You Hit Harder Than You Think

The forest swayed in the early light of dawn, breeze flowing through its branches like a stream. Dewdrops clung to the grass, sparkling like jewels and refracting the world around it. The world was near silent, broken only by birdsong and the rustle of foliage.

…In one part of the forest however, that silence was being broken by something else.

*BOOOM!*

A plume of dirt and stone exploded up in a cloud, shaking the clearing. Dust and debris flew, pinging off adamantine like hail against steel.

Citrine rolled her shoulders, brushing off her clothes as shattered pillars of mica and granite rained down beside her. In front of her was a shield, solidly struck into the ground, barely nicked despite a crater-sized impact in the earth.

She frowned, shouting out to the wielder behind it. "You're holding back. I told you not to!"

A grunt as the ogrelyn warrior stood up. "I'm not. You just hit harder than you think," Ferris replied, dusting herself off as she uprooted the hunk of metal. "Haven't had to brace myself this hard since the Ashen King, y'know?"

"Then what of your counterattacks? Why haven't you made an effort to hit back?" She raised an eyebrow in challenge. "I've been on the offensive this whole match, but you've barely taken the opportunity to strike."

"Because you just wanted to see how I held up? Right?" Ferris responded, mace still hanging from her side. "Well, not sure what's in question. You've seen that my form's not changed that much, haven't you?"

Citrine crossed her arms, lower lip jutting forward slightly. The truth was, the warrior wasn't wrong. They'd spent the last hour gauging each other's abilities, and she'd been pleasantly surprised at the results. Ferris was just as capable as she remembered—in fact, perhaps even better. She didn't rely on simply brute forcing her way through challenges anymore, instead opting to make the best of her equipment and positioning. Her footwork was better too, no longer quite as sturdy perhaps, but a bit more agile, flexible.

"…" But something was still bothering her, and the half-elf couldn't quite put her finger on it. It felt like there was a piece missing, a gap between the Ferris she knew and the Ferris in front of her.

"Are you going to just keep staring at me or—Ack! Apologies, sorry," Ferris said, bowing her head. "I'll stop. Just tell me what you want me to do next."

Citrine squinted. That. That was it. Or at least part of it. The deference, the politeness. It all seemed so forced compared to the warrior's normal attitude. Yesterday, she could understand. Nervousness was natural after revealing such a change, and she'd assumed she'd managed to break that barrier when they'd had tea together last night. But now standing amidst combat, it was like she'd reverted back—no, she was forcing herself to revert back to that.

"It's fine to quip. Combat doesn't seem to be the place to hold yourself back," the half-elf pointed out. "Besides, that was one of the things I liked most about your fighting style in the past. The way you talk helps distract the enemy, makes them emotional, more prone to mistakes. Although it always did seem a little silly."

Ferris redirected her gaze. "Yeah, but that's uh, not really appropriate anymore. At least, it just doesn't feel right to do the same things I used to. I'm different now."

"Is it because your voice is higher or something?" Citrine deadpanned.

"I mean—" The ogrelyn's voice cracked, then settled, as she coughed to clear her throat. "Ladies don't just go around pointing out people's flaws or shortcomings to get a rise out of them. We're supposed to be kind, respectful! To everyone!"

The half-elf's face scrunched up, as if she'd just sucked down a mouthful of yuzu.

"Where did you get that idea? Prep school?" She shook her head, sighing in exasperation. "And if ladies are supposed to be like that, what does that make me?"

"Wha—No! I didn't mean you! I just—"

*crackle* *crunch* *snap*

Rocks and earth began shifting around the half-elf as mana flowed from her veins into the ground beneath her feet, geomancy shaping the world like clay. Jagged spikes of granite and blades of mica formed around her like an armor, extending and interlocking into a second skin of earth.

"Coward. Impressionable. Idiot," Citrine insulted, her eyes turning to molten purple-gold as magic surged through her irises. It admittedly hurt her a little, but it needed to be said. "I've dealt with 'propers' in high society before. Trust me, they're far from good examples."

"Citrine, this is a bad idea—" Ferris warned, hefting her shield and weapon.

"Too late." A surge, then a snap. The half-elf's voice rang through the forest like a bell as the ground shattered. "Prepare yourself."

Stone rose from the jagged landscape, reshaping into gems with points like arrows or columns like battering rams. They hovered in the air, shimmering in a kaleidoscope of colors and hues.

Ferris's face hardened, her grip tightening as her shield raised. "I'm telling you. You're making a mistake—"

*CRACK*

A pillar slammed into the ground. An explosion of rock, and the ogrelyn disappeared in the cloud, forced to dodge or be crushed.

"Foolish," the geomancer chided. "Is this the Adamantine? The warrior that stood ground against thousands of foes? I always thought you'd never be felled, so to think dumb stereotypes would do it instead? Where's the warrior I know?!"

The curse's pain flared in her chest as she converted more life force to mana for an attack, but she shoved it down, focusing back on the fight.

Ferris redirected the round of hurled spikes to the ground. "I-I just want to live my life in the way that's right for me! To be myself!"

"Then stop holding yourself back! Stop trying to act like you're someone else!" Another pillar, this one aimed to strike from above. "It's fine to be different, but that's not what I'm seeing here. You're trying to be what you're not—"

A shockwave of force suddenly pulsed through the air, and a flash of adamantine exploded upward from within the dust cloud, rebounding off the floating pillars like a comet.

"!" What the—Citrine spun around, her senses sharpening to track the flying figure.

She realized her mistake.

Ferris's figure, while still built and relatively broad, was far more agile than it'd once been. It was like muscle had been compacted—concentrated, allowing speed to be gained without sacrificing strength. And the way the warrior moved?

It was a dance, a rapid series of leaps and bounds, her armored feet landing on a gem like a platform before shattering it and springing off again in the opposite direction.

*SHATTER* The last of her projectiles turned to dust—

"!" And a mountain slammed into her chest, piling her into the ground.

The world spun. Air left her lungs. And when her vision cleared, an adamantine boot was pinning her to the ground, her opponent's mace looming over her heart.

"Care to say that again, rockhead?" Ferris asked.

*SMACK* Citrine slapped the earth beneath her, a wave of stone rising to launch her away. Mica crumbled as she was ejected from her exoskeleton, giving her space to breathe.

A beat of silence passed, both parties panting.

"That's certainly new." Citrine stood slowly as the dust settled, gaze rising with her. "Why didn't you do that from the begin—"

Eyes blared wide open, cutting herself off.

Where was Ferris' armor?

"Your plate." The geomancer nearly stammered upon seeing the woman's exposed under armor. Cloth was ridden up to her chest, and her midriff was exposed, a dark tan line hovering below her cleavage, with a chain stuffed in between. She hadn't even seen the armor fall off. When did she—

"SHIT!" The ogrelyn screamed, covering her breasts with her arms, although they only seemed to accentuate their size. "Damn straps! This is what I get for getting a rushed repair job!"

"…" Citrine's brain crashed, unable to come up with a response. Her eyes wandered down Ferris's form. The sculpted muscles of her biceps and core, the curve of her hips, the way the sun illuminated the valley of her ample cleavage, all the way to her—

"STOP STARING, PLEASE!" the warrior shouted, her voice pitched high enough to crack the air. She quickly covered herself with her shield, trying to preserve whatever supposed dignity she had left.

"A-abs. Nice," Citrine blurted out, her mouth finishing the detailed analysis for her.

Crap. NO! That was not a response fitting of someone of her station.

"Th—thank you?" Ferris answered in confusion, before shaking her head and yelling. "NOT THE POINT. STOP LOOKING!"

Citrine's ears twitched, forcing her eyes to the floor as she tried to salvage the unfortunate situation. She needed to change the subject to something—

"Why'd you make me act like that, Citrine?"

…Or that.

"Erm, what do you mean?"

"I mean, why'd you goad me?" Ferris clarified. "You said this would be casual, but… that wasn't a spar. That was an insult match! You wanted to rile me up, didn't you?"

"…I suppose you could say that," the shopkeeper eventually admitted, looking out into the forest to distract her fluttering chest. "I was trying to make you act more like your old self."

Emerald eyes lost their luster. "What do you mean?"

Citrine immediately doubled back on the horrible choice of words. "I misspoke. I wasn't trying to make you act like your old self. I just didn't want you forcing yourself to act in a certain way. I can tell it's not natural." She gestured to the shield covering the warrior. "Like, why are you doing that? It's not like you're a prude. You used to literally grind rocks on those abs to flex after fights."

"!" Ferris reddened further. "D-don't bring that up!"

"Why not? It was rather impressive. You enjoyed it. I enjoyed—I mean, we enjoyed it. Everyone did. You don't have to pretend to be ashamed, especially when your form is as immaculate as it is."

"Citrine!" The warrior's voice pitched high again. "Please stop!"

The half-elf paused, her mind finally weaved back together at the pure mortification on Ferris' face.

…Okay, perhaps the embarrassment wasn't a façade.

Her ears fell slightly, trying to brush off her misread. "Apologies, I'll… lay off on that. But in all seriousness, you've obviously been holding back. Combat, conversation, everything."

"…" Ferris winced, unable to rebut. "Maybe. So what?"

"Nothing, so long as you're aware of it." Citrine leaned forward. "Ferris, you're fine the way you are. You don't have to hold back on anyone's account to prove yourself woman or otherwise. Do you understand that?"

A morning breeze blew past them, rustling the foliage of the stilled clearing.

"I'll… get back to you on that." A cough. "Can we head back now though? It actually is rather chilly with just a single layer on."

Citrine sighed. "That'll do, I suppose. I'll grab your armor then." Magic levitated the plates of adamantine from where they'd fallen, floating beside the half-elf as she began walking back.

After finally wrangling the last of her strangely riled emotions, she looked over at Ferris, who'd since covered the rest of herself in her cloak.

"If you'd like, I know someone who could fix the straps of your armor properly by tomorrow. It'd be bad if this happened again in the middle of combat."

"That… that would be helpful."

A few more steps as she reset the world around them, geomancy reverting the clearing to its original state. "By the way, I apologize too for my comments, both insults and observation. I didn't mean to make light of the situation or embarrass you. I just wanted to help."

Ferris blinked. "Observation? Oh, the abs comment? No, no, the others weren't nice, but that one? It was just… unexpected. Never thought you of all people would be the one saying it."

The shopkeep relaxed a bit at the affirmation, and perhaps a bit at the more casual stance the ogrelyn had readopted. "Anyway, you're welcome to walk beside me again. It's rather awkward having you behind me like that."

Brief hesitation. Then the warrior complied, taking a position by Citrine's side.

"…Do you actually like them? They're not off-putting now or anything?"

Citrine's ear twitched, nearly de-levitating the armor in surprise. "Oh. Uh, in a purely objective fashion, yes, I like them. They clearly show the care and effort you put into yourself. But don't get the wrong idea. My heart's eyes are meant for gems and rocks, after all."

The warrior lingered on the statement before an awkward blush formed. "…Right. Right, that makes sense. Just rocks and gems?"

"Rocks and gems," Citrine reiterated as her shop and the mini golems came into view, trying not to look her directly in the face.

A pause. Then, a resigned chuckle-giggle.

"You really do hit harder than you think."