Splash.
Water rippled across the pool as Rash stepped into it.
I was leaning against the frame on the opposite side, my body already submerged in the hot water.
Today we have been training for quite a long time. Rash had lost a few rounds of our duels and refused to stop until he was satisfied. But the more we fought, the more often I won, which eventually made us the last teens remaining in the arena. Exhausted, we had gone to the bath, washed ourselves, and finally stepped into the pool.
Rash had been looking at me strangely while we washed. At one point, I almost began to wonder if he was one of those guys, but I decided to ignore it. After all, asking him if he liked men could easily end in a fight, and I certainly didn't want to brawl with a naked guy on the bathroom floor.
In the end, he kept glancing at me until we both settled into the pool.
"Ahhh."
Rash let out a long sigh that bordered on a moan as he relaxed in the hot water, which somehow made me even more suspicious about his sexuality.
Before I could voice my thoughts, however, he spoke again.
"Adonis, what's going on with those shackles? They look quite heavy."
His question stopped my train of thought and made me glance down at the shackles around my wrists. Raising my right hand out of the water, I watched droplets run down the cold metal.
Rash continued.
"You're the only one here who still has them. Not just one pair either—wrists and ankles. And don't even get me started on the collar."
I lowered my hand back into the water and turned toward him.
"Didn't you also have shackles when you arrived here?"
I answered his question with one of my own.
"Yeah, I did," he replied. "But they took mine off afterward. Yours are still there."
Then, as if realizing something, he leaned back slightly and shielded his chest with both hands.
His voice became wary.
"Don't tell me you asked them to keep them. Is this your… taste?"
The last word was almost whispered, but still loud enough for me to hear.
What taste?
It took me a moment to understand what he meant. I shuddered at the strange direction his thoughts had taken.
Before he could continue with another absurd theory, I answered.
"They said they're some kind of special shackles."
That immediately caught his interest, and he stopped his antics.
"Special?"
"Yeah. Special. They're some kind of new model, and only an engineer can remove them. The smith tried it but gave up in the end. Since then, I've just lived with them."
Rash's eyes widened, and his mouth formed a small "O".
"Wow. So you're pretty lucky to receive such special shackles."
He chuckled.
"Must be annoying when fighting."
I nodded.
"Yeah. At the beginning, the extra weight made things difficult, and it was uncomfortable. But by now I've adapted to them."
I lifted my hand out of the water again and looked at the metal.
"I've worn them for so long... sometimes I even forget they're there. Honestly, they've become more helpful than annoying."
I rotated my wrist slightly.
"The metal's strong enough to block a sword."
Rash suddenly clapped his hands.
"Oh, right! That move."
"When you parried my strike with your shackles. Pretty handy."
I nodded.
"Yeah. Honestly, it will probably feel strange without them."
***
The arena was almost empty.
All the teens had already left and gone back to their cells.
All except the two of us.
Clang.
Our swords clashed as we both struck at the same time.
The blades locked together as we pushed forward, both of us trying to force the other off balance.
My feet dug into the sand. I felt the grains shift away beneath my bare soles as the weight of our strikes pushed me down. Both of us leaned forward, pouring our strength into the blades. It brought us close enough to feel each other's breath.
Brown eyes met mine.
Then—
A smirk appeared on Rash's lips.
Suddenly, he stopped pushing and fell backward, pulling his sword with him and creating distance between us. My blade slid forward as his force disappeared, I almost stumbled, but recovered my footing quickly.
Using my forward momentum, I spun and kicked off with my right foot.
Step.
Now with my right foot in front, I almost stood in a half-lunge. During the spin, I had kept the sword close to my body. The moment I finished turning, I stabbed forward.
Swoosh.
My blade stopped centimeters from Rash's chest.
I almost smiled.
But—
Rash was smiling too.
His sword had reached my chest as well, hovering before me.
Now both of us stood in mirrored lunges.
We both had stabbed forward.
And both of our blades hovered before the other's chest.
Haah.
I exhaled slowly but didn't lower my sword.
Rash stared directly into my eyes while holding his position as well.
A moment passed like that.
Then—
A small smile spread across his lips.
"Another draw…"
He lowered his blade, and I followed soon after.
Then, as we stood a few meters apart with our swords hanging loosely, he chuckled.
"Wow… I'm still shaking."
Curious, my gaze dropped from his face to his right hand, which held the sword.
A faint tremble ran through his arm. It was subtle, but visible.
"Scared?" I asked.
It was a natural question. We had just ended a duel with both blades resting before each other's chests. There was no shame in your hand shaking afterward.
But Rash slowly shook his head.
"No. Not scared."
Another smile spread across his face.
This one wider.
"Excited."
I frowned.
"Excited?"
He nodded.
"Yeah. The fight was quite long, and the ending… both of us stabbing forward at the same time. That got my blood pumping."
I shook my head and muttered quietly.
"Crazy."
Rash immediately snapped his head toward me.
"There's nothing crazy about being excited."
Sighing, I replied.
"There is. No sane person smiles with a blade right in front of them."
Rash let out another heavy sigh and clicked his tongue.
"Here, let big brother teach you something important."
I narrowed my eyes.
"You are not my—"
"Shhh."
He raised a finger to his lips, interrupting me before he started another of his ´lectures´.
"Adonis, fighting is survival. Most people see survival as something terrible. They hate it."
I nodded slightly.
He continued, "But for me?"
"It's beautiful."
"The clash of swords. The pounding of your heart as the blade passes your body. The pain in your muscles when you give everything you have. All of that is proof that you're alive. And only in those moments do you truly feel it."
"One wrong step can kill you. One careless strike can open a fatal gap. You stand directly between life and death."
I shook my head.
"That's just survival. I'd prefer a life without it."
Rash covered his face with his palm and sighed again.
"Ah… you'll understand someday. Right now, you're too young."
He clicked his tongue like an old man, which irritated me even more.
"Too young? I'm just not crazy."
Rash tried once more.
"Just remember this."
"If you ever face an opponent far stronger than you… or get surrounded by beasts with no way to escape… you'll feel it—the despair of death. You will feel like giving up. Like, there's no way to win. No escape. That's when you stand closest to death."
He paused.
"That's when you have to…"
His lips curved.
"Smile."
"Smile at death. And keep swinging your sword. Because only those who aren't afraid of death… can win when everything seems lost."