Re: Incarnation Death Match 4 Regre

"We... We won...? We won, Fiora!" Claire sighed in relief. Her breaths came out in ragged gasps, and her head was still throbbing, but she won - and it is all that matters.

Fiora nodded, not even a twitch on her expression.

"Congratulations. Guess my powers wasn't enough to s.n.a.t.c.h victory." Trosker scooped up his wounded handler. Half or Reyvan's face was pink from burn wounds, while his right eye turned bright red, damaged by fire from Claire's surprise attack. Patches of his hair was singed off, causing it to look uneven.

"As for you…" Trosker turned towards Claire. "Good idea on using the power-sharing aspect of your handler status." He glanced at Claire's raw right hand, the skin of her palm burned off from the reckless use of Fiora's fire. "You are smart, but don't forget that your friend over there, as much as I don't like her, is still a person. If only I wasn't busy gawking, the obvious hole in that 'plan' of yours would make her dead meat."

"I guess so." Claire turned away, unable to form a reply. True, that tactic, if it could be called that, was far too reckless, relying too much on surprise factor without anything of substance.

"Well then, see ya around." Trosker wrapped his chain on his left knuckle. Within moments, his wings and feathers disappeared, his features returning to the green-eyed, brown haired man seen before the match. Even without the strength of his Incarnation form, he seemed to be strong enough to carry his ally back through the tunnel they came from.

"It seems we have a clear winner!" The narrator's voice broke Claire's reverie, along with the awkward silence following the win. "Show us the proof of your victory!"

With an awkward, jerking gesture, Claire raised the pendant she took from Reyvan.

"The second match of the Elimination Round has been completed! Give a big round of applause to our winning pair, Claire Saphira and her partner, Fiora!"

A round of applause filled the arena, marred with some boos from those who supported Reyvan and Trosker. Some praised the surprise element, while others are busy pointing out the mistakes or even slamming their fists in anger for losing a bet.

"For winning the first round, one hundred thousand points have been deposited into the winning team's card! Congratulations, Claire Saphira and Fiora!"

"Thanks." That was the only response Claire could muster, the euphoria from her win abated by the creeping regret. In the heat of battle, her actions had seemed reasonable, but now, it was more terrifying than anything else, an overpowering doubt screaming in the back of her mind.

Without celebrating her victory, she decided to walk out from the arena, with Fiora following behind her.

--

"I mean, look at her! Divine-rank Incarnation or not, launching yourself across the field takes a lot of guts. She's a normal human, no monster regeneration or anything, and she just threw herself to get the necklace! Also, did you see-"

"I get it, Ronan. You've been going on and on about that battle for at least one hour." Ivanna sighed. "It's a wonder Claire isn't sleeping already."

As if the universe heard her, Fiora leaned to the right, her head landing on Claire's shoulder. The sleeping girl seemed to be unaware of what she had done.

Claire didn't react. She stared at her phone, as if the dark, cracked screen hid something profound within.

"Claire not swatting anyone who came in contact with her shoulder? Is this real life? Is it just-"

"Shh, Ivanna! Stop jinxing us all!" Ronan sighed.

"I... Can live for a bit. She did exhaust herself after all." Claire leaned to the side door, allowing the girl a better position. "It's uncomfortable, but that's the least I can do."
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"Hey, Claire. You're oddly silent for someone who has just won." Ivanna asked, raising her eyebrows. "I mean, with that amount of points, you can do a lot."

"30000 points each for me and Fiora, while both of you get 20000 points worth of Roud. That's what we agreed on, right?" Claire answered.

"Well, more like 60000 for you, 20000 each for us." Ronan shrugged.

The atmosphere tensed.

"Ronan, are you sure you want to start this debate again?" Claire narrowed her eyes.

"… Calm down, I'm not going to. Agree to disagree, alright? Anyway, congrats for that win. I was too engrossed and forgot about it." Ronan scratched his head, not in the mood to get into a confrontation.

--

With the fatigue weighing down on her, Claire threw herself into her bed without changing her clothes, sighing in contentment upon touching the sunken, thin matress. Even knowing how dirty her clothes are, she doesn't even have enough energy to grab something else, or even follow her subtle threat towards Ivanna back in the car ride.

"Say, Fiora..."

"Yes, Claire?"

Just like clockwork, the moment they came back, Fiora set her sight on the familiar green hourgla.s.s ornament on the white desk and flipped it, watching the drops fall as if it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

"Why me?"

"I don't think I understand your question." Fiora turned away from the hourgla.s.s and stared at Claire, nothing stirring within those calm, endless gray eyes.

"I mean, why do you follow me still, as you can just remove your chain and, maybe burn me to a crisp, without going to the Death Matches at all?" Claire lifted her injured right hand, staring at the bandage while remembering the earlier events. If she concentrated, she swore the feeling of blazing, red hot flame, is still there.

There was a long, palpable silence.

"I don't know, to be honest." Finally, Fiora replied, breaking the bubble of awkwardness between them. She walked towards the side of Claire's bed and sat down on the floor. "Perhaps, you'll find it strange, but I just feel… something, a nagging feeling whenever you're close by. In addition, that hourgla.s.s..." Fiora trailed off. Within moments, the green liquid at the top was completely pooled at the bottom.

"Ah, almost forgot you like that old thing." Claire stared at the hourgla.s.s, her expression unreadable. "If you want, you can keep it."

"Pardon?"

For a short, fleeting moment, the calm in her expression cracked. However, all too quickly, she regained her composure, acting as if the crack never existed.

"You can keep it."

"… Thank you." Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Fiora answered, taking the hourgla.s.s as if she was holding expensive porcelain. "Aside from that memory I've told you before... This contest of yours got me intrigued as well."

"Intrigued?"

"If the information I heard from that time was right, winning Incarnation are promised aid to obtain the memories they lost." Fiora answered. "Did that friend of yours never tell you?"

"Nah, I wasn't too enthusiastic about the Death Matches back then, I felt it was rather distasteful. I mean, battle till death?" Claire shrugged. "All I know that it offers money and the chance to meet the famed Skylar Ferrophelas, the famed guy behind virtually everything in this world."

"Skylar?"

"Yep, he's famous as he is the founder of Ferros Industries. They make anything ranging from phones to everyday stuff like pillows or even food. They're probably the closest thing to the government without actually being one." Claire answered. "The name Skylar has became synonymous with success. Most people will-"

"Wait, someone is here."

Fiora whispered, touching the chain coiled on her left hand.