Chapter 15:

Kade vs. Galir

Children of Mother Moon

The birds of light twisted lazily around Kade’s head, six of them today. They weren’t birds exactly. One had antlers, one had four wings, and another was shaped like a cube with beady little eyes. The rest chirped in total silence, flapping gently in the warm air, leaving trails of moonlight behind them like smug little comets.

Kade sat cross-legged in the grass, leaning back on his palms like he had all the time in the world, grinning at nothing and everything. Galir wasn’t sure what irritated him more, the fact that Kade could make those things or that he looked like he was genuinely enjoying himself while doing it.

It had been two weeks of this. Two weeks of watching from the side while Kade summoned increasingly complex shapes out of light and made them flutter, spin, dance, and explode with joyful little pops. Two weeks of seeing how quickly he learned. Two weeks of grinning. Constant grinning.

Galir’s left eye twitched.

“Kade?”

Ayen and Hanel were nearby, in one of their usual discussions, which meant Ayen was throwing words around like pebbles at a window and Hanel was trying not to look annoyed.

Kade’s head snapped up at the sound of his name, eyes bright as ever.

“Oh! Hey, Galir!”

As if he hadn’t just seen him five minutes ago. As if every word Galir spoke to him was a treasure.

Galir almost frowned on principle.

“Do you want to duel?”

Silence.

Then, as expected, Kade lit up like a festival lantern. “YES. Wait… Really?! Right now?! Oh, man, I was hoping you'd say that. This is going to be so fun!”

Fun. Yes. That was what this was.

Galir had known he’d say yes. Kade never said no. It was… exhausting.

They made their way across the courtyard. Kade kept bouncing on the balls of his feet, talking at double-speed about how long he’d been waiting for this, how cool Galir looked when he trained with Hanel, how he’d been practicing something new and really really hoped Galir would like it.

Galir only grunted in response.

He studied Kade’s movements, the way he stretched dramatically, arms flailing over his head like some overenthusiastic performer. They’d already been training all morning. The warm-up was entirely unnecessary.

And yet, Galir couldn’t look away.

No one in Lunavin acted like that. Not a single sorcerer would take an unblessed opponent seriously.

But Kade… Kade treated Galir like a rival, an equal.

That was either admirable or idiotic.

Most likely both.

Galir frowned. Kade would never survive the Lunar Triad. Not the whispers. Not the masks behind masks, that made Hanel's eyes sometimes tighten when he thought no one was looking. Kade was a sunbeam thrown into a room of shadows. He’d be eaten alive.

“READY!” Kade yelled, snapping Galir out of his thoughts.

By now, Ayen had paused mid-sentence. Hanel had stopped responding. Both were watching.

Galir caught Hanel’s eye. He didn’t move to interfere.

Good.

They were past that now. Hanel knew that Galir didn’t need saving from his magic-less condition.

He was unblessed, not useless.

From the edge of the yard, Ayen leaned forward, an annoying sparkle in her eyes. "Looking good today, Sunshine! Don’t lose to the Master of Gloom over there, or I will be offended!”

She was always like this, mouth faster than her brain and twice as loud. Galir ignored her. Kade did not.

He blanched.

Then blushed.

The absolute wrong reaction. Ayen grinned like a wolf.

“Focus.”

Galir drew his twin swords, real ones, forged with steel and effort and actual sweat, unlike whatever mystical glow-creatures Kade was waving around, and settled into his stance.

“Don’t hold back,” he said.

Kade nodded solemnly. “I promise. No holding back.” Then ruined the moment by adding, “Except a little, because you don’t have magic and I don’t want to accidentally hurt you or…”

“Ayen,” Galir called, not looking away from Kade. “If he starts talking like that again, throw something at him.”

“With pleasure,” she said cheerfully, already picking up a small stone.

Kade looked nervous. “Wait…hold on!”

He straightened, and the shift was instant.

Light bloomed in his hands. It made a shape in front of him.

Not like before, like the massive bird of blue fire he’d summoned against Ayen. Not even a chaotic splash of unstable magic.

No.

What rose in front of Kade was… Galir.

A perfect replica.

Same height. Same lean muscle. Same blades gleaming in each hand.

Formed entirely of blue light.

The illusion Galir tilted his head in the same way Galir did when he was measuring someone’s reach. Then it stepped forward.

“What in the…” Galir muttered.

Ayen broke into loud, obnoxious laughter from the sidelines.

Hanel… blinked. That was a lot for him.

And Kade?

Kade was grinning like the nuisance he was.

“Ta-daa!” he said, as if he'd just presented a gift.

Galir regretted everything.

****

The clone lunged.

And the duel began.

Blue steel met real steel with a crackle.

Galir sidestepped, blades sweeping in an X to intercept. The clone met him edge for edge, matching his motion exactly, step for step, strike for strike.

“...Tch.”

He hated how well it moved. Not because it was impressive (it was), but because it was his movements. His exact rhythm. His timing. His tells. Somehow, Kade had studied him, absorbed him, and made this puppet of sunfire that knew him just a little too well.

Across the grass, Kade's fingers danced in the air like a puppeteer’s. The glow in his palms pulsed with every shift of the clone’s weight.

“Imagination aside,” Hanel said quietly. Standing at the fence, “His observation skills must be so high to have Galir’s fighting style memories like that.”

“Isn’t that the most insane thing ever?” Ayen asked, gleefully eating a plum she definitely hadn’t had two minutes ago. “I wonder what Galir would do now, fighting himself.”

“Indeed.”

***

Galir twisted, blade catching the blue clone’s saber in a tight bind. He pressed, expecting it to flicker, glitch, do something to give him an edge.

Nothing.

It was like fighting his own reflection.

No, not like. Worse.

He spun low, swept the leg. The clone jumped. Clean, fast.

Galir gritted his teeth, leapt back, and threw a dagger straight at Kade’s shoulder.

Thunk.

It hit a wall of light and bounced off harmlessly.

Kade flinched.

"Hey! You said duel, not assassination!"

“This is what ‘don't hold back’ means.”

Kade pouted, but the clone advanced again.

****

“He’s pushing him even more than you did.”

Hanel’s tone hadn’t changed, but Ayen turned to look. “Galir?”

Hanel gave a rare nod.

“He’s baiting out mistakes. The clone can match his form, but not instinct. He’s testing whether Kade can keep up. He hadn't started fighting seriously yet.”

****

Galir dropped one blade.

On purpose.

The blue clone reacted a hair too slow, surprised. That was all Galir needed.

He stepped in, caught the wrist of the clone, and drove the hilt of his remaining sword into its side. A shock of resistance hit, solid, but not enough. The body cracked like porcelain, shards of light bursting outward in a flash…

…Then reformed mid-air.

Galir swore and backflipped as a beam of light cut across where his head had been.

Not from the clone.

From Kade.

“Sorry!” Kade called. “I panicked!”

Another burst.

Galir ran.

Through the practice dummies, across the flagstones. The beam scorched behind him, searing the edge of his sleeve. The clone followed, silent as death, its footfalls flickering on the wind.

Galir skidded to a stop, reversed direction, and leapt.

Mid-air, he locked eyes with Kade.

The grin was gone.

This time, Kade was focused.

A dozen birds of light exploded outward from behind him in a spiral. Beaks sharp as knives. Miniature blades of blue light, spinning like chakram, filling the air.

Galir twisted, spun between them as they whistled past, cut one down mid-air and landed…

…right in front of the clone.

They clashed again.

****

Ayen stopped chewing, watching with awe.

“…Is it just me, or is Galir actually smiling?”

Hanel didn't respond.

Because she was right.

****

Galir struck with a new rhythm.

Irregular. Asymmetric.

The clone stuttered, just slightly, but it was enough. Galir caught the clone’s blade on the inside, turned it, drove a knee into the blue ribs, and shattered it with a downward cleave.

Light exploded like a bomb of sparks.

Galir didn’t stop.

He charged Kade.

The boy’s eyes widened.

“Oh, okay, NOW we’re doing this…”

Galir threw his sword. Kade dodged. Barely. A chunk of hair fluttered down.

Galir slammed into him, bladeless, grabbing Kade’s wrist just as a new construct began to form.

Too slow.

He shoved Kade back against the tree trunk, arm across his throat, panting.

“Yield,” Galir said.

Kade blinked. “That was cheating.”

“That’s fighting.”