Inside a massive room just along the stretches of light from an open door, Quin and Wordy faced each other. Neither were intent to run away.

  The two undid their bottom clasps and sized the other up as smoke surrounded them.

  “I already said you were a bottom dweller and now, I will prove it,” Wordy stated as he wheeled around Quin.

  “I have Sentar’i blood and history going back hundreds of years. You are a speck of dust on tapestry. You have no place telling me what to do.”

  “People like you are the worst.” Quin retorted as he wrapped around Wordy.

  “You act all high and mighty, but only pick on the weak or people you think will back down. I’m not going to back down from you Preth.

  “Sooner or later, you’re going to get what’s coming to you. Might as well be now.”

  The two cloaks stood still in front of each other. The wounded Yerp looked on in silence, his one eye widened in disbelief.

  Done with their words, the two charged at one another. Both eager to put an end to their dispute.

  Both launched their fists. Both knocked them away. They moved round and round with rounds of punches. Sounds of fluttered cloaks traveled around the room along with assorted claps.

  Blocks and dodges. Ducks and misses. Neither had an opening. Both were dead set to find one.

  Wordy found his first when Quin went off balance.

  He went with a jab but missed; an entire side of his face was wide open. Wordy thrust an arm ahead but before he could reach, Quin shoved him away with a powerful burst of wind.

  Wordy’s back slid on the ground before he finally stopped. His eyes affixed to Quin who stayed where he stood with palms open ready to make another blast of wind, the [Gust Attack].

  As Quin kept his focus on Preth, he had to focus his sights more and more until Wordy faded in full view into the darkness. Quin lost track of him immediately.

  Knees slightly bent, Quin snapped around in every direction to spot Preth. He couldn’t do it in time.

  Out of nowhere, Quin felt a boot to his head and he flew to the floor.

  He coiled back to his feet and his eyes traced back to his prior position. He only saw the Yerp and the open entrance.

  Suddenly, his back took the brunt of a knee. He winced before he zipped around, but saw nobody.

  “I might be biased, but I like ghost arts most of all.” Quin heard to his right.

  “I especially like it at night.” he then heard to his left.

  “Even with some light...”

  Quin drew a [Gust] toward the voice. Nothing happened.

  “I’m still out of sight.”

  He sent another. Still nothing.

  “Meanwhile I can clearly see you,” Quin heard directly in front of him.

  On instinct, he swung a right hook. He felt nothing but air.

  The miss left him exposed again and this time, Wordy connected with a shot to the face that nearly turned Quin’s head around.

  He nearly landed on the Yerp as he rumbled against the floor. Disoriented, he needed a few seconds to get his bearings straight.

  “Um...sir?” called the Yerp, too startled to move from his spot.

  Quin got up to his hands and knees. He looked over to the kid next to him. The bruises and wounds on his face. It reminded him of the bruises and wounds he sustained back when he was a Yerp.

  He rolled his hands and returned to his feet. Off went his mask, tossed aside. His brows sloped sharply while his eyes focused intensely.

  He couldn’t see Wordy, but he couldn’t see most things in the Pit anyway. He remembered what Arelis told him, to rely less on his eyes and more on his other senses.

  He stood still and used his ears. For several seconds, silence filled the air. Then he heard a step to his right.

  With intuition and muscle memory to aid him, Quin successfully parried Wordy’s punch, swerved his wrists, and followed it with a jab that stopped in the air but definitely made contact.

  Wordy made an audible groan before he audibly backtracked. Quin chose patience and resumed his stance. Silence took over the scene again until his ears perked up to a sound in front.

  Quin swatted away Wordy’s stretched arm, hooked it with his own arm and with a pop of his hips, tossed over his transparent opponent.

  The floor made a thud and his ears picked up on grunts and breaths.

  Succumbed to anger, Wordy gave himself away as he let out a yell then charged at Quin.

  When the steps reached their closest, Quin unleashed a massive burst of wind. He heard a loud smack against a pillar and then the ground.

  Finally, a figure appeared. Wordy slowed to his feet as he leaned on the pillar for support.

  “You...bastard!” he uttered between groans. “I come from a Dequson line. I am not going to lose against a Sentar’i with no surname!”

  Back on his feet, Preth distanced himself from the helpful column and moved up to Quin. “You. Are. Nothing, Old Man. Thus I felt nothing.”

  “Maybe you’ll feel this...” Quin rushed over to the now visible Wordy and rolled out a strike to the face.

  Except it missed. Worse yet, Wordy didn’t move an inch. To Quin’s surprise, every part of his arm phased through every part of his opponent.

  He turned back to Wordy but a hook kick to the gut abruptly stopped him.

  Quin grimaced as his arms tried to grab Wordy’s leg; they went right through. In a sort of self hug, Quin exposed himself once again. He ended up rocked by another clean hit to the chin.

  Staggered and dazed, Quin used another [Gust Attack] to create some space. Wordy’s cloak didn’t even flap. Unfazed, he pummeled Quin until the Old Man bounced against the floor.

  Quin needed some time to get up. He scrambled for an idea as he scrambled to his feet.

  Wordy could be seen and heard but not felt, at least not until he wanted to attack. That last point stuck around in Quin’s head. He had an idea.

  His legs dangled under his weight as his eyes kept on Wordy. He blinked more slowly and breathed more heavily. He could hardly keep himself up as his boots skidded all over the floor.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Preth sensed his moment and lunged at Quin, ready to put the fight away.

  The moment Wordy committed himself to offense, Quin straightened his face and his stance. He once more redirected Wordy’s punch. His free arm produced another [Gust].

  Wordy smashed against another pillar before he lay parallel with the floor. While his foe remained down, Quin took the time to catch some air. He caught sight of the Yerp.

  “Hey, now’s your chance. Get out of here.”

  The boy’s face widened in fright. “Oh, yes. Yes sir.” He slowly rose to his feet. “I just have to get my lantern and I’ll be on my way.”

  “Noo! Just go. Leave it behind and-” The opportunity closed as the double doors closed.

  Before anyone knew it, darkness engulfed the large room. Deprived of their only light source, everyone in the room had a pitch black vision.

  Wordy could go invisible but was still tangible. Wordy could go intangible but was still visible. His ghost arts helped him evade one sense or another just not all of them at the same time.

  But in a darkness so pronounced that one couldn’t see their hands, the limits were broken and Wordy could manipulate Quin senses at will.

  Of course, Wordy had to find him first and Quin knew that. He slowly stepped back as he kept his breaths quiet.

  He tried to reach the Yerp’s location, but Quin could only hope that’s where he headed.

  “Heed my words Old Man, I will find you.” Wordy announced, his whisper, an arm’s length away from Quin.

  Not an inch of a flinch was made as Quin continued to back up slowly.

  He felt certain he’d reached the Yerp and he stretched his arms out to make contact.

  His hands flailed around until they hit something. He felt around only to discover a pillar.

  The taps made a noise though and as soon as Quin recognized the object, his face felt the full swipe of a kick.

  Knocked off his feet, the floor caught him. He bounced right back up however, and resumed his slow movements. Something ran down his face.

  “Sir? Are you still there?” voiced the kid from a distance.

  Quin couldn’t answer back, but he now had a direction to go. He proceeded gingerly toward the Yerp.

  “I have the lantern now. Hold on...”

  The clicks made were easy to trace, but Quin didn’t know who Wordy targeted next.

  A small flame lit up, the lantern glowed before the kid’s relieved face. Wordy stood right next to him.

  In an instant, the boy flinched. Wordy pounced. Quin reacted quickly and swatted Preth away with another [Gust Attack].

  Unfortunately, the wind also blew out the flame and snuffed out the light’s light presence.

  Quin rushed over to the Yerp. “Stay close and relight.” he instructed.

  In seconds, the small light returned. Quin stood back to back with the kid as they awaited Wordy’s next move. Moments of silence followed.

  The two looked in every direction as they kept their backs as close as they could. The small glow displayed their restless eyes. The long wait wore on them both.

  Out of nowhere, Wordy appeared before the kid and made a sudden twitch to scare him. The boy lost control of his face and dropped the lantern. Darkness returned once more.

  Quin barely turned around when he took a tackle to the floor. Unable to see, he received two wallops to the face before he tussled with his foe.

  The struggle continued until Quin heard a whack on the floor. A loud cry came from Wordy, perhaps he made another punch but connected with the ground instead. Regardless, it gave Quin his chance.

  He pushed Wordy off of him, turned in the direction of his opponent and let out another burst of wind. Preth’s screams faded as he flew further into darkness.

  Quin rolled himself back up, fatigue started to set in. He breathed in and out through his nose as he thought about his next move.

  He had to put an end to this. If he could give Wordy one good [Gust] against a pillar, it could put the fight away once and for all. He needed to find his moment.

  For a while, nothing occurred. All Quin could hear were his breaths.

  Maybe Wordy was already out cold, he wondered, but maybe that’s what Wordy wanted him to believe, he thought. Surely, the Yerp had his lantern by now, Quin believed, but it was too risky to make a sound, he concluded.

  More seconds passed. More time ticked away. Quin’s rest turned to restlessness. Even when he expected a hit, he felt nothing. Silence remained. It exhausted his nerves. He became fidgety.

  Quin heard a click; he immediately aimed and fired with his [Gust]. Instantly, he realized he got the wrong target.

  For a short time under the short light, he saw the kid airborne with his face scrunched up from the impact. The lantern floated up before it descended to the unyielding ground.

  He bumped to the floor with a bounce and the lantern smashed into pieces in the dark.

  “Noooo!” Quin shouted. Something then wrapped around his arm again.

  “Fouuund you!” Wordy yelled.

  Yanked off his feet, Quin drifted in darkness until a pillar stopped his flight. He could hardly register what happened before he found himself back in the air.

  Flung to another pillar, Quin cried in pain after his entire left side smacked the column. Preth couldn’t contain his joy.

  “Have I received ‘what’s coming to me’ yet?” Wordy mocked in the dark. “Is this the ‘scratch I deserve’? Because frankly, I think I deserve a little more.”

  Plucked off the floor again, Quin flew until his back collided with another pillar.

  “Maybe you should be called ‘Wordy’, because all you are, is words.”

  Another yank, another smack. It became difficult for Quin to move.

  “You thought because you were a Sentar’i, you could do whatever you wanted?”

  Quin whomped against another one.

  “Only the strong get to do what they want Old Man. You want to defend the weak, then maybe the first thing you should do is stop being so weak!”

  Quin’s body slammed hard against the pillar before it made a single thud on the floor.

  Nothing changed. Quin became a Sentar’i, but nothing had changed.

  Why do the strong use their powers to improve their livelihoods at the expense of the weak’s? Why couldn’t they use them to improve everybody’s livelihood?

  If Quin had such power, he’d gladly use it to help those around him. If Quin had such power, he wouldn’t allow the strong to terrorize the weak. If Quin had such power, he’d put an end to the injustices of the Sentari/Yerp relationship.

  If only he had the power.

  A bright red smoke started to form up. In no time, it increased and swirled around. At first, Wordy had no idea where the red smoke came from. He soon discovered it all came from Quin, all aura.

  Quin slowly rose off the floor, blood covered half of his face. Wordy froze as he witnessed the bright red smoke in front of him.

  Anger, frustration, infuriation. They all mixed together inside Quin as the red smoke glowed ever brighter. Soon it became bright enough for Quin to light up a portion of the room.

  At that moment, a line from Naim Noma popped up Quin’s his head.

  “Strength comes in many varieties, all of them are nothing without heart. It is strength of heart that help us prevail against the impossible.”

  Preth snapped out of his shock. His [Ghost Chain] still wrapped around Quin’s arm.

  “Nice trick Old Man. Can it teach you to fly?” Wordy tried to yank Quin across the room again.

  No luck. In fact, the chain around Quin’s arm appeared to dissolve. Wordy’s [Ghost Chain] slowly deteriorated as Quin gripped it.

  Wordy desperately continued to haul Quin back.

  “What kind of madn-”

  Quin simply made a light tug and it lifted Wordy into the air.

  Preth careened and crashed hard against a pillar. He smacked down on the floor and struggled to pull himself up.

  “Wh...what…?” Wordy stammered as he used the pillar to orient himself.

  The moment Wordy returned to his feet, he saw a stone-faced Quin right next to him. Preth nearly fell over as he gasped behind his mask.

  He swung a fist, but Quin quickly responded with a light backhand. It had enough force to send Preth hurtling.

  Wordy bounced and rolled over the floor before his body slid to a stop. He hardly moved when Quin clutched his shirt.

  “W...wai...please,” Wordy muttered as he stuck out his hands out and waved for mercy.

  Quin’s anger only grew. Mercy had been on the table the whole time, but Wordy eschewed it without a care.

  Everything that happened could have been prevented had Wordy employed a single ounce of mercy. Quin felt pretty sure the word didn’t exist in Wordy’s lexicon. He intended to add his own entry.

  With red aura still imbued to him, Quin lifted Wordy to his feet and unleashed a deep hook that shattered Wordy’s mask and twisted his face.

  Wordy whacked against the floor hard. He never moved.

  Baldy told Quin aura was all about feeling and that strong feelings helped. As he stood alone, his own source of light in the darkness, he strongly felt things needed to change.

  People were people Sentar’i or not.

  Everybody came from the same place, was shone on by the same sun, and were subjected to the same ills life gave. Quin didn’t want to go down the path most Sentar’i traveled.

  He wanted reciprocity; people were people.

  The sight of the unconscious kid across the room told Quin he had to do better and be better.

  He pledged to himself that he would protect the Yerps so that one day, they would no longer look at their supernatural counterparts with fear, but look at them as equals.

  Quin aimed to follow Naim Noma and use every ounce of strength his heart could muster.

  Just then, the double doors opened and Quin shielded his eyes. He saw three figures who in turn saw him. All three were Neravivs, Arelis foremost among them.

  “WHAT IS THIIIIS?!” she bellowed.

  The red aura that enveloped Quin gradually dissipated as well as his anger. There were shards of broken glass and two immobile people on the floor (one of them a trainee).

  The only person who stood, was without their mask, still had his hands in a fist, and momentarily exuded a red smoke. Not a good look.

  After his pledge to improve the livelihoods of others, his own livelihood was bound for uncertainty.