Dorian sat on a bench at the edge of arena. Leg over leg, arms crossed. Two kids stood across from each other in the center. Neither moved.
"Well? Who's first?" Dorian muttered.
Some kid on the left, armor so big on him it looked like he stole it from his dad, just raised his hand. "I surrender!" Didn't even wait for a signal or anything.
Other kid just stood there. Mouth open. Didn't even get a chance to do shit.
"Ha." Dorian shook his head. "That one didn't even try."
Next pair. Two girls. One had a wand, other had nothing. Girl with the wand waved it around like a fan, tiny spark fell out the tip. Didn't even reach the opponent. Both just froze. Five seconds of that, and the one without a weapon turned around and left.
"Don't even know what to say." Dorian leaned his back against the wall.
Five more fights. Six. Seven. He stopped counting. Most were done in under thirty seconds. Someone tripped over their own feet, someone straight up ran away crying, one dude tried throwing a fire spell but got smoke and a smell like burnt toast instead.
"This is the test?" Dorian scratched his temple. "Seriously?"
He looked left. Ezekiel was sitting there watching every single fight like it was some kind of championship final. Eyes wide, mouth hanging open, sometimes even smacking his own knee when someone got a hit in.
"You're really enjoying this huh?" Dorian asked.
"Of course! This is real combat!" Ezekiel didn't even turn.
"Real combat my ass." Dorian looked at him. "See that kid? He cried cuz his opponent called him ugly."
"Well... emotional damage counts too."
Dorian slowly turned his head toward Ezekiel. Stared at him for a good three seconds.
"What?!" his voice cracked. "NO. It doesn't. What the fuck is wrong with you."
He turned away. Closed his eyes. Boring. None of these kids ever held a weapon before. Half of them weren't even trying to become fighters. They came for the magic exam. But rules said everyone goes through combat test. Healer, scholar, didn't matter. You step into arena.
Pointless.
He knew why they did it though. Wasn't about the fighting. Teachers were watching. How you react when someone stands in front of you wanting to hit you. How you move. What you do when you lose. Do you give up normal, or do you cry, or do you do something dumb.
Dorian knew all this because last time around this test destroyed him. He didn't know how to use a sword back then either. Still doesn't. Some noble kid in full gear hit him once and he went flying. Lay on the ground staring up, face burning, whole arena laughing.
And that noble kid's name was Gareth Whitmore.
His eyes flashed gold for a second.
"Not this time." he said quiet.
"What?" Ezekiel looked at him.
"Nothing."
More fights. More surrenders. One kid with two swords wasn't bad actually, at least he knew which end to swing. But the other guy used earth magic. Just lifted the floor right under him. Sword kid fell sideways, came out with a broken wrist.
"Ouch." Dorian said. Flat. Zero emotion.
"You're a very cold person." Ezekiel said.
"Thanks."
Then two names showed up and something in the crowd changed. Even Dorian cracked one eye open.
[Cedric Ashford vs Helena Voss]
Both noble. Both walked into arena like they owned it. Cedric had some rapier, thin, ice runes on the blade. Helena had a staff almost bigger than her, silver wire at the top pulsing blue.
Dorian looked for maybe three seconds. Closed his eyes.
Fight started quick. Cedric went in first, fast steps, rapier going for the chest. Helena smashed her staff into the ground, ice wall shot up between them. He went around. She already had something else ready. Blue flash from the staff, cold air, frost on the ground under his feet. He slipped. Caught himself. Pushed forward anyway.
Both knew what they were doing. Obviously trained since they were kids.
Dorian couldn't care less.
He could hear it though. Metal scraping ice. Cracking sounds. Helena shouting something about Cedric being "too predictable." Crowd went crazy over something, probably a close hit. Ezekiel next to him was grabbing his sleeve, shaking him.
"Are you seeing this?!"
"No." Eyes still closed.
"How can you not watch?! She just froze his sword arm!"
"Wake me when it's over."
Fight went on for four minutes. Long compared to the rest. Helena won when Cedric couldn't hold the rapier anymore cuz his hand was frozen solid. Sword hit the ground. Clean fight. Both walked away fine. Polite nods and all that noble bullshit.
"Nobles playing with nobles." Dorian muttered. "Expensive toys against expensive toys."
Twenty more minutes. Ten more fights. Each one worse than the last. Dorian was almost out cold when Ezekiel punched his shoulder.
"Yooooo! That's your name!"
Dorian opened his eyes. Two names in the sky.
[Dorian Vale vs Gareth Whitmore]
He almost turned to Ezekiel to say he's done. That he wants to surrender. Tired. Don't care. Mouth was already opening.
Then he read the last name again.
Whitmore.
Mouth closed.
"Now that's... personal." Dorian said quiet, cracking his knuckles.
Looked at arena. Someone was already standing there. Tall. Wide shoulders. Full armor, neck to knees. Wyvern hide layered with metal plates on shoulder and chest. Family crest on a chain around neck. Shield in left hand, short sword in right. Thick blade. Heavy. Runes along the edge, glowing weak orange.
Noble. This fucker came prepared.
Name didn't ring any bells. Previous life, he didn't know this guy. Or maybe he did and just forgot. Too many noble families. But whatever. Whitmore. Noble. That was enough.
Dorian got up. Grabbed grandfather's katana. Fingers around handle.
"Good luck!" Ezekiel smacked him on the back. Dorian didn't even look at him. Started walking.
Steps were slow. Calm. Around him kids were watching, whispering shit. He caught bits. "That's the guy who fell asleep..." and "Look what he's wearing..." and something about how Whitmore family got four high rank hunters in it.
Didn't give a shit.
He stopped in center of arena. Gareth across from him. The difference was stupid obvious. Gareth looked like a soldier. Dorian looked like some random kid who showed up to the wrong place. Black Dungeon rat leather clothes, grandfather's katana older than him.
Gareth looked him up and down. Not like he hated him. More like he was bored already. Like he already knew how it ends.
"You're the one who fell asleep during written test?" Gareth asked.
"And you're the one who brought daddy's armor to fight kids?" Dorian shot back.
Gareth smiled. Wasn't a nice smile.
"I seriously advise you to surrender." he said, raising his sword. Blade down, stance loose but ready. "No point in getting hurt."
Dorian said nothing. Just lifted katana. Pointed it at Gareth. One hand. Lazy.
"No?" Gareth asked.
"No."
Gareth gave a small nod. Something shifted in his eyes. The boredom left. What came instead wasn't anger. It was focus. Shield came up, sword pulled tight to body. Back foot slid, weight moved.
This wasn't some kid pretending. This one actually knew how to fight.
Dorian saw it.
And for the first time today, he smiled.