23 Leal

The training ring could either be one of the best or the worst way to forget the incidents of the past. Even if it only meant a few minutes of liberty, it is what I want. Two girls, unarmed fight each other with a cordial ferocity, combatting and revolting with the skills they have acquired under the guidance of their mentors. They are the Aces of years prior, while one is said to govern the current the other has control over water. Two deadly powers that intervenes with nature tingles at the tip of their finger. And yet they fight fair as mortals in the ring while the rest of us watch with keen eyes.

I am too deep in eagerness to feel the presence of Dorin beside me until he speaks up.

"Easy there. Some might suspect you of catching feelings for one of the twins by the way you keep gaping at them" He says standing with his hand clasped behind.

"They are twins?" Though they both have blonde hair, no other features of their resemble.

"Lara and Cara?" He nods "Yes"

"So that's their name"

"They can wield-

"I know what they can do," I say while the taller girl, who I suspect was Lara dunks at the moment to evade a nasty kick to her shoulder blade. There's an abrupt cheer from some of the watchers who paid attention like me.

"And yet you were unaware of their names?" I do not have to look at him to know that he has his expression schooled to be snoopy. I crouch on one of my knees to fasten the laces of my boots, still keeping an eye on the fight. It's been a week since the incident that shook the very foundation of ordinance in Antar. With many injured and the death of the king- the secrets kept so far have evolved into a conspiracy of the present. The people have begun to voice questions and fears, while some blame Rixile the remainder suspect war. With the eruption of chaos, the demand for explanations has created a lawlessness in the land. The kingdom is now in the hands of a twenty-two-year-old boy who hides his true strength beneath a sheath.

And I could only imagine the weight that must have harbored upon his shoulders as his coronation nears.

A ticking terror settles in my chest when I think of that night. The Avloths had almost had me and if weren't for the intervention of Ezdan I could have been long gone by now. What would they have done to me if had they succeeded? Where do they live? How do they rule?

What is it that they want from me?

These questions haunt my nights and the only time I am not thinking of the affliction is when I get to watch random Armins fight in the ring.

The Aces and the remaining of the treasured warriors from the Found under the training were immediately escorted to the underground shelter after the attack. With an excavation bunker to sleep in and coaching halls to loiter there isn't much we could do. Privacy was a myth here. So any question that Dorin had for me- never left his heart. But the manner his gaze would always find me I know he knows that I am no more the same girl he grew up with.

It is said that the attack had been sternly brutal upon the Ace's quarters, almost like the intruders were searching for something.

I shiver at the thought of what I know they have been looking for.

They perhaps had two reasons to be here that night-

To kill the sarkim and to take me hostage.

They did succeed with one of their motives.

The death of Antarian Sarkim shouldn't faze me, his end should bring peace to us Helians as it has done to Dorin. While the rest of the warriors mourned with silence for a couple of days Dorin had used the time to eat a lot and train the most. Though being under the same roof he wouldn't risk talking to me about our last encounter in this confined space. But his subtle sentiment couldn't elude my ever-mapping eyes. He was happy that our banisher had died.

And I should be feeling the same. the indifference, the relief, the justice. Yet all I could think of was- the state of grief Ezdan must be in at the sight of losing his father. The sarkim who sacrificed his morals to keep his son safe. The man beneath the crown had a heart beating with love for his son. His kingdom. His throne.

And to see the fallen faces of his people surrounding me, I realized that though enemy to us- He was a great king to them.

"We need to talk soon," he says stiffly unaware of the madness I am about to partake in. Wadding the hem of my pants in two folds I look up at him "We can't keep avoiding this any longer" he sums.

Dorin has plans in mind, loose threads of how he wants to escape this confinement. I think of Moranas suggestion. Erix wanted me to leave too. But is it heedful to leave a palace ground when danger seems to lurk anywhere within my vicinity? I have no hope of survival unless people keep tending to me. And now, I want to change that.

"Tell me how I can win one of these?" Counter to his statements I intend to jam further into the community I am living in. They know me as the boy with mysterious strength who spends his time around a human torch like Dorin or slouching by the corner staring at his bird wobble in a cage. None efforts to approach me. But I will change that today."You know the trick around these sets, You've won most of your matches. Do me this favor-

His hand is on the cusp of my neck and he is dragging me away from the crew with minus regard to my blabbering protests. I stem my shoes in the ground to stop him from embarrassing me further. It works thankfully or he is just generous.

His lips are tight and his eyes judgemental, asking me a fair question silently.

Are you mental?

I bite my tongue, answering.

"I know what I am doing," I say calmly.

"You really are born with a goat's brain" He shakes his head knowing well he cannot make me think otherwise. I am released from his clutch when I look behind to notice the duel has ended. The caller applauds and examines around appealing for a volunteer. I raise my hand up as Dorin yanks at my elbow in desperation. But it's too late. The caller beams at me with his surprised stare and a still silence seems to settle upon my decision. I see a wide-eyed Slate somewhere around the crowd before previously uninterested bystanders shuffle to stand by the clear view of the ring.

"Mr. Kasper, please do come forward" The nimble announcement is all I need to march a step ahead. Once inside the ring, a shudder builds up under my skin with the number of eyes on me. I search for Dorin and he is there, his gaze strong on me. He nods once when he sees the craving for encouragement I am depraved of. It brings a small smile to my face, to have him accept my imbecility. He perhaps was contemplating the ways to tend my wounds after the fight in detail or he was simply utterly supportive of me even in my suicidal quests.

"Is there anyone who seeks to play the opponent?" My eyes scan the crowd for the numerous folks to volunteer. But none I see steps forward. Inwardly I frown at the hesitance in their faces, but soon somewhere to my left, a hand stretched. Evander Hollins, the poison weaver rises from his seater, a sick smile pinches his lips as he strides in my direction.

"It would be an honor," the Fourth Ace from the found said, bringing his hand forward for me to shake. The moment I took his touch a swamp of his hostility and envy towards me coursed through, like a stream of toxic river all his intentions to prove me invalid in the eyes of his peers came undone. I stopped prying on his privacy and smiled with what I assume was an innocent sweetness. It must have been the first time for him and others around seeing me do this.

Smile.

His resolve wavers the slightest before he takes his arm away.

Evander Hollins doesn't need to be dissected to display his dislike for me. The sourness of his face at the sight of me has been a constant. But to me, he is the first miracle of Arminhood i witnessed in the Found when he defeated a colossal serpent with his lethal contact. The ability that he cannot use under the ring we were in.

The charmed barrier by the floor surrounding us nullifies the powers as soon as the action begins.

He was tall, built like a man of iron. To anyone outside this was a one-way win. I have no chance to stand against him physically. Yet I do not plot to cower away. A loud blare declares the beginning. We hold our gaze. Prepare our stance. And start with the one thing anticipated from us.

Fight.

He hustles at me. Sparing not an ounce of time to schedule his merciless punches. Good. I do not require his pity. I hop here to welcome the pain. I fence his advances, the first I rail. The second I duck. The third I take. The world is numb for a second before the ache in my jaw settles feverishly. I warm up at the snickers and gasps when his knee lifts, targeting my ribs. I doubled in pain as Evander tugged at my collar to thrive at my bloodied face after he had my nose bashed. There is a vile contentment in him that vanishes as soon as I offer him a provoking smile.

He throws me across.

I land on my side, the rough concrete grainy against my impending wounds.

"You sure hate me a lot don't you mate?" I comment staggering on my feet to get up. I fail once. He takes that as an opportunity to kick me further. I wheeze a chuckle. Despite the attitude I had decided to spew, I flinch at the sudden grasp of his on my shoulder through which he hoists me up on my feet.

The world is so slow when you are in pain.

I blink the water filling my eyes cause of the stinging nose.

"Quit uttering nonsense" he warns glaring. I squint accompanied by a fancy grin. I wonder what stage of lunatic would i be appearing to my audience with such fanatics. "You brawl without pride" his gritty whisper amuses me more, and inhaling a dry breath I wink.

"That's because I haven't begun to fight yet"

When my first hook meets his stomach, he is unprepared. But when my elbow almost shatters his jaw it's when I credit myself with a small victory. My speed of recovery is immaculate as I dodge his attacks and succeed with mine. Though small I am quick, so lucid with all the movements from the week's observation I gained through the countless matches I devoured this week.

The segments I hadn't allowed myself to forget. The instances I realize I cannot forget. My memory- it has morphed into a sponge- soaking every last drop of knowledge I desire to latch on to. The trick is to focus and store. And I have stored combat this week. And by the discovery of such proficiency, I now feel what it takes to be a ventim.

An Armin and Ventim in a single body. What else can a piece of stone possess?

Fighting has always aided more with the technique than with raw strength. It meant I had seen Dorin lose to a man sizes smaller than him- similar to how my situation was. I slug, relax, and gauge my surroundings. I dodge his punches, get closer to him, and tire him out. He is so confident with his arms that he momentarily forgets about his legs, I entangle them with mine and knock us both off balance. Luckily my recovery is prompt, Crawling up on him I shove his shoulder down - punching his sturdy face with all I have.

Again-

Again-

and Again.

I do it until there is not retaliation in him left.

When the shrill of the horn reaches my buzzing ears, I stop. I slip and plummet on my back beside him. My breathing is shallow when I turn my head to look at the increasing cheers and applause. Somewhere in between I spot a mane of platinum white. My gaze skims over the sculpted face of Erix- it's thoroughly unreadable. A blank canvas that was almost ready for red-hot splashes of anger. His arms are neatly crossed by his broad chest- he occupies more space than needed as the onlookers split away from him.

A week.

For A week I had been a model student and he chose today to witness my bloodbath.

Crouching and crawling I gather up. Standing on my feet is exhausting but I move to reach him. He says nothing but turns to leave- I hop and wobble on my good leg following him like an obedient pet. He bears the stories of the world outside and he is here to quietly summon me. The more my breathing relaxed as we made our way out to the opening the easier it was to predict the emotions in his scent.

He is restraining himself. Controlling his rage to the point of silencing everything in him. Once in the safety of a far-long path to a hidden river stream in the forest. I speak.

"How is he?" the brisk evening wind whisks our hair and attire into a flutter. He shifts to pin me with a stare so hard that I forget to live for a second.

"Like how a Sarkim should be. Busy" he grunts "Perhaps bothered by the knowledge of what painful nuisance you are up to"

I had forgotten completely of the bond we are shackled in. Can he feel it? My bruises through our bond? Does he care for my pain like I seem to care unconsciously of his grief. Weak on my knees I move to the stream, Removing my blonde toupee I crouch to clean my blood-stricken face with water. I wet the tip of my hair to retain its moisture and when I move to sit on the grass- a vial of stimulant is shoved upon my face. I take it.

"For what?"

He gaze searches my face as if he was looking at an object of his precious interest. He clears his throat and steals his eyes from me when I arch my brow for my impending question.

"For your bruises" he replied.

"Do you carry these around with you?" tipping the vial I down in the healing charm and feel the dose sealing away my wounds and swell, working instantly. With the pain vanishing from my system I now see Erix in a favorable light. He is infinitely times more displeased than he was before. "Thank you," I say as I stood up while he watches me with a strange mix of fascination and abhorrence.

"What is your name?" he asks me with an icy rumble in his tone. The mischievous Erix who makes silly remarks appears as a distant memory. It also is a reminder of how he isn't aware of my name after having spent so much time with each other. snowflake he called me. But not once he thought of asking me for my name.

He was either neglectful or didn't consider me of importance.

I bet on latter.

"Iris" I don't hide. There wasn't a reason to. "Iris Lavera"

When he closed his eyes, I notice the length of his lashes. The stimulant has caused dizziness to swarm over me so instead of associating my surprise with his blatantly disturbed reaction I sigh at his beauty and the offense of it.

His hypnotic stares are sad for me. On me. so I whisper an apology.

"I am sorry" mumbling I peer at him "I shouldn't have behaved so ignorant . My mind was in a terrible place after the Aveloths attack and I-

I wince when he rushed to me, carefully pausing when my discomfort became probable. He opened his mouth merely to press tight his lips again. He breathed as if he was bottling a million questions but none that he was ready to hear the answer for. The sun was low on the horizon, painting the sky with brilliant orange, but they were quite nowhere near to defeat the elegance of blue that Erix eyes are.

I rest my back by the trunk of a tree, burying my face in my palms with a sigh. I mustn't be thinking such ridiculous notions about my said mentor. Or a seamless murderer. But I seem to be heavily sedated to think straight. My wisdom still lies in the plane- but I was too depleted to keep it running.

I feel his fingers graze mine, his skin is bare without the protection from me. His touch hesitates for a flash before they boldly pry them away from hiding my face. He sees my tear-stricken cheeks and his concern crowds me. It's  limitless- like he himself was lost at the idea of fretting for me.

"Did something happen?" he asks, leaving my hand to grab my face. I tilt away from his touch scared of mistaking him for a man with heart. It's uncomplicated to know him as someone untouchable- detached from the laws of humanity. It makes it easier to remember that night in Keld. His concern drifts away, hardening into a demanding query. "What did you see in Arrans cell? What did you see into your future?"

To know this moment was right around the nook and yet to not be prepared to deal with the consequence must put me in a spot of fear. But the gentle rim to his asking veils his question to a request. A shiver travels my spine at the prospect of revealing my truth to someone. I have been so alone, lonely with my secrets that it has me caged so tightly that I couldn't breathe. My lips quiver- vulnerable and excited by the idea that someone was forcing this out of me. But my voice drops to my chest when I realize who is it that asks-

A lord who I don't trust. I haven't found a reason to trust him. But the sincerity in his eyes is no less than a plead. An apology. But for what?

"I saw his past"

A razor-sharp gasp vacates me and my eyes open wide at what I have unwantedly revealed. This is not what I meant to say- Erix's stare blazes with confusion and then surprise. Not at the expense of my shock- but at the truth. Afraid I take a hesitant step from him, he moved to suspend the distance, far enough to let me surrender. But close so that he can catch me from escaping.

"You can see the past?" he sucked in a visible breath, reaching for my arm which I snatch from him.

"Yes" I squeak- unable to hold my voice from him. He was commanding it out of me. "What is happening?" I ask fervently, inspecting around for his soldier who might hide in here to trap me. Arran had his fate where he was misunderstood, will I meet the same end? "Why can't I lie?"

I shout a cry at him. His gaze passively falls on the empty vial of stimulant plopped by the earth. The one he had offered me for my wounds. It's a slap to my face, a stab to my guts, I shake my head with a defeated sob. My legs gives up and I fall to my knees. He pursues my suit- not caring for the dirt staining pants.

Suppressing my ambition to defy him, I glare through my tears. He has me intoxicated and weak yet dares to appear supportive with a sly nod as if he understands.

He cannot.

He doesn't know what's  it's like to be this helpless. This vulnerable where you can't even trust your voice.

I cannot lie.

I cannot lie anymore.

For the first time in my life, I cannot lie because I don't have to. But because I just cannot.

The sky is somber now, the sun has left the last strip of her light to remind me of how soon the time can change. How soon the intentions of a person can break your pride. How easy it is for them to shatter me.

How fast can a world turn dark.

The silence weighed heavily, swallowed by the time he gave me to recover.

"Are you going to hurt me?" I ask, the honesty blaring out of me as I ask. The tremble of apprehension was raw in my utterance. In the quiver of my lips. In the wetness of my eyes.

His frown is vigorous.

"It's quite the other. I want to protect you"

"For your use?"

His jaw stiffs, the silver of his hair slides over his forehead.

"If my intentions adhered to such tactics, I wouldn't have asked you to run away when you had the chance" I recall the conversation we had in his chamber where he attempted to convince me to let go. I nod once at the rationality of it. My suspicion of him falters but not wholly. "You are my only hope to save the realm snowflake. So I need to know what you are. It's time you come out of your shell"

I chewed on my bottom lip to have the little grasp of restraint I could muster. My nose flared at how challenging the stimulant made it to fail at control.

If my answers were honest so were the questions that came from the depth of my heart.

"What do you wish to know about me?"

There is tension. There is thought. And then there is his truth.

"Everything"

***

The next chapter will have some good revealations that will change perspectives. Hope you are still here for that :)