Littleroot Versus Darkwell

“Uh… Nora? What’s with that expression?” Lucas asks.

“This is bad, guys… like, really bad. I think…”

…

“I’m starting to enjoy fighting.”

I can’t help but giggle with a big old grin.

As much as I hate hurting people… these fights, they’re like these incredible puzzles. They’re so dynamic, and you’re always juggling so many problems at once, and when you win, you can feel yourself getting better equipped to solve the next one. Not to mention I get to solve them together with Pudding—sometimes my friends too—bringing us even closer. It’s just so much fun!

“I think you, uh, got a bit of drool on your lip there, Nora.” Jane remarks.

“Oh goddess.” Lucas buries his face in his hands. “I don’t think I can handle two Petras.”

“Yes, yes!” Petra puts her arm around my shoulder and gestures dramatically. “Come to the dark side, my child. Embrace your inner warrior.”

“Well, I don’t think you’ll be enjoying fighting for long, Nora,” Lucas cuts in.

Petra pulls back. “Oh, yeah, you’re totally screwed.”

“What?! Why?!”

Lucas frowns. “The guy you’re going up against is the first-year closest to becoming our next 4th Order summoner. And frankly, even that undersells him. While he’s not as skilled as Arthur or Nettle overall, when it comes specifically to dueling other summoners, he’s likely far stronger than either of them.”

“How is that even possible?!”

“That’s the thing—nobody knows. His duels end so quickly he’s been able to keep his abilities under wraps. All we know is his opponents freeze up, vanish in smoke, and then the match is over. The only thing they remember afterward is some vague, painful nightmare. It’s why people stopped challenging him, and why both his opponents surrendered before their matches in the first two rounds of the tournament.

“I… I’m really worried about you, Nora. Please promise me you’ll surrender if things get too rough.”

“...Alright, Lucas. I promise.”

***

“—Versus!”

I let out a deep breath and open my eyes, looking across the stadium at my opponent.

“Damian Darkwell!”

He’s tall, with dark eyes, well-proportioned features, and black hair fashioned into a bowl cut. He wears lightweight black leather armor beneath a matching cape and wields two zigzagging blades. He doesn’t seem particularly intimidating at first.

That is… until he opens his mouth.

“You must not know the drill.” He flashes an arrogant grin. “I believe this is the part where you surrender and save yourself from any unnecessary suffering.”

I clench my fists. “Y-you don’t scare me! Convincing people to surrender so you don’t have to fight? You sound like a real c-coward!”

His eye twitches.

“I don’t care what dirty tricks you fight with! It’s time someone put you in your—”

The words catch in my throat.

A malevolent presence materializes beside him.

I can just barely make out its mostly transparent body—a black wraith draped in tattered cloth. It carries a zigzagging blade like Damian’s, but with vicious serrated edges. A jagged, eerie knight’s helmet covers its head.

My blood runs cold.

I’ve never… ever… felt this way about a monster before.

Every fiber of my being is screaming at me to run away from this monstrosity.

“You sure?” Black fog begins curling around Damian and his summon. “Last chance.”

“Start the match!” I shout, my voice trembling. I draw my wand, ready to blast Damian the second he gets near me.

“Let the match… begin—”

“—Shadowstep.”

“Gggkh!”

A cold blade plunges through my stomach from behind as black fog engulfs me.

“Knightmere Magic: Silence.”

He twists the blade, and I’m racked with excruciating pain unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Tears rush down my face as I wail in agony—but nothing comes out…

My voice is gone.

“Knightmere Magic: Miasma.”

Black vapor billows out around us, and I feel my physical strength draining. He knocks my wand out of my hand. My eyes follow it as it hits the ground near Pudding, pinned down beneath his summon’s blade.

Damian grabs my face and jerks it toward him.

“Aw, does it hurt? I did warn you, didn’t I?”

He shrugs. “I suppose that’s just the price of disrespect.” He smirks. “Of course, you could always surrend—oh, wait! You can’t talk now, can you? That’s a real shame, I reckon we could keep at this whole stabby business for quite a while before you pass out.”

He starts to laugh. “How about this? You get on your knees and beg, and maybe—just maybe—if you’re sincere enough, I’ll forgive you. Unless of course, you still want to fight?” He cackles. “Oh, I’m sorry, what am I thinking? A mage without their voice or wand—”

***

“And the winner is… Nora Littleroot—in record time!”

The crowd chatters in confusion.

I look back at Damian, slumped against the arena wall, eyes blank and jaw hanging open. After smashing a pillar of earth into his private area with maximum force, I unleashed an explosion of wind magic that sent him flying head-first into the wall, knocking him out on impact.

I gaze down at my—

…

Wow, that’s… that’s a lot of bloo—

***

I slowly open my eyes to find myself lying in the infirmary. As I sit up, a sharp pain jolts through my stomach and I let out a groan.

Petra, sitting in a chair nearby, startles awake. She stares at me for a moment, teary-eyed, before leaping out of her chair to hug me.

Before I can respond, I’m hit from the other side by Lucas and Jane.

Wow, normally I’m the one giving out all the hugs—I must have really worried them.

I wrap my arms around them. “Free hugs? Maybe I need to get stabbed more often.”

“That’s not funny, Nora.” Jane mumbles, her face buried in my robes.

“Oh, you guys are overreacting. I’m totally fine,” I reassure them.

Petra nuzzles my face. “Then you’re even more of a badass than I thought you were, Nora.”

Lucas pulls back and grabs my hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “Nora… you don’t need to put on a strong front for us. Are you really sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah! I’m—

“I’m…”

…

I burst into tears and throw my arms around Lucas. “No. I’m not okay,” I sniffle. “I was so scared. It all hurt so much. I thought I was gonna die.”

“Nora…” Lucas holds me tight. “I’m so sorry.”

I bury my face in his shoulder and let myself cry.

“Do you think…you’d be okay with telling us what happened? All any of us saw was you disappear into some kind of dark fog. Then, not even a minute later, Damian went flying into a wall and you were on the ground bleeding out.”

I pull back and nod, trying to calm myself. “Mhm.” I sniffle and wipe my eyes, tears still flowing, though more gently now.

Over the next several minutes I recount everything I went through in detail. It truly was horrible, and it hurts to replay, but watching my friends listen with such empathy helps soothe the pain. It reminds me how lucky I am to have such wonderful friends in my life now.

I turn to Lucas. “You mentioned earlier that the people he duels never remember what happened to them… you think maybe that’s a result of monster magic? And maybe the reason I’m the first to remember is because he lost before he could use it on me?”

“I reckon that’s a pretty good bet,” Vincent remarks as he walks through the doorway, Coldheart and Vivian following behind him.

“Vincent! And, uh, company?”

Coldheart huffs while Vivian gives me a small wave.

“Hey, kiddo.” He pulls up a seat and pats my leg. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but we saw you and your friends were having, uh, a moment—and we didn’t want to interrupt.”

Petra tenses up and puffs out her chest. “We weren’t—who says we were having a moment?”

“I’d find the tough-girl act a little more convincing if you didn’t have snot running down your face.”

Petra’s face lights up bright red and she sputters. Unable to come up with a retort, she hastily grabs her seldom-worn helmet and hides inside it.

Well, at least she’s finally getting some use out of it.

“Um, Vincent, I’m glad to see you and all, but, um—” I turn anxiously to Coldheart.

“Miss Coldheart, please, I don’t know how much you heard, but the other students—the school—we need to tell them that—”

“You don’t need to worry about that,” she replies. “I’ll make sure a full investigation is carried out and that Damian is punished for any misconduct.”

Vivian chuckles. “Based on the rumors that were coming out of the operating room, whatever the punishment is, it probably pales in comparison to what Nora did to the poor kid’s jewels.”

I tilt my head, confused. “Jewels? What does that—”

Coldheart clears her throat. “Whether he remains at the academy or not, he’ll be put under strict watch, and whatever memory-altering magic he’s been using will be added to the kingdom’s list of forbidden magic.”

“If you need me to, I can—urk!” I get a little too worked up and wince in pain, clutching my stomach.

“We’ll handle it,” she reassures me. “This is a matter for adults. The only thing you kids should be concerned with is further honing your abilities as summoners. I’m truly sorry this happened to you, Nora. You didn’t deserve to be put through something like this. It’s completely unacceptable, and I promise you, the academy will rectify this.”

Tears start streaming down my face again.

“What’s wrong?!” she asks. “Did your wound open up?!”

“No, it’s just… you finally called me Nora.”

Coldheart blushes. “You’re a real pain in my ass, Littleroot! You know that?!”

“Come to think of it, Celeste…” Vivian turns. “You didn’t snap at her at all for calling you Coldheart. Why does Nora get special treatment?”

Coldheart closes her eyes and grinds her teeth, grimacing as her face fills with pink.

Vincent turns to Vivian. “You think that’s crazy? Nora’s told me multiple times that Celeste is secretly nice now.”

“No—” Vivian’s head pivots back to Coldheart. “Who are you and what have you done with our Celeste?”

Coldheart, her face now burning bright red, shouts, “Screw all of you! I’m sorry I came!” and storms out.

Vincent turns back to me. “You should have seen the look on her face after your match—she was so worried about you—”

“I WAS NOT!” Coldheart shouts from the hallway.

“Well, anyway, I just came to check in on you. There are no more matches until tomorrow, so you have plenty of time to rest up if you’d like—but if you want to drop out after what you just went through, I don’t think anybody would blame you.”

I shake my head. “I want to keep on fighting. I still have to win, no matter what.”

Vivian steps forward. “Well in that case, if everybody wouldn’t mind giving us the room, I’d like to go ahead and fix your uniform. The backup too. I’d imagine they’ve both gotten pretty roughed up. Might even make a couple alternations while I’m at it. I’d like to swap out the buckle on your satchel for a snap fastener too—so it’s less of a hassle to open and close it in the middle of a fight.”

“Okay!” I smile. “How much do I pay you?”

“Cute.” she chuckles.

“Actually—” Vincent interrupts. “She honestly might be making more than I am at this point.”

Vivian tilts her head. “Come again?”

“The, uh, monster notes thing I mentioned to you. The academy’s been paying her for them.”

“Well I’ll be.” She turns back to me. “Regardless, consider it an investment in a promising future customer.”

“...But I can pay you now,” I point out.

“It’s, uh, an investment.”

Vivian’s got a guilty look written all over her face.

I squint. “What’s the catch—”

“Alright, chop chop!” She claps. “Everyone out, lots of work to do.”

They exchange confused looks at first, but get up and say their goodbyes to me before leaving the room.

Vivian closes the door behind them, sits back down, and leans in to whisper “You aren’t backstabbing me now, are you, Nora? You become Celeste’s student, and suddenly she’s made more progress with Vincent in the last couple months than she’s made in a decade.”

“I’m sorry, Vivian. I wasn’t trying to hurt your chances, I was just trying to help her loosen up. I know it’s probably making things harder for you, but… I think it’s been really good for her.”

She closes her eyes and crosses her arms. “Can’t disagree with you there…” She sighs and looks off to the side. “I guess if it’s for Celeste’s sake…”

She flashes a sly smirk and shoots me a winks. “I can learn to share.”

Heat rushes to my face as I gasp, covering my mouth. “Scandalous!”

“Now come on, goofball. Let’s get your stuff all patched up for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow, huh? Let’s hope things go better than they went today. Each match has been so much harder than the last, I can’t even imagine how difficult my next one will be.