***– Val
The medical clinic was a tomb of white linen and the smell of sterile herbs. By the time Val opened her eyes, the cot beside her was cold. Empty. Cale had left.
She sat up. Her muscles weren't just aching as she had expected; they felt like they'd been shredded and stitched back together poorly.
The healers said she was "fine." Reason being: No charred skin. No blackened lungs. They theorized she had some sort of healing ability in addition to those crazy flames. Her head still pulsed with the memory of the fire. Every beat of her blood felt like a lick of flame against raw bone.
The system screen shimmered into existence. It was taunting her.
```
User: Valerie
Rank: B
Aspect: Flamebound In Light
Flaw: Eternal Flames of Pain
```
Nothing had changed. The system decided to show her her greatest weakness. And now the secret was out. One other person knew the agony behind her power.
She stood up. The stone floor was icy against her bare feet. The silence of the wing was oppressive, broken only by the rhythmic tap of her own footsteps as she headed for the exit.
A shadow cut across the light in the doorway.
It was Vorian.
What the hell did the pompous brat want from her?
She studied him. He leaned against the frame, his arms crossed, that effortless, arrogant smile plastered on his face.
"You're getting popular."
Val stopped. She had to tread carefully.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"Straight to the point. I like that." He pushed off the wood and sauntered toward her. "I'm starting to like you, you know. I watched the match. Your berserk thing? The crowd loved it. The judges were basically drooling. Everyone wants a piece of that raw, ugly power."
"It's not power. It's just something I happened to know how to use."
"Same thing from the stands." Vorian stopped. His eyes were now tracing her like a prize horse.
"Your team is dead weight. They're going to get eliminated and you know it. But luckily for you, the committee is playing favorites. They're still allowing recruitment from the losers. And frankly, I want you on my squad. We're going to the finals, you know that, right? With you, it's a guaranteed win."
"Why do you want me?"
"Because, I think you're a landmine, Valerie. I'd rather plant you in someone else's yard than step on you myself." He grinned, showing too many well-proportioned teeth. "Think about it. We'd still win with or without you. So it's better for you if you join me. You have until tomorrow."
He turned and left. The hallway felt smaller after he was gone.
The arrogant brat. Who the hell did he think he was? But his logic made sense. She had to make a name for herself, and it seemed his proposition was a crucial step.
She found Cale in the training yard at dusk. The sky was the color of a fresh bruise. He was alone, his movements stiff. The sword in his hand was moving with a desperate, clumsy rhythm. His injured arm was a liability, but he was swinging anyway.
"Vorian asked me to join his team," she said.
The blade stopped. He didn't turn at first. When he eventually did, his face was a mask of cold indifference.
"What did you say?"
"I told him I'd think about it."
"So you're considering it." It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.
"He can win, Cale. With me, he said he would win." She crossed her arms, trying to keep her hands from shaking. "Think about the resources. The recognition I would get. That's a real seat at the table. No more being the 'reject' one."
"And us?"
"What 'us'?" The words were out before she could stop them. They were sharp and mean. "You're hurt. You're out of the bracket. I'm not saying yes yet, I'm saying I have a choice to make."
Cale was silent. The only sound was the wind whistling through the scorched training dummies. Finally, he gave a short, sharp nod and shrugged.
"Do what you think is right."
She wanted him to shout. To tell her it was a betrayal. But he just turned back to the dummy. The sword cut the air again, lonely and stubborn.
She walked away. Her chest felt like it was full of hot lead.
***– Cale
The news came through Riker.
"Val joined Vorian's team," Riker muttered. He sat on a bench, staring at his bandaged shoulder as if it were a stranger's limb. "They're a lock for the finals now."
Cale nodded. He didn't look up from the whetstone in his hand. He'd known. He'd seen the way she looked at the trophy like it was a life raft. He couldn't blame her; he would have done the same himself, or even worse.
"So that's it," Riker said. "We're officially spectators. We'll watch from the cheap seats while she wins with the guys who used to laugh at us."
Cale didn't answer. He watched the shadows grow long across the yard. He thought about Val's fire. Vorian's smug face. The cold, calculating eyes of the nobles who thought they'd already decided the ending of this story.
He heard a soft knock at midnight.
Cale opened the door begrudgingly, angry for being woken at this time of night. The door opened to a girl still in her Koinos uniform. She had dark hair, and eyes that looked like they hadn't seen sleep in a week. They were tired, but sharp.
"You're Cale, right?"
"Yeah, that's what I'm called."
"My team. We're a scrap-heap squad. The committee joined us together from the leftovers. There are four of us. We need a fifth member." She leaned against the doorframe, exhausted. "You're the last one left with enough skill who isn't already wearing a noble's colors."
Cale stared at her. Sizing up his options, he decided to ask: "You want a Rank E on your team."
"We want to win the semi-final so we can get to Vorian." She shrugged. "Everyone on the team wants to see them fall. And we want to be the ones to do it. Are you in, or are you busy feeling sorry for yourself?"
"Who's the opponent?"
"A guy named Shel. He's mid-tier Aethel. Arrogant as hell, but he's beatable if we aren't stupid. And that's where you come in. You seem to find the smallest and craziest of openings, plus you're stubborn."
Cale thought about Valerie. He thought about her standing across the ring, draped in Vorian's purple battle suit. He thought about his Penalty clogging his veins. This was it. This was probably the task.
He reached out and took her hand. His grip was cold and firm.
"I'm in."
The night was a fever dream.
Val sat in the velvet-lined quarters of Vorian's Team. It reeked of luxury and status. She should have been relieved, but she couldn't hear the strategy meetings over the sound of her own heartbeat. She kept seeing Cale's face. The way he hadn't fought for her. The way he'd just let her go that easily.
Across the campus, Cale stood in the mud of their low-tier training yard. Mira, the girl from the team and the other three remaining team mates watched him, their faces etched with skepticism.
"So you're E Rank," one of them spat.
"Yeah."
"And you think you can help us take down Shel? And then Vorian?"
"I don't think I can help," Cale said. They gasped. "I know that I'll put all I can into it, and I think I can win. Though the chances are quite slim."
The bracket updated at midnight. The screens across the academy updated in real time with new names.
```
Semifinal Match: Mira and co. vs. Shel and co.
Semifinal Match: Vorian and co. vs. Cumen and co.
```
Val stared at the blue light of the screen. Her stomach twisted. She was one victory away from facing one of the few people she could call a friend.
Cale stood by his window, watching the lights of Veridian. His jaw was set.
They were on opposite sides of the line now. And the only way forward was through each other.