Chapter 167: Ice and Darkness.

The next day arrived all too quickly. I managed to get enough sleep despite everything and found myself back in the Lower Quarter, inside Wizard Gang territory, inside the stadium’s training room once more. This time without Joan and Liche. Also, today, I’d be sparring with someone else.

Éclair had mentioned that at least. Who exactly I was going to spar, I didn’t know, but when I arrived in the training area, there was a familiar face present.

“Black Hawk, it’s a pleasure to meet you again.” I said after a brief pause, taking him in. It had been some time since I last saw him. Even more time since we had fought together during the Sheep incident. Which was apparently resolved.

He was an odd sort, nothing special to name about him. Not really. He looked normal enough and had a tendency to wear a lot of leather, almost like a biker.

He greeted me with a dazzling smile of his own. “Prima, it’s been a while.” His hand extended out and I took it. We shook for a moment.

“I suppose you’re my sparring partner for today?”

“Indeed! Éclair thinks we’d make a good match.” He said, upbeat.

“Well, I look forward to it, should I prepare, or…?” I ask, looking over to Éclair.

“Nope, transform and go at it like that. Best to keep things fair and all.” Was her response.

“Very well, you good to go?”

“Of course!” He announced.

At that, we stood at opposite ends of the room, taking each other in. Black Hawk looked giddy. He also seemed to be waiting for me to make the first move, and I did.

I placed my hand on my chest, felt for that feeling. The thump in my chest, the beating of my heart as it cracked away at the ice. Until finally, the ice fell away, and I began my transformation. Opposite of me, Black Hawk began his own transformation. He struck a pose, his body melting away into darkness, and with each new pose, portions of his uniform came into being.

We both finished at the same time, I hit my final presenting flourish, rifle forming in hand, whilst Black Hawk finished by announcing his name and producing what I could only call throwing stars.

He didn’t wait. He started by throwing them haphazardly in my direction, I moved to the side, my bayonet forming at the end of my rifle. The world slowed a beat as I moved out of the way of the majority, one of them was a bit too close to comfortably dodge, so I prepped a swing to deflect the blow.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” Éclair shouted out, breaking through the ice clearing my mind.

I had no idea why she said that, but I swerved instead of followed through, my rifle went wide, but the thrown star sang by, nearly cutting into me…

And behind me? Where the star landed? The ground shook, the sound of something absurdly heavy cracked into the tile. A tearing scream as it ripped through the ground leaving a devastating gouge.

My mind whirred. Even as ice kept me cool. Like a raging river buried under thick ice. Unbidden, memories resurfaced. Of how Black Hawk fought, his specialty.

He’d fought Éclair, I’d also fought at his side during the Sheep incident. His magic was darkness related, like Nyx, only, very different. Mass control, was what Éclair had called it, I believe. The ability to control his density, and I distinctly remember him duking it out with horrors as if he were straight out of a comic book.

Those throwing stars were an extension of that power, which meant, he could easily alter their density at any time… Had I hit the star… Had I tried to deflect it… I don’t think I would have just walked away from that.

“No fair!” Black Hawk yelled. “That’s interference!” He cried to Éclair.

She shrugged. “It’s the only bit of advice I’ll give her, and… I’ll make sure you get one too, how about that?”

I could almost see his frowning face under that helmet of his. His posture, everything about him seemed amplified in a way.

“Sounds good!” He cried out, giving her a thumbs up and turned to face me.

Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t idle. In that moment, I’d taken the chance to fill my rifle. My first shot sang and he immediately moved, dodging the blow as if he were a ghost. Literally gliding along the ground as if weightless.

The first bullet was a testing round, a standard shot that sang its crystalline song. His retort was to throw a pair of throwing stars my way, forcing me to dodge them as they flitted as if weightless one moment, and suddenly gained in speed, practically screaming as they flew past, and carved into the floor where they landed.

 I returned with another song, a high and low one. He flitted away like a ghost, but the bullet exploded and threw him right into the far wall. Ejecting the casing I made to press him further when more stars came flying my way.

Their trajectories were impossible to determine. Their flight patterns erratic as they went from impossibly dense, to light as air. Some seemed to float eternally as he threw more, others came flying as if they were shot from a cannon. The angles were devious, like I was a batter trying to hit a curveball.

What momentum I had, stalled. Just evading the stars took all I had, blades forming at the soles of my boots gave me that little extra oomph needed to push through the net. All the while, Black Hawk continued to flit about, avoiding bullets and blows.

Quickly, a chance came. A pull of the trigger, a choir’s song filled the air. The bullet hit true, cracking into a floating star, only to rebound, a voice silenced, and cracked into another. In a blink of the eye, the bullet pinged off numerous stars, nearly grazing me on multiple occasions before bursting towards its intended target.

Black Hawk was caught off-guard, but not by enough. With a swirl of his cape, he smacked it aside, or rather, he tried. Even empowered, made denser than a cape had any right to be, the blow still sent him flying. Allowing me to follow up with another shot. A shrill cry filled the air as the bullet screamed, piercing through the barrier of stars and went right for the disordered Black Hawk. His body grew hazy; the bullet harmlessly ran right through his form.

And all at once, I felt something stir. As I moved and danced, my rime had filled the space. Guided and kept in check by the swirling stars, and yet, I felt the air shift and change right beside me as something entered my area of influence.

I moved without further thought, rifle swinging out towards the disturbance. Bayonet pointed out. The bayonet shattered on impact with the disturbance, the sudden loss nearly made me fall to the ground, a last-minute adjustment saw me twist, finding my balance and narrowly avoiding the source of the disturbance.

And as it hurtled by, I finally got a good look at it… A foot. Rather, a foot clad in a boot. Black Hawk’s boot. His entire leg was jutting out of one of the stars, even now, it was rapidly dissipating, but I didn’t have time to marvel over what had just happened. Not when more limbs came hurtling towards me.

I moved, dodged, doing all I could to try and break free from his encirclement, only to run straight into him. With a pop, I sailed over a fist that made the air crack, a twist and spin had me avoid a hastily thrown star, a flip as I hit the ground to avoid a kick from that came out of that very same star.

The moment I landed, I’d broken the encirclement. However, I was no closer to actually beating Black Hawk.

“Whew, that was impressive, you almost got me!” He announced, giving me a peace sign of all things. It was infuriating and yet…

The ice kept me cool. My eyes easily took in my surroundings, bit and pieces of recent events came to the fore of my mind.

He was limited in what he could project over his throwing stars. Limited by the number of limbs he had on hand. When he had projected that last kick, his own leg had dissipated into fuzzy motes, only to reconvene around the star, or perhaps from within the star.

Also, the number of stars were equally limited. In order to form new ones, he had to recall the ones already in action. However, if he didn’t recall them, they would continue to sit, acting as potential ambush points.

That, and his density control was a bit more nuanced than it first appeared. Boosting his density made him stronger, yes, but it meant he could be hit. Reducing his density made him able to ignore or brush off most blows as they harmlessly went through him.

Adding in everything else… well… this wasn’t going to be an easy fight. But that was fine, after all, now it was time for a comeback, of sorts.

I loaded my rifle and Black Hawk retrieved his stars, essentially resetting the battlefield, only, with one clear difference.

I was now prepared. In a burst, I fired the entirety of what was in my rifle. Each bullet hissed, and Black Hawk retaliated by chucking throwing stars in my direction.

This time, I wasn’t caught off-guard, deftly avoiding them as some slammed into the ground around me, and others began to drift and float, encircling, whereas a few others impacted my bullets mid-flight. As for my bullets, they exploded, filling the air with cold rime that crackled as it made itself known.

In a matter of seconds, the entire area around Black Hawk was suffused with my frosted fog, granting me some sense of where he was, and also, suppressing his own abilities by a measure. I followed up by throwing down a smoke grenade, it hissed and spat out more rime, filling the room completely.

My own senses sharpened, the air was disturbed as a series of punches and kicks came out of the surrounding stars. With a spin, a turn, I avoided them, blades cutting through the ground as I worked. In the midst of it, a fist came from above, and with a twist, a turn became a sweeping kick as the blade at the bottom of my feet cut into the upper arm. All the while the fist came close, brushing past my leg.

It didn’t dissipate, to my shock. Even as the blade drew blood, the hand clamped down on my leg, anchoring me in place. A leg came from the side, I tried to move, using the hand for what it was, an anchor and twisted myself out of the way. The kick missed, but…

The hand let go, sending me free-falling. Before I could recover, a fist appeared from below, even as I tried my best, it connected into my side. Ribs shattered, the entire side of my body crackled and broke as the absurdly dense fist met my frozen body.

The force of the blow would have been enough to tear me into two, but the uniform absorbed the brunt of the blow, and what it couldn’t was further taken by the ice covering me. Whether or not that was a mercy I couldn’t tell. Even with a shattered side, I didn’t have the luxury to sit idle.

More stars came towards me, forcing me to bolt. I moved and weaved, ice fortifying what was broken, allowing me to move with seemingly no trouble. Every step I made, every move calculated to an extent.

More rime filled the air as I prepared, as I made myself ready.

Which was when Éclair spoke out, “I suggest you dodge.” Her words, were not aimed at me. After all, throughout the fight the battlefield had been moving, shifting along with me. Giving me plenty of time to place down mines, to plot out the field of battle.

And now, everything was about to be set into motion. Éclair’s words came at the perfect time. Black Hawk had about been ready to throw himself into a mine, had he not heard her warning, surely it would have done some serious damage. As it was, her warning alerted him to his imminent danger, but not fast enough to prevent him triggering said mine.

A loud ting filled the air, and with it came the sound of the mine exploding, sending crystalline shards of ice in every direction.

Black Hawk avoided the worst of it by throwing himself aside, but he’d failed to fully secure his body as shards punched into un-empowered flesh. Luckily for him, his uniform reduced the severity of his injuries, but it was only the beginning.

That brief lapse was enough for me to close the distance. That was when he hesitated. Even through his helmet, I felt it. His senses, unlike mine, were not ice. His mind wandered, struggled to take in everything whereas I… I was fully in control.

Taken aback by the sudden explosion, by my sudden approach, he stuttered briefly. Enough for me get close enough to thrust my bayonet, on instinct he flitted back, right into another mine. As it went off, he tried to reduce the brunt of it by decreasing his density, allowing the shrapnel to simply pass through him without any obstacle, but I followed up with a series of concussive grenades.

The damage was significant. He hurriedly increased his density, eating a few ricocheting shards of ice that filled the air in process. I followed up with a salvo of bullets, each shrill, screaming. His increased density made him easy prey to my piercing bullets as they drilled through his durable body.

Mistake after mistake. Compounding, building, granting me more leverage as I pushed and disoriented him. Every step moved him into another mine or trap, or was followed by explosives and bullets, or the point of my bayonet.

At this rate I’d win. The scales shifted, the tide turned. Black Hawk found himself struggling. Forcing him to recall his throwing stars, chucking them at me randomly, but lacking in control or decisiveness, merely poor attempts to throw me off.

Unfortunately for him, my blood was cold. My body ice. My heart, it beat steadily, without a hint of worry. I was like a hunter, closing on their prey. Slowly, the net closed, the injuries grew, and with it, his desperation.

There was only one problem…

A little, itty-bitty problem. It wasn’t enough. The little bit of room Éclair had given him, that initial warning had given him just enough space. Enough space, that at the precipice, with his body on the brink, instead of shattering, something else happened.

In the midst of the storm of action, of event after event made to break him, shatter him. He had just enough sense to pull together everything and retaliate. He did not run. No. Like a cornered rabbit, being chased by a hound, he paused, he re-evaluated, and he turned his teeth upon the hound. With a cry, a roar, he hurtled himself at me. And all at once, the veneer shattered.

Retreat and lose. Push forward and contest. Those were the options. Spar or not, it mattered little. Not now. Not anymore. With grit teeth, I braced. His fist came fast and hard, cracking into the body of my rifle, making the stock crick and crack. I had tried to redirect the blow and had only barely managed. Allowing me to transition into a kick, arcing my feet up to allow the blades at the sole of my feet to cut into his body and carving into his helmet, shattering the glass to reveal one of his eyes from within the helmet, boring into me.

Our eyes met, no longer blocked by the visor. And in that moment, even through the ice, I felt it. As our wills clashed, as the entities deep within, one deep within the icy depths, the other, buried under an endlessly dense darkness. As both… bared their fangs at one another.

Like a spark to gunpowder, we moved. Muscles and bodies rippled and cracked. Silver blades cracked and broke upon supernaturally dense flesh. Fist met flesh harder than ancient ice. Each blow, each follow through was brutal. We did everything we could, a retreat cost me dearly, but bought me the time I needed to chuck a piercing grenade into the sky, the resulting blast scored a crippling wound on Black Hawk’s body, but even then, he continued, as did I.

The two of us moved, danced. He followed me as I twisted and turned, as I moved and danced. His body shifting and moving in impossible ways as he distorted and shifted his mass. It was mesmerizing. The way the world glittered, as darkness met ice.

The harder blows were dodged, or offset by rime being condensed into shields, taking the brunt of the blow. Lighter blows were eaten, cracking bone and frozen flesh. Our uniforms struggled as the cold burnt at his form, as supernaturally dense flesh beat into my smaller frame, shaking free the ice in my bones and blood.

There were no tricks. Only two beasts clashing, dancing a dance of death. Neither of us were willing to give in, neither of us willing to stop.

And all at once, it came to an end. A draw? I wouldn’t even call it that. A full cessation of combat, brought on by the total loss of power was more like it. Neither of us had won, but it was clear, we’d both lost.

Our uniforms broke apart, leaving us in a sprawled mess. Both panting, sweating, hearts pounding. Only after a good minute, as energy came back to our limbs did we pull apart. Neither satisfied with the outcome.

What joviality Black Hawk was gone, replaced with something I understood all too well. A festering need to be the best. To overcome the trial before them.

As we stared at one another, someone clapped their hands, breaking the tension. Glancing over, the source was not Éclair, no, it was someone else.

“A good fight.” They, no, he said. The person, I knew him.

““Roman”” We growled, both Black Hawk and I. We shared a glance and went back to the man dressed like a roman legionnaire. Leather skirt and all. He gave us a predatory grin, exposing teeth, like a wolf seeing lambs.

“I was curious when the Raiju mentioned spars. Honestly, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but… this looks like fun. What do you say to me joining in?” He asked, but… it was more like he was telling us, a demand.

Glancing over, there was Éclair, and her answer, was to throw us a bunch of coins and a thumbs up.

Black Hawk and I shared a glance, but… our hearts were hammering, the only thought on our mind was to keep fighting, to keep pushing. And really, the two of us against Roman? How would that go? I was curious, and I wanted to see. Even as the ice thickened, drowning everything else out, I swallowed the coins, as Black Hawk did his. And with that, once more, we transformed and readied ourselves.