Chapter 47: Witness to Madness
The boy and girl stood in front of Avin, their gazes locked like blades crossed in mid-air. Sparks of tension practically hissed between them.
Avin sat frozen on the bench. His gut twisted. Is this... a fight? His instincts screamed at him to stand up, to slip quietly out of sight before fists—or worse—started flying.
He rose quickly, brushing off his trousers. Yup, I’m not dying today. Just going to walk away like a smart man.
"Hey, you!"
The shout cut across the hall. Avin stiffened but kept walking. Surely it wasn’t meant for him.
"Hey, you!"
He quickened his pace, eyes locked forward. Not his business. Not his problem.
"Hey, you, redhead!"
That made him pause. Avin turned, brows knitting. Redhead? He wasn’t used to being called that. Back on Earth, nobody had ever addressed him by his hair color—it felt too casual, too blunt.
When he looked back, the girl’s sharp brown eyes were pinned on him. She was looking right at him.
His stomach dropped.
She jabbed a finger his way. "Where are you going? I am calling you!"
Avin glanced left, then right, as if maybe there was another unfortunate soul with the same hair. No such luck.
The girl marched toward him, golden hair bouncing with every determined step.
Avin instinctively stepped back, his legs tense. What is up with this girl?
She stopped directly in front of him, tilting her head up to meet his gaze. Her lashes framed eyes that would’ve been striking if not for the sheer hostility in them.
"You dare ignore me?"
"Me?" Avin’s voice cracked in confusion.
"Yes, you," she snapped. "I called for the redhead, and you are the only redhead in the entire hall."
Avin sighed, shoulders sagging. So it was me. Great. "That’s not my name, though."
"What?" she blinked.
"It’s not my name," Avin repeated flatly.
She scoffed, hands on her hips.
Up close, Avin finally had a good look at her. Long blonde hair, carefully braided at the sides, framed a round, striking face. Her lashes were unfairly long, almost doll-like. She’s actually really pretty, Avin thought, studying her for half a second too long. But the expression she makes with that face—
The girl’s frown deepened.
"What the fuck did you just say?"
Avin’s eyes widened. The foulness of her words clashed violently with her delicate voice.
"Do you not have any respect for nobles, commoner?" she barked.
"Commoner?" Avin echoed, startled.
He drew in a breath, ready to argue. "I’m not a com—"
She cut him off, stepping closer. "Stop talking and be our witness."
Avin blinked, his brain stuttering. "Witness?"
"Yes." She gestured over her shoulder at the boy she’d been arguing with. "We need someone with no bias to judge our fight."
"Wait, with him?" Avin leaned to the side. The boy across the way smiled warmly and lifted a hand in greeting.
Avin waved back nervously, lips twitching into a stiff smile. He reminds me of him... For a fleeting second, a memory surfaced—someone calm, reliable, familiar. Then it faded, and he turned back to the girl.
"I don’t th—" he stopped himself mid-word. A thought curled through his mind.
Hold on. If I watch them fight, I can see how people here handle combat. Maybe I can make plans. And if they’re strong, they’d be good allies later. I have to start thinking about the future.
He stammered, then forced the words out. "Sure... I guess I can be a judge."
"Witness," she corrected immediately, then turned on her heel. "You will witness when I wipe the floor with him."
"...Oh." Avin muttered. She sure is an egoist.
They walked back toward the boy. He stepped forward confidently, extending his hand toward Avin.
"Hello. My name is Sylas Ullr, of the Noble Ullr family. And you are?"
Sylas was about Avin’s height, slim but composed. His dark hair fell neatly over his forehead, his features calm and sharp, like someone who had never known panic in his life.
"Avin Nulla-Chrono," Avin said, shaking his hand.
Sylas’s eyes brightened. "Ah... the youngest son of the Chrono family? A pleasure." His grip lingered another second before he released.
The girl interjected abruptly. "You’re a noble?" She stared at Avin, disbelief etched across her face.
"Yes?" Avin tilted his head.
"Why didn’t you listen to me earlier, then?"
Avin exhaled hard through his nose. "Because you didn’t give me a cha—"
"Okay, be the witness for our fight," she bulldozed over him. "We need one to make it official."
Avin pinched the bridge of his nose. She just cut me off. Again. Lowest attention span ever.
"She gets like that sometimes," Sylas murmured, as though reading his thoughts.
Avin glanced at him, eyebrow raised.
"I think she has attention problems," Sylas added plainly.
Avin looked back at the girl. She was now staring dreamily off into the crowd, eyes glazed as though she’d forgotten everything she’d just said.
"...ADHD," Avin muttered under his breath.
"What did you say?" Sylas asked.
"Oh, nothing," Avin said quickly, dropping onto the bench again.
Sylas inhaled deeply, patience thinning. "Eira!" he shouted.
The name cracked through the hall like a whip. Avin blinked. So, her name was Eira.
She didn’t respond. Still staring into space, lost in whatever flicker of thought distracted her.
Sylas stormed up to her and flicked the back of her head.
"Ow!" Eira whipped around, glaring daggers at him. What followed was an impressive string of curses that spilled from her mouth with tiny, shrill fury.
Avin sat in silence, watching the two of them bicker. Nobles... I thought they were supposed to be refined, dignified, composed. What the hell am I watching?
When Eira finally finished ranting, she inhaled sharply and smoothed down her hair.
"Okay. Rules for this duel."
Avin leaned forward, suddenly attentive. At last, something serious.
"No weapons, no tools. Only fists. No abilities—unless they’re passive and cannot be helped. And... uh..."
She trailed off, her gaze drifting upward toward the golden ceiling. Her mouth stayed open, but no sound came out. Her eyes glazed again.
A loud sigh escaped Sylas. "No cheating," he added flatly.
Eira snapped her fingers, eyes widening. "Ah, yes! No cheating. Those are the rules."
She raised her fists, bouncing slightly on her toes, eyes locked on Sylas.
"Let’s start already."
Avin sat back, eyes darting between them. His stomach tightened.
So... what exactly do I do now?