THE APPLE OF SNAKES

lxv. winner take all

Nerluce had never understood Aristide's title better than he did now.

The other man stood across from him in the ring, back straight with pride and eyes half a glow. His battle against Coam had finished some time ago, so his breathing was even and his brow was dry but the afterglow that came with victory had yet to fade. Nerluce saw it in his every feature. It filled Aristide down to his bones and burned brighter than any flame either of them could create.

The Angel of Death. A beautiful, divine soldier who could kill five thousand men in the span of a breath. Nerluce had heard a hundred stories by now. He could see them in Aristide's skin and lashes. He could see his own memories in the gold rim of Aristide's eyes.

But Nerluce had never thought Aristide looked more unfamiliar.

This version of Aristide before Nerluce was a creature that had crawled from stories, still dripping in ink and words. He was monstrous. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Horrible. He was the perfect contrast of things. He'd always been like that but never in this way before. Nerluce wondered if this was what Doite felt like when they caught up to him, or if it was more similar to what the boy had felt before he died.

Nerluce swallowed. Aristide very much looked like he wanted to kill Nerluce. It was in the set of his jaw. The slight curl of his lips. The frigidness in his gaze. Hard and cold and divine. Nerluce had thought he was going to die the night he first met Aristide. Perhaps he had. Perhaps this whole thing had been one, long, drawn-out night where Aristide was going to kill him in the end.

Aristide called Kōttaiki. Nerluce had always loved this thin, ice blade that Aristide wielded. The thin, ice blade that could slice iron as easy as paper and would have no difficulty with his flesh. He'd always thought Kōttaiki was a beautiful weapon. Aristide was deserving of it and all its beauty. Its coldness was a good match for Aristide too. Nerluce could not imagine Aristide wielding any other weapon.

Or killing him with any other either.

The crowd surrounding them was filled with noise. People talking, trading coins and bets, people shuffling, pressing up against one another, people not paying attention at all, just relishing in the gossip that such an event created. It was a cacophony of noise. They overlapped and mixed together so Nerluce couldn't understand anything but he could hear all of it.

It was strange. Nerluce hadn't noticed the crowd in any of his other battles. He rarely heard things at all when he was fighting. The muteness of battle was one of the only joys that came with fighting. Nerluce didn't have to think, he just had to move.

And so, Nerluce just did. He called Ealatus. It answered him, forming in his hands. The crowd quieted some. Nerluce didn't know if it was because Ealatus caught their attention as Nerluce had yet to use it today or if by calling Ealatus Nerluce was able to enter his usual headspace. He didn't care. He was thankful for the quiet as he leveled his body and prepared himself. To fight and win or to die.

He didn't have to kill Aristide to win. He just needed Aristide to surrender. Gods knew if that was even possible.

The Empress gave her mark.

The match began.

Aristide was fast, faster than Nerluce. Nerluce snarled a curse as Kōttaiki sunk into his shoulder. It didn't burrow very deep before Nerluce caught the sword with one of his vines and melted it to a puddle with his flames. By this point, Aristide had called Kōttaiki again and was halfway to Nerluce.

Nerluce blocked. Ealatus melted right through Kōttaiki but did not reach Aristide. He twisted. Fast. Aristide was fast and he had another ice blade - not Kōttaiki but a dagger - and was coming for Nerluce again.