[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]In contrast to Julien, this was Aurelie's first excursion to this particular fencing club. She hadn't practiced with an épée or saber in almost ten years, though she'd been quite passionate about it as a teenager. She'd even competed in a few competitions back then, though only at the school and city level. But her fencing studies had fallen by the wayside as she focused more on smithing and metalworking.

As she'd resumed studying swordsmanship in the past few months, though, Aurelie decided to take up fencing training again, if only to see how rusty she was. To her own surprise, she'd done reasonably well yesterday night, when she'd been matched up against a couple intermediate-level fencers. Not bad for someone who had two eyes the last time they did this, she thought wryly.

In further contrast to Julien, who regarded her with a polite lack of recognition, the redhead did recognize him with a start, followed by a nervous gulp. Even years later, Aurelie remembered the tall, classically handsome fencer with the silvery hair and golden eyes who had competed in the national championships and set all the girls—and some of the boys—swooning. He'd placed each year, if memory served, though she couldn't remember if he'd ever been crowned champion.

"Hi," she replied brightly. "I'm Aurelie. I believe I remember watching you at the Kalosian fencing championships. It's a pleasure to meet you. And to have a chance to spar against you."

With that, Aurelie unsheathed her épée and positioned herself with her feet shoulder-width apart, with her right foot forward and pointing toward Julien. Then she extended the arm holding the épée forward and then pulled it backward gracefully, raising the sword so the hilt hovered before her lips. She smiled faintly and nodded her head to Julien, completing the customary salute.

Then she slipped the mask over her head and slid into the en-garde stance, bending her knees without moving her feet. Bending her left arm behind her back, Aurelie swept the épée forward so her forearm was parallel to the ground and subtly shifted her weight a little. Behind the mask, she eyed Julien warily, studying his posture and frame for clues and trying to jog her memory about his fencing style.

Nothing was on the line here but pride and bragging rights, but pride was enough to make her not want to appear a complete fool before him.

"En garde!" she said. "Allez!"

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]He was much better than Aurelie was, there was no doubt about that. All of Julien's movements looked seamless and flawless, with no excess energy or wasted motion. He fenced as efficiently and precisely as if he were a machine, every thrust, parry, and riposte crisply and expertly executed with catlike balance and unerring accuracy. At the end, he hardly looked like he'd broken a sweat.

In contrast, a fine sheen of perspiration shone across Aurelie's brow as she pulled off her mask, her face flushed and her expression pleased, despite her clear defeat. Her lips curved into a soft, self-deprecating smile at his brief words.

"You're very kind," she replied, inclining her head and shaking his hand. "Thank you for the spar. You certainly lived up to expectations."

I'm clearly out of practice, she thought wryly, especially with épée fencing. Even ten years ago, Aurelie had specialized more in saber fencing rather than foil or épée. She'd caught herself several times trying to score hits with the cutting edge, rather than just the tip of the blade.

But even ten years ago...well, there was a reason why Julien had been the one competing at the national championships back then, while Aurelie watched on TV. And tonight, while her reflexes and speed were good, her form was frequently sloppy and her impaired depth perception was more of a problem than usual, given the strictness and precision of fencing. She'd forgotten a lot too, for sure.

With all that, Aurelie was thankful not to have been a complete pushover against Julien. Giving him a polite wave goodbye, she headed toward the leather-covered benches lining the wall and set down her épée. After the spar, she wanted to do some toe touches and other stretches to cool down.

She'd just bent down and was extending her hands toward her feet when the lights overhead suddenly went out, leaving the salle in utter darkness. A few seconds later, a blood-curdling, terror-filled scream echoed from upstairs, followed by the sound of rapidly scurrying footsteps.

"What the hell...?" Aurelie breathed, straightening a little too fast and nearly banging her head into a bench. In the dark, she groped blindly for her phone to turn on flashlight mode. Her fingers encountered the hilt of her épée instead, which she grasped gladly enough. "What even is up there? Is there an attic or storage room upstairs?"

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]A chill of apprehension ran down Aurelie's spine when someone in the darkness declared that the lights wouldn't turn on. A moment later, she located her phone inside her bag and pulled it out. She turned on flashlight mode and shone it around the salle at the group of worried faces, just as Julien announced he was checking out what was happening upstairs.

"I'll come with you," Aurelie exclaimed immediately, on impulse. There was something comforting about doing something actively, compared to waiting nervously in the dark for the power to come back on. "I can at least watch your back."

When he released his Magneton to cast off bright sparks that lit up their surroundings, she blurted out, "Oh, what a good idea." Hurrying behind him, she transferred her épée to her other hand and fished around in her bag for a Pokeball of her own.

Releasing her Volcarona, Aurelie nodded in satisfaction as its glowing wings and blazing scales radiated fiery light around it. She gestured for the moth-like Pokemon to fly along her right, while she aimed her phone's flashlight to the left. With Julien's Magneton illuminating the way forward, the four of them lit up a reasonable field of vision as they ascended the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, the Magneton's sparks and Volcarona's glow shone on a pair of terrified-looking staff members. One of them, a slender young man, was crying softly as he lay curled into a ball beside a stack of wooden crates and cardboard boxes. The other, an older woman with dark hair, trembled and hugged herself, her face pale with fright as she looked uncomprehendingly at Julien and Aurelie.

"There's something there..." she whispered hoarsely, sweat beading across her brow. They both recognized her voice as the one that'd screamed earlier. "I don't know what it wants, but it just won't leave. It's just lurking there, watching...waiting..."

"Wait, what do you mean?" Aurelie burst out, her eye widening in shock. "Who is it? What's going on?"

The woman opened her mouth, but it was the young man who answered, choking on a low sob. "It's a ghost! I'm sure of it! I saw him back there! Make him go away! Please..."

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]Offering a comforting smile to the trembling woman, Aurelie lingered at the top of the stairs in hopes of questioning her some more, when Julien stalked toward the storage room's door. His confident, even dismissive words bewildered her, considering how distraught the two staff members looked. Surely, something that scared them both this much won't be that easy? she thought.

The redhead had just turned back toward the staff members, when she heard a sudden clatter from past the door where Julien had gone. Aurelie whirled around just in time to see a Banette charge at Julien. To her horror, she also saw its shadow stretching and extending behind Julien to strike at his back.

"Watch out!" Aurelie cried out, lunging forward but knowing she would be too late.

However, her warning did alert Julien's Magneton that something was wrong. Whirring around rapidly, the Magneton's crackling sparks intensified into a wondrous wall of light that served to REFLECT the Banette's striking shadow. The Banette gnashed its doll's mouth as its attack was deflected away from Julien.

"Séraphin, quick! Try FIERY DANCE against that Banette," Aurelie told her Pokemon, relieved that harm had been averted. Her moth-like Pokemon flitted forward and cloaked its wings in flames, which it then shot at the ghostly Banette.

"Wait a minute!" cried the lady staff member, peering in through the door behind Aurelie. "A Banette? That's not what we saw! We saw a headless man covered in blood, with its chest all caved in…"

Suddenly, loud, rapid steps pounded up the stairs behind them. A tall, aristocratic-looking gentleman with silver-streaked black hair, whom Aurelie recognized from the grand portrait in the front hall as the fencing club's owner, rushed breathlessly past the two women, as if not even noticing them. He did flash a look of recognition at Julien as he sprinted frantically through the storage room's door.

Even the battling Pokemon paused, as if unsure what to make of this interruption. The tall man's eyes were wide and agitated as he hurriedly produced an antiquated-looking metal flask. "No! Wait!" he shouted. "With this offering, I lay thee to rest!"

Uncorking the flask, he poured out the contents onto the ground. Aurelie wrinkled her nose. It smelled like...iron. Like...blood?

As the last drops fell to the floor, the lights suddenly flicked back on, and the air-conditioning hummed back into operation. Aurelie's mouth dropped open. What in Arceus' name, was all she could think, just happened?

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT

[attr="class","aurelie"]

[attr="class","aurelie_body"]It all happened so fast. The attack, the different Pokemon's reactions, the sudden appearance of the fencing club's owner, and the...exorcism he performed? Aurelie didn't know what else to call it, even though it was hard to believe. But the lights were back on and the Banette retreating as it seemingly lost the will to fight, presumably as the man's...ghost was dispelled.

Hard as it was to believe, there must be some truth to what the owner was saying. The thought sent a chill down Aurelie's spine. Ghost-type Pokemon were spooky enough, but real ghosts? She shivered uncomfortably at the thought.

Aurelie shook her head to clear it and then recalled her Volcarona back to its Pokeball. Whether ghosts really existed or not was a debate for another day. She couldn't help raising her eyebrows and pressing her lips together when the owner requested secrecy about the haunted salle and the man who'd been murdered here.

On one hand, a haunted salle was unsettling, but on the other hand, it was intriguing. And if this fencing club was the best way to get to spar against consummately skilled opponents like Julien... The redhead looked thoughtfully at him and then fixed her gaze sharply on the distinguished-looking owner.

"Very well, I at least won't say a word," she replied, lifting her chin.

Then Aurelie lifted an index finger in the air and went on, "But in return, I think a steep discount—or even complete exemption—for all membership fees for this club would be much appreciated. For both of us," she added, with another sidelong glance at Julien. "And maybe a nice gift basket, if you're feeling so inclined."

The owner simply stared for a moment, as if taken aback at the prospect of being shaken down by this strange, impertinent redhead. Aurelie let her eye flicker toward the telltale pool of blood on the floor. The man sighed. "I'll think about it," was all he said, pursing his lips tightly.

A pleased little smirk lit up Aurelie's face as the five of them—she, Julien, the owner, and the still very shaken staff members—trooped down the stairs and descended back into the salle. Everyone seemed relieved and excited to have the electricity back on, and spars and fencing exercises had resumed with even more energy than before. Aurelie was happy to join them, saying goodbye to Julien and politely requesting a rematch another day.

Every now and then, though, during a quiet moment, she found herself glancing back up at the stairs to the upstairs storage room again. Is this salle really haunted? she kept wondering. Are ghosts really...real?

[attr="class","cred"]VEL OF PIXEL PERFECT