It spun without effort, starting at the centre, gathering a little more with every turn – speed, mass, just a little. It moved from the centre to the other parts, and then to the centre again. The sphere pulsated, at its fastest now. It shone with a pure, unblemished, silver colour, and expanded in an irregular rhythm. From the abdomen, the aeter spread to the limbs, the neck, and slowly, to the head as well.
Rollo felt his body burn from the collection, in a state of calm. With a deep breath, he directed the flow of his aeter to the bracelet on his arm. He eyed the item and noticed it rattle, with a crack and then more. He frowned and reeled the sphere to a smaller size, steadying the circulation of his aeter in reaction to the bracelet. His heart eased when the item fell into rest, dousing its glow through the process.
“Isn’t this too little?” thought Rollo, in assessment of the bracelet. “I hate that it’s the only way for me to blend in with this rowdy bunch. How annoying.”
Rollo straightened his back and boasted a proud appearance, almost regal even. His shoulders drooped immediately after, almost mockingly, with a spear in one arm. He cocked his head and nodded at Valaris.
“I’m ready!” said Rollo, affirmatively. He turned towards Daiden and added, “I told you I would take care of this for you.”
***
Valaris rubbed his eyes with frustration and shifted his gaze from one combatant to the other. He wondered about the provocation but shook away from the thought at the sight of something unusual – merely a flicker. His eyes caught a glimpse of a strange aeter form, in a clear silver colour.
“Hoh?” whispered Valaris, out loud. He masked a smile and observed Rollo for some time. “He is a…Nis? No. He’s much more, much more complicated. Strange!”
The Senior Knight turned to Moran as well. “Well, I see no point in holding the Karsman back anymore. This should make for an interesting contest.”
***
Moran grinned viciously once freed from the shackles of needing permission. He confirmed it with the Senior Knight once more and then launched into a sprint. His feet hastened, in trained patterns, towards the silver-haired individual. He tightened around his grip and fell into an orthodox stance, shifting weight to thrust his spear in a straight direction.
The blade zipped through the winds but repelled from its path instead, beyond the control of its wielder. It struck nothing but air, in a wasted attack that left Moran open for retaliation. He felt a quick stab follow, around his shoulder, tearing into his flesh without mercy. On reflex, the Karsman leaned back a little to avoid greater damage and retreated in haste to a safe distance.
The short individual noticed Rollo look at his spear in amusement. He felt his blood curdle at the sight. He shook his head fiercely and focused, forcing his heart to ease from the rage. With care, he dragged his feet in inches and blinked. He gulped, with Rollo in front of him still. His feet then moved, in another sprint. He leapt and swung his spear with a more constrained stance but noticed his blade twist from control once more. Moran bit his lip to restrain a shout and trained his eyes on Rollo. He heard it then.
“Do you want me to move slowly for you?” asked Rollo, with a wry smile. “Wait, that would be a waste of time. I can simply explain what I’m doing, if you wish.”
“Shut it!” barked Moran, steadying with his feet on the ground. “I’ll figure you out…I’ll figure you out and pound you like the little bitch you are.”
“So violent!” remarked Rollo. “You know, I once rescued a dog that had lost her puppies. Not to any accident, interestingly. She was tied to a log, forced to watch, as some of the older children beat her puppies to death. They left her there after the incident, to rot in her misery.”
Rollo shrugged with a grim expression. “I suppose there’s little point to this story now. Ah, wait, there is a point. You…you remind me of them, those older bullies.”
“What?” blurted Moran, in puzzlement. He watched his adversary point at him, and then up. His eyes followed, to a spinning, silver, aeter sphere.
It buzzed in position, pulsated for a moment, and plummeted onto Moran’s face. He screamed in pain, with the heat searing away at his skin. His hands hastily slapped against the residual aeter, in vain. He gritted against the adversity, nonetheless, handling his spear to navigate a portion of his aeter to the defensive. It veiled the invading aeter in a thin layer and separated from the face. Moran beamed at the result, heaving his breaths to a calm – scarred, in pain, but with anger as well. “No more!”
Moran rushed into an offensive again. He took a step, four more, and felt another force emerge from the ground this time. It exploded against his foot, breaking flesh and bone. The Karsman persisted, managing to extend his spear with some force, gripped around the end of the pole.
“Watch your step, watch your step! There are mines, everywhere!” exclaimed Rollo, giddily. “And yes, here comes the final performance!”
The shout startled Moran. He watched as the spear in opposition to his own moved in an arc from the ground to the sky and then back. It wove the presence of an almost invisible, translucent aeter film. The winds followed, from the arc of the spear to create a repulsive force. It clashed against Moran’s weapon, with enough strength to divert the trajectory of his blade.
Rollo smirked, in preparation for another offensive. He danced and swerved with his spear held horizontally against his body, smacking Moran with the back of his pole. His dominant foot stomped on the ground, propelling him for an attack that curved in a descent, slashing at the Karsman’s other shoulder. Rollo spun again, forming a small, silvered sphere. He flicked it, transforming his aeter-made sphere into a thinner, needle-like shape. The needle pierced Moran’s eye, forcing a blink, and the Rollo followed, connecting his first attack with repeated thrusts into open wounds – fast and in fluid motion.
“And down you go!” continued Rollo, pushing Moran to the ground. He tossed the spear and held it in reverse now, swinging without restraint. His arm hastened even after breaking past the Karsman’s resolve, echoing into a declaration.
Rollo stopped to laugh. He brushed the hair from his eyes and raised the back of his spear for another emphatic attack but paused in full tilt. He lowered to the Karsman’s face and cocked his head.
“Oh my, he appears to have lost consciousness,” revealed Rollo. He turned to Valaris, with his finger pointed at Moran, and asked, “Will this be enough to qualify?”
