The Next Day
The fighters' waiting room buzzed with quiet energy, the muffled voices from the stands leaking in through the walls.
Xain sat near one of the walls, gaze unfocused, fidgeting with the cuff of his sleeve.
"Felt like the morning went by fast," he muttered to himself.
*I think that's because you're excited, ape,* Ercale said flatly in his head.
*Maybe I am…* Xain admitted. *Still, I can't stop thinking about that assassin. It feels wrong just sitting here. Like—we should be doing something.*
*Then go chase ghosts if you want,* Ercale scoffed. *But don't expect me to lift a finger if it involves helping anyone from Veridiania.*
And with that, the Demon Lord went silent.
Xain blinked, frowning slightly. "He really doesn't like them, does he?" he said aloud without thinking.
"What are you talking about~?" Mae asked suddenly from beside him, wearing a teasing smirk that made him jump.
"Uh—no-nothing! Just talking to myself, y'know? I'm worried. A lot. About the tournament!" he stammered, flailing his hands a little as if that would erase the awkwardness.
Mae tilted her head with a teasing smile, arms behind her back. "Oh~? And what's got you so worked up, Xain? Could it be… me you're worried about?" She clasped her hands to her chest dramatically. "Is this your way of confessing?"
"M-maybe! I mean—you're Zee's sister, of course I'd worry!" he blurted with an awkward chuckle, one hand flying to the back of his neck as his ears burned.
"Awwww," Mae gave him a mock-sad pout. "So you only care because of her. That's cold. Heartless, even."
Xain's face twisted as he realized how it sounded. "No—I mean—I didn't—!"
Flick.
Mae tapped his forehead with two fingers, grinning as he flinched. "Relax. I don't actually care what you think about me." She turned away, waving him off like a bored cat swatting at yarn.
Xain slumped a little.
Mae's gaze drifted toward the viewing window. On the other side, the arena gleamed in the daylight. Lexy stood there, humming softly and bobbing her head to music only she could hear. She seemed more like someone waiting for a fun ride than preparing for match.
"She looks like she's ready to pounce," Mae said with a chuckle. "I wonder if she's as excited as I am for this match."
"You should be careful," Xain said, a little more serious now. "She's not just any fighter—she's an assassin. And a changeling. Who knows what kind of tricks she's capable of?"
Mae rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you sound just like Zee. Honestly, no wonder you two are all over each other."
"We are not!" Xain snapped, voice jumping two octaves as his face turned red. His outburst turned a few heads across the room.
Even wandered over, eyebrow raised and grin forming. "Wait, are we teasing him again?" he asked. "Because someone really should've told me we were teasing him again."
While Xain endured what had become his daily dose of teasing from the others, near the viewing window, a quieter exchange was unfolding.
Zeva stood with arms crossed, her sharp gaze fixed on Edluar. "How are you feeling?" she asked, her tone calm but probing.
The half-elf straightened, brushing his hair behind one ear. "Already accepting defeat," he said with a faint chuckle. "I know it's pointless trying to win against you."
Zeva's expression soured immediately. She stepped in, closing the distance between them with a sudden sharpness. "Don't you dare give up before we've even stepped into the arena," she said, eyes narrowing. "Holding back against a swordswoman is the biggest insult you could offer."
Edluar held her gaze. The joking look faded from his eyes. He closed them briefly, exhaled, then opened them again with a nod. "Don't worry. I'll fight you properly. I just—" he paused, then shrugged lightly, "—I've just made peace with the fact that winning is… a very, very unlikely outcome."
Zeva stared at him for a moment longer, then eased back with a soft sigh.
"Good," she said simply.
Her eyes flicked downward to the pair of swords resting at his hips.
"I've been looking forward to seeing your swordsmanship," she added, voice calm but carrying a subtle heat beneath it.
Edluar let out a quiet breath, a little sheepish. "I'm not all that impressive."
Zeva waved off the comment without missing a beat. "I'll be the judge of that."
Before he could respond, the familiar sound of Quincy's voice echoed above the arena—sharp, clear, and laced with showmanship.
"Welcome everyone to the third day of The. Tournament. Of. Greatness!!!" she shouted, her voice booming from high in the sky as she flew in broad loops above the open air.
The third day of the tournament has begun!