Nine Lives and Bad Luck

Cantrell

Dueling was an important coming of age event for their family. As a family of Battle mages and Ravenclaws, to truly gain respect was to show that you could apply to the world the knowledge you had gathered. Jaylen Cantrell had a talent for healing spells though. Regrowing skin, done. Resetting bones, easy. Boiling blood, not so much.

    It was easy to tell that the family accepted it, but also it was easy to tell his parents thought he lacked spirit, dedication. That he wouldn't survive in 'the real world'. He would never admit it aloud, but it stung. Especially when he could never see this so called real world like everyone else in his family did.

That didn't change the fact that his first time in the dueling ring would be the deciding factor in either proving his parents' rumors, or disproving it. And he knew they had been preparing for his failure- he had heard their whispers of it to the extended family, he had also been there when they announced he would go straight to the Difficult circuits.  There had been no complaints from the others it was a man eat dog eat bear eat wolf, sink or swim, kind of world out there.

    He also knew they were probably right; he would fail.

    And now here he was in the duelers' inner circle, for the first duel the family all gathered in the outer ring to 'not affect their performance' and something about standing alone in the end, at least in their real world. He didn't really care; he would have liked their support right about them.

"You seem nervous, is this your first duel? I'd heard that that was supposed to be a social event?"

He startled from his spiraling thoughts, "Sorry?" A person had slid- literally slid and wasn't that amazing, who the heck would do that in this palace of tradition and edict?- into the spot beside him on the bench. They looked his age although he would have remembered them if they had attended Hogwarts. Their face didn't show emotion and their movements were odd and sudden, but their eyes were bright, like a map of stars through the darkness of life.

"I heard first duels were social events- you lack an entourage."

    "It's a, uh family thing, you're supposed to go through it without help. Something about the real world. I'm not sure how well I'll do though..."

    "Why?"

    He found himself incapable of not answering her, "well- it's just- I'm- the only spells I've been good at were healing spells."

    He braced for rejection only to be met with a wild and inhuman laugh.  "So? You're good with healing spells; use that. There's the blood letting. Or seal their mouth shut with skin regrowing ones so they cannot cast a spell. Maybe nose or eyes too. Set bones incorrectly- strangle or impede with bandages that you can direct with a single, hidden swish of even your non-dominant hand- immobilize with those meant to be used against seizures- internally drown your opponents with ones to help hydrate comatose patients and any others you know- off balance with eye correcting- startle with hearing tests. The only limit is what you can think up."

    "But- but dueling, it's all about etiquette, and forms, and- and tradition you can't just ignore dueling spells for healing."

     "No sticking only with those, that's how you lose.  It's  about the freeing fight of survival, discovering your limits and passing them, about knowledge and skill and talent and creativity. At least that's what I've found. Look around you and you'll find few styles that are alike. Everyone here has developed their own style or evolved another one. It's a signature of sorts."

"I see." He glanced down at his form- completed except for the name. He sort of did, he hadn't stopped to think what it meant for tradition all the signature spells his family talked about. "Thank you."

There were many duelers by the name of Cantrell all the way up to the lower Challenge levels- it was tradition after all- but he hadn't ever found a way to follow many family traditions and still be himself. He just wasn't like that. He smiled, for the first time that day feeling ready for what was to come .

     "Thank you, I'll remember your words, may I- your name. What is it?"

      They laughed silently this time in the manner many cats seemed to do, and when they spoke he caught a brief glimpse of sharp fangs that flashed in the lighting, "I think I like you. You can call me Kore, I look forward to seeing you out there."

      His eyes went wide, "T-thank you." She gave the same look that he could tell meant she was laughing before clapping his shoulder and leaving, turning a few feet away, her head cocked to the side.

     "Have fun."

He didn't get to talk to her after that, and couldn't find someone named Kore amongst the other difficult level duelists meaning she was either a participant in the higher up circuit that had happened at the ring directly before this competition or a guest of another dueler. Some how he couldn't picture her as the latter though.

      Swarmed by his extended family, commenting on his newfound fighting style and whatever else they had to say as he was, he wasn't able to speak to her afterwards either.  She had been the reason he won his first match, and how he was even able to make it through the whole of the Dragon Circuit. Though he had checked the registries he hadn't worked up the nerve to actually ask anyone about the stranger that had made him who he was and in so little time. And yet it was the eyes he remembered, the stranger with the wild eyes.

That and the final glance he had seen over the people crowding around clambering for attention, turning around and giving an almost mocking salute with two fingers as they mouthed something to him. He never claimed to read lips but he liked to believe he had succeeded here; "You'll do great." Three simple words, two and a contraction, not even five syllables.

     Still. He dedicated himself to living up to those two small moments that had somehow managed to change his life as well as his opinion and approach to dueling so much. To living wild, free as a bird, free as the name he had chosen, and staying true to himself. He liked to think that change was reflected when he found his animagus form later on with a few school friends.

Jaylen laughed freely causing Ambroglio- a friend he had made in a later circuit- to startle nearly off his chair.

     "Oh, jeez, that laugh is never good you creepy murder doctor! That is your, 'it might be fun to see your entrails' laugh. Quit it."  Jaylen only shook his head and laughed harder. Making the other snort as well, they probably would like to see their own entrails anyway, the creep (his wand hand twitched at the tempting thought), the vampire flicking a scrap of torn parchment at him, "Well if you're done nerding out for the day, how about we escape this jail cel- oh sorry, library, and see if there's something fun to do." Ambroglio may act studious and mature in the circuit and around strangers in the name of the coven and as was expected, but Jaylen knew that didn't last long as soon as he was in safe territory.

     Chuckling, he raised an eyebrow mockingly in response even as with a wave of his hand the books were sorted and flying to their places, "Fascinating, isn't it, how doing something fun comes so very soon after how I might find examining your entrails as fun? Careful, I might get ideas." 

     All that had been years upon years ago, he was no longer an uncertain new adult looking for approval and acceptance. In a way, he had just about outlived the family name too, there were not many Cantrells left, and even then his name was the one remembered, which made it all the more amusing that out of every single one of his family who chose dueling names as they went out and proved themselves, he was among the very few who did not choose that name.