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- Trigger Warning: Fantasy violence & bleed -
This update takes place After "May the Heart Never Fail Me" & Before "A New Dawning". The Narrative order will be listed at the end of this update.
The Graduation tournament will be in multiple parts, published in order and will be numbered in Roman Numerals for further clarification
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The stone rune flashed bright against Alexander's eyes, successfully stunning him. With enough time, Ethan wrapped his hand around the crushing jaws and steered his opponent's head in the opposite direction, to safely leverage himself off the durable body and muscles that preyed on the shifter's weakness.
Ethan wanted to get another dash in, but before his foot hit the ground, his body doubled over as he felt a crushing force land into his stomach.
He was thrown at a speed at which he was not prepared to orient, tumbling and crashing into the arena's wall. The stone through his body cracked hairline fractures, spindling like glass, before it shattered away and melted back to flesh, making him lose both the form and the ancient etchings he had imbued himself with.
Alexander's speed kept up with Ethan as they both traveled across the distance, like a hunter tracking down wounded prey.
A back-handed slam from the gator into Ethan's side kept the battle moving from the new indenture of what should have been an indestructible fighting arena.
As Ethan slid across the floor, dirt and dust kicked up, that quickly began to ignite sparks where he touched ground before rolling himself into a tumble.
When the dust settled, his new, sturdier body was made much clearer by the black steel that locked together through intersecting gears and mechanisms, joints, and mechanical bodily systems. On each shoulder plate were plated two new runes, one emitting a frosting chill into the air while the other wafted a blazing heat. What was most important about this new shape was the wings that he sprouted from his back, layers upon layers of feathers that were edged as hundreds of blades.
The wings helped give Ethan the boost he needed as he dodged out of reach before he was ripped from the sky, and with the sun to his back, he had the advantage over his reptilian opponent.
A protective visor locked in over Ethan's face as his wings stretched and curled around him in a protective position, but with the curvature of the wings, the knives flared outward from around him, prepared for the offense. That's when he dove down with the speed of a falcon, bulleting from the sky and straight to where Alexander stood.
Alexander had braced for the impact, but not for the blades, the dozens of them, slicing in like papercuts. They were fine enough to slip between his scales, scoring his body with countless razor-thin lacerations.
As he withstood the strike that barely caused him to stagger until fiery chains erupted from the ground and snapped around his wrists. They ripped his arms open wide past his natural reach to leave him wide open and vulnerable to the next strike.
Ethan didn't hesitate. He drove his sword into the wound he'd opened earlier, swinging with all his might to carve deeper into the weakened flesh. The strike landed cleanly, but the tension beneath the skin and the muscle offered complete resistance. With no easy chance of maximizing the damage with just that one strike.
In a fury, driven by barbaric rage, Alexander broke free of his chains and whipped the hot metal around Ethan's wings. With a roar, he slammed the metal angel back down to the ground. Once in reach, he brought his elbow down upon the shoulders of the bladed appendages, the metal shrieking in agony as they bent. He pulled back, prepping for another crushing blow, only to strike air as they vanished, retreating into Ethan's body.
The specule traded wings for a tail.
Ethan's new lamia tail coiled around Alexander's leg, climbing up to his torso. Gears groaned and pistons sighed as the machine-body clamped tighter, encasing the barbarian in a slow, constricting grip, causing his breathing to grow heavier, more strained.
With Alexander immobilized, Ethan lunged his upper body into the festering wound he's targeted again and again, evoking a more guttural scream from the larger warrior.
Alexander retaliated by gripping the tail wrapped around him and crushing it with brute force. His fingers dug in, snapping mechanical joints and steel bones as easily as twigs. The same constriction Ethan inflicted was returned—but harder, more brutally. There was no contest. Alexander was much stronger.
The balance of power slipped back again.
Pushing through the agony of the sword still lodged in his shoulder, Alexander's pupils shrank to slits. His strength became feral.
Snarling, he sank his teeth deep into Ethan's neck and shoulder, while his claws tore into the tail's plating. His grip was powerful, raw, and unrelenting as he began tearing Ethan away, snapping latch mechanisms one by one, ripping the tail off with savage precision and force.
The pain was excruciating. Ethan felt it all—every wire torn, every joint broken—as Alexander dismantled him piece by piece.
Unable to endure it in his hybrid form, Ethan abandoned his shifted state, leaving his skin raw, stripped of the protective stone and metal that was supposed to armor him. He surrendered, choosing the lesser pain of torn flesh over the unbearable agony of resisting Alexander's might.
There was no excuse for finding himself in this position twice when there were over a thousand strategies to prevent him from ending up there, but now he needed to return to damage control once again. The pain from keeping his machine body would have driven him unconscious, winning Alexander the match.
Ethan was off his game, and he was slipping, both men knew that, but he couldn't lose heart.
Changing back adjusted Alexander's grip from around the tail to only one of Ethan's legs, leading to a sickening crunch followed by a burning and aching pain plaguing his body, till nothing was felt.
He couldn't feel anything below the waist.
A high-pitched ringing filled his ears, drowning out the crowd's screams. Everything slowly became overwhelming, all the muscles in his body released their tension, and the world tilted and rotated around him. But still his muscles refused to respond to any call for movement, when this moment was so vital.
Ethan was slammed into the floor again, then again. Each aching hit across his body was slowly waking the nerves he had lost till he found the strength to slam his own fist into the reptile's jaw.
He sent blow after blow into his opponent, who relented no reaction, not even a flinch, as if all of Ethan's strikes were into a stone wall that damaged his hands more than breaking down this indomitable force.
But Ethan's swings did not go unanswered, for each hit returned with the gator's own punches, brutal hit after brutal hit. Blood leaked down from the blade still embedded in Alexander's shoulder, warm and heavy onto the pinned specule.
Dylan had always made these fights look easy, moments of raw, close-quarters fighting, with nothing else but strength and will. But that was foreign to Ethan; he was a tactician, more likely to look for a way to escape back to the safety of his brother before facing these direct fronts head-on. Even now, he needed to slip away again.
Run away.
It was a sickening vice that crept back up again like a devilish serpent coiling around his heart, sprouting wings in his chest, and threatening to rip itself free.
He knew he couldn't stay there, drowning under the watch of so many spectators waiting for him to break, watching and staring. Somewhere in the crowd was a pair of blue eyes, sharp and unwavering. If he broke now, would he bear the disappointment that would cloud their vision?
Ethan moved.
He tried to stand and failed, tried to crawl but collapsed under the weight of his own body, so he lunged.
Reaching, his hand closed around the hilt of his sword, and with every shred of strength, he twisted the blade deeper into the shoulder. Slicing through tissue, rupturing muscle, all in the goal of making that pain sharper, Alexander's arm heavier.
Alexander hissed out and broke his grip on the shifter and reached for the sword instead. The edges of the blade bit into the meat of his palms as he roared out, squeezing the metal and bending it like soft clay until the tensile strength held out no longer.
Ethan, along with the hilt of the sword, clattered back down to the ground as the fighter took one large step back.
That one motion granted both of them an advantage.
With the blade still buried in his flesh, Alexander would not have to bother about a bleeding open wound. For Ethan, while he no longer had a weapon to wield, he was granted an opportunity.
Ethan shifted into a sleek, anthropomorphic body of water, shaped as an otter trac're. Now being slippery and fluid, he lunged for the sword hilt before it could clatter out of reach, and just in time.
He grasped tightly to the hilt as he was dragged back into melee with the gator, using the momentum to twist his body and stagger Alexander from up under the chin. He pursued the second half of his sword, holding on as tightly as he could as blood began to seep into his hand.
In the struggle, Ethan reshaped the water of his being so that with a crashing force, he pushed with all the might he could throw into the blade.
The Blade bit and tore at the muscle with slow agony until it had freed itself to glisten a crimson red in the glaring sun, devoid of the pain it brought, but his opponent wouldn't forget.
Alexander roared in pain, shielding his eye from any additional damage as his sight was just barely spared from a wound he could not be healed from. But the scar from this injury would be the slowest to heal.
The combat did not slow down for a moment, but it was noted by the onlooking judges out in the stands, scrutinizing each and every detail.
Alexander was not ready to give in to any injury, and neither was Ethan ready to give up on the plan he had begun to form.
Ethan slid fast across the cracked stadium floor and out of the way of Alexander as he slammed a fist down into the ground, seeking retribution for his eye and shattering more of the metal tiles. Air bubbled through the water, easing the pain in his broken leg as it realigned and healed back into place.
Ethan needed to be quick because it would not be long before the reptile would gain back full sight.
Even blinded, Alexander turned, sweeping his tail to cover from behind, rotated with a swinging kick in front, demonstrating his space, and attempting to locate where Ethan had gone.
The specule quickly dropped to the ground and used the blood in the water to scrawl another rune on the floor, leaping back just as quickly the moment he finished.
Alexander's deathly hiss alerted him that he had been found. With only two fingers on the ground, steadying himself, power surged through the reptile while preparing a charge that both men knew Ethan wouldn't survive.
Ethan stepped back regardless, raising the broken metal to brace himself.
Alexander was quick, almost too quick, but not quick enough when he had almost passed over the cryptic sigil that went unnoticed.
The first chains of burning metal failed to grasp him, but they made their hold around Alexander's legs, which dropped him to his knees.
Ethan left his stance en garde and took to motion, the water solidifying into a solid, cold metal of Iridium as the distance closed.
The weight of the swing left no surprise to be imagined. The impact was solid and muted with no ringing out as the metal guard slammed into the temple, just above the wounded eye, at full force of Ethan's weight, movement, and injury.
That heavy hit brought upon a thick silence.
Alexander collapsed with the chains, gravity, and his weight dragging him down in a final heavy thud.
Silence seemed to lengthen.
It wasn't just the ringing in Ethan's ears, but it was the whole stadium. Everyone stared.
Was that… it?
Ethan stared at the motionless body of his unconscious classmate. That meant… he'd won. If he really did, that would mean he would become top-ranked in the graduating class.
Not yet, he couldn't believe it, couldn't let it get ahead of himself. Not. yet.
Based on skill and technical scoring, he shouldn't have won.
Alexander still hasn't moved yet.
The silence stretched like hours.
Ethan kept wondering to himself.
Is this a fake-out? A clone? Am I dropping my guard too soon?
Then the tournament horn sounded.
It hit his nervous system like a truck, snapping him out of his daze.
Ethan looked around at the crowd. The stands, the thunderous applause, and screams of people rising from their seats as the most anticipated graduation ceremony of this century had reached its conclusion.
It wasn't until he found those blue eyes in the stands, changing back to his casual self, that he truly felt it in that moment.
He had won.
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Narrative order:
- intro
- May the Heart Never Fail me
- The Graduation Tournament
- A New Dawning
- Mission Start
- Campfire