Chapter 15: Aspect
A few matches passed after Cecilia's defeat.
The energy in the training grounds had shifted.
When there had once been excitement and noise, there was something quieter. People were watching with less interest.
Blake's display had done more than impress. It had set a standard.
Most realized that they wouldn't see anything remotely close to it in the upcoming matches.
Dolin stood near the edge of one of the platforms, arms loosely at his sides, watching as another match concluded with a dull thud. A boy hit the ground, breath knocked out of him, while his opponent stepped back.
"Next."
Jaren stepped forward, causing Dolin's attention to sharpen.
He had already seen the results of Jaren's strength test, but that alone didn't say everything.
Jaren picked up a practice sword, rolling his shoulders as he stepped into the ring.
Across from him stood a lean boy with a tight stance, guard high and feet steady.
"Begin."
The opponent struck first.
A quick thrust.
Jaren moved, or rather… he burst.
For a split second, his body surged with unnatural speed, covering the distance quickly. It wasn't a flickering teleportation-like ability like Blake's.
It was an acceleration.
It was sudden, and was controlled.
His blade knocked the incoming strike aside, and before the other boy could even react, a second burst.
He was already at his side, swinging down in an arc.
The hit landed cleanly.
Jaren didn't give him time to recover.
From behind this time, a light strike to the back. He was not ruthless like Blake, and only subdued the opponent.
"Match over."
Murmurs followed.
"Such speed…"
Dolin narrowed his eyes slightly.
It's explosive. No wonder Jaren scored so high on the strength test.
Jaren stepped out casually, barely winded.
Second match.
This time, his opponent was more cautious, causing them to circle longer.
They probed each other, waiting for an opening.
Then Jaren moved again, this time to retreat.
He wasn't using it to attack, he was adjusting his position.
Through this distance control, it forced mistakes.
The opponent tried to predict it, but he failed.
An opening came, with Jaren slipping in with another burst and striking cleanly across the torso.
The boy dropped his weapon, letting out a grunt.
"I yield."
Jaren stepped out, catching Dolin's gaze.
A grin creeped up his face and then he pointed his sword towards Dolin.
He then mouthed the words "it's your turn".
Yeah. I'm fucked.
Well, there was no avoiding it now.
Dolin stepped forward.
His wounds from before his nightmare were all but scars now, seemingly fully healed.
Jaren was already there, spinning his sword lazily in his hand.
They faced each other.
"Try not to go easy on me," Jaren said.
Dolin adjusted his grip.
"I won't"
"Begin."
Jaren moved first.
Burst!
Dolin barely raised his blade in time—
Clang!
The impact rattled throughout his arms.
Fast. Too fast.
He had barely seen the attack coming, and just the impact had rattled his arms, causing pain to shoot through them.
Jaren did not stop.
Unrelenting.
He swung again and again.
Dolin shifted, redirecting one of his strikes, stepping back to create space.
But it wasn't enough.
Another crashing burst came forward, smashing right into Dolin.
CLANG!
Dolin was pushed back, his arms hurting even more from the impact.
He steadied his breathing, ignoring the pain.
Jaren circled again.
Dolin reacted.
This time, instead of taking on the impact, he deflected the blow.
Jaren's eyebrows lifted slightly.
"Oh?"
He came again.
Dolin shifted his footing, letting his outskirts footwork truly shine.
A second burst came, just missing his shoulder.
Dolin grimaced, stepping back.
Damn it.
He couldn't even make a counterattack. The whole fight was just defense.
Crowd murmurs rose.
"He's keeping up… kind of."
"Not for long."
Dolin ignored them.
Focus.
Jaren's ability. It was too random. It wasn't a straight burst. It could change angles and was extremely fast.
He had to catch it… and fast.
Jaren came again.
This time, Dolin struck before he even saw him coming.
Their blades met, locking in place.
It worked.
But began to falter.
Strike after strike. Angle after angle.
Dolin's defense held, but just barely.
Each block would now come a fraction later than it should have.
His movement grew heavier. He wasn't going to last much longer.
Jaren noticed it.
Of course he did.
Jaren shifted his stance. Lower, and more focused.
He burst forward, but suddenly stopped midway.
A FEINT!
Dolin didn't bite.
Then, the real movement came.
Faster.
Dolin blocked, but his footing slipped slightly.
That was enough. Jaren moved again.
Dolin turned.
Not good.
He was nearing the edge of the ring. Cornered.
Jaren didn't burst forward this time. Instead, he walked.
"You're holding up better than I expected," he said.
Dolin didn't respond, tightening his grip.
He was cornered. Jaren moved.
Dolin raised his guard. But it was another feint.
Jaren shifted mid-motion.
It was too fast to fully react.
This is it.
Dolin knew.
He had no time, no space, no way to match it.
So instead, on the brink of defeat. He reached out.
His hand shot forward—
And grabbed Jaren's wrist.
Contact.
For a split second—
Everything felt different.
He felt something inside him change, as if activating something dormant from within.
Nothing changed. A flurry of emotions came upon Dolin.
They were foreign, as if not his. They were ones of surprise, confidence, and eagerness.
But then, a new emotion came out, as if being pulled out from the depths. This emotion was not his either, it was as if Dolin was just a witness, shining light on these emotions.
For a split second—
Everything felt… different.
Not slower, not faster.
Just—
Uncertain.
Jaren's movement faltered, as if being overcome with some inexplicable emotion.
It was a fraction.
His strike hesitated.
Like something interrupted his train of thought.
Dolin's eyes widened slightly.
What—
He didn't think.
He moved, making a counterstrike.
But it wasn't fast enough.
Jaren recovered, quickly with a sharp gaze.
His expression flickered with surprise, and then became sharp as if suppressing something from within.
He pulled back instantly.
Dolin's chance was gone.
"...what was that?" Jaren muttered.
Dolin wasn't sure.
But he felt it.
That hesitation…
I did that.
Jaren exhaled once. Then smiled… this time, sharper.
"Alright. Time to finish this."
He moved, even faster than before.
Dolin tried to react, but something changed with Jaren's strike.
It was as if Jaren's body wasn't the only thing accelerating, but his sword as well.
The strike rang out like a bolt of thunder.
His weapon was knocked from his hand.
Before he could recover—
Whoosh.
A sword cut through the air, appearing right at his neck.
He had lost.
"Match over."
The crowd cheered.
"That was a good match!"
"Not really, but he almost had something there."
Dolin barely heard them.
Jaren approached him, offering a hand up.
Dolin accepted it, standing.
"Did I, though?"
Jaren shrugged.
"For a second… yeah. Something felt off." Jaren's expression seemed to turn dark, as if being clouded in a fog.
Dolin said nothing.
His mind was elsewhere.
It wasn't strength or speed, and certainly wasn't luck.
That hesitation…
It wasn't an accident.
He looked down at his hand again.
Puppeteer. Doubt Manifestation.
The words surfaced in his mind. He was sure of it. It had been his aspect.
It wasn't control, well not yet.
It was interference.
Doubt.
A crack in certainty.
Dolin exhaled slowly.
"...so that's it."
It wasn't great power, or force, but something far more subtle.
And perhaps more dangerous.