Valerie led them into the training room deep in the bowels of the Moontower, pivoted hard left, and strode straight to the far end of the space. Lucas’ gaze strayed to the succulent plant that still rested in the right-most corner as he moved to stand against the wall directly across from the door, but Valerie quickly drew his attention before he could worry too much about it.

  “We’re going to spar,” she said, her icy stare pinned on Florence.

  The red-haired skycloak blinked a few times as she made her way into the room, coming to a stop only a few paces inside the door. “Why down here? Surely it would be better to use one of the trainings rooms designed for such things.”

  “Privacy,” Valerie said. “I still intend to ask you some questions.”

  “And you want to spar at the same time?” Florence sighed. “What’s going through that impenetrable head of yours, Val? What are you doing?”

  “I think that will become clear.” Valerie glanced briefly at Lucas. “I’m afraid today’s training will be temporarily delayed, Ser James. I apologise for the inconvenience.”

  “It’s fine,” Lucas said. Technically, he was aware he could order her to put a stop to whatever scheme she was playing and reveal her intentions outright, but he found himself curious what Valerie was up to, here. There had to be a reason for this.

  He discounted the possibility that she just wanted to beat up her comrade due to some dramatic history between them. She didn’t seem the type.

  “Good,” Valerie said, and without another word placed her hand over her heart, as he’d seen her do far too many times up to now. There was a glow beneath her hand, and she seemed to reach into it, her fingers grasping around a hilt that hadn’t been there a moment ago. In one swift movement, she slashed her arm downwards, instantly drawing a white longsword that was twice the length of her arm. Faint runic patterns danced along the flat of the blade, and it started to glow a lunar white, drawing power from her heart. She held it up, pointing the tip towards Florence.

  In Florence’s place, Lucas would’ve been quaking in his Order-issued boots. The other skycloak wasn’t so easily intimidated, though—or was just used to facing Valerie’s deadly blade—and stared her down with a flat look. “Why do I get the feeling I’m going to have to take this rather more seriously than a typical spar?” she asked dryly.

  “Your instincts do you credit,” Valerie said, still holding up her sword. It didn’t even waver, despite surely having to be a heavy weapon.

  Florence rolled her eyes and sighed. “So be it,” she said, and she turned on her heel to take a position on the opposite side of the room from Valerie. “How are we doing this, Vayon? Academy style?”

  “Until surrender,” Valerie said.

  Florence raised a red eyebrow. “Are you sure that’s wise? We’ve not seen much of each other in the past few years, but I’m relatively confident neither of us has suddenly developed a willingness to concede defeat. Especially to each other.”

  “It’s good that you recognise your flaws,” Valerie said, “but I’m somewhat counting on your stubbornness, today.”

  “My stubbornness.” Florence scoffed, then shook her head. She looked at Lucas. “You’ll want to get comfortable, Ser James. We’re going to be here for quite some time, I imagine.”

  Lucas couldn’t stop looking between them, like he was watching a tennis match. “Is it even safe for me to be in the room?”

  “Neither of us are amateur enough to let our techniques stray in your direction,” Valerie said.

  “It could be said you’re standing in one of the safest places in the whole of Dawnguard,” Florence drawled. He couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic. “I meant it when I said you should get comfortable. You’ve nothing to worry about, unless you greatly value your free time. I can’t imagine this ridiculous woman gives you much of it as it is.”

  “Stop stalling,” Valerie said. “Draw your weapon.”

  Florence sighed, tilting her head back and glaring at the ceiling. She muttered something scathing-sounding to herself, though Lucas didn’t catch any of her words. When she aligned her gaze on Valerie once more, there was a blazing determination in her eyes. “Come on then, Vayon. It’s been too long since I had the chance to display my superiority over you.”

  What happened next was almost too fast for Lucas to follow. It was only after the initial clash that he was able to piece together some idea of what had happened.

  Florence snapped her hand to her heart and back down in a motion so fast it blurred. At the same time, Valerie had lunged forward, crossing the few dozen meters between them in the blink of an eye, like her sword had been fired from a cannon and pulled her along with it by the arm. It speared straight for Florence’s heart, aiming for whatever she sought to draw from there, but Florence pivoted her upper body out of the way, slashing upwards with her right hand.

  Her right hand, that now held a glaive with a glittering ruby blade, its black haft filigreed in a floral pattern. If she’d placed its butt on the ground, the full thing would have been taller than her, but she swung it like it weighed nothing, brutally aiming to cleave Valerie up the middle.

  Of course, Valerie saw it coming, and simply stepped aside, using her momentum to turn the failed stab into a lateral slash. Florence countered in much the same way, simultaneously side-stepping and raising her glaive to a horizontal position, blocking Valerie’s blow and giving herself room to manoeuvre.

  Neither of them were willing to give ground, to take even a single step backwards, and so their battle quickly descended into a twirling dance as they circled one another, trading lightning-fast blows, striking at like vipers and dodging with the reflexes and precision of cats. They never closed within a metre or so of each other, their defences and offences keeping them equally at bay.

  Lucas blinked, firmly awe-struck by the spectacle. It was like watching a dance. The clang of their weapons striking at each other echoed through the room like great gongs, accompanied by the whistle of their attacks slicing through the air. He’d seen Valerie in battle before, of course, but never like this, wielding her weapon with such incredible precision. And the fact someone was matching her blew his mind.

  It was far beyond the peak of human ability as he’d previously understood it. On Earth, the feats he was witnessing would easily be considered superhuman. Here, they were… Well, he was going to call it a friendly spar, but he wasn’t sure either term was accurate. There was definitely something here he was missing, and he wasn’t sure it was a cultural matter.

  The two combatants had their eyes locked on each other, and he got the feeling the rest of the world had fallen away for them. There was something being communicated in this bout, but he couldn’t guess at what. They spun around each other, pirouetted, attacked, blocked, parried, countered, their blades blurring.

  No magical techniques were thrown, thankfully, the moonlight glow of Valerie’s blade remaining in place, when it easily could have swept out in a crescent arc. Florence, too, evidently had some kind of ability ready, twinkling motes of light following the ruby blade of her glaive like afterimages. They burst out every time her blade met Valerie’s, like a blacksmith hammering against metal.

  Lucas couldn’t say how long this went on. It could have been hours—they certainly exchanged enough blows to fill up a training session that lasted that long—but was surely only a handful of seconds. At some unseen signal, their attacks stopped, but neither backed away, instead continuing to circle, their eyes locked together. Their blades rested against one another, sparking and hissing, but not striking.

  After the cacophony of their rapid exchange, the silence that descended on the room was heavy. Lucas found himself riveted, watching with wide eyes, barely daring to blink. He didn’t want to miss a moment.

  Florence was the first to break the tension, snorting. Not a strand of her red hair had strayed out of place, her breaths came calm and easy, and there wasn’t a hint of damage on her armour or cloak. She looked for all the world like she hadn’t just been locked in deadly combat with a comrade.

  “At least some things don’t change,” Florence said.

  “Some things,” Valerie agreed.

  Florence’s eyes narrowed. Her glaive raised a fraction. “Out with it, already,” she snapped. “Unless you’re trying to distract me with worries over what in the five hells is going through your head? I never took you for the underhanded type, but perhaps things have changed indeed.”

  “I think you have some idea already,” Valerie said, raising her own blade. It had been pointed at Florence’s heart, and now it was aimed at her head. “Show me that skull of yours isn’t completely empty.”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Florence bared her teeth in an expression that seemed to struggle to decide between a snarl and a grin. Her green eyes blazed. When she spoke, there was a note of soft danger in her voice, “Are you questioning my loyalty, Captain Vayon?”

  “I’m questioning many things,” Valerie said evenly, undaunted.

  “Oh, but I know you.” Florence paused, tilting her head. “Much as you don’t like to admit it, there are many in the Order who don’t quite believe in its stated objectives as strongly as our predecessors did in the past. Some even say they should be changed.”

  “I have no trouble admitting it.”

  “But you hate it. The Order should believe more than anyone, and yet they seem to be giving up! Unforgivable, yes?”

  Valerie said nothing.

  “And you’re wondering how I feel about it all. You’ve spent most of your time since the academy on the front lines, fighting against demons, holding back the Blight, seeing for yourself what the Order should really be focused on.” Florence scoffed. “Meanwhile, I’ve been running missions domestically, living a life of comparative luxury. That’s what you think, isn’t it?”

  “I do not believe you live in luxury,” Valerie said.

  “Comparatively,” Florence emphasised. “And the most important part is what I’m surrounded by, isn’t it? Other skycloaks who barely see the front lines, probably haven’t fought against anything more dangerous than a B-rank beast, all whispering and grumbling about the Order’s objectives, believing Lucas Brown will never come, and we should officially change our modus operandi, since barely anyone believes in it anyway.”

  “Is that how you feel, Florence?”

  Finally, Florence came to a stop, and Valerie matched her. They kept their weapons levelled towards one another, but remained utterly still for a long moment. “Are you questioning my loyalty to Lady Claire, specifically?”

  “Not necessarily,” Valerie said.

  “You think there’s even the slightest possibility I’ll betray her, somehow.” Her eyes narrowed to slits, showing only a slither of her green eyes. They seemed to glow. “What did you discover out there on your mission, Val? What has you questioning me, of all people? You know me!”

  “I knew you many years ago,” Valerie said. “I don’t know you now.”

  “I haven’t changed,” Florence said.

  “We’ll see about that.”

  And then the battle was rejoined, far more ferocious than it had been before. They held nothing back, this time. Florence dodged one of Valerie’s moonlight slashes by barely a hair, and stabbed out with her glaive, the haft lengthening twice over, aimed at Valerie’s feet. Valerie was forced to hop over the attack, but Florence followed, and the sparks her ruby blade was forming seemed to give chase as well. When Valerie batted the blade aside, the sparks kept coming, and she was forced to waste the second moonlight attack she’d been gathering on dispelling them.

  Things rather devolved from there. Lucas barely dared to move, with all the techniques that were being thrown around. Even Jamie the monstercat, who’d spent most of its time since arriving in Dawnguard inert as if trying not to draw any attention to itself, stirred to life, intrigued by the commotion.

  Comparatively, the initial battle they’d been through might actually have been a friendly one after all. Now, they were really tearing up the room, Valerie’s destructive moonlight slashes and beams competing with Florence’s stone-sizzling sparks to see who could do the most damage.

  At some point, he started to wonder if they were doing it on purpose. There never seemed to be any true danger of hurting each other. Even as their techniques became more constructive and deadly, it only resembled a carefully choreographed dance all the more; it was like they knew what their opponent was going to do before they did it.

  There were a few hitches, like when Valerie used her sword mirroring technique, or when Florence stabbed her glaive into the stone floor and somehow launched a hail of sparks that Valerie was forced to dodge. But even then, the danger barely lasted a moment.

  This battle lasted much longer than the last. To the point where Lucas somehow started to feel somewhat inoculated to the inherent fear of standing on the sidelines while two immensely powerful individuals hurled magical techniques at each other just a few metres away. He grew enough in confidence that they wouldn’t hit him that he ended up lowering himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged.

  When they finally broke apart once more, they were at least breathing heavily, and there was a hint of sweat on each of their foreheads. That was good, Lucas felt. He would’ve felt woefully inadequate if they’d gone through all that without breaking a sweat.

  There was another moment of silence, and then, for reasons he couldn’t hope to discern, they dispelled their weapons and simultaneously took two long steps away from each other, and bowed at the same time. Whatever they’d gotten out of that exchange, there was something more relaxed in both their stares, though they were still focused on each other.

  “There are several factions outside the Moontower who plot harm against the Great Five,” Valerie said.

  “You’ve already told me this,” Florence said. “You’ve already told Lady Claire this. What has you so concerned?” She narrowed her eyes. “Do you believe these groups have infiltrated the order?”

  “I have no concrete reason to believe it. I couldn’t name any individual I believed to be compromised,” Valerie said. “But at this crucial time, I have no choice but to be suspicious of the possibility. I do not know who I can trust here, Florence.”

  “You can trust me,” Florence said, stepping forward, a hand resting on her heart. Lucas felt that gesture seemed rather strange if it was meant to convey sincerity, considering what she could do with it. Maybe it was meant to signify that she could draw her weapon with her hand there, but the fact she hadn’t proved her honesty?

  Valerie just stared her down, expressionless.

  “What did you find out there that has you thinking this way? Where did you go?”

  “It’s more a matter of who I worked with,” Valerie said after a pause. “A man named Jyn Sakhelyan, a pyromancer from the College of Wands.”

  “The College is involved in this?”

  “Possibly. It’s hard to say. Either way, he confirmed for me that his group, Darkstar, seek to steal the power of the Great Five for themselves. Whether or not it’s possible, the fact remains that their attempts to do so will undoubtedly cause unnecessary death and damage, at a time when we can simply not afford it.”

  Florence clicked her tongue. “Darkstar. What an awful name.”

  “Agreed.”

  “And you really thought there was even the slightest possibility I would work with such a group?” Florence asked with a glare.

  “Yes,” Valerie said simply. “The chances were minute, I admit, but they existed.”

  “And do you trust me now?”

  “Yes,” Valerie said, and only she and Lucas knew how blatantly she was lying. He felt a little guilty at that.

  “Good,” Florence said with a nod. “So what do you actually want to do, Val? What are you planning?”

  “I don’t trust you that much, yet.”

  Florence sighed, shoulders slumping. Her eyes turned heavenward, undoubtedly beseeching whatever gods this world believed in for strength.

  “I want to know your thoughts on some things,” Valerie continued. “I want to know what you think about the Great Five. About the Order of Five’s goals. About everything.”

  “Why don’t you come up with some difficult questions, while you’re at it?” Florence grumbled, still looking upwards. She shook her head and closed her eyes, letting her chin drop to her chest. “To be honest, I haven’t given much personal thought to it. Does that disturb you? The idea of not thinking much about the future of the war probably sounds disrespectful, to someone who’s spent so much time fighting it.”

  “I don’t like it,” Valerie said, “but I understand. Avoiding problems cannot solve them, but it’s all too human to do so.”

  “I hear people talk, of course. And it’s not like their words never make me think.” Florence’s lips twisted, like she wasn’t sure whether to smile or frown. When she opened her eyes, the usually vibrant green looked oddly dulled. “I do find myself wondering if it’s even possible to win, if we keep going as we are. What do I think about the Five Heroes? Well, only one of them is active, right now, isn’t she? And you know her a lot better than I do. I haven’t exchanged more than a few words with her.”

  “She’s doing her best, I can assure you of that.”

  “But she’s working alone, isn’t she?” Florence shook her head. “I’d never consider going against her, or trying to steal her power, or whatever nonsense these people think they can do. And I’d hope the same could be said of all skycloaks. Whatever else you can say about her, she’s spent a hundred years fighting for us, never giving up.” She sighed. “I honestly don’t have much of an opinion on the others. Don’t even know what’s fact or fiction about them. Still don’t think I’d go against them, either. But I wouldn’t necessarily treat their orders as sacrosanct as I would Lady Claire’s.”

  Valerie gave the slightest frown. “That does not give me confidence in you.”

  “You’d be a lot less confident in me if I lied,” Florence said with a jerky shrug that was all but nonchalant. “As for the Order? I don’t mind the whole Lord Lucas obsession as much as many seem to. I can understand some have given up on him ever showing up, to be frank, but I can also see why others still choose to believe in it. To be honest, I reckon I’d give him a chance if he finally arrived. Not like it’s his fault he’s a hundred years late, is it?”

  Lucas carefully didn’t react to any of that, staying cross-legged on the floor, chin propped up on one fist. If they hadn’t been so careful to avoid any of their attacks flying in his direction—taking advantage of there being a zone they couldn’t launch attacks towards, even—he might have thought they’d forgotten he was there at all.

  “Can I count on you to protect the Heroes and the Order from enemies, Florence?” Valerie asked.

  Florence blinked, then scowled. “Of course. What do you take me for?!” She blinked again, her scowl turning to a look of confusion. “Though, again, I can’t think of anyone who could really threaten the Heroes.”

  “Nothing is certain, and no one is invincible. We don’t know what these groups, the Darkstar or any others, are planning. It’s entirely possible they’re formulating a scheme that would take Lady Claire off guard.”

  “Or Lord James?”

  Valerie grimaced, her eyes briefly flicking to Lucas. “Yes. Or him.”

  Lucas had already been observing the conversation closely, his gaze panning back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. At that, his attention snapped to Valerie and stayed there. “Lord James? Do you know where he is?” he asked.

  Valerie’s sigh was an answer on its own.

  Discord :)