Chapter Two: Fire Beneath the Split (Part Four)
Date: May 22, Year 204 PCR (Maelis 22)
Location: Trial Arena – Harmonic Lyceum
Time: Midday
Selka took her second step.
Not rushed. Not panicked. Not even reactive.
Vessa's entire cascade of pressure glyphs had folded into the dust behind her, carving trenches in the outer ring—but Selka remained untouched, her cloak drifting behind her like it had learned the rhythm of the wind itself.
The Veilmark across her arm cooled into stillness again. Not dormant—waiting.
Vessa exhaled hard. Her knees braced slightly, and the glow across her forearms sharpened, bleeding into her pulse threads. Her stance lowered.
She changed tactics.
"VEILMARK ART — TIDEBINDER FORM: Anchor Lash Bind."
This time, it wasn't pressure—it was force.
Liquid glyphwork spiraled from her feet outward in a wave, rising mid-air into tendrils that whipped horizontally at chest height. The first cracked past Selka's ribs. The second spun behind her shoulder. The third—
Selka moved.
This time it wasn't elegant. It was precise.
Her body turned just outside the tendril's range—not wide enough to dodge, but deep enough to redirect.
She touched the glyph mid-air.
It collapsed.
"VEILMARK ART — THREADGLIDE SPLICE: Fray Touch Null."
The crowd gasped. Some of the instructors leaned forward now. This wasn't a dodge or a cancel.
Selka had overwritten the pulse.
Vessa stumbled again. Her momentum broke mid-flow. She tried to re-center, shifting her stance—but Selka was already on her.
A soft palm struck Vessa's blade-wrist.
Her glyph blinked once.
"No balance."
A second strike, to the side of her ribs.
"No tether."
Then Selka's hand opened, hovered at Vessa's chest, and—
"VEILMARK ART — SHATTERSTEP: Echo Fold Burst."
Not an explosion. A reversal.
A rippling collapse of Vessa's last activated glyph. The energy shattered inward, like glass being pulled back through a tunnel.
Vessa flew six feet backward. Landed hard. Rolled once and staggered upright.
Still standing.
The crowd roared now—not for dominance, but because the arena had started responding.
The outer stone vibrated. Some of the ambient pulse-threads in the walls began to hum off-sync.
Selka stepped back.
She didn't follow up. Didn't press the advantage.
She waited.
Let the world settle.
Her eyes stayed on Vessa.
Not with pity.
With expectation.
As if she knew the fight hadn't earned its ending yet.
Vessa wiped her mouth. Blood. She spat.
Then smiled.
"Good," she rasped. "Then I don't have to hold back either."
Her Veilmark activated again—this time across her back. A symbol not yet shown. Lines intersecting like breaking tides against an unseen cliff.
"FINAL VEILMARK ART — Crestfall Riptide Surge!"
The floor of the arena cracked wide. A shockwave pulsed from the center outward—not at Selka, but beneath her, trying to launch her off-balance from underfoot.
Selka didn't brace.
She closed her eyes again.
"You're still fighting to be seen."
"I'm fighting to be felt."
Her glyph flared again—fully this time.
The silver thread split into three mirrored bands, running along her ribcage, collar, and left leg.
The air around her folded.
Just once.
And the sound it made wasn't a crack.
It was a chime.