by Andrew Rowe
I blinked, processing. “I’m not…oh. You mean Selys-Lyann?” I gestured at the sword at my waist.
Keras walked forward, causing me to tense. If he noted my discomfort, he gave no sign. “Is that what you’re calling it? I can sense a sacred sword from there. Or…a piece of one, anyway. Ah. It’s got a fragment of Flowbreaker in it, I think.”
Mentally, I chastised the actual Keras for not immediately volunteering that same information when we’d met. I don’t know if it would have actually been useful, but it would have been really nice to know a little sooner. “That’s what I’ve heard, but I haven’t seen any other pieces, so I don’t know if it’s true. Similar properties, though. Can you stop walking closer?”
He froze in place, looking mildly surprised, then lifted his open hands. “Ah, sure. Sorry, don’t mean you any harm. Assuming you don’t plan to stop me?”
“I, uh, can’t let you through here. But if you’re looking for the crystal, there’s one over near the entrance…?”
Keras shook his head. “No, the one I’m looking for is in the room behind you.”
“I…” I paused, debating saying something about non-linear rooms and teleporters, but I discarded it. “I can’t let you go through, sorry.”
“Why?” He raised an eyebrow. “My understanding is that more than one person can claim the rewards, and if you’ve already been back there…”
“My test is to stop other people from reaching the crystal.” It was a gamble, but if this Keras was like the real Keras, then…
Keras laughed. “Oh, that’s perfect. Explains a lot, actually. Okay. How are we doing this?”
“Doing…?” My shoulders sank. “You want me to fight you?”
“Obviously. What were you expecting?”
I winced. “Could I perhaps interest you in a nice game of Crowns? Or maybe we could decide things over a children’s card game?”
“Amusing, but no. This is a little too important for me to gamble it on things like that. Maybe if you knew the stakes, you’d be willing to just step aside?”
I shook my head. “It…doesn’t actually matter. You’re not getting the reward you’re looking for even if you beat me.”
“Oh? Some other sort of trap or trick? I can beat it, I assure you.”
I felt a pang of sadness when I heard his determination. “There are some battles that can’t be won, regardless of how strong you are.”
Keras gave me a smirk. “Winning impossible battles is kind of what I do. I’m Keras Selyrian.”
I winced. “Actually…about that. No, you’re not.”
He stared at me for a moment. “Okay, that’s the weirdest thing someone has told me in a while. Gonna need you to back up and explain that one.”
“You’re not the real Keras. You’re a copy made by the crystal as a part of my challenge. You can’t win because you’re not competing. If it’s any consolation, I think the real Keras already finished this test.”
He was silent for a long while.
Then, he lifted his hand, staring at it. “Resh. This isn’t the right kind of aura. It’s similar enough that I didn’t notice immediately, but…”
I knew what he was talking about. “…And I’m guessing Dawn has been very quiet?”
“She’s probably sleeping, or…” He frowned, glancing down. “…Or, no. Not real. She’s not real. I’m not real.”
Something changed in his expression, then. As his head turned back upward, his jaw clenched, and he stared past me.
Then his hand slowly drifted down to the hilt at his left side, and he said, “Get out of my way.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I saw the expression in his eyes, and I felt pressure building in the air. “I can’t do that. I—”
Keras flickered forward.
I reacted as fast as I could, dancing backward, but he wasn’t going for me. He’d reached the other side of the room in an eyeblink, and he was reaching for the door.
“No!” I hurled a blast of transference mana at him from behind. It crashed into him cleanly, but the impact didn’t phase him in the slightest. He did, however, turn back toward me.
“Oh, so we’re doing this after all?” He cracked his knuckles. “Fine with me, kid. But let’s make this quick. I’ve got a stone to break.”
My feeling of panic rapidly escalated. “Keras…I mean, please wait. I know the real Keras. I’m one of his students. I’m his friend.”
His expression didn’t change. “Then you should know my feelings about being copied.”
I…didn’t know a lot about that, to be honest, but I could understand the feeling. “You mean like the copy of Lydia you saved?”
He furrowed his brow. “You know about her?”
I nodded hastily. “She’s still around. Calls herself Len now. She’s the one who brought me here to take this test.”
Slowly, he took a breath, continuing to stare me down. Then, after a moment, he asked simply, “Why?”
“I’m here to get a crystal for Warren Constantine. Something about making defenses for his tower? I think he—”
Keras waved a hand dismissively. “No, not that. Why is she helping you?”
“Admittedly, her motives are pretty inscrutable to me. I’m kind of in the middle of being manipulated by a bunch of powerful beings and what you’d probably call ‘old sages with insufferable riddles’.”
“Not sure I’d use quite that verbiage, but yeah, that does sound about right.” He nodded. He jerked a thumb at the door. “Look, if there’s anything left over after I destroy the crystal that copied me, you can take it.”
“That’s…no. The crystal here is sapient. You don’t kill sapient entities.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Keras generally doesn’t kill sapient creatures, true. But as you very accurately pointed out earlier, I’m not the real Keras. And even Keras makes exceptions. Slavers are on that list. Crystals that make copies of people without their consent, then recycle them for death games? That’s just a very creative kind of slavery.”
“I…I’m not actually going to argue that, but I’m pretty sure that this particular crystal has already been convinced. Very likely by you, or originally you, in fact.”
He folded his arms. “Then how am I here?”
“You probably consented.”
Keras snorted. “Not likely.”
“Well, I saw you examining yourself earlier — you know you don’t have your real annihilation aura. I presume that would be one of your main objections to being copied?”
“It would, but the bigger objection comes from not wanting people to mess with my soul.”
I raised a hand in a gesture of acknowledgement. “Fair, fair. Could I maybe have the crystal talk to you and explain the conditions under which you agreed to be copied?”
“Allowing the crystal to access my mind for telepathy could let it influence my decisions. I’m already compromised, but it would be an added risk.”
And I thought I was paranoid. I could have pushed that angle further and stressed that he was already potentially being compelled to be aggressive, but that seemed like a losing argument. “What can I do to convince you that you’re here of your own accord? Or, uh, the accord of the original Keras?”
“Nothing. In fact, you don’t even actually know that definitely, do you?”
I winced. He had a point. “…No?”
“Do you know where the real Keras is?”
“Mm. Sort of. Last I saw he was in the Tiger Spire in Caelford, but I don’t know if he’s still there.”
“Ah.” Keras shook his head. “Inaccessible, then. I’m not going to wait days or weeks to talk this out.”
I didn’t have that kind of time even if he was willing. “Then…all I can do is appeal to your instinct to not kill things, I suppose.”
He looked bemused. “I don’t know how much the other Keras has told you, but even I have limits. And my patience is about to hit one of them.”
I raised both hands. “I
could ask the crystal to tell me how you ended up here, and I could relate that to you? No chance of extra mind control that way, you’d just have to trust me.”
His eyes narrowed. “You said you’re one of my students?”
Something about how his eyes burned told me I was not going to like where this was going, but I replied regardless. “Yes…?”
“For what subject?”
I exhaled a breath. “Mostly swordplay.”
“Good.” Suddenly, Dawnbringer was in his right hand. “Show me.”
And then he vanished, in that particular way that Keras does when he’s moving too fast for me to see.
Resh. Haste!
I stumbled backward, pulling Selys-Lyann just in time to parry his first swing. Even with Haste on, I barely got my sword up in time, and when our blades made contact I felt my arm jerk out of position with such force that my shoulder nearly dislocated.
I gave an agonized grunt and barely maintained my grip, the regeneration function of my shield sigil dulling the pain in my arm to an extent that I was able to hold on.
And, in spite of the seemingly successful parry, Keras’ sword was already at my neck.
Then, after a tense moment, he stepped back. “Not a bad effort. Get yourself in a proper stance.”
I trembled for a moment, then took another step back, and lifted Selys-Lyann. I shifted to a side-profile stance, similar to a fencer, and extended my right arm toward him, keeping it almost completely straight. It wasn’t my ideal stance for a saber — it was an exhausting and aggressive way to stand, but there was a particular point to it.
I narrowed my eyes and said, with all the sharpness I could manage, “Selyrian Cutting Style, First Form: Overwhelming Advance.”
Keras blinked. “Really?”
I lunged.
Keras batted my first swing to the side immediately, but I’d expected that. I threw my left palm forward, already charged with transference mana. He side-stepped the blast, which was completely unnecessary, but I’d known he’d dodge an unknown projectile attack. He always stepped to his left when dodging an attack in that range, so I was ready for that, too.
Jump.
I shot to his side in a blur, jabbing downward toward his left leg and shoving a burst of transference mana through my hand and into Selys-Lyann. A shockwave of ice ripped from the blade, hitting the ground as Keras danced backward, leaving a patch of frost.
I’d intended to follow up on that by trying to encircle him in ice, but he slammed a boot into the ground. I jumped back just in time to avoid a wall of stone that rose from the ground in front of me, then side-stepped to avoid the crescent wave of light that carved cleanly through the wall.
I took a couple steps backward to make more room and evaluate. That was a mistake.
Keras burst through his own wall a moment later, swinging horizontally the moment he emerged. He was moving too fast for me to dodge, even with Haste.
Jump. I flashed to the side, avoiding another crescent wave of brilliant light and sending a wave of frost in his direction. He smashed that with a side-swipe, his sword covered in fire, and then hurled a blast of flame with his other hand.
Blade. I swept my left hand upward, my shroud wrapped around it in the form of a blade of pure mana, and tore the flame in half.
When his expression momentarily flickered in recognition at the sight of the hand-blade, I shot forward in another burst of speed from my ring, swinging down with Selys-Lyann.
He caught my sword in-between two fingers, giving the sword a quizzical look.
“…Please don’t break my artifact?” I pleaded.
He seemed to consider that. “Request granted.”
Then his other hand blurred and something slammed into my forehead.
My vision went black.
When it cleared, I was on the floor. I blinked rapidly, seeing stars.
Distantly, I was aware that I’d had my shield sigil fully charged when he’d hit me. Now, it was completely drained, and he’d still hit me hard enough that I’d nearly lost consciousness.
I’d just upgraded that thing, and he’d punched through it with a single casual strike.
Something was burning my left eye. It was probably blood, but I couldn’t reach up to wipe it: Keras was standing above me with my own sword resting on the center of my chest.
And ice was beginning to flow up his hand. He glanced downward at it, seemingly unconcerned. The ice stopped spreading, but remained in place. “Unusual. You’re not bonded to this sword yet, but they’re still protecting you.”
The ice melted away entirely, then he flipped the sword over holding it blade-first again. Then he angled it toward my hand. It took me a moment of still-concussed thought to realize he was offering it back to me.
“…If I take that, are you going to hit me again immediately?”
“I’ll let you stand up first.”
I groaned, took the sword’s hilt, and pushed myself into a seated position. “Could…I maybe get a five-minute breather?”
“Sure, I’ll come back when I’m done with breaking the crystal.” He turned and headed toward the door.
I was back on my feet a moment later. “Wait, wait.”
Keras spun around, a grin stretched across his face again. “Thought so. Now, is that all I taught you?”
“You taught me a fair bit, but your forms were built for you. You’re used to using weapons that are unusually light for your level of strength, and you can extend your reach with your aura, using it as a form of area denial and intimidation. I can’t really do the same thing — I don’t have the same capabilities you do. Most of the forms of your style aren’t a good match for me, and that one is honestly one of the worst.”
“Why’d you use it, then?”
I laughed. “Thought seeing it would throw you off.”
“It did,” Keras admitted, “but only for a second. Not enough to close the gap.”
“…Admittedly, Mara is a better close combat student. I’m an Enchanter, you know.”
He blinked. “I have more than one student?”
“You do. Mara is great. You’d like her. I mean, you do like her, obviously, or you wouldn’t be teaching her.”
Keras nodded. “How’d I get into teaching you?”
“Mostly a side effect of blackmail from a visage.”
“Ah.” He nodded affably. “Yeah, that checks out.” Then, he lifted Dawnbringer again. “You ready?”
“Not really?”
“That’s unfortunate.”
Then he was swinging again, his brilliant blade tracing an arc in the air too fast for me to follow.
…But I didn’t need to.
I’d fought Keras Selyrian hundreds of times. The real Keras Selyrian.
And I’d long ago adapted to fighting a stronger and faster Keras.
I can do this.
When his crescent shot forward, I didn’t bother using the ring to jump. Instead, I punched the crescent with a burst of transference mana. I knew his crescents from Dawn were primarily light mana, but they contained enough transference to make a traditional reaction:
The crescent hit my fist and flashed, then shot right back toward Keras.
He looked only momentarily startled before catching the gleaming crescent in his own free hand and holding it like a solid object.
My eyes widened briefly. That, at least, was new.
“Not bad, kid.”
Then he snapped the crescent between his fingers and flickered forward.
Fortunately, I was already moving before he did. His swing passed through the air in front of me, and I countered with the best move I knew to take him off-guard.
Accelerated Computation.
I ripped the circlet off my head. As he stepped backward in confusion, my mind swam.
Distance: 1.8 meters.
Mana thread attached.
Angle and force required…
I hurled my circlet at him. He raised his sword to parry, but wi
th a thought, I jerked downward on the mana threads attached and ripped the circlet out of the way of his movement. There was only a split second of contact with Keras’ sleeve as the circlet moved downward, but with my mind racing, it was enough.
“Return.”
The circlet flashed as the teleportation effect activated…
…And the circlet clattered harmlessly to the ground.
Keras glanced down at the fallen item, then looked up to me with a quizzical look. “Offensive teleportation?”
“…Yeah.”
“So, I haven’t told you about my boots, then?”
“…No?”
He nodded. “Shame.”
Then he punched me in the face, too fast for me to process. I stumbled, but didn’t hit the ground this time. Instead, I simply staggered and reached up to wipe the blood away from my nose, then spat from bleeding gums.
Keras lifted Dawnbringer, resting it against his shoulder. For a moment, he simply watched me as I stepped back and took a defensive stance.
I knew that I couldn’t match him in a straight fight, even with the advantage of knowing his style and anticipating his movements. Not with my current power. I needed something, anything, that I could use to even the odds.
There was a heartbeat of silence as we both waited for the other to make the next move.
Then, I egregiously cheated.
Pit trap.
The floor dropped out from beneath Keras as the crystal read my intent.
I’d decided against using any of my remaining mana before I started the fight. I had plans for that mana, after all, and I’d been saving it for an important purpose.
Sometimes, the wisest thing someone can do is change their mind.
Couch pile.
A pile of furniture fell on top of the pit, just like it had with the rashan. Unlike with the rashan, however, Keras wasn’t going to have any difficulty escaping.
I’d bought myself seconds at best, and I was going to make every moment count.
And I did that, by doing what I do best — something incredibly, catastrophically foolish.
I closed my eyes and focused on my right hand.
Analyze Attunement Composition.