Chapter Two: Fire Beneath the Split (Part Six)
Date: May 22, Year 204 PCR (Maelis 22)
Location: Trial Arena – Harmonic Lyceum
Time: Midday
Selka's hand lingered.
Not in dominance. Not in pity.
Just stillness.
Vessa knelt at the center of the ring, breath ragged but even, gaze locked forward. Her weapon lay forgotten beside her, its pulse threads long since extinguished. The hum of her Veilmark had faded into the stone.
The arena didn't cheer.
No one moved.
Because the silence Selka left in her wake didn't invite celebration.
It invited reflection.
The pulse field around the perimeter shifted, a soft tone rippling through the glyph towers overhead. The lead instructor stood, voice steady:
"VICTORY — SELKA."
Still, she didn't rise her head. Didn't turn to the crowd. Her eyes stayed locked on Vessa's back. And slowly, Selka lowered her hand.
Her glyph folded into itself.
The light unwound like a ribbon burned clean to the end. The silver trail faded, and all that remained was a girl—breathing, steady, silent.
Selka turned away from the downed opponent and walked toward the line of waiting students. Her boots left no mark.
Vessa didn't look up. But she did speak.
"You could've ended me in one move."
Selka paused mid-step. She didn't turn.
"You could've fought with stillness instead of fear."
Vessa exhaled—something between a laugh and a breath that hurt to give away.
"Thanks for the lesson."
Selka kept walking.
Kaelen, now standing straighter, watched her approach with something like acknowledgment in his eyes. Yolti gave a short nod.
Zephryn didn't move.
He just watched her. Closely.
Because something had changed.
Not in her power. Not in her execution.
In her presence.
Like the silence she wielded wasn't just a weapon anymore.
It was a reminder.
A memory being held.
Selka returned to her position. Her hands folded at her side. No sound, no pride.
Only stillness.
And from the shadows beneath Zephryn's ribs, Bubbalor stirred again.
Once. Low.
Not for danger.
For recognition.
"The fight was never about dominance," Zephryn murmured. "It was about what echoes after."
Yolti cracked his knuckles.
"Good," he said softly. "Then mine's going to be loud."
The instructor's voice returned overhead.
"NEXT MATCH:
YOLTI.
KALLIEN."
The arena shifted again. Dust settling.
Selka closed her eyes.
Zephryn watched Yolti walk forward, shoulders relaxed, jaw clenched.
And somewhere beneath it all—beneath the floor, beneath the glyphs, beneath the silence itself—
The memory stirred.
And the Trial continued.