Enemy

Ren was boiling. The bombarding rays of the raging sun held no restraint, doing their best to fry him alive underneath his long sleeve attire. The sweat running down his hooded face reminded him of the countless hours he spent digging up dirt and laboring around stone.

He shot up his arm instinctively, deflecting yet another blast from his opponent ahead. As Kitan drew himself back into a fighting stance, Ren couldn’t help but take his mind off the fight for a moment to glance at his waist. Even though they had been sparring for about an hour, Kitan never unsheathed his sword. It was like that yesterday as well.

Pushing the thought from his mind, Ren raced forward, deftly sidestepping Kitan’s projectiles. He drove close to interrupt another barrage of attacks, causing a scowl to grow on his opponent’s face. Kitan threw his hands up in a panic, but Ren had closed the gap. Shooting a hand underneath, he grabbed a part of Kitan’s tunic and threw him over his shoulder, creating a small dust cloud on impact.

“Kch,” Kitan coughed, “again!”

“Just give it up already Kitan.” Inila sighed, sitting on the side of the training grounds that they had borrowed from one of the organizers of the dueling ring. “You’ve had like four tries, you’re not going to beat him.”

“Have some respect fer the deal you made, Kitan. W’ever you promised him, just give it to him already,” Shalka called out, his arms draped over the railing he was leaning on. His words were slurring into each other, probably due to a lack of sleep.

“Why do you not use your sword?” Ren’s curiosity got the better of him as he walked toward his fallen opponent. It seemed odd that he would carry a weapon without any intention to use it. Kitan’s expression soured at the mention and balled up a fist. He pushed himself up, kicking up some dirt.

“That’s your business as much as your hood is my business,” he practically spat, before stomping to the other end of the training grounds to grab some water.

Must be a touchy subject. He turned around as he heard a yawn behind him, to find Shalka walking over. Inila had stayed behind, her hands resting on the grass behind her back with a portrait of boredom painted on her face.

“Sorry about that,” Shalka lazily smiled, “he’s not keen on talking when it comes to his sword. What was his promise to you? Maybe I can fulfill it in his place so you can go on your way.”

Ren tilted his head slightly. When it came to figuring out the different students, at least from a surface level, Shalka was definitely the hardest to pin down. Kitan and Inila both had distinct personality traits, but he was hesitant to say anything about Shalka. His lazy demeanor didn’t leave much to the imagination, but Ren could swear that he had caught a strange glint from his eyes at least twice. “I want information about a woman named Ashila. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Ashila, the researcher? I think I’ve of that name,” Shalka pulled up a hand to scratch his head, “if I’m remembering correctly, she should be heading toward the central cities. The capital, Fossno, might know something. But if I were you, I’d hold off on traveling there for now. Even though the war’s been officially over for over 10 years, their walls and armies are still highly active.”

A grimace flashed across Ren’s face. He hoped that he’d be able to avoid the central cities. After all, it was too close to danger, especially for something like him.

“Alright, deal’s the deal,” Kitan said as he came back over, “here’s what I know about-”

“It’s fine, Kitan. I got it.” Shalka waved him off. The fire user raised an eyebrow and lingered for a bit, but didn’t question it, something that Ren didn’t let escape his mind. Regardless, he didn’t bring it up.

“I have one more thing to ask then. Do you guys know anything about the vice commander of the central magic forces?” This had been bothering Ren since he heard it from the barkeep.

“That guy? Why would you want to know about him?” Kitan took another swing of his water.

“Ah, he’s gotten real popular, hasn’t he? Everyone’s been questioning the authenticity of the story of him taming a tornado,” Shalka mirthlessly chuckled, “and yeah, it’s most likely true. We’ve only met him once, but the control of his wind magic, even Inila’s pales in comparison.”

“I wouldn’t mess with him. Gives me the creeps,” Kitan glanced away in apprehension.

Everyone’s attention turned suddenly, when a loud crack popped through the air, followed by an audible thud that shook the ground slightly. A cloud of dust started to rise in the far distance.

“How much you wanna bet that’s Chyro?” Inila shouted.

“Are you kidding me? How many people do you know can cause a semi-earthquake?” Kitan gestured for her to come over. “Of course that’s him, let’s go!”

They ran off in a sprint toward the incident. Shalka turned to the hooded boy. “You aren’t coming?” he asked.

Ren shook his head. “This seems like something I don’t need to be a part of. I appreciate the information, but I don’t want to impose any longer.”

“Whatever suits you,” he shrugged, running off after the other two students.

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“So, you lied?” Inila asked as they slowed down to a jog to let Shalka catch up.

“You overheard?” Shalka raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head and pointed to her eyes. “Lip reading.”

“Hmph, figures. Of course, I lied. You know the sensitive position she’s in right now. Jederico would beat us within an inch of our life if he found out we just let that kind of information go.” Shalka swerved to dodge a cart. “Something you weren’t thinking about Kitan.”

“Hey, I was thinking about it!” Kitan shouted back, “I was just planning on letting our teacher deal with it. I don’t know what the whole deal is between them, but I figured that if anyone wanted to figure out where she was, he’d want to know about it. But of course, he didn’t come back the day I thought he was going to.”

“That wasn’t the only reason though, was it Shalka?” Inila glanced back.

Inila was good at picking up his thoughts. “No, it wasn’t. I assume that you guys didn’t notice, but that guy, he can use magic. He just doesn’t for some reason.”

“What? Really? Are you sure Shalka?” Kitan asked as he stepped around some merchants.

“I’m fairly certain. Looking at how he moved during both of your fights, he could tell when both of you were channeling your mana. He made sure to avoid your hands”—he pointed to Inila—“and was able to tell when you shot off your fire blasts.” He pointed at Kitan. “Even when people find out about our magic, they usually slip up at some point. But everything he did looked like second nature to him.”

“And part of me thinks, with his background of magic, and his determination to hide his skin and face, there’s a possibility he may be a dark elf. It’s just speculation, but if it’s true and he finds Ms. Ashila-”

“It would be the worst possible outcome,” Inila surmised, “regardless, we’re going to have to put this conversation on hold for now.”

She was right. They were finally at the source of the loud explosion, to find their fellow student and a central forces officer engaged in combat with a crowd surrounding them. A headache started to throb in Shalka's head as he laid his eyes upon all the destruction of public property.

“Ah, shit,” Kitan grit his teeth, preparing to separate the two, “of course it had to be someone from central.” He jumped in and tackled Chyro. He struggled to hold the bigger, dark-skinned man back but managed until Inila came up behind him to restrain his arms. “And you told me not to make any trouble during our stay.”

“Get the hell off me you two!” Chryo’s deep voice filled the air. “I’m not done with this bastard yet.”

“Shalka.” The central officer calmly walked over. Dust covered his face and clothes, but he was otherwise uninjured. “So, you were also in the city. I still see you’re still fraternizing with the enemy.”

“Raika,” he addressed back, “he’s not an enemy. If you’ve forgotten, I’ll remind you. The war ended a long time ago.”

“And yet I’m still on the front lines.”

Chryo opened his mouth, but Inila spoke up before he could say anything. “Don’t Chyro. It’s not worth it to waste words on someone like him.”

“We’re just here to collect our fellow student. Send the property damage bills our way, I’m sure you know where to find us.” Shalka gestured for the others to leave. Chyro shook off his restraints and walked away with a look that could kill someone. Shalka could sympathize, but handling things this way was out of the question. As he was about to follow Inila and Kitan, who had chased after Chyro, Raika shot a question at him.

“You aren’t living at home either?”

Shalka stopped for a moment but didn’t turn around.

“I guess that’s all the answer I need.” Raika joylessly smiled.