly in his chair. He cursed Micah, not knowing what to say or how much he was supposed to know about the situation with his mother. "Actually, Micah doesn't talk about you very often, My Lord. If at all."

Orange eyes creased marginally at the corners, though Keegan did not know whether it was out of amusement or anger.

He supposed his comment was crass and dismissive, especially to a royal.

For another agonizing minute, Josiah regarded him before looking down at his desk. Unclasping his hands, his long fingers touched a few scattered papers. Once he aligned them perfectly, he finally addressed Keegan. "You are correct that the circumstances surrounding our meeting are not ideal. In a controlled and official duel, fighting is encouraged. It is not, however, to be mistaken for schoolyard bullying."

Keegan flushed hotly. "I understand, sir, My Lord."

"If I catch wind of another episode like the one I witnessed today, there will be severe consequences, I assure you." He did not look up, but his tone promised retribution.

"It will never happen again."

Josiah hummed deeply in his throat as if he did not believe Keegan but would humor him nonetheless. "Aside from that uninspiring quarrel, your performance today was rather impressive. You've garnered attention from quite a few nobles by placing fourth."

Keegan's head spun wildly. "I- I did?"

Josiah finally looked up at Keegan. "It is always imperative to have friends in high places, Mr. Flint. If your current streak continues, and they are impressed enough, they can get you into very respectable careers after your time at the academy." He looked down at his papers. "You wish to teach?"

"It's… it's a consideration right now. I just want a good job to support my family."

Josiah's eyebrow quirked and Keegan blinked rapidly, oddly reminded of Micah. He blinked again and it was gone. Surely, it was a trick of a nervous mind. But he could have sworn…

"It says here you have four siblings."

"I do, sir." Keegan inclined his head. "My parents are getting older. I'd like to be able to get a respectable job in order to support them as they have supported me and all of their children."

Josiah glanced up at him. "How very noble of you."

For a moment, Keegan wondered if that was a contemptuous comment, but dismissed it as Josiah offered a very small, pleased smile. "I- I couldn't have done any of this without Micah."

Josiah's gaze suddenly sharpened and the room warmed uncomfortably. The smile on his face seemed to freeze uncannily. "I am recognizing your strengths right now, Mr. Flint. There is no need to bring up Mr. Egan."

Keegan wondered if he should drop it. He'd struck a nerve in the other man and he didn't understand why. "And I'm grateful for your notice, My Lord, but I really couldn't have done it without him. He motivated all of us today. He's a good kid."

Josiah reached over and placed a hand on top his desk. "I am uncertain of your intentions, bringing another student—"

"I know he's in trouble!" Keegan blurted like a fool. His eyes widened in horror when he realized he had interrupted a king. He kept going out of shock. "I don't know what happened with his mother, but I know you're keeping an eye on him because of her. But he's good. I promise. He'd never do anything to undermine you."

The older man regarded Keegan coolly before a pleased chuckle sounded. "Undermine me," he whispered thoughtfully. "I'm sure it has never crossed his mind, no." Josiah suddenly smiled and it was every bit frightening.

Keegan stiffened in his chair, the air abruptly leaving his lungs.

Agni! What had he done?

Garnering praise for something he credited to Micah made Keegan uncomfortable. The kid had encouraged all of them today. Without Micah, Keegan wouldn't have finished nearly as early as he had. He also felt as if he'd stepped over a line. He should have never addressed the issue between Josiah and Micah's mother, especially when he did not know the details. However, to think that King Josiah was keeping an extra eye on Micah didn't sit well with him.

He had to defend his friend.

"It seems the two of you are very close."

"Close enough… I think…" he squeaked.

Josiah lowered his head, yet his eyes levelled with Keegan's own. "I imagine life in Region 20 was far from pleasant. I'm interested in knowing more about that and your relationship with Micah. Why don't you tell me a little bit more about yourself, Mr. Flint?"

The room, which had been comfortable in the beginning, was now unbearable. Keegan pulled at his collar, sweat gathering at the back of his neck and at his brow. He'd talked too much, he realized. He'd put himself in this situation. "What would you like to know, My Lord?"

Josiah lowered his gaze predatorily. "Everything."

Suddenly, a searing pain erupted behind his eyes and Keegan's mind buckled into complete and utter compliance.

* * * *

After what seemed like an eternity, the door finally clicked open.

Micah stood at attention, suspiciously watching as Keegan stumbled from the room, his expression slack and his face pale. Unfocused eyes settled near Micah, though he truly did not seem to see him.

"You're next, Micah." Keegan motioned down the hall with an impatient hand. "Going to catch dinner before they close for the night. Famished." Like a ghost, the boy breezed past, his movements stiff and robotic.

Micah charged inside the room and slammed the door behind him. He focused on Josiah with single-minded intensity as he swooped near the desk. "What did you do to him?"

Josiah seemed pleased, yet his face was unreadable. "He wanted to reassure me of your virtue by expressing how much he trusted you." He lifted a hand and gave a little wave. "I insisted he tell me everything."

"Tell you everything," Micah repeated as he came to a stop in front of the desk. He placed his hands on the edge and leaned towards the man. "What does that entail, exactly?"

Josiah inhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair. "A few honest questions. Nothing he will remember come morning. He will be back to his normal, naïve self."

Stunned, Micah could only stare.

Did Josiah possess the ability to persuade others on a subconscious level?

He removed his hands and took a step back, uncertainty pulling at him. Yet again, he remembered Josiah's supremacy, his sheer and sophisticated power. Micah could delusion himself as much as he liked. In the end, however, Josiah held all the pieces.

For now.

Micah sat in the chair, trying to reign in both his uncertainty and temper. "Do you do that often? Force people to do things they don't want to?" He cocked his head to the side, curious. "Do you perform that magic on me? And I just don't remember?" he asked, remembering his headache the other night while dining with Josiah.

The man crossed his legs and regarded Micah closely. "It is a trick I do not succumb to often. I've never used it with you, no." He clasped his hands over his knees, his eyes relentless as they watched him. "I consider it a weakness. If I cannot make someone do as I please, I resort to coercion and magical means."

Micah preened. "You couldn't manipulate Keegan to give you what you wanted."

"He is rather virtuous." A pause. "And I was impatient."

"Don't play with him," Micah warned, remembering Keegan's unfocused and glazed eyes. "I don't know why you brought him to the academy, but don't play with him."

At the emphasized warning, Josiah blinked slowly. "And why shouldn't I test him? He is ignorant and inexperienced, both catalysts when it comes to revealing loyalty's true strength. Considering you are the royal heir, it is my job to test those you surround yourself with."

"More like eliminate everyone around me so you're the sole option." Micah narrowed his eyes. "And do you have my best interests in mind?"

"Silly child," he whispered. "You are mine. I would never put you in harm's way."

"Unless it was to make me stronger."

In response, Josiah smiled cruelly.

With teeth.

Micah sat back, unsteady. He took a moment to gather himself. It had been weeks since his last interaction with Josiah. He'd forgotten how mentally exhausting it was, just as it was stimulating. He looked down and curled his fingers into fists, hating how good he felt in this man's presence. Undoubtedly, there was the strong sensation of hatred and loathing, but it was sharp enough that it felt good.

Did that make him a twisted individual?

Looking up, he looked into equally roused eyes.

Yes, he was a twisted individual, but at least he was among like-minded company. He'd never consider treating others like this. He'd never consider being himself with others. Perhaps that was what Josiah was hoping for, what he was expecting.

He had Micah all to himself.

"You certainly created quite a stir today," Josiah continued, carrying the conversation in a new direction. "Are you identifying yourself as an Igni? From the observation room, it appeared rather valiant of you to encourage them."

"I don't identify myself with any race," Micah countered. "I wanted to give them the chance to prove themselves. In order to do so, they needed to cross that finish line."

"Your efforts are better well spent on the cadets who have trained and flourished at the hands of skillful instructors since childhood."

"Like the Edlen cousins?" Micah inquired with an obvious curl to his lip. "I disagree. They leave me underwhelmed. There are others with raw talent."

"Oh? And what does your pet have that's worthy enough for your attentions?"

"Keegan," Micah corrected, "Is brim with intelligence. No one has yet to touch that brilliance and make it flourish, yet he most likely scored near the top of the class during exams. He's also loyal to a fault. That is something you cannot breed nor ingrain with expensive tutors."

Something flashed behind Josiah's eyes. "Do you consider yourself loyal, Ezra?"

His jaw clenched at the given name. "In order to be loyal, you first need a cause or person worthy to follow." Micah looked pointedly at Josiah. "I have yet to encounter anything that demands such loyalty."

"Besides him."

Josiah's interest in Keegan was dangerous and unjust. Micah flirted with the opportunity to enrage the man further by playing on such insecurities, but decided against it. Just as Josiah mentioned earlier, Keegan was innocent. He did not belong in this mess.

"I am protective of him," Micah admitted, sidestepping the question.

A knock rasped sharply on the door, interrupting their verbal spar. Micah looked away, well aware of Josiah's continued surveillance as he called the visitor inside the room. Taking a calming breath, he watched as the academy servant entered with a silver tray. Upon Josiah's nonverbal wave, the man set down the tray directly in front of Micah.

With a whirl of grey robes, the man disappeared immediately after.

"Eat," Josiah commanded. "You must be hungry."

He was. Micah examined the platter of creamy soup and the plump, freshly baked bread roll. It was nearly the size of his head and cut in half with butter and herbs slathered on each end.

His stomach tightened. "Do the other students get to eat?" Micah asked, cautious.

Josiah smirked. "Very considerate of you to think of your peers, child, but yes, they are eating. As we speak, high nobles are approaching their prized stallions and also giving them proper nutrients."

Micah reached readily for the spoon and dug in. "Should I expect Sachiel tonight?"

Silence met his inquiry.

After swallowing the rich soup, Micah looked up, noticing Josiah's stony, brilliantly masked expression.

"You've noticed his fascination," the man stated.

"Fascination?" Micah set down his spoon and grabbed the bread. "Is that what we're calling it?" He ripped it apart eagerly and stuffed it into his mouth, far from ashamed to eat like a savage in front of Josiah. "He wasn't very inconspicuous during the banquet dinner." Indeed, he remembered Sachiel's focused intensity yesterday. He'd questioned it, but had later dismissed it as simple interest.

After all, he hadn't done much of anything to garner the man's close attention.

"He interacted with you as a child. As Ezra." Josiah paused. "Be careful with him. Do not presume you can play on his ignorance. He is far more dangerous than you think."

Micah swallowed the soup. "Of course I will be careful with Sachiel. I never underestimate opponents."

Josiah appeared to deliberate Micah's comment. "Should I feel threatened you already consider him worthy enough to call an opponent?"

"I didn't consider you the jealous type."

"Jealous? No. Possessive? Quite."

Micah paused at that, reminded once again at the large advantage he had over Josiah. And large it was. Josiah did not like anyone close to Micah. It was evident with Keegan and it was evident with Sachiel. It was almost disappointing how Micah could identify such weakness; then again, Josiah had many weaknesses of Micah's he could exploit.

Keegan being one of them. His mother and Master Idris another.

This revelation only evened the playing field.

"What did Master Idris do to warrant execution?" Micah forced himself to ask.

He remembered, when he was about to pass unconscious at the tavern, Idris tried to warn him about Josiah. There was something about the Magi, something about Josiah. Micah hadn't asked what Idris had done to warrant Josiah's wrath, simply because he knew what type of response he'd get in return.

Josiah did not disappoint.

"Betrayal is betrayal no matter the reasons behind it," Josiah replied ambiguously. "We are not speaking of Idris, but of Sachiel and the importance of staying away from him. I shouldn't have to stress how imperative it is that Calder remains ignorant to your presence." Josiah uncrossed his legs and straightened. "He only wants you for your blood."

With his spoon, Micah poked the round balls of what appeared to be flour and yeast in his soup. He then proceeded to play with the chunks of chicken. "You mean my father would use me for my mixed race?" he asked with exaggerated disbelief.

He knew that, of course. Ember had told him that almost daily.

Josiah was not entertained. "Your father would keep you in a gilded cage."

"I know that."

The man raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you do." He clasped his hands on top his desk. "He would have never allowed you a chance to experience the true realities of life. You would have grown up selfish, spoiled, and privileged."

"But I didn't," Micah retorted quietly but with fire.

"Yet you still have much more to learn and experience." Josiah regarded him closely. Always closely. "It is imperative you stay away from him and his cage."

Micah rolled a chunk of bread into a perfect sphere. "He will find out sooner rather than later, I imagine. We're not exactly hiding it well." He looked up at Josiah. "Sachiel knows I'm Ezra, doesn't he? He's on the royal council. Will he tell Calder?"

"No." It was a bit startling to hear the utmost certainty in Josiah's reply. "Sachiel is loyal to Calder when his own inquisitiveness is not in the way. He finds amusement in small things," Josiah said. "I imagine he would rather watch events unfold than spoil the surprise. That is, unless he grows bored."

"Well." Micah gazed down at his half-eaten soup. "In order to keep his silence, we just need to make things more interesting for him, then."

He looked up, snagging Josiah's close regard.

"Practice caution with him," the man warned again.

Micah simply smiled in response. Councilman Sachiel seemed like an interesting individual, someone Micah would be inclined to know better. The man was a rare breed. He was a person who foresaw a catastrophe, but wouldn't say anything in anticipation of standing back and watching things unfold for his own entertainment.

He was a snake. Very similar to Josiah.

"He is close to your brother as well."

And then time stood still.

Micah hurriedly looked down at his dinner, trying to veil his surprise, though Josiah was better than to overlook such a raw, unfiltered emotion.

"You didn't know you had a brother. Half-brother, of course," Josiah informed. "He is a year younger than you, yet he is in his third year at the academy."

"Did Ember know?"

If his half-brother was a year younger than Micah that would indicate Calder had committed infidelity. Ember had never mentioned a sibling. Micah hadn't known. There was never any talk about a royal prince, though he supposed royalty was never a popular topic amongst the outskirt regions. If anything, Micah's elders only mentioned Josiah and Calder in passing.

Josiah clicked his tongue. "She found out." He paused. "Unfortunately, it is quite common for royalty to have a harem of concubines. Your mother was a result of one herself."

"I find that distasteful." Micah sat back, no longer hungry.

He didn't understand why the news affected him so much.

"I full-heartedly agree with you, child. I would never tolerate infidelity."

Micah looked up at that, recognizing it as a warning aimed at him. He smirked through his quickening pulse, acknowledging the darkening aura around the man. "Well, we won't have to worry about that, will we? I am too weak for you, as you so claimed, and I have no desire to be with you."

Josiah smiled lazily, his eyes half-lidded with pleasure. "Let us hope, for your sake, that if you say it enough times, you may actually start believing it."

Ruffled at the arrogance, Micah stood up. "Are we finished?"

Josiah rose from his chair as well and stepped around the desk.

He approached Micah with slow, measured steps, his body moving fluidly. Micah bit the inside of his cheek as the man crowded him, causing his stomach to tighten agreeably. Warm hands grabbed his jaw and angled his head up to meet his eyes. He was too close. The man's dominant aura pressed around him, a suffocating reminder of who the bigger predator was. He backed Micah up until the back of his legs hit the desk, caging and imprisoning him.

"No more fist fighting," Josiah murmured softly in warning. "It makes you look like a commoner." His hand tightened. "You impressed me today. Keep doing so."

Micah hated it.

He hated the man's smugness. He hated how his body reacted positively towards Josiah despite loathing the man. He hated how his eyes drifted lower, towards the smirking lips, wanting, needing to close the distance.

Micah grabbed the man's braid and pulled on it. Hard.

Josiah was forced to bend his neck, their noses nearly touching.

"If I continue to do well, it's my own doing. Not because you willed it."

The orange eyes seemed to brighten into a shade of crimson. Instead of growing irritated at Micah's challenge, it had clearly excited him further. His fingernails dug into Micah's jawline, nearly melding against the bone. "And yet, I will always be in the back of your mind."

Josiah broke first.

He released Micah's jaw and Micah quickly released his hair. He pushed past the older man and hurried toward the door without making it obvious. He was sure, however, that his haste was evident to both of them, especially the man at his back. With how hard his heart pounded, Micah barely heard Josiah's chuckle follow at his heels.

It frightened him with how much he wanted Josiah's contact.

He'd wanted to do things he promised himself he'd never want.

Especially with that man.

It wasn't until he was down the hallway did he realize he had a very painful migraine behind his eyes. He paused, pressing his fingertips against his temple, feeling as if his skull was about to split into two.

This happened once before. Both times, he was alone in Josiah's presence.

Micah frowned into the dark corridor. It had to be the man's power. He'd certainly keep an eye on it in the future and investigate it further.

Leaning against the uneven stone wall, he replayed the events that transpired inside the office. His eyes unfocused as he remembered Josiah's reaction upon Micah's challenge. No matter how in control the man claimed to be, Micah had an adverse effect on the Igni king. Both of them were affected by each other, only, Josiah was not fearful of the attraction. He was eager.

Micah, on the other hand…

He raised his hand, observing the white gloves covering the gruesome scars. Slowly, he flexed his fingers and curled them one by one. He needed more confidence. He needed to accept the attraction.

It was there. It was pointless to deny it.

Throwing his hand down at his side, Micah continued down the corridor. A small, satisfied smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. He found himself looking forward to future interactions with Josiah.

They were fun.

9. Chapter Nine

The way they moved was fluid. Gorgeous.

Breathtaking.

Micah stared at his competition, unable to look away. While they were his least favorite peers, their swordsmanship style was immaculate. Since Micah had dwelled in the outskirt regions his whole life, where the Igni technique heavily thrived, he'd never seen anyone perform the Unda form.

He had never known it was so calm. So fluid.

Like water.

Unda warriors were often times water Elementals. When it came to combat, whether it be swords or staffs, they would impersonate the continuous movement of their Element. Igni warriors, on the other hand, often channeled aggression and rage into their form. Much like fire.

"It is a style I imagine you would wield especially well. Already a picture of exquisite splendor, the Unda form would only enhance your allure and turn it precarious."

Micah blinked as the voice sounded behind him. Turning, he observed Councilman Sachiel standing serenely behind him, his hands clasped patiently behind his back. Though he spoke about the Unda students, his eyes focused on Micah.

"It's a beautiful form," Micah agreed carefully.

He was one of the last students to arrive at the arena, having just finished his swimming trial. Yesterday, the instructors transformed the arena into a plethora of obstacle courses and other miscellaneous trials for the students.

Today, however, mats and low stages decorated the stadium.

Unnervingly enough, even the observation stands looked a bit dressed up, as if they were expecting royalty and an excessive number of individuals to view the trial. It was their last day of assessments. More specifically, a sword tournament was their very last chance to turn the tables. Two days ago, over sixty students started the trials. Since then, instructors sent several students home or they'd quit voluntarily.

Micah imagined several more students would go home after this event.

Sachiel observed him carefully, paying special attention as a few water droplets fell from his damp hair and down his temple. "Swimming didn't go so well," he stated knowingly.

Micah's mouth twitched. "What place am I now?"

"After the swimming trial, you are down to thirteenth."

Micah turned his cheek, bitterness pulling at him. He knew the swimming trial would negatively affect his score. Micah hadn't submerged himself in water since a mishap at a botanical garden several years ago.

"I had anticipated such a turnout," Sachiel stated casually, reading Micah's cold detachment. "You are a desert rat, after all. I am just grateful you didn't drown. Throughout the years, drowning transpired a few times with other Igni students. It's why there is help near the pool."

'Desert rat' was an insult Micah heard from the noble children quite frequently these past couple days. Only, as Sachiel said it, he made it sound like a matter of fact. A simple observation and not at all derogatory.

"Yes, well." Micah paused as he watched as some students sparred poorly. "It's fortunate no one could observe. I might as well have been drowning with how poorly I swam."

Sachiel chuckled pleasantly. A polite laugh. "Then I am glad to have missed the spectacle."

Today, Sachiel was dressed in light grey robes with royal blue lining the hems. Half his hair was pulled into a tight knot, allowing the rest of his hair to fall straight down his back. He appeared rather serene, though his eyes sparkled mischievously. Micah was reminded of his conversation with Josiah the other night.

Saintly appearances aside, this man was a deceiving schemer.

"I am teaching Kai Edlen how to wield the sword," Sachiel confessed, watching the eldest Edlen spar with his cousin. "I'm afraid that he'd be far better off using the Igni form. His father refused to consider the possibility, however. Not entirely surprising."

"Why do you imagine he'd benefit from the Igni form?"

Micah regarded the broad-shouldered Unda cadet. The boy's form was solid and impressive.

His movements were smooth and captivating.

"The Unda technique requires a very level head and a calm countenance. Kai is rather aggressive and temperamental when pressed into a corner. It's a habit of his I have yet to shake."

Micah narrowed his eyes marginally. Had Sachiel intentionally given Micah something to use against Kai during the tournament? It was quite the revelation and a damning weakness.

"I would imagine most warriors grow aggressive when they are forced into a corner."

"No, it is imperative Unda warriors remain composed." Sachiel inclined his head, looking pointedly at Micah. "I've observed you these past few days. You would be a model student to learn the Unda technique."

He pressed his lips together. "I'm afraid it's too late to switch styles."

Almost as if he were a bloodhound who caught whiff of something captivating, Sachiel stuck his nose in the air as he regarded Micah. "You are good with the sword?" he asked, excitement hovering beneath his carefully crafted guise. "Who was your instructor?"

Micah smirked. "An old Igni warrior from Region 20."

A pleased hum sounded from Sachiel. "You're allowed your secrets." He dropped his hands from behind his back and stepped closer to Micah. "Though it's tasteless behavior to address so publicly, I must confess that I have invested in your success in these trials. For the whole term, actually."

"Oh?" Micah inquired casually, focusing on the students.

"While you think it's too late to alter your technique, you are still so young." Sachiel paused, letting a moment of silence grow heavy between them. "I imagine you will do well today. In return for your excellent performance, I would graciously lend you my services as an instructor. It would be an absolute privilege."

Sachiel could sugarcoat his words as much as he wanted, but Micah knew the man was bribing him. Trying to dangle a prize in front of his face.

The man wanted him to win today.

Micah continued to watch the students, mindful of Sachiel's scrutiny. The man's offer was appealing, especially when Micah felt drawn to the Unda technique. If others—like Kai Edlen—were his pupil, Sachiel was most likely in high demand amongst the elite. Yet, he realized that Sachiel's offer was also about self-interest.

It wasn't about the wagers, the gold, or the high prestige of succeeding over the other nobles, but rather the benefits of being closer to Micah. More specifically, being closer to Ezra.

What better way than to become his instructor? His master?

"I'm not saying that you will adopt the technique well, if at all," Sachiel continued when Micah remained quiet. "But it is something worth exploring, I believe."

Micah suddenly turned towards the man. "Why didn't you wager on Kai?"

Sachiel's blue eyes dilated at the bold inquiry. "Doing the same thing every year grows repetitive and mundane. Many noblemen placed gold on Kai. Just as they bet on all my previous students." The man leaned forward, readily invading Micah's space. "The taste of something new and uncharted brings me far more excitement than the humdrum of repetition."

"And I suppose playing with fire only sweetens the taste of new and uncharted endeavors?"

Here, Micah looked pointedly over Sachiel's shoulder.

The councilman turned, spying Josiah standing at the doorway. The Igni king stood with two other men, though his eyes focused intently on Sachiel.

Sachiel cocked his head marginally, gazing thoughtfully at Micah. "The more fire, the sweeter the taste," he agreed softly, cementing their private and unspoken communication.

They both knew Sachiel was privy to sensitive and private information.

Oh, but Micah liked Sachiel. The man was bold.

So very bold.

In an uncharacteristic gesture, Micah laughed.

"Councilman Sachiel, you know the rules." Josiah appeared behind Micah, only a hairbreadth away from contact. "No rendezvousing with the students before the trials."

From the corner of Micah's eye, he watched as a group of noblemen walked into the arena and towards the observation stands. A few older students trickled in, clearly intent to watch the proceedings today up close.

"My apologies, My Lord," Sachiel drawled, his voice dripping with utmost respect. "I am simply wishing Mr. Egan luck." The man frowned. "Although my well wishes would have been better suited before the swimming trials, I believe."

Sachiel laughed then, a hearty, mannerly laugh.

It drew attention from a few curious onlookers, exactly what Micah imagined to be Sachiel's intentions. Across the way, Kai turned and observed the trio. While his upbringing prevented him from scowling outright, his irate eyes relayed just how he felt about the scene. It was his master, after all, chumming with his competition.

Sachiel walked off, preening under the eyes of the cadets.

"I suggest you grab a partner and warm up, Mr. Egan," Josiah instructed as he casually breezed by and followed Sachiel. "You have many points to reclaim after your inadmissible performance this morning." Without so much as another glance, Josiah left Micah standing alone.

As the Igni king approached the observational stands, a group of noblemen immediately surrounded him and competed to snag the man's undivided interest. Micah considered the wretched display, wondering how Josiah could surround himself with so many politicians and insincerity. They flocked obsessively to his status and his power, hoping beyond hope to obtain a sliver of his attention. Of course, they did it in such a way that was not sniveling, but rather controlled and superior.

Micah considered them rats cloaked in finery.

"Do you have a partner?"

Tearing his gaze away from Josiah, Micah looked down into the defiant eyes of Talia. The girl was the only female remaining amongst the first-year cadets and he imagined she ranked in the top twenty overall.

She raised her sword. "All the others seem to have a sparring partner already."

Her blonde hair was soaked as she evidently gathered it into a severe bun at the nape of her neck. Not a single hair dared to defy her strict restraints. Clearly, like Micah, she was one of the last students to perform the swimming trial.

Just over her shoulder, Keegan caught his eyes and waved his sword apologetically, already engaged in a one-sided duel with Aiden. While Keegan had no ability with the sword, Aiden appeared rather proficient.

"Alright," Micah agreed.

Talia turned her heel and led him towards an unoccupied mat.

A few students watched them and snickered to themselves. Micah ignored them, not understanding their bigotry. They no doubt found Talia's presence a joke, perhaps even an insult. Clearly, no one thought highly of her scores or gave her any sort of credit for standing tall in face of their skepticism.

Micah wasn't especially fond of the girl because of her attitude, but he would acknowledge her skill and determination.

"You're going to fight in that?" Micah questioned as he stood opposite of her.

Talia clenched her jaw as she looked down at the skirt. It was of modest length, but surely, it was limited in terms of movement. "We were required to wear our uniforms for this trial." Here, she looked enviously at Micah's trousers and knee-length boots.

"I'm surprised the academy even made a female uniform."

He ran his eyes down her form, imagining how uncomfortable it must be. Especially for sword combat.

"I don't have much of a choice, now do I?" She raised her sword and readied herself in a starting position. "I need to warm up properly. Can you do this? Or will my outfit be too much of a distraction for you?"

Micah hardly even blinked at her crass. "I don't know," he said dryly, his eyes running down her figure. "Your knobby knees are certainly a siren's call."

His comment took her off guard.

A blush stained her cheeks, yet she schooled her features well enough. "Amusing."

Choosing to let the topic go, Micah twirled the sword around in his palm and mirrored her readied stance. The academy loaned out the swords to the students today, not permitting their own blade within the confinements of the arena. Micah supposed it made sense. The instructors wanted everyone using the same blade, with the same weight and balance to gouge a student's aptitude.

Still, the blade felt very cheap in his hand, but the balance was acceptable.

Talia made the first move, her form impressive.

He hadn't expected it.

They traded hits and Micah gradually increased his pace and pushed her limits. She moved with him, her footwork solid. Obviously, Talia had her own private instructor that knew how to use her small stature to her advantage.

However, as Micah sparred with her, his movements careful, he noticed her discomfort. Her body was stiff and inflexible. Despite her bravado with wearing a skirt, it clearly made her uneasy. Her movements relayed just how uncomfortable she truly felt over the prospect of dueling so vulnerably.

His sword intentionally brushed across her exposed leg, earning a startled yelp in response. He then adjusted his grip on his sword and abruptly knocked her hold loose. Her sword fell to the ground in a matter of seconds.

Talia stared at the sword on the mat before looking up at him, focusing intently on his eyes. "Who are you?" she accused quietly, yet her tone was full of incredulity. "I find it unlikely you are just an outskirt scholarship student. You'd be more like your friend over there."

By over there, Micah assumed she meant Keegan.

"And you aren't just a girl, are you?" he countered. "See Healer Kendra and ask for appropriate clothing. You're movements are stiff and constricted."

"It's not appropriate for women to wear trousers."

Those words sounded ludicrous coming from her mouth. As he looked at her, he noticed her futile glance towards the stands. Quite a few noblemen and older students filled the benches, making it impossible for Micah to pinpoint the specific person she sought.

No matter.

"I wasn't aware we were judged on how well we stayed within social norms, but rather how fiercely we could fight to defend the capital." He pointed his sword at her. "You don't strike me as someone who concerns themselves with adhering to society's restraints."

She stared at him silently, her expression hard and unpleasant. Without another word, she bumped shoulders with him, exiting the arena. Micah watched her go, amused despite himself.

What an unpleasant woman.

"Congratulations. You succeeding in chasing her off only after a few minutes together, whereas it's taken us months to try to accomplish the same thing."

Micah turned, coming face to face with Kai Edlen.

"You don't appreciate her being here?" he asked, already knowing the answer. These past few days, he'd seen how the nobles spared her little attention, treating her more like an outsider than a fellow student. No matter how much Talia tried to be a part of their clique, turned shoulders or complete disregard always greeted her.

Kai turned up his lip. "The military academy is no place for a woman."

"From what I've seen, she's far more capable than the majority of the men."

He laughed then, an unkind little chuckle. "Half these boys don't even belong here." The noble lifted his sword. "Would you like to spar? During the small foray with Talia, your form was a bit lazy. I could give you a few pointers before the competition."

Micah's form… lazy?

What would Master Idris say if he heard such insolence?

Micah mulled over Kai's invitation, or more appropriately, his sly insult. The boy no doubt felt intimidated by his master's interest with Micah. Though he wasn't as ill-mannered as his cousin, Kai needed to learn some humility.

From the quick glances around the arena, Micah knew there weren't many students who could match Kai with the sword. They were all still raw and inexperienced. Idris was a harsh master. He expected excellence and he expected continuous improvement from Micah. If Micah wanted to put Kai in his place, he needed to tread carefully.

He wanted to bend the boy's back, not shatter him.

"I'd be most honored." Micah bowed at the waist with a flourish.

Kai watched him carefully, perhaps wondering if Micah was mocking him or being sincere.

"Where did you learn how to wield the sword?"

"An old Igni warrior in Region 20." Straightening from his bow, and acknowledging the irony of royalty bowing to a commoner, no matter how noble, Micah gestured impatiently with his sword. "I hear Councilman Sachiel instructed you?"

"Only for the past few months," Kai confirmed. "I had an instructor before him, simply because Master Sachiel was preoccupied instructing the prince. He has since moved on and accepted other students."

The boy had too much self-importance.

Haughtiness.

Conversely, as Micah considered him, he realized that it was inbred. Kai Edlen did not know any other way to speak with others but with utmost pride. His words and tone were matter-of-fact, dripping with a certain arrogance that set Micah's teeth on edge. He was arrogant without even trying to be.

Micah lowered his lashes. The boy probably grew up hearing nothing but praise, nothing but self-assurance of how well he was doing. How spectacular he would become amongst a world of lesser beings.

"The prince," Micah repeated, feeling his tongue grow heavy.

"Oh yes. Prince Ladon." The boy then looked pointedly into the stands and time froze for Micah.

He hadn't expected to encounter the prince for quite some time after Josiah pronounced his existence. After all, they were years apart in the academy. Slowly, he turned, spying the prince amongst the crowd of other spectators. Though he wore the same black and gold uniform as the other cadets, his aura indicated to strangers that he was untouchable and detached from the rest in terms of social class.

His skin was pale, like most Unda citizens, his hair even more so.

His eyes, even from a distance, was the deepest shade of sapphire Micah had ever seen. With his shoulders thrown back, the prince observed the other cadets with a mask of indifference. A pale braid slung carefully over his shoulder, a sign of his royal standing.

Micah's spine stiffened as he turned back to Kai.

There was an odd sensation in his stomach. It was dark, heavy, and bitter. There was also… abhorrence. So hot in its consumption, it almost took Micah by surprise. Never before had he felt this way towards a stranger. Granted, Ember tried to alight this same hatred in him towards Calder and Josiah as a child, though it never truly took root.

"Let's spar," Kai requested with impatience. "We don't have much—"

A shrill whistle sounded across the arena.

All eyes turned to Instructor Candace as he stood on top the tallest dueling stage in the arena. He waited until silence encompassed him before nodding his satisfaction. "On the wall, you will see the matchups of today's trial."

Keegan bumped his shoulder into Micah as they settled near the stage. "Ready, kid?"

Micah's lips twitched at the boy's good humor. He wasn't particular anxious about the upcoming trial, rather he still dwelled over the presence of his half-brother. His eyes continued to flicker over to the boy, seeing nothing but Calder's infidelity and an obstacle.

When he realized the reason behind his distaste, he wondered why he cared.

He never intended to take the throne, no matter how much it belonged to him before this… this boy.

"You're all big boys." Candace paused. "And girls."

Micah turned to see what caught the man's attention, observing Talia as she entered the arena, this time, appropriately clothed with combat boots and trousers. Her eyes settled on Micah and she nodded sharply in acknowledgement, her jaw set relentlessly.

"Because of our trust in your maturity…" here, Candace paused, his tone heavy with sarcasm. "We have given you real swords for combat. Any significant blood drawn during the match will automatically disqualify you from the trial. Any loss of limb will send both parties straight home."

Focusing intently on Candace's words, Micah mulled over the warning. Already inexperienced, the students would grow petrified of possibly cutting off their opponent's limb. Or even drawing blood. Such hesitance would make them even more susceptible to losing a duel.

Micah remembered his first time dueling Idris with real blades. He'd been petrified of harming his master. Unknowns to him at the time, he was the one who should have been petrified, having too many scars and near misses to count.

"Your goal is to disarm your opponent." He paused. "You have all done well so far." Candace, for the first time since the beginning of the trials, sounded sincere. "Ten more cadets will be cut after the tournament. After which, teams will be assembled and the real work will start tomorrow."

All the students stared at him in silence, the spectators even more quiet.

"Well?" Candace barked loudly. "What are you waiting for? Go!"

Keegan and Micah shared a look of quiet amusement before they headed towards the large canvas on the wall. The canvas revealed a bracket with all the students' names and their assigned mat for each match. Around the canvas, a few grey-clad staff workers loitered nearby. Clearly, they were the scorekeepers who would update the bracket after each match.

Micah's first match was with someone he hadn't interacted with yet.

The match ended within seconds.

As did the next and the next.

Swordplay was not fancy, but brutal and callous for Igni warriors. Micah found no reason to extend the duel any longer than necessary for the spectator's entertainment. His goal was to end it quickly in order to advance to his next competitor.

Often times, he had to wait on the sidelines for his opponent to finish their current duel.

The matchups were almost challenging in the sense that most students did not know how to wield a sword, having assumed the academy would teach them. Because of their inexperience, Micah almost feared they would hurt themselves in an effort to defend against him.

Fortunately, the more matches he won, the better the competitor. They provided more of a challenge. Some were even impressive with their form and ability. His matches went from lasting seconds to minutes, though he did not exert himself nor immerse into his Igni form. The observers probably weren't impressed with Micah.

Yes, he won quickly, but he did not provide flourish or entertainment.

Only a particularly good opponent could lure out more from Micah.

He kept an eye on Kai, watching as he dueled his cousin. They were nearing the end of the tournament and the eliminated students crowded the large stage Kai claimed for himself and his opponents.

Kai liked the drama.

He liked being the center of attention.

Unfortunately, because there were only a few students remaining, Micah also had to move his duels to the front of the arena and closer to the stands. He found himself waiting for his next opponent on one of the lower stages, feeling the eyes of the curious onlookers who weren't absorbed with Kai and Nereus' match.

He stood tall under their scrutiny, keeping his eyes stubbornly on the duel.

Nereus was good. Surprisingly good.

Micah titled his head, watching the pair closely. Both cousins wanted to win. Their practice spar during warmups did not compare to this. They both kept their composure ice-like, and yet, Micah could read the tension in their expressions. Kai was weak on his left side, but Nereus failed to notice. One important quality of a warrior was the ability to read an opponent. Nereus seemed to lack that particular insight and it would cost him the duel, no doubt.

"Distracted again, I see."

Micah suddenly took note of Talia standing on the stage opposite of him. "With you standing across from me, Talia? Never."

Her eyes narrowed at his flirtatious remark, not in the least bit impressed nor flattered. Instead, she lifted her sword and bowed low at the waist, a proper tradition to begin the duel. Micah simply followed her lead while maintaining steady eye contact.

Her ears turned red and her eyes squinted further.

Slashing her sword in front of her body, she ran towards him.

Micah, pleased, positioned his feet in a suitable stance and met her attack with a block. She was a fierce little thing. A head shorter than him, and weighing a lot less, she had strength Micah wouldn't have imagined just by looking at her. Yet, there she was, standing opposite of him and holding her ground as he pressed resistance against her blade.

He tested her strength, further pushing his blade against hers. Talia surprised him by sliding her sword off his and pivoting around his reach, assaulting him with an array of attacks.

Micah met each fierce strike, blocking each one with practiced ease.

He allowed her to back him towards the edge of the platform, knowing her intentions of using the surroundings to her advantage. However, if Idris taught him one thing to the point of monotony, it was to be aware of his surroundings.

Talia knew exactly where to hit his blade. Each strike reverberated across his sword and caused his arm to vibrate. Of course, that could be due to the cheap sword and the poor artisanship, but he credited her strength and precision as being the cause. She was good. She had a lot of potential.

Unfortunately, she wasn't there yet.

Micah knew when the back of his heel nearly hit the edge of the platform. One more step and he'd be an idiot and tumble off. He lulled her into a sense of self-assurance, a sense of control, before making his move.

When he was sure he deceived her, he pivoted expertly, trading positions with her.

Her eyes widened comically and panic wrinkled her expression. Rather unexpectedly, she took the end of her sword and slammed the hilt into his stomach. Micah wheezed in surprise, his lungs temporarily stunned as pain tremored through his abdomen. He barely had a chance to recover before turning and blocking the strike aimed at his turned back.

A cheap, but understandably desperate assault.

He then went on the offensive.

Talia remained persistent, refusing to be the defending opponent. She alternated between defense and offense, her strikes beginning to drift lower. Awkwardly, Micah fumbled to block the low hits, knowing the exact moment when Talia realized that he was not experienced fighting against smaller opponents.

Against Idris, Micah was always the smaller opponent.

To switch roles… well… it was not easy.

Suddenly, Talia struck. She slid to her knees and speared her sword toward his exposed abdomen. Acting on instincts alone, Micah pushed off his dominant foot and spun in the direction of the oncoming sword, just barely avoiding it.

Idris tried to shake his habit of leaping in the air.

Igni warriors did not leave their feet.

Ever.

Only, he was desperate now.

Carefully holding his sword in front of his body, he executed the jump, landing gracefully on his pivot foot as he faced Talia. He blocked her recovered onslaught, caressing his blade against hers before abruptly manipulating her hold. He forced her arm in a high arc, before abruptly twisting it around.

Her sword clattered to the stage and he pressed the tip of his sword against her neck.

She stared, wide-eyed, her face vulnerable for the first time. Her chest heaved as she recovered her breath. In the bright lights of the arena, visible sweat beaded just at her hairline.

"That was impressive," she whispered. "That jump."

"Impressive, maybe, but risky," he responded, lowering his sword as he heard a distinct sound of polite clapping from the onlookers. He'd forgotten they were present. "You did well. Must be those trousers."

Talia actually scoffed. "I wouldn't have gone as far as I had today if I would have remained passive." Her mouth twisted sourly, as if she'd tried too many of the capital's lemons. "Thank you, Egan."

Micah watched as she bent low to retrieve her sword. "Where did you learn how to fight?"

Her eyes shuttered. "My mother."

Her response was clipped and short. Evidently, she wasn't inclined to discuss the topic further and he would not press. Not when he had his own things to hide. Everyone was allowed an ambiguous past.

As Micah climbed down the platform, he endured Keegan's heavy shoulder clap. "That was amazing!" Keegan grinned broadly at Micah's detached expression. "Looks like you'll be facing the winner of Kai Edlen's match for the championship."

During Micah's match with Talia, Kai had won his round with Nereus.

Currently, somehow, Aiden lasted long enough to stand opposite of Kai. The Igni student appeared intimidated and sloppy against Kai. Micah hadn't seen much of Aiden's matches today, as he was too preoccupied with his own competitions, but the boy obviously had enough talent to make it this far in the competition.

He just didn't stand a chance against Kai.

As it was the last duel before the championship match, all eyes were on the pair of first-year cadets. The intimidation factor probably set Aiden off balance as it was. The boy wasn't accustomed to attention. Unfortunately, Kai took advantage of the boy's weaker frame of mind by accelerating and prolonging the experience. He was toying with the boy. Mocking him. Humiliating him.

Amused jeers from the onlookers spurred Kai to continue his onslaught.

Aiden fumbled with his sword, diving on his knees to grasp it before it hit the ground. The boy looked up at Kai's towering figure, his face red out of mortification and exertion.

"Keep hold of your sword, boy. I'm not through with you yet!" Kai bellowed.

The crowd cheered loudly.

Kai beamed.

Micah cast a cold eye across the ecstatic observers in the crowd. This was no longer a healthy competition between students for the first ranking cadet, but rather putting an Igni man to shame.

Igni and Unda. Their war ended years ago, yet the antagonist relationship continued to thrive under a thin veil of political harmony. Unda won the war. They were the superior race. The superior class. They would constantly strive to remind the Igni citizens of this fact.

"Tasteless," Keegan whispered next to him. "Poor Aiden. His dad, who was a soldier in the war, taught him how to fight. He is quite proud of his father."

Micah watched Kai. His initial plan was to bend the boy's back. Now he wanted nothing more but to shatter it.

His mother would frown. Scold him for such behavior. It was not fitting to extract such blatant, public revenge. Yet, sometimes it was required to set an example to others. Micah firmly believed society needed to be shaken to its core. In order to bridge the gap between the two races, there needed to be a cruel wakeup call.

Though Micah was biracial, he would represent the Igni people when necessary.

Aiden's humiliation lasted for several more minutes before his sword dropped from his hands and Kai quickly pressed the point of his blade against the boy's throat. At his sides, Aiden's hands trembled, yet his chin remained raised proudly.

Clapping thundered across the stadium, declaring Kai as the second participant for the championship match.

"Micah…" Keegan started hesitantly.

They watched as Aiden walked down the platform and submerged himself with his fellow peers. His face remained closed but he accepted their well wishes with dignity. Just down a ways, Kai accepted the congratulatory handshakes and the vigorous praise.

"Yes, Keegan?" Micah inquired lazily, waiting for the boy to give him false consolations or something silly like a good luck.

Only, Keegan turned to him, his yellow eyes bright and focused. "Treat him like he treated Aiden. Yeah?"

Micah blinked slowly, relishing Keegan's lust for vengeance and storing it into the back of his mind to savor later. The boy had some surprises up his sleeve, it seemed. He wasn't entirely guiltless. "I hadn't planned to do it any differently."

"Egan! Edlen!" Candace barked loudly over the noise of the stadium. "Get up there!"

Micah made his way up to the platform, well aware of the cadets watching his ascent with forbidding. His boots struck the stage, testing its bounciness with a displeased air. It was too soft for his liking, but he would adjust. He walked to one side of the platform, glancing towards Kai Edlen. The boy's over exuberant peers continued to surround him and he intentionally took his time.

He wanted to make Micah wait for him.

No matter.

One could try to humiliate, but it all depended on how the intended victim recovered.

Well aware of the heavy observation from the nobles on one side, and his nervous classmates on the other, Micah struck a proud, yet lazy form and remained completely still. He kept his eyes straight ahead as he contemplated the upcoming match. This could go well, or, quite possibly, it could go terribly. He never tried to humiliate someone during battle. Idris would never encourage it, but then again, Micah had a sense his old master would approve in this particular case.

As he stood there, lost in his contemplations, Micah became oversensitive to a specific pair of eyes that settled on his turned cheek.

He just barely discerned Josiah from his peripheral vision, yet the man's unwavering regard felt like a hot iron. Micah grew displeased when he felt his pulse pound rigorously in his chest, evidently a direct consequence to Josiah's attention. Having such an authoritative man's complete and utter regard was twistedly flattering.

Of course, Micah would never admit that to anyone, least of all himself.

"Edlen!" Candace's roar was enough to shake the stage. "Now!"

Kai eventually joined him on the platform, a self-serving smirk in place. "My apologies to keep you waiting."

Micah slowly refocused his eyes and broke from his immobile stance.

"Apologies accepted."

The other boy faltered at Micah's unpredicted response, for it was a response filled with equal haughtiness and superiority. Recovering quickly, Kai bowed to Micah.

Micah offered the same, short, choppy bow. He then executed the traditional Igni pre-form with precision and impeccable grace. Micah was not partial to performing the Igni stance to signal a start of a duel. He found it flashy and a part of him felt wrong for using it when he was not pureblooded Igni.

Warriors of old executed this as their starting stance all the time.

Micah twirled his sword in front of his body before raising it behind his back, positioning it similar to a scorpion's tail as he lowered in a proper stance. Someone in the stands hooted twice with wicked approval.

Never one to be outdone, Kai executed the opening form for the Unda technique. It wasn't nearly as flashy, but it was graceful, a good representation of their Element.

For a moment, Micah and Kai faced the other, both poised in their stance.

The crowd was silent, enthralled.

Traditionally, the Igni warrior would make the first move, but that was not Micah's style. When Kai realized an attack was not forthcoming, he slashed his sword through the air and charged across the platform.

Micah blocked the overhead attack before countering with one of his own.

Excitement spurred his movements enough to channel the necessary vehemence of the Igni form. His footwork was impeccable, a very imperative aspect with Igni warriors. Typically, they were smaller than the Unda male. Their fighting style relied on aggressive attacks and quick footed defense.

He relentlessly attacked Kai's right side, forcing the boy to use his energy by defending his strong side. He got the boy comfortable with the repetitive routine, remaining a persistent annoyance until Kai fell serenely into his trap.

When Kai grew blind in his confidence, Micah attacked his left side ferociously.

His weak side.

His attack was so sudden, so strong, Kai's sword slipped from his hands. The young man shouted his denial and reached for it ungracefully, nearly slicing his hand on the blade. He grabbed the hilt before it touched the ground and whipped around to attack Micah.

Only, he slashed at empty air.

To the other boy's surprise, Micah waited calmly across the platform.

He could have taken Kai out easily in his moment of weakness.

Instead, he just chose to humiliate.

Twirling his sword lazily, Micah watched as a lovely pink stained the boy's face. "Keep hold of your sword, boy." Micah raised his sword arm and pointed his weapon at Kai. "I'm not through with you yet."

Disbelief suspended heavily across the arena as Micah uttered the same taunt the boy had used earlier on Aiden. Disbelief soon morphed into earsplitting cries of both outrage and elation amongst the spectators. The most outraged individual in the arena, however, was Kai.

He roared loudly, his noble guise slipping completely as he charged at Micah.

Micah grinned inanely and rushed to meet the boy at the center.

Now this was more like it!

He met and blocked each of Kai's frenzied attacks, dancing and pivoting around the boy to mock him further. Kai's strikes no longer were precise and controlled. If Kai managed to hit his mark, his rage was so great, Candace's warning about loss of limb certainly wouldn't have mattered. As it was, most the time, Kai's attacks swooshed through empty air and he hastily had to redirect in order to block Micah's well-timed counterattacks.

Sachiel was correct.

The boy grew far too aggressive when backed into a corner. It wasn't anything like the Unda technique when he grew agitated.

Mirth, so strong with its intensity, nearly suffocated Micah. He couldn't help it. It was too easy. It wasn't as if he were so superior to Kai, it was simply because Kai had such a large weakness when it came to battle temperament that Micah could easily take advantage.

Kai left himself open quite painfully as he focused on disarming Micah.

Micah darted underneath the strike and appeared suddenly at Kai's unprotected back. He kicked the boy's legs out from underneath him and nudged him in the back. The blond-haired cadet fell forward on his knees, stilling unnaturally when Micah's sword pressed against his exposed neck.

A cruel smile curled the edges of his mouth as he considered the defeated boy at his mercy. Power surged through him as he stood over his prey.

It felt so good.

As focused as he was, Micah snapped out of his reprieve when a solitarily pair of hands clapped at his victory.

A bit dazed from his battle lust, he looked up at an elder Igni man who had stood up from the stands. Around the man, other Igni nobles soon joined in the clapping. The students, who'd grown quiet with surprise, were now congratulating him from the edge of the stage.

Micah removed his sword from Kai's neck and stepped back. He'd almost forgotten why he set out to beat Kai, having nearly lost himself in the excitement of a competitive duel.

Through blank eyes, Micah watched as Kai slowly pulled himself off the ground. The boy turned to face him, regarding Micah coolly and far more composed than anticipated. Something shifted in the young man's gaze as he held out a hand.

"Good match. Egan."

Micah deliberated both the hand and the boy. He was well aware of the scorn directed towards him by the others. They recognized his victory for what it was. Retaliation. Kai must have acknowledged it as well, only, there was no anger, no fierceness.

Just a reluctant acceptance.

Perhaps Micah had underestimated the boy's character.

He shook the hand. "It was the most challenging match I've encountered today."

Both tense, they turned and walked down the platform. Micah submerged himself within the sea of antagonistic faces, realizing he hadn't won a simple sword duel, but rather fueled a dying flame left unattended for far too long.