Knights Apocalyptica

Alexandra led Erec down the halls and outside of the Academy; the entire time, Erec couldn’t help but notice her hand pulling Colin by the wrist. Which he was sure Colin was painfully aware of since he kept trying to tug it away.

Whether or not this fight freed him from her company stopped mattering to Erec as his blood rushed.

This was the chance he wanted, a way to let loose and test his training. Over the last couple of months, Boldwick honed in and tried to prepare him to use only a ‘partial’ amount of Fury.

A half-state that he’d reached before when he burned a little fuel to keep himself going or to deal with confrontation. The inherent problem was it put him in an intoxicating state. In those situations, it was easier to suppress since it was either after a fight or when he'd yet to throw a punch.

The best way Boldwick figured to control it was to increase his Psyche—and practice the skill. Over and over, he brought him to the point of burning a small amount of Fury, then forcing him to stand down.

Since the fight with the Stag, Erec hadn’t passed further than this half-state or tried it in an actual spar.

The pressure of needing to control himself was another one of the chains wrapped around him and dragging him down. That, along with his new title, status, and even now, the lack of Faith. All of the chains set around his ankles, those expectations and responsibilities.

Boldwick hadn’t let him try this half-step in combat since he wasn’t sure how it would end and whether or not all the conditioning would go to waste if Erec slipped the leash.

Or, so he said.

Privately, Erec wondered if it had to do with how Alister died; and how close he’d come to death by relying on Fury. As much as he hated it, Erec couldn’t help but feel that fear too. Some nights he woke up picturing that fight with the Stag, reliving the moment.

Even his mentor saw him as something he wasn’t—he wanted him to control himself. And that should be a good thing, surely.

Yet it felt wrong.

From the second he saw Alexandra’s eyes at the mention of a fight, he saw that same love of battle ring out to how she grinned as they slipped outside to a yard. She hadn’t even bothered to find a quiet place for the fight, opting for a nice open space right by the door to the central Academy. Bold and reckless.

“Good as it gets, right? Bright day.” She gave a couple of practice swings. “Might wanna warm up. Do you ever fight with fists? I imagine it’d be inconvenient to track down practice swords, so I figure this is easier, and you’re a brawler, right? It would be best if you were handy with anything. Ha. Get it, handy?”

Colin immediately covered his mouth. Doing his best to suppress a laugh. It wasn’t a funny joke, but then Colin hadn’t a good sense of humor, to begin with, but it was damn petty that he’d rather she didn’t know she made him laugh.

Whatever.

Erec rolled his shoulders and took in a deep breath, trying to steady himself and prepare for the inevitable mental battle this would bring. “Do you normally act like this? When I saw you at the ceremony, you looked the part of a regal duchess. Now? Not so much.”

“Hmm? My Mother discouraged this sort of thing, but now that I’m out on my own, I’m free to do what I want. I’ve received letters from her complaining about my behavior—but once I stopped caring what she thought, everything has been so much fun. Besides, my dad’s plenty happy with my progress.” She beamed at him, hopping in place. Thrumming with energy as if this fight were the event of a lifetime—like they were competing in a tourney for grand honors and not just beating the shit out of each other outside of the Academy.

Weird girl.

But what if she had the right idea? Her duties had tied her to marrying Colin, of all people, but she didn’t seem stressed or worried. Let alone the thousands of other things that being born to a duchy must’ve levied on her shoulders. She’d found a way to enjoy it. Or so it seemed.

“How are you doing that?” Erec asked, shaking his head as she grinned. “I don’t get how you’re so carefree.”

“It’s easy. It goes something like this—“ She snapped through the air, vanishing. So quick that Erec took a blow to the gut before he knew what happened. Her savageness didn’t stop at a single impact; her knee rose to snap into his chin as he doubled over from the sudden attack.

That hadn’t been natural speed. One second she was there; the second, she was slamming into him. For someone on their level, such a maneuver should’ve been impossible.

[Ouch.]

Erec’s back slammed onto the ground, and she followed through, hopping on him and raining fists down on his face. Unable to think much past defense, Erec covered his weak point with his arms. The temporary defense wouldn’t be enough.

Each hit stung. Her force was unrelenting, and she’d refused to pull back a single bit of it.

Exciting.

Erec saw for a second past his guard. There was a wild grin on her face, her eyes shone with pure delight as she gave away everything to this fight. It was the exact same sort of thing he imagined others saw in him when he let Fury free. When he stopped letting himself be chained away.

If she could do it, why couldn’t he?

That fire inside ignited, burning bright in a pulse of Strength. Her fist spiraled toward him, but his hand snapped forward, catching her by the wrist.

She struggled against him, trying to free her knuckles to deliver another hit, but her Strength failed her. Against him, she was too weak. His vision went red, and a dim level of awareness tore through him.

This was too far. He was rapidly burning up and giving too much to Fury. Cold fire choked off the ignition on instinct. He hesitated.

Unbridled Strength made him a disposable tool to the Fury; it kept him from refining the weapon into his own, but him a weapon of it instead.

Alexandra took advantage of his hesitation. Her free hand pulled back, then sped through the air faster than she should’ve been capable of, tearing into his gut in a sudden acceleration.

Erec’s eyes bulged as his back bounced off the ground. The pain burned away in Fury’s half-state with a delay, but his instinct was to toss this woman off him before she had a chance to land another hit like that. Using his hand still locked on her wrist, he jerked his arm, flinging her away as the fire coursed through his veins.

She didn’t weigh a lot, and an impulse of Strength was plenty enough to fling her. Too far. She slammed into the side of the Academy; the stone thumped as she impacted, then slumped to the ground.

Erec got to his feet; the breeze felt good, and the sky above was still tinted in that lovely shade of red.

Almost like being whole again. But he forced his way away from letting the inferno run loose, finding that balance of letting it burn in bursts. He could resist the impulse to chase her down and finish the fight forever by pulling back. With a groan of pain, his enemy regained her ground, rubbing her head. “Those tales weren’t exaggerated, so this is the Strength that let you kill that Stag?” She asked, stepping away from the side of the building.

Already, their brief scuffle pulled a small audience; people would always gawk, like sheep gathering in a bio-cavern, and once they saw a crowd, more would join. Eventually, if this went on long enough, they’d probably attract an older Knight who’d break the fight up.

But it’d never get that far. Erec pounced, unable to suppress the impulse any longer after letting her get back up.

His fist flew right in line to connect to her jaw—and the girl vanished.

She slipped underneath his elbow, tripping over her legs as she spun around, throwing a wild kick that brushed off Erec’s back.

That movement wasn’t natural. With his full attention on her, she’d shifted places completely. Was it like Soren, then?

[Localized time acceleration. Well, that’s a useful one.]

Of course, VAL clarified. Erec’s eyes narrowed as he followed through and lashed out at the girl. One of his punches sent her reeling back and dodging away from his blows, as she concluded they weren’t easy to brush off. Without that Divine Talent, she’d still have considerable speed and power. A good enemy; she might’ve won against him when he first joined the Academy. But not now.

It’d be over if he weren’t burdened with straddling the edge of the flame, letting his chest fill with fire, yet controlling it with all the restraint he could muster. Each punch would devastate her, but landing those punches was hard when she could speed up. It’d require pure instinct, but relying on that while in this state…

It was impossible.

Let go.

But he couldn’t.

If he freed himself, this fight would end quicker than the girl could react; all it took was to hand the reins back to where they belonged. She wanted to see his Strength after all, didn’t she?

But if he always let go, he’d end up dead again. Not now. But when it mattered.

She swayed in place, adapting to his fighting style, occasional bursts of movement as she activated her talent. The unpredictable nature of it made it impossible to react to in the split seconds she used it. Impossible to respond to unless he gave away control to Fury. To react on pure instinct.

Do it. Let go.

Erec’s hand shook as the fire inside screamed at him to burst; it was so close to eruption, to be free and wild. Damn Boldwick for trying to control him—damn this whole school for forcing him down and making him practice fucking court speech. It could all burn away in the pyre of his hate.

Alexandra’s smile was bright; despite the bruises on her face. The pure thrill of the moment taunted him; his anger was pure and unrelenting that he couldn’t be free in the same way. Couldn’t enjoy this fight as she did.

She snapped forward, a blow to his skull that brought black spots.

Erec backpedaled, his breath catching as another punch hit his gut.

He slapped her away with a backhand, and she flew. But a second later, she returned to her feet, charging him and demanding more.

He tore himself apart inside, that cold fire confused even as it suppressed the anger and refused to let himself explode. He couldn’t be like her. Not anymore.

“Stop.” Boldwick’s voice rang through the gathered crowd; Erec paused, a hand gripping her ankle as he hesitated from tossing her away like a plaything. She yanked her foot away as it became clear the fight was over.

“Shame, but thanks for the fun!” Alexandra gave a thumbs up; before turning her attention to Boldwick as the Master Knight strode up to them.

Boldwick gave one annoyed glance at the students gathered around. “Clear out, nothing to see; go do something more productive.” They began to disperse with great reluctance, but that was enough to dismiss them from Boldwick’s attention as he frowned at Erec. “You used Fury? What had I told you?”

Erec hung his head; the embers still burned inside, but it was easier now. Easier to let them die and fade. He hadn’t given over to it. As much as he burned inside to give it everything, he’d held back. “I did.” And now, even though, by all metrics, his desire to test the results of their training proved it to be successful, it felt wrong. It felt like he’d been left with a scratch he couldn’t itch—that a hole remained in him.

“Well.” Boldwick scratched at his chin. “Guess it was about due to test anyway, and you kept your composure. Or so it appeared… Follow me to my office. I just got done speaking to your Courtly Mannerisms instructor—you can tell me how it went, and then we can talk about your class.”

Boldwick left, expecting Erec to follow hot on his heels. Erec looked at Alexandra and Colin—who had already slipped into an argument over whether or not the wager was still valid.

They seemed… Lively together. Not happy, but. It was something.

With a hole in his stomach, Erec followed after his mentor. Not quite sure what was missing.

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