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Bzzt! Bzzt!
Ahlaam quickly moves herself left, dodging the attack thrown straight for her chest. It doesn't get close enough to burn, but Radiance's remains crackle around her, fading in the next second. She can't keep a smile off of her face as adrenaline courses through her, bouncing up and down on her heels as she prepares for whatever's next.
"Nice shot!" She exclaims, teasing enough to not be fully geniune. "But maybe you could try to actually hit me next time? I've heard that works wonders." Her smile turns just a hint smug, tilting her head to the side. "Is it really that hard, Kalfu?"
Her opponent just glares at her. Granted, that's hardly out of character for him when he begins to do more poorly in the spars between them. Ahlaam's not exactly shocked about it. She places a casual hand on her hip.
"Oh, ha, ha," Kal huffs, slightly out of breath. His hair's tied back in a low ponytail, but the mess of the fight means it's started to slightly come out of its restraints. He shoots her an annoyed look. "Hilarious, Ahlaam."
Ahlaam falls into a defensive stance, bracing as she prepares. Still, the confidence doesn't leave her—how could it? "Not like I'm wrong, though, is it?" Radiance starts to thrum in her palms as she starts to weave it, blue-green brilliance readying her own strike. "You've barely gotten any attacks in on me this entire time, and we've been fighting for nearly twenty minutes!"
Out on the training fields of Paradise, it's only them. There are certainly perks to being Margaret's chosen guard, and one of them is access to these well-kept grounds for sparring at nearly all hours. Their light training clothes, white and flowing to allow flexible movement, that they wear gleams in the midday sun, as the two of them put the training grounds to full use now. It's important to keep up the Traveler regimen, so this is yet another time where she and Kal have found themselves out here. Practice makes perfect, after all, and Ahlaam keeps herself up to those high standards.
Kal just lets out a frustrated groan, retorting loudly with—
"You've got Movement!"
Ahlaam doesn't bother to hold back a cackle.
It's a lot more fun to fight against Kal than be on a team with him at times, she'll admit. She improves either way, and…well, she loves him, she really does, but Gates, he gets riled up so easily, completely refusing to listen to those he's supposed to be working with because of it. When it's just her against him, she doesn't have to deal with that sort of irritation rising in her chest.
"Excuses, excuses!" she teases. "Really, Kalfu—a proper Traveler doesn't make those!" She lets a proper smirk dance across her face as his Radiance glows brighter, annoyance written all over him.
She watches as Kal's hands begin to hum again, sweat starting to drip down his brow as he takes aim. But before he can fire again, Ahlaam flings her own hands out. Her own Radiance spirals out of her palms.
Bzzt!
It strikes true before he can fully dodge, and he lets out a loud curse as it grazes his arm. He jerks back a step, gaze whipping up to meet hers.
"Hey!"
She rolls her eyes. It's not charged enough to properly hurt, obviously. Ahlaam wouldn't do that during a mere spar. It'll sting, but it won't burn the way it would if she was looking to do real harm. Personally, she thinks Kal is mostly annoyed her blows just keep on landing true. He's got more than a couple of bruises already, after all.
"Quit complaining," she calls. "And actually fight back!"
Kal's jaw sets, his body leaning more and more forward—his irritation is still there, but there's determination flowing through his face too.
He throws himself forwards.
With that, the dance really begins again.
They move quick, quicker, quickest around each other, as remnants of Radiance linger in the air, a gleam and glow that only comes from using it for battle. Like the remains of fireworks after they've exploded, a final glimmer. Brilliant light, shining and beautiful especially for just how much training they take to summon with such strength. That light still dances as they throw attack after attack, one after the other, at each other.
It's familiar, trading strikes with her friend. A dance she's long since learned the steps of since they began to properly grow into their powers and first trained together. There's joy, a bright sort of satisfaction, to it as they circle around each other, gazes flickering from their palms to tightened and tense muscle, trying to see just where the next blow will come from. She watches him intently—the way he watches her back in turn hard and fierce.
Ahlaam is nearly always confident in these sorts of battles—they're a good way to let off steam, and this one has been fun. It's been going her way, no doubt about that. Still, she won't let down her guard completely, even now. Sure, it's just a spar, but Kal's got a nasty habit of surprising an opponent whenever they least expect it—always laughing whenever it happens, mocking and delighted in one.
…Granted, those surprises don't always work, as impulsive as some of his moves can be. Often he telegraphs what he's about to do, throwing himself headlong into a risky situation. Of course, they've both learned each other's weak points over those years, too. Speaking of—
Kal lunges fowards yet again.
There.
Her eyes narrow. He's left his side open in the impulsive move forward. There's a common tactic she uses during these spars—wait for Kal to get impatient, rush forward, and then attack. Ahlaam is usually more of a defensive fighter, but she would be a fool to not take the chance for an easy strike. She makes her Radiance flash bright, bright, brighter. As Kal's arm comes up to block his eyes, squinting and stumbling in his approach, he overbalances. She ducks where he would have struck, taking the chance to dash in just close enough to make her next strike properly hit. She draws her arm back, shifting her weight to make the blow greater.
She drives it in hard.
Fist meets flesh, the side of the soft underbelly of her friend an easy target. It makes a muffled smacking sound, striking true. It does sound like quite the blow. She feels a bit of satisfaction at that—magic has its uses, but it's not all she relies upon.
Kal lets out a loud grunt, once again falling back a couple of steps as he staggers. Before he can properly retaliate, trying to reaching out to grab her himself, though, Ahlaam's distanced herself enough that he can't even truly try. What can she say? She's fast on her feet, even without her Ways. That's rather the point of all this training, after all.
Kal's head snaps up to look at her again, glaring even as he's still bent over from the attack. There's a wheeze to his voice, clearly reeling. "Hey, ow!" he protests. "That's a low blow!"
"Oh, please!" Ahlaam scoffs. "You've tried to use that kind of move against me once already!" Part of knowing her friend has come with knowing that he'll pull any sort of trick to try and achieve his victory. It's quite rich of him to talk about low blows.
Kal throws his arms out, gesturing like what he's about to say should be obvious. "Yes," he says with exasperation, "but it's fine when I do it!"
"It's your own fault your guard wasn't up! Basic maneuvers, come on. And, really?" she protests. "You are such a hypocrite, Kal!"
"Whatever means I win!"
"Bold words for the man who's lost the last three spars we've done!" she retorts, watching as his mouth forms a perfect offended O. Laughter again bubbles in her gut at the sight as she continues with, "For someone who keeps on claiming he's seconds away from winning, I can't help but notice you are starting to falter more and more!"
Ahlaam blinks when Kal doesn't immediately snap out a biting retort at that—instead, he looks up to her anew with a smirk on his face. "Don't discount me just yet, Ahlaam!" Even as he pants, there's a gleam in his eyes she knows well. It's one that she knows speaks to a twist, some sort of breakthrough he's had. "Want to see something new I learned?"
His smirk only widens, and in the next moment—
A bright and burning blast is aimed straight at her face.
Ahlaam gasps, drawing back, eyes squinting closed instinctively as she dashes out of the way. Movement saves her once again as she pulls away, throwing herself to the right through sheer force of will. It doesn't get close enough to her in time for her to feel it, thank the Gates.
…Just another blow of Radiance? she thinks, catching her breath. That's not exactly anything new, and it's not something Kal would speak of with such confidence. That can't be it—
Ahlaam opens her eyes again, the sight before her resolving into clarity.
Ah.
Well, there weren't that many of him before.
She twists around, taking in all of them—flanking her on all sides. Kal after Kal after Kal, encircling her completely. They all send that familiar cocky smile at her, a perfect reflection, over and over and over. Mirroring each other utterly, crossing their arms as one.
…Hmm. This could be annoying.
"Seven?" She calls out, pursing her lips. "Really?"
"Hey, gotta keep up my skills somehow!" The echoes of all the Kals speaking at once resounds through the field, uncanny and lasting. "Practice makes perfect, Ahlaam! And don't tell me you're actually struggling!" He sounds just a little too assured, smug once more. "Surely this can't be so difficult to dispel!"
"That's hardly what I meant, and you know it!"
Kal just cackles—well, all of them do, in perfect unison.
"Come on, Ahlaam," they goad. "Let's see if you can fight back against this!"
All the copies start to dash towards her, attempting to pin her in. If she chooses the wrong one to focus upon, this distraction could be enough to take her down. Blowing through them, overbalancing in her attempts and not knowing where to block the next blow from would be a detriment at best and a complete loss at worst. They'll be upon her in mere moments.
Ahlaam's not scared, though. She narrows her eyes, and looks.
Here's the thing: there's always a tell when it comes to Kal's illusions. A flaw, a crack. He's decent at crafting them, but Ahlaam hasn't ever fallen for them. There's a reason for that. He may have that Way—but Illusion is hers. She's grown skilled at both wielding it and seeing where it most falters when others call upon it. It's what she's best at, what she'll always keep close. She loves Illusion, and all she can do with it. Ahlaam knows she's good at it, and she's worked towards honing it with all she has.
It hasn't failed her yet.
Ahlaam's gaze dances between each copy. She'll admit, they definitely are convincing. To an unpracticed eye, it might be truly difficult to tell which is which, who among them is the true Kalfu Novus. It could be impossible, even.
But Ahlaam knows Illusion. And she knows her friend.
With that combination? It's as easy as anything.
She locks eyes with the third one on her left, her questioning beginning to resolve into certainty.
He looks different from the rest the further she focuses. The glimmer of magic in his eyes sways and shifts in a way that feels more than what is reflected in the rest. As well, she can't ignore the fact that the more she looks, she can't pick up on that sort of shimmer where it would be if his form was truly Illusion—even the most convincing Illusion usually has some shine to it if looked at carefully enough. It'll flicker if left alone for too long.
But one of the main things that gives it away? The one that first really caught her attention?
It's his smile.
It's the smile of someone who thinks that they will be truly victorious—not projected at all. The way he so confidently meets her gaze, pushing ever forward. There's a gleam to it that just can't be pasted on—especially by him.
Ahlaam tenses, and moves.
Her own Movement is something she's well-used to by now - that flicker and fade of nothing at all for a moment, how it engulfs her body as she dashes from one place to the other, more directed than just a simple dodge. The motion sickness of it hasn't been a problem for her for decades now, a trifle at most. She focuses upon her target, honed and at the ready. She'll have to move quickly.
Dash, dash—brace, brace, behind, hold on—
Ahlaam pops up behind the real Kal—no flash of light, no crash of noise, just the sound of her steps striking the ground as she appears. She's inches away from him at most. He stops his dash forward and starts to twist around. She sees his mouth falling a bit open, and eyes widening. It doesn't really matter, though. Whatever he could possibly do won't be enough, not with how close she is. They both know it, even if Kal looks like he still wants to try.
"Wait—"
He tries to draw back, but Ahlaam just clicks her tongue. She taps him, quickly, once, just to confirm.
Physical. Physical, and real—her calculation was correct. A smile bursts across her face.
"Bad luck, Kal."
And with that, she shoves.
Of course, Kal doesn't react in time.
He lets out a surprised screech as he falls from the sudden force of her hands upon him, his cry echoing loudly across the courtyard. His back smacks the hard dirt with a resounding thump!, the wind thoroughly knocked out of him. His limbs collapse, splayed out at awkward angles, arms falling behind his head and legs twisting up. The screech becomes a pained groan, as he looks up at her, wide-eyed and wheezing for breath.
Victory, sweet and brilliant, electrifies Ahlaam. Her palms still glow with Radiance as she grins triumphantly down at him, the threat of another strike aimed square at his chest. If this was a true battle, this would be his end.
She brushes the sweat off her brow with her spare hand, not even that much out of breath.
"I win!" she chirps. "Again. Good show, Kal."
Kal doesn't respond immediately. Instead, his eyes tighten, jaw clenching and lips pursing. If she was feeling uncharitable, she'd call it a glare.
Oh, not this again.
Ahlaam sighs. "You're the one who wanted to train," she huffs. "No need to be like this just because you didn't win." She'll admit, she does get annoyed herself when he gets like this near the end—just because he thinks he should win each time doesn't mean he has to act like this. "Come on, Kal." It's always been one of his things, really, since the day they first met: that competitive and prideful streak, pushing him forward onward and onward. Still, whenever he decides to act like this, it makes that same annoyance spark in her chest all over again.
Still, she lifts a hand down to help her friend up. It hangs in the air, open and offering.
For a second, she wonders if he'll ignore it entirely.
But then, Kal just sighs dramatically and takes her hand.
She pulls him to his feet with ease, with not a second's thought. Honestly, he barely weighs anything to her. It's been a bit since she picked him up after both of them indulging just a bit too much in his famed elixirs, her giggling all the while, but she could definitely still do it. He lets go of her hand in the next and dusts himself off.
"One day, I'll manage to surprise you," he sniffs, regaining some form of composure. There's an assurance in his voice, even now, as he looks down at her from his slightly taller height. "You're not going to see through my Illusion one day—that's a promise."
Ahlaam raises an eyebrow.
"…I'll believe that when it actually happens, Kal."
It's not that he's not capable of improving—of course he is! But Ahlaam really doubts that level of improvement will be happening any time soon—probably never, if she's being frank. Honestly, she assumed that was part of why he wanted to train today, that sort of improvement, even if she doesn't think he wants to admit it. She doesn't mind helping him test out new strategies of his and the like. It's not like she doesn't get to do the same with her own Illusions during the spars.
"Seriously? You could at least pretend that you have any belief in me."
If Ahlaam was less kind, she'd be tempted to call the tone of those words whiny. Really, they're only a breath off from being properly like that.
She ignores it, though. "Of course I have belief in you!" she says cheerily. She lets a beat of silence go by before she continues, a bit more dry, "Just not to beat me any time soon. Especially not in Illusion, and especially not when you overexert yourself in one attack like that! Really, one day, that habit you've got of rushing in is going to be the end of you."
"Yeah, yeah," he scoffs. "Whatever."
"I'm hardly giving you advice for no reason!" she says, a bit of irritation seeping through it. Then, Ahlaam sighs, and nudges him lightly on the shoulder. "That new trick was pretty good, though," she points out. "I can't say I was expecting it. How long have you been waiting to show off that one?"
Kal perks up, slightly. "Oh," he drawls. "Not long. Perhaps a fortnight or so? I didn't have to practice too much, of course—"
"Seven, though?" she laughs. "I can't believe it! Last I checked, you were still having trouble with making such convincing doubles all at once, let alone so many!" She snorts. "The echoing was a nice touch, I'll admit. Very spooky."
"It's no fun if there's not a bit of flair to it, Ahlaam," Kal says haughtily. "You have to give a show worth watching to catch people off guard. And it nearly worked, didn't it?"
"Gates, Kal," she teases, fond and warm. "You are such a showboat. And nearly's the key word. You know I would have helped you hone it if you'd asked, right? Really, it could have been fun." It's been a long while since she passed that stage, but that gives her all the more reason to help her friend achieve it—even if he never seems to want to ask for it outright.
He gives her a real smile then—still a smirk, of course, but there's a geniune happiness to it that wasn't there before. "Well, I have to play to my strengths, don't I? And if I'd told you, I wouldn't have been able to surprise you like that with it so prepared! Oh, the look on your face…" His face scrunches up in a delighted snort.
"Oh, yes," Ahlaam lightly says in response. "I'm sure no one can deny that you will be dramatic until the end, Kalfu."
"What's the fun of it if I'm not?" he retorts. "I'd much rather be the life of the party—dramatics are part and parcel of that all."
"You certainly make them so."
Kal just loosely shrugs. "Eh. It usually works out for me, doesn't it?"
She shoots him another teasing look. "Sure, usually. I can't help but recall more than a couple of bar-fights, Kalfu."
"I usually won those, what's your point?"
"…Right," she says skeptically. She just decides to move on. "Anyways! We should get going. Margaret's probably waiting. I think her studying for the day should be finishing up soon." She beams up at him. "I've got plans for tonight—we're going to have a fantastic time." For one thing, she's heard great things about the latest show out by the shores, a new troupe in town that's captured people's hearts. Excitement thrums through her—she's been looking forward to it for days. She looks her friend up and down, grimacing at his current state. "But you've definitely got to change, at least—I doubt you'll impress anyone in this mess."
"Hey! I always look fantastic."
Ahlaam gives him a look.
"…You've still got dirt stains all over your clothes, Kal. Is this truly the hill you wish to die on?"
He tips his head back, groaning. "Ugh, fine. You may have a point."
"I usually do," she casually replies, grinning all the more. "One day, maybe you'll accept that without so much complaining." She turns around to leave, humming idly. Kal falls into step with her easily enough, like he so often does.
Ahlaam and Kal leave the grounds, off to prepare for the night's adventures.