Chapter 8: Impersonal Friends

"What exactly am I supposed to do?"

Anna realized that, despite agreeing to aid in the search for the Golden Flower, she had no idea how. She couldn't consciously access her memories of the Mirror. It wasn't a matter of willingness; Anna could try all she wanted, but returning to that all-encompassing view felt like disembodiment—like being everywhere and nowhere at once, like becoming the world by losing her own self. Her fragile, human mind couldn't comprehend it, the sheer scope of the world. If there were some higher power out there, then Anna didn't envy his or her omnipresence.

"Don't worry about that for now," Sol said. "It'd be best if you just focus on getting better and maaaybe learning to walk again? It sucks to be stuck in that wheelchair, right? It'd be nice to get out of it, right?"

"…Yeah."

"Well! How about I give you that tour I promised? If she wants, Elsa can come along too."

As Anna learned, the dormitory area was connected to the refectory, or dining hall. It was a short walk to the cloister church, where they had convened the previous day; but that was largely for the sake of visitors, and typical meetings were at the chapter hall. There was a cloister walk too, connecting the library and classrooms and rooms dedicated to preserving rare, preserved documents. All these buildings were spread out within a large courtyard, with space reserved for relaxation and even a garden path similar to what Sol had at her home; but behind it all, taking up a large majority of the complex, was the training grounds for the knights.

Everything here was tastefully done, Anna thought. Grandiose in size, maybe, but the place otherwise resembled a modest monastery. Most buildings were crafted out of white wood and stone, and Anna saw not workers but students taking time to clean, sweeping leaves out of the paths and watering the plants. Even Elsa admitted that the temple was agreeable—though the company was lacking, she added.

Sol had then departed, citing some task that Judus had assigned. Elsa suggested that they eat, and so they headed to the refectory. Anna was there just in time to see Rapunzel leaving, clutching a piece of bread in her mouth; but though their eyes met, Rapunzel hurried on without a word.

"Don't worry. She'll come around," Elsa said.

Anna wasn't so sure.

They would have eaten in relative silence, but they had been joined by two new initiates who were fascinated by Anna's sudden arrival. Aaron and Miriam, they were named, both of them Student Apprentices—the lowest rank of the Order. They both seemed more than a little in love with Sol, just like the villagers of Merryvale had been. Beloved everywhere she went, Anna thought. It was…uncanny.

"She's only around our age and she's already at the top of the Order," Aaron said, waving his fork like a storyteller might brandish his pipe. "I mean, she's not ranked, but everyone just knows. Even Uriah listens to her, and he's a full-fledged Knight—one of the youngest ever! I don't think he even bothers to show respect to Lazarus and the other veterans, but he straight up takes orders from Sol."

"And she's new, too. She joined just before us, like, eight or nine months ago. Apparently Master Judus brought her back from the Southern Isles!" Miriam looked warily at Elsa, but she didn't bother to respond, only chewed pensively on her meal as she pretended not to listen. "Poor thing was captured and taken there. Which is…actually sort of odd, isn't it?"

Because she had magic. Anna had witnessed it, not just the healing magic but her offensive powers. She couldn't rival Elsa, but defending herself against soldiers and slavers...

Anna saw Elsa narrow her eyes, but she said nothing about it.

After breakfast, Aaron and Miriam had headed to their classes since, apparently, Judus refused to lead a group of unlearned brutes. Everyone in the Order was required to be scholars and fighters both, and their classes included poetry and history, horticulture and tea ceremony. Any talent in the arts was to be cultivated, and at the very least, appreciation of a wide range of subjects was expected.

"Do you like it here?" Anna asked. It was an odd question, she knew, unprompted, but instinct told her that places of learning was something Elsa could appreciate. Elsa liked learning, was fascinated by all kinds of knowledge. If nothing else, the room of artifacts, containing original manuscripts of ancient texts and classic literature, was the sort of place that Elsa could have spent all day exploring.

"It's…not disagreeable." Elsa looked up, frowning just a little. "I wonder what life would have been like, if Markus really had handed me over to the Order. It's a strange thought."

"Maybe one day you could start a place like this, too," Anna said. Elsa just looked at her in disbelief, and she smiled. "I mean, like a school. I could see you doing that."

"Me, teach?" Elsa laughed dryly. "I'm not patient enough to coddle anyone."

"No! Remember when you were teaching me about geography?"

"That was because it was you."

Anna smiled. "I'm pretty sure you'd do well enough."

"Let's say I wanted to teach," Elsa said. "Who would want to learn from someone like me?"

But Anna was sure that Elsa was mulling over the idea. She had never said outright that she didn't want to teach, and for Elsa, always direct and pointedly precise with her words, that was as good as a confession. Well, that was for another time. Anna smiled over her meal, thinking about how to broach the topic of her next destination, when Elsa brought it up before she could.

"Are you really going to the training grounds?" Elsa asked.

"Yeah, I…want to walk again," Anna said. "Sol said someone would guide me there later today."

Anna had spent all night thinking about it. She had tried before, tried and failed, but she wondered if fear really had stopped her from succeeding. Maybe. She hadn't even wanted to succeed, not really. When she had tried to walk before, she had done it because she didn't want to be a burden on Elsa. It wasn't for her own sake, not like now. It wasn't just that she didn't want to sit. It was that she wanted to walk. She wanted to stand on her own. It was a small difference, but maybe it would be enough.

"But I want to go on my own," Anna said.

"Why?"

"It's too easy to rely on you." Anna smiled, hoping she could reassure Elsa. She cared too much, and that was a trap that Anna knew well. "Trust me. I can do this on my own."

"…I see." Elsa sighed and closed her eyes. "Well, that's fine. I should return to the castle and inform Friderich about the situation."

It was a concession, and Anna accepted it gratefully. It must have pained Elsa to leave her on her own, but Anna had little doubt that Elsa was tired, too. Anyone would be, taking care of someone for months. It would be a small respite for both of them, Anna from Elsa's shadow and Elsa from Anna's burden. Elsa would be there if she needed her to be, and that was enough.

"I'll see you later," Elsa said, smiling softly.

But no matter how much she wanted to try her own strength, that didn't make separation any easier. Elsa left on her own errands, leaving Anna to head out by herself to the chapter hall, where she was supposed to wait for her guide, and it was nerve-wracking. She wasn't sure she was ready for this after all. Being surrounded by people she didn't know, traversing a place she didn't recognize—Anna took a deep breath. It could be fun if she allowed it to be.

"Princess Anna?"

Anna looked up at the call of her name, and she was greeted by a middle-aged man, broad-shouldered and more heavily built than anyone she had ever seen. He was wearing the customary white coat of the Order, albeit disheveled, one collar raised and the other flattened. It would have seemed natural to find the man intimidating, but he had large eyes and a soft smile, and he was somehow far from threatening.

"Hello," Anna said, gripping the edge of her wheelchair and staring up at the man.

"Lazarus," said the man, smiling warmly, and he offered a massive hand. Anna took it, blinking at the firmness of his handshake. "It's a pleasure to meet you. If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"Umm, I'm twenty."

It was…pretty weird to say that aloud.

"Oh, you look younger than that," Lazarus said. "Well then! I hope the Temple is treating you well."

"It's been really great."

"Mmm, I'm glad, I'm glad. It must be a lot to take in, I know." Lazarus guided her along the path, and when they passed by people, nearly all of them stopped to wave to Lazarus. "I expect Judus has given you a lot to think about."

"Yeah…" Anna looked down. "It's…I agreed to help, but…"

"Sometimes decisions are easy to make in the moment and harder to accept once the moment has passed." Lazarus shot her a sympathetic glance. "But for what it's worth—I think that some doubt is good. It just means that you're thinking! Better than being a knucklehead like me."

Anna laughed. "Thank you, that means a lot. I feel like I've been doubting myself a lot, lately. Am I doing the right thing. Am I going to hurt anybody. It's…hard to tell."

"It's definitely hard," Lazarus agreed. "Listen, Anna. I know about your magic, and I want to say— It really is good to have some doubts, as long as you don't let it stop you from acting. Having no second thoughts about anything…well, that just means that you have no regard for anyone but yourself. See, I can already tell that you're someone who cares about other people. I can trust you because of that."

Anna couldn't find the words to respond. Maybe Lazarus knew, because their conversation continued on a lighter note. He asked about her hobbies, what she liked to eat, what her favorite color was, what sorts of things she had seen on her journey before coming to Corona. Anna was dazed by this man who was irrationally kind and unfailingly intuitive. With a pang, she realized that he reminded her of Kai.

"Here we are!" Lazarus said, as they entered the larger clearing at the back of the complex. "Welcome to our little slice of paradise. Just kidding, I think most of us get sick of it after running a couple miles."

It was definitely a nice place. An armory and stables were obvious essentials, but there was an entire range for riding and Anna could see several knights racing past the obstacles. Several rings had been cleared from the grassy field, and within each one were pairs of sparring students, while some others spectated. Other blue-clad trainees were running along the perimeter or otherwise practicing some form of weaponry, whether that was archery or knife-throwing.

"Ahh, there are my apprentices," Lazarus said, smiling fondly as he pointed to a boy and girl within one particular sparring ring. Looking at them, Anna now understood a lot of his demeanor. He was clearly a fatherly figure, and that responsibility had given him insight he'd used with Anna.

As they approached the ring, though, Anna realized that she recognized the pair.

"Gwen, Valen! I'd like you two to meet Princess Anna."

They were the two from the marketplace.

Gwen looked down her nose at Anna, sheathing her sword in a deliberate flourish. It seemed that her attitude was never much better than her display at the market. Anna could practically feel the condescension. "Now I've met her. Can we move on to something else?"

"Gwen," Lazarus said, tone sterner than any he had used yet.

"Right! Let's move on past the pleasantries and dull questions," Valen said, smoothly maneuvering himself between Lazarus and Gwen. "It is entirely my pleasure to meet you, Princess Anna. I should dearly like to kiss your hand, but I don't want to transgress."

Anna stared at him with wide eyes.

Valen gave her a knowing smile and shrugged almost imperceptibly.

"R-Right! Umm, thank you for the thought," Anna said, smiling. She understood Valen's intention to avoid making Gwen apologize, and she was glad for it—Lazarus looked uncomfortable already with his pupil's behavior, and Anna didn't want him to feel worse when she inevitably gave a forced apology.

"I do say," Valen continued, "I had no idea you would be visiting us today, or I would have made sure to dress in my finest white coat, out of my closet of identical white coats. My white coats are, naturally, more handsome than everyone else's white coats. Yes, Gwen, even your white coat. Don't be jealous."

Anna snorted.

She hadn't taken time to observe Valen last time, since she was more focused on Gwen. She was still pretty, in her unconventional kind of way. Not the large doe eyes associated with innocence but narrowed, slightly tapered eyes that were sharp and alert, and thin lips instead of a full, pouting mouth; but her prettiness was spoiled by her nasty expression. In contrast, Valen was like a ray of sunshine. His hair was exceedingly blonde, practically yellow, and his jaunty smile was confident, almost cocky. Valen was the type with admirers, Anna could tell. There was an obvious pink stain on the inside of his collar, and the sight almost made her blush.

"Rapunzel told me about you," Valen said gently, dropping the pompous persona.

"Oh! You know Rapunzel?"

She really hoped the lipstick on his collar wasn't—

"She's my cousin. Zuzanna is my aunt," Valen said, and the way he lingered over the syllables of cousin made it obvious he knew exactly what she had been thinking, and he thought it was hilarious.

Anna cringed.

"Can we get back to training?" Gwen said sharply. She stepped out from behind Valen, and the way she looked down at Anna spoke volumes. Her gaze went to Anna's wheelchair and her lip curled, not even with condescension but—disdain. She didn't think Anna was worth her time. "No offense, Lazarus, but since you're not letting us investigate, I may as well do something productive."

Lazarus sighed. "Of course, you two get back to it. I'll be back to supervise. Let's go, Anna."

Anna returned Valen's wave and followed after Lazarus, who seemed to be heading towards the armory and its several adjoined buildings. His steps were more hurried than before, almost uncomfortably so.

"I'm sorry about Gwen," Lazarus said, stopping suddenly in his tracks.

"No! It's fine," Anna said. She could already sense an uncomfortable conversation coming. It was like being with a teacher and tattling on another kid, only a thousand times worse because she was an adult and shouldn't have needed this type of coddling.

"It's not." Lazarus turned, and he looked…tired, worn, like a weathered stone. "It's very brave that you're here, Anna. It would have been easy for you to just run away from your problems, and I'm sure Elsa would have hidden you away if that was what you wanted. But that's not what you did. You came here so you could help and also be helped, and that bravery needs to be recognized. You're a person, and it's important you're treated with respect. Remember that."

"…Okay."

Anna really hoped she wasn't tearing up. It was so embarrassing, but Lazarus just smiled.

"Gwen is very preoccupied with ascending the ranks," Lazarus said. "Yes, she does want prestige, and she does trample on other people's feelings, sometimes. But she has her reasons. I won't delve into them, because they're not mine to tell, but…I hope you can find it in you to forgive. I know it doesn't justify her attitude, but being unable to investigate these attacks is frustrating to her."

"Why isn't she allowed to investigate?" Anna asked, though she had an idea already. It wasn't hard to remember her first time seeing Gwen.

"I think we both know that she isn't ready." Lazarus smiled. "But I think she'll mature with time. At least, I hope so! I'm already getting grey hairs."

Anna grinned. "Sometimes you do seem like a nice grandpa."

"Yes…" Lazarus chuckled. "Maybe I would be in another, luckier life."

They resumed their walk at a more comfortable pace, and soon they had arrived at one of the barracks. No weapons for today, Lazarus joked. They were going to be working on walking today and probably for a good while after today, because these things couldn't be rushed. Just from the outside, the building looked comfortable enough. It wasn't steel like the barracks at the Southern Isles Castle had been, but the same white wood that made up the other buildings in the temple. There were enough windows that the light would shine in comfortably. All in all, it was as reassuring as it could be.

"Nervous?"

"A little," Anna admitted. She liked Lazarus. She liked speaking to him even more than she did Sol, who had a tendency of making her feel slightly off balance for a reason that she couldn't name. She wasn't really relaxed around Sol, not in the easy way she was with Lazarus, who was such a fatherly figure that he could probably make a frightened rabbit calm down; but even still, she didn't really want to try to walk around him, someone she had just met today. It just made her feel too exposed, too vulnerable.

"Well, that's normal. But…I have a bit of a surprise for you, and hopefully this will help."

Lazarus opened the door to the compound, and Anna froze. It took every bit of willpower not to turn tail and flee—but actually, she couldn't move at all. She was rooted to the spot.

Alek was waiting inside.

"…Hey," he said.

At least he looked uncomfortable too.

"I'll leave you two to work on your own now," Lazarus said, squeezing her shoulder once, and Anna swallowed thickly. "I should make sure those kids out there aren't causing any trouble."

Anna pushed herself into the room, her gaze never straying from Alek. She'd almost forgotten that he was in Corona. Or rather, she had let herself avoid the thought of him. What was she supposed to say? I'm sorry I froze you into a statue. I'm sorry I brainwashed you and then sent you to kill your brother.

"They figured you'd be more comfortable if I was the one to help you," Alek said. Anna took back every bit of praise she had given Lazarus. When she didn't respond, Alek added, "I mean, I wanted to help. It's not like I was forced into it." Anna remained silent, and Alek exhaled through his nose. "Anna, look—"

"Thank you, for helping me that other night."

"…Yeah. Sure." Alek cricked his neck, looking away for a moment like it was a brief reprieve. "Should we get started? With getting you walking again."

"Sure."

"We did this with Hans," Alek said. "Patience isn't really my strong suit, but this does take a while so we should just try to get you standing for now. Take these. Leg braces to take your…considerable weight."

Alek looked at her pointedly, like he was waiting for a particular response, but Anna just took the braces and began to attach them to her legs with mechanical motions. They were bulky things, and she needed to scoot forward in her wheelchair to make room, but eventually she slid them on. There was a whole contraption at the back of her knee to keep her legs straightened.

"Here." Alek extended his hand. Anna hesitated for a second before taking it, allowing him to help her off her wheelchair and into a rudimentary standing position.

She'd tried this before. She could manage as far as getting to her feet, but staying on her feet was the hard part. It felt like her legs were about to collapse at any moment. Her arms were shaking while she held onto Alek, and she grit her teeth to bite back a groan.

"Relax," Alek said, gripping her arms. "You have the braces, and I'm here to balance you. Just get used to the feeling of standing. Don't forget to breathe. Exhale, Anna."

It was excruciating for the first ten or fifteen seconds, when she felt like she would fall at any moment, and the fear of an impact was at the forefront of her mind. It became a little easier past that. Before, Elsa had always just let her sit back down when she became afraid, and she'd never managed to stand for more than five seconds. Alek kept a strong grip on her elbows so she didn't have much of a choice but to stand, and as much as she resented it at first…

She'd needed that tiny push.

"All right, that's good." Alek lowered her slowly back into her seat, and Anna took a deep breath of relief. She was sweating already, and she wasn't sure if it was from exertion or fear or both. "Take a break and then we'll try it again."

"Okay, thank you," Anna said. Alek stared. She looked down at her knees, still feeling his gaze, but eventually there just wasn't any way to avoid him anymore. "Is…something wrong?"

"…You don't sound like yourself."

Anna blinked. "What?"

"You—" Alek paused. "We're friends, Anna. You don't have to be so formal. We can joke around, like we used to. It's not—I don't—Whatever, I don't know what I'm saying. Forget it."

"…Okay."

Alek sighed.

He had her stand up, and once again, she did everything she could to avoid looking at him even as he helped to balance her on her feet. She looked at her feet, around the room. It was well-padded with thick rugs in case she fell, and also well-equipped with what she assumed was meant to help her in later stages of her therapy. All sorts of braces, blocks, even a walker that made her uneasy just looking at it. She was in a wheelchair, not…old. But she was being judgmental. Lots of people needed walkers, and not all of them were old. She was an example.

"Take a break."

Avoiding Alek's eyes had actually diverted her attention enough that she'd stood for longer than she thought. Anna had no illusions about how long she would manage without the braces and without Alek as a human crutch, but she was pleased with her progress. She opened her mouth to say something to that effect—and then stopped.

"Anna?"

"Sorry, I just…" Anna cleared her throat. "I forgot what I was going to say."

"I don't blame you."

"What?"

"I don't blame you," Alek said again. Anna looked up to see that his eyes were closed, his mouth set into a deep frown. "Listen, I'm not that petty. I know it wasn't you doing all of that."

"…It was."

Alek opened his eyes. "No, Anna. Look, Elsa's told me all about you thinking you're the one at fault, but that – wasn't – you. It was just Edmund messing with your head, so stop blaming yourself."

"It's not like that—"

"It is," Alek said, practically growling, and he turned his back and paced to the other end of the room as he spoke. "Will you stop saying that it was you doing that stuff? You're not responsible."

"But it was. I am." Anna was beginning to feel indignant too, that Alek wouldn't hear a word she had to say. Did he really think he knew better? "I won't pretend like it wasn't me. I – am – at – fault."

"Do you want to be blamed?" Alek sounded so shocked. It was almost touching how much blind faith he had, but it pained her much more. Now he thought she just had a martyr complex. Maybe she did. Anna had considered that before, that maybe her so-called self-awareness was just her need to be tragic.

But she remembered the vivid satisfaction of ice and lightning bursting from her fingers.

"Does that even matter?"

"You didn't have a choice," Alek exclaimed. He was talking to himself as much as he was speaking to Anna. "You weren't in your right mind. You shouldn't feel like you need to take responsibility for it."

"You're right, I wasn't thinking straight." Anna shook her head. "But that doesn't mean it wasn't me thinking. I knew what I was doing. I remember it all."

"I'm telling you—"

"Who are you to tell me anything?"

Alek whirled around. By now, Anna had managed to push herself onto her feet, wobbling precariously and bracing most of her weight on her upper body as she pushed against the arms of her wheelchair. But she was standing on her own. Alek's eyes went to her feet before returning to her face.

"I just…don't want to believe it," Alek said quietly. "I don't want to believe that you could do that to me."

"…I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

"If you had been thinking straight…" Alek's voice caught in his throat, and he stopped. "If you had been thinking straight, then would you have…?"

"I would never have done it," Anna said. Her strength ran out and she fell, back into her wheelchair and back to her sins. Her eyes stung with tears, and they burned as they slid down her cheeks. She felt so cold. "I would never hurt you. I just— Oh, God. I don't know. I just thought I could do anything. I felt so strong that nothing seemed to matter anymore, but I – I swear I don't – I don't want to hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Alek crossed back to her side of the room and pulled her close.

"It's fine," Alek said, even as she sobbed her apologies. "Listen, I believe you. If you say you won't do anything to hurt me, I believe it. It's fine, Anna. I forgive you. All right? We're friends."

"H-How can you trust me…?"

"Yeah, well," Alek said, snorting, "I trust Hans and he tried to do all of us in. Not that he was any good at it, stupid prick. Oh, and don't get me started on Elsa. If I can stop trying to murder her, then we're fine. Not that I was any good at that. Good thing, huh?"

Anna laughed through her sobs, and it hurt her chest but it felt good to laugh.

"Yeah. Good thing you suck," Anna said.

"There we go. Now you sound like Anna." Alek smiled, and it was such a rare expression for him, to not be scowling or frowning or trying to look scary but instead smiling—Anna felt so relieved. "I think you've had enough excitement for today. We made good progress, but we can keep going tomorrow."

"Sounds good."

It really did.

Anna was glad Alek was here.

From his perch on the balustrade of the tower walls, Ayden surveyed the proceedings of the Temple of Light.

Truthfully, he enjoyed the sensation of being removed from the world and viewing its comings and goings as a spectator, and he would often sit and watch as people flit about their lives. There was something liberating about being able to enjoy the sight of life with none of the dangers of participating. Maybe he was meant to only watch from the outside. Maybe that was why he never felt comfortable throwing himself into the chaos, which looked so much more serene from a faraway perspective.

For instance, from this distance, he could appreciate the beauties of the temple.

But he knew that if he approached it, that beauty would morph in an instant.

Ayden rubbed his eyes, glad that he had forsaken his mask for today and been allowed an unobscured view. Of course, he was still hiding the lower half of his face. No one would see it and think, or say—

What a pretty girl.

Sometimes Morgan called him beautiful, on accident, and he knew that she meant well, but it still set him on edge. It really shouldn't have, though. Should it? Some men were called beautiful. Were they just more comfortable with themselves, that they didn't mind, or even took pride in, so-called beauty?

His father had been a beautiful man, both inside and out. Noble, beautiful, and Ayden was sure that, if there were such a thing as heaven, his father was there now, watching him. Along with the rest of his blood family, the entirety of his household—Ayden could only hope they weren't sent to oblivion. He prayed that there was an afterlife so that the twenty-odd members of his family, the sixty-three servants, hadn't been completely destroyed. That the husks of their empty corpses hadn't been the end of them.

That was why if he got any closer to this seemingly beautiful temple, he knew he would see ugliness.

A familiar face here, a recognized voice there, burned into his memory since the night of the raid on his home. If he got any closer, he wasn't sure he would be able to stop himself from indulging a baser side, one which craved vengeance that was called justice. How many people down there had been at his home that night? How many people down there had spilled the blood of his family?

Exterminate them, Judus had said. For conspiracy against the royal family. Convenient. Conspiracy could mean anything. They could have been conspiring to take a late night visit to the castle, just for the scenery, and that would have been conspiracy. They could have been conspiring to assassinate the king and queen, and that would have been conspiracy. Anything was conspiracy if argued for hard enough.

But that was a long time ago.

Ayden had already seen what he came to see, and he debated continuing to watch for whatever, or leaving now. There might be some strategic value to salvage from this whole mess. Yes, he had gone against Brennus and Taranis's warnings, but he had needed to see for himself whether or not it was true. Mani hadn't tried to stop him. She had just vanished, leaving a transcribed laugh hanging in the air.

But Sol was here.

Ayden had seen her walking with Anna.

"You've been there long enough."

It was spoken so quietly that Ayden barely registered it, but the spear that came flying towards his face was harder not to notice.

Ayden leapt off the balustrade, wincing from the cut just below his eye, but he still managed to safely land on his feet outside the temple. One man was walking out, his steps calm and measured, and he surmised this was the person who had tried to impale him just now. White coat, just like every other faceless, nameless member of the Order. Glasses, which could be a weakness.

"Uriah, Knight of the Order of the Rose," he said. His voice was as bleached of emotion as his coat was of color. It suited his face, cold and stone-like, like he had been carved from marble.

"…Ayden."

"Are you part of the Red Tempest?"

"Yes."

Uriah nodded, and he reached to the lance strapped to his back. "In that case, I will exterminate you."

Exterminate.

Ayden rushed forward, newfound shadow magic coiling into a spear in his hand, and he reached Uriah before he could even finish drawing his weapon; and he stabbed the spear towards his face. Ayden was moving faster than he had ever moved before, wisps of his magic exploding from his body and giving him unnatural speed, and he expected to impale the man's eye—but Uriah sidestepped, and his efforts were rewarded only by a scratch on his face. Uriah made no sound of pain and instead stabbed forward, and Ayden retreated from the solid-black lance. An instant later and it would have pierced his gut.

"We match," Ayden said. There was a cut below his right eye, and now Uriah had one below his left. Both of them were using pole weapons, he a two-handed spear and Uriah a lance.

"…Indeed."

Uriah leapt towards him, once again stabbing mercilessly at his vital areas, and Ayden was amazed at how fast he moved with such a bulky weapon. There was nothing he could do except redirect the attacks with the shaft of his spear, letting the lance slide past until Uriah inevitably drew it back and stabbed again. Ayden swung desperately, but the lance intercepted and shunted his spear away before slicing for his neck again, stabbing forward once he stumbled back. It was like being under assault by a battering ram. What could he do except defend?

Parry, thrust, slice, flick, hook, pick, pierce, block.

Ayden flung the lance away with a strong heave, and for the first time, Uriah widened his eyes in surprise. Now he was in control. Uriah's lance was primarily used for stabbing, and as long as Ayden closed the distance between them, there was little he could do to retaliate. He struck with the spear-butt and then the bladed end, making quick, small movements every time, and Uriah could only block with his lance held vertical, closer and closer to his body. It was impossible for him to try to stab him again. Ayden slammed his spear down in a wide arc and Uriah sidestepped in time for the pole to hit the ground; but Ayden was already winding it back, catching it by the upper half and swinging it around to readjust his grip, and he lunged.

He sliced through the epaulette on Uriah's right shoulder, and they paused.

Uriah's free hand curled into a fist, and he punched him in the chest.

Ayden stumbled back, hacking up blood, and he was sure that Uriah had ruptured something. But the man wasn't pursuing him, wasn't continuing his attack like he should have. Instead he was staring, looking at his fist for a moment and then back to him, and Ayden felt sick seeing the realization grow in his eyes, as he understood what it meant to have punched his bound chest and felt the softness there.

"You're a…" Uriah paused.

Don't say it.

Don't you say it.

I am not a woman.

"You're strong."

"Wh-What?"

"You said your name was Ayden, correct?" Uriah brandished his lance, but his left hand was thumbing the torn epaulette on his coat, and there was a glint of interest in his previously blank eyes. "I'll remember it as the name of the first man to cut me."

Hah. Ayden had only ever heard that he was too weak, too gentle, too soft, too feminine to be a man. Maybe it was true and his body was fragile. His personality would never be what other people called masculine, and neither would his face, with its delicate softness. Was he a boy, or was he just a stupid little girl playing pretend, making a big deal out of nothing? Minds were dangerous places to dwell in.

Ayden flung his spear at Uriah.

By the time he had batted it away and looked back, Ayden was long gone.