A Good Blade Never Rusts [Zub v Shades]

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Wandering around the Coliseum stands, Zubaidah hummed with and listened to the rukh chattering above the empty pitch, I think that Ayero… She had come back to Reim to visit Anna and ended back at the Coliseum, where Asmoday had once stood. I wager that Zadi… She had been content to simply reminisce, mostly about fighting Zion, but the burning pain in her leg had convinced her to bribe the authorities into lending her the space for practice. I hope that Caelus… It was easy enough, since it was a holiday for the Coliseum and she had more than enough money to afford it, and yet she could feel the rukh repeating the names Ayero, Zadi and Caelus in her ears.

I think I’ve heard those names before…
Been a while since I heard those names…

Listening closer to the rukh, Zubaidah heard them cluster around the centre of the pitch whilst she hummed. A low-pitched hum began to reverberate from this point in return, somewhat familiar from her experience with Kunla. Walking towards the centre, the humming grew louder and louder until she could feel her body vibrate with the sound. As if she knew what to do, Zubaidah took aim at where the sound was loudest and struck the space with her spear…

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Once the rukh finished their song, a new voice entered Zubaidah’s ears, That will be my edge. A red-haired youth stood there, unsheathing his sword and sizing her up, Whose memory is this? As she wondered who this was, however, he came rushing forwards with his sword pointed at her chest, I think I can control the fight! She could feel her body move without thinking in response, blocking his sword with a well-timed parry…

…and Zubaidah felt his blade bounce off hers. It was real and physical, her arm vibrating with the blow. In fact, as he darted to her left side, she could feel his next attack drive her backwards. With every single blow, he was pushing away her spear and tiring her out.

Is this even a memory?! Calm down! Just treat it like a real fight. Well, if I don’t, it seems there’s a real possibility of getting hurt… So all you have to do is beat him before you do, right?

Her mind steeled, Zubaidah would focused on Caelus’ thoughts, hoping to counter his moves before they were made, Use the scream! So he wants to stun me, huh? Watching him pull back his sword, lungs filling with air, Zubaidah would swipe the side of her spear into his ribs with a solid thwack. Doubling backwards, eyes filled with surprise, Caelus’ body would shimmer slightly.

What just happened... Hmm, I don’t think this is just a memory…

As his body became solid again, Caelus rushed forwards as if he had not noticed what had happened, raising his shield to block Zubaidah’s next blow. With her full force pressed against it, the shield crumpled like old newspaper and the spear slid down into his shoulder, spilling flecks of pale blood. Now’s my chance! Seeing that Zubaidah was distracted, her face paling with the blood spilt, Caelus would bat aside her spear and advance with his sword in front. Even if she was distracted, however, Zubaidah knew exactly where he was aiming, interrupting him with a well-placed kick to the shins. As he slipped, she would manoeuvre her blade to his throat and ordered him to yield, but his body shimmered again and disappeared, Didn’t think I’d see you again…

Hmm, what was that about… I know, how odd? Well, more how familiar. Except I don’t think I’ve met that boy before. Hey, he’s not a ‘boy’, give him some credit. Fine, fine, but ‘boy’ or ‘man’, I’ve never met him.



‘You felt that, didn’t you?’ Watching the fight from the Coliseum stands were Polliver and Korinna, veterans who now taught the next generation of gladiators, ‘Yeah, that girl wasn’t just play-fighting, was she?’ Since it was a festival day, their students were loosed into Reim’s streets, but these teachers had stayed out of interest when Zubaidah rented out the entire arena for her own training, ‘I can’t explain it, but - ’


‘I don’t know how, but that was my fight against the Caelus boy.’ Coming out from the senatorial entrance was Breaker, well-known amongst the Coliseum circles as the greatest living gladiator, ‘I could see exactly where his blows were coming from.’ Polliver touched his midriff subconsciously, tracing the line where Caelus had once sliced clean through his body. ‘In fact, she was fighting just like I’d been.’


‘Nevermind that, how the hell was she able to create the illusion of that fight without him being there?’ ‘Well, when you get to a certain level of skill, you can make people believe something’s there when it isn’t.’ ‘Hmm, are you sure that’s all it was?’

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As she brushed sweat from her brows, Zubaidah pressed her spear into the ground, leaning upon the shaft for support. Shaken from her encounter with Caelus, she stared intently at the spot where she had felt the rukh gather. She knew that the rukh could show her their memories, something which she had experienced with Angelus and Jahangir, but there was something different about this time. It felt more like the memories had become physical, intruding upon reality, reminding her more of Marax’s tricks than anything else. In fact, even if she was shaken and hurt, Zubaidah could only feel more curious about how the entire occurrence. Why had she felt as if she had known Caelus, when she had never met him before?

Had the rukh chosen his memories for some particular reason?

Taking another deep breath, Zubaidah uprooted her spear and took it into both hands. She could only found out if she tried again, right? Aiming it back towards where the rukh had previously gathered, she could hear that they were buzzing about one particular spot, inviting her closer with low-pitched hums. Exhaling any doubts, Zubaidah struck that spot as she had done before, listening to the unusual harmonies resonate outwards and wash over her body.

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Shimmering into existence was a blonde-haired man, bedecked in a pink kimono and all sorts of magic tools. As she strained her eyes, however, Zubaidah realised that she knew this man with straw-coloured hair, his actions at the Black Pyramid renowned in certain circles. Zadi was his name, if memory served well. But something more than just familiarity tugged at her heartstrings. It was similar to how she had felt towards Caelus, as if she were seeing an old friend from afar, unsure how to go about greeting them…

…and then he lunged forwards. No time for reminiscing here, not at all, just a quick stab towards her dominant arm. As she stumbled backwards, her weakened leg buckling, Zubaidah would hastily meet his sword with her spear. Placing more weight back onto her other leg, she would drive his blade aside and begin her own series of lunges, hoping to push Zadi towards the arena’s walls.


She knew that sound in his voice, loud and exaggerated, as if a stage whisper for his audience. That was the sound of an actor reading the cues before his entrance, waiting for his time to shine.


‘Push!’ As she stumbled slightly, Zadi would thrust his sword towards Zubaidah, imbuing his blade with gravity magic and tossing her skywards. Using this chance to target her while vulnerable, he would cast eight lasers at her direction before imbuing his own body with gravity magic so that he could follow and finish her in close-quarters. He had underestimated her abilities, however, especially since midair combat was her specialty. Evading his lasers with graceful airs, as if dancing through the singed wind, Zubaidah would meet Zadi head-on with her spear.

With their blades locked in place, gravity pushing them both towards the ground, she stared him in the eye and watched his form shimmer slightly. ‘Fancy seeing you here!’ Her blade slipping in confusion, wondering what he meant, Zubaidah was forced back down to the arena’s dust and dirt. ‘Never was able to see through me, eh?’ Zadi followed quickly afterwards, releasing his gravity magic as he dove straight downwards with his sword pointed right at her throat. ‘Sad it was such a brief reunion!’

Realising that she would be unable to stand up in time, panic flashed through Zubaidah’s mind; but thankfully, genius was not far behind. Rolling sideways at the last moment, Zadi’s blade would embed itself in the arena’s floor. As his legs buckled with the shock, Zubaidah would kick them from underneath, tripping him up and making him lose hold of his sword. Not even bothering to get up, or rather concerned that her own legs would buckle if she tried, Zubaidah thrust her spear under his chin… ‘Briefer than I thought, huh?’ …and he shimmered out of existence.