The days leading up to the first sparring match progressed quickly. My progress in any area of training did not. I almost wonder if I’ve grown worse, even despite the extra training Pineherth assigns me on a near nightly basis. My swordplay is terrible, my hand to hand laughable, and the bows I still refuse to touch.

  Ryker’s nerves have become more apparent than my own at this point, amplified by his constant begging to help. It’s become easier to just slip into the shadows, hiding in some odd nook to get a moment to myself. The last few nights I’ve taken to roaming in solitude, finding new secrets, hidden behind strange doors that lead to nowhere. It’s not like I can sleep, anyway.

  That is all because of today, the terror of this moment having built to such an extreme that I can do nothing but stare helplessly into a bowl of untouched porridge. I do my best to avoid Ryker and Kieran, who shoot me nervous glances but thankfully stay quiet as I contemplate my demise. Alec, on the other hand, is almost overcome with excitement, felt in the shaking of the table as he bounces his legs with an erratic hunger for blood.

  “You should eat, Mae, I-” Ryker starts, only to be cut off by my raised hand.

  By now, even Ryn has soaked up the rippling fear, now flying around the muck hall, unable to stay still. I watch him as he soars, typically up in the highest corners. He spends much of his day above ground, but often returns to Kieran. A part of me is still quite jealous, but at least Ryn likes me enough to perch occasionally on my shoulder.

  As the day moves on, I can no longer ignore it, the time for the match is here. We stand from the table, my legs almost shaking, and make our way to Moonridge, where Suncrest will meet us before I can take a full breath.

  When we enter, the room has changed, holding only a center stage composed of thin, black mats, the boundary line drawn in thick, white chalk. The day is bleak, making the light from the ceiling dampened, the room instead lit by crackling candles. The room seems to mimic my mood, so lacking of life that it can do nothing but brood.

  Pineherth waits expectantly, her hands crossed behind her back, assessing her group as we come to a stand. Once we have gathered, she gives some speech, but I don’t catch most of it, so preoccupied with the twisting of my stomach, which feels as if it’s knotted itself into a noose.

  As my mind seems to hum, Suncrest strides in, led by their Sergeant who is followed closely by the pack. Alec struts at the front, almost licking his lips in anticipation.

  “Now that we have all gathered,” Pineherth claps, the sound cracking my ears, “Each pair of students will enter the mat one at a time. It is your job to get the other to yield. Do not kill each other,” she says firmly, her eyes flicking to Alec’s band, “Our sacred home, Leiyetta, does not condone such actions.”

  Alec takes no notice of this, instead eyeing me with sociopathic desire.

  She clears her throat and rambles on, her voice growing more fuzzy with each haunting word, “Your sparring partners have already been selected. First we-”

  “Wait, what?!” Alec yells, head snapping to the Sergeants, “We don’t get to choose?”

  Pineherth raises an eyebrow, and the other's face falls in his hand, “We’ve been over this, Ambrathi. You do not get to choose.” He sighs through his fingers.

  Alec gapes at the instructors, and shoots me an even harsher glare. I shrink back into Ryker, who refuses to drop the pack's intense stare.

  “First,” Pineherth calls, bringing the attention back, “Nightawk and Ophera.”

  Kieran blinks away his surprise, looking at the boy called Ophera. He is tall, but not as tall as the boys, and carries a good amount of muscle. His hair is brown and shorn close to his scalp, but despite the rugged appearance, he has to swallow his fear as he approaches the mat, looking wearily at Kieran. It’s funny to think that others may fear him, I often forget they do.

  The boys step onto the mat, and Kieran raises his fists. Ryker and I move to the front of the crowd, all the while he mutters under his breath, his hand tracing his mouth, eyes sharp and assessing. Training is the only time Ryker stays serious, almost like this is his temple, and anything short of primal concentration would be disrespectful.

  Pineherth blows a whistle, and the boys begin to circle each other as if they are partners in a deadly dance. Kieran holds back, waiting for Ophera to strike. It doesn’t take long, and soon he engages, lunging forward, preparing a brutal strike.

  But Kieran is quick, and steps to the side, making sure to kick out his knee. Ophera crumbles, but soon comes to a stand, now quite flushed, and reducing pressure on his leg. Kieran spots this at once, shown in the way he positions his legs, ready to exploit the weakness. The boy does not notice, too preoccupied with his scraps of a plan.

  In the end, it did not take long for Kieran to take Ophera to the floor, his arm locked tight around his throat, making the boy yield after only a minute of strained attempts to flee.

  Not long after, Alec's name was drawn. He faced off against the boy named Zepisky. This pairing was rather cruel, as Zepisky stands a head shorter than Ambrathi, his limbs like straw in comparison. It was only a moment before Alec took hold of his neck, snapping it in one fatal crack. The boy crumbled so quickly it seemed that he was a figment of imagination, and we still couldn’t believe it even as Alec was sent off. He was assigned to the kitchens, as punishment for his crimes. And as he left, it was a smile spread across his cracked lips.

  The sound still echoes in my mind, even as my own name is called, that snap consuming my remaining will to survive.

  “Fangera and Panthera, approach the mat.”

  Pineherth’s voice vibrates clear down to my toes, and I almost fall to my knees. Ryker stiffens beside me, his eyes holding a new level of fear. And Kieran’s face hardens, as he looks at Panthera, who has a frown etched onto his lips, as if disappointed.

  I swallow heavily, and Ryker has to nudge me forward, for I’ve almost grown roots into the ground. My feet feel numb as I enter the ring, facing a man who is over eight inches taller than me, his physique so statue-like it would take a poison tipped arrow to pierce through him.

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  Panthera saunters lazily onto the platform, sighing under his breath without a hint of respect. As much as I wish this added fuel to my fire, it only reminds me of the truth. That this match is a clear path to death.

  Pineherth sounds her whistle, and Panthera makes no move. Nor do I, having nowhere to go, nothing to do. We stay like this, at a complete stand still, for many moments, until even the crowd has begun to murmur, accompanied by hissing snickers from Alec’s pack.

  Unable to bear it, I take a step forward, tripping over my own feet from the nerves, stumbling close to the petrifying man. He groans and steps aside, punching me in my gut as I come too near. The crowd yelps for me, my own exclaim lost with my breath, and Ryker swears loudly, enough to momentarily block out the pack's howling laughs.

  Refusing to drop to the floor without a fight, I try to sweep out my leg as Kieran did. But just as I approach contact, Panthera snags my ankle, pulling my leg up, forcing the other out from under me. I slam into the ground, groaning as I roll onto my side. I can almost feel blood leak into my mouth, my ribs now burning like coal.

  Panthera kicks hard into my side, suppressing me as I try to come to a stand. I fight scrappily, desperately trying to earn back some respect, but only manage to untie his shoes, which have already made another tremendous impact.

  Panting and almost in tears, Panthera at last stops kicking me to blood, stepping back to observe, his hands tucked tauntingly in his pockets.

  I look up as blood trickles from my temple, connecting with dark, unfeeling eyes, the pack's hissing taunts, so much like slicing, barren winds, filling my mind.

  Panthera lifts his foot, the sole smeared with blood, and ignores Ryker’s protesting yell, which is soon drowned out by a sickening crack. And just like that, I fall back to black.

  ???

  Sheer, billowing fabrics sway idly over my head. There is a light breeze, scented with earth and pine. And the room is lit by the sun, though very dimly.

  I dig my fingers into the blanket, which is much softer than the one on my bed, the sheets perfectly white. A soft groan escapes my mouth, soon followed by a raging pain. My head aches with unbelievable agony, my neck feeling partially snapped.

  Movement spurs from the corner of my eye and I bolt upright, throwing the immediate rise of nausea into the wind. But I relax when I find them, slouching in my seat. The Thornbern twins sit relieved before me.

  “Took you long enough, girl,” Kaiya sighs, stretching her arms wide.

  “How are you feeling?” Xena asks gently, pinching her sister with ferocity.

  I think back, at last remembering why I must be here.

  “This is the infirmary, isn’t it?”

  The twins exchange a grimace, Kaiya rubbing the back of her neck, “It wasn’t pretty.”

  I do my best to suppress my frown, looking around the room.

  The infirmary is much like I had thought it would be; asylum white and reeking of pain. Some beds stand covered by white curtains, the faint call of moaning heard clearly through the thin fabrics. Others are made neatly, with perfect folds and complexion, pretending they haven’t seen numerous gruesome fates come to a close. The room is large and tall, with a few small windows, but even after my glance around, I am disappointed. Which is strange, for Ryn perches on my bed curtain, watching me with silent focus. Why would he be here without Kieran?

  “They’re not here,” Xena says, her eyes curious.

  My brows scrunch, expecting further explanation, relieved to have Ryn soar from his post, landing on my leg while keeping his eyes glued to my neck.

  “Tell me, Fangera, how did you wind up with two boyfriends like that?” Kaiya smirks, ignoring the twist of my face and moving on, “They went totally ballistic after…well, you remember. It took over a dozen of us to peel them off of Alec’s pack. Lucky for Panthera he stayed out of reach, the look of Kierans face…gods, I’ll be thinking about that later.”

  Kaiya looks to her twin eagerly, her pupils expanding with desire, but only finds a thick roll of eyes, “They’re serving punishments now.” Xena clarifies.

  This makes me tear my legs from under the covers, Ryn flying off with a disgruntled call as I grasp for my clothes which sit folded on a rolling, metal table, “Where are they?”

  The twins shrug, standing from their seats, allowing me to strip my hospital gown and replace it with my own clothes. I take off from the infirmary, ignoring the calls of the haggard nurse, disappearing down the hall with Ryn flying over my shoulder.

  Ryn soars ahead of me, flaring his wings wide and calling loudly. I skid to a stop, narrowly missing him. He flips around, chasing down a small hall, and I follow after him, pinching myself for not thinking of using his talent sooner.

  After three spiral staircases, two excruciatingly long hallways, and four strange doors, we at last come to a dim room, filled to the brim with rusted and dusty weapons. Sitting at the center, Ryker and Kieran are crouched on their knees, scrubbing the metal until it gleams.

  As the door slams into the wall, the boys start, Kieran jumping to his feet so quickly he almost takes out Ryker, who has an ancient sword cocked behind his head.

  They see me and release a tight breath, Ryker dropping the sword with a crash, “Gods, Fangera,” he shakes his head, “Always the dramatics.”

  Kieran meets me in quick steps, his eyes running over me so many times it seems like a spasm, “Are you alright?” He asks, his hand winding behind my neck, tilting my head to check.

  I flinch as he does so, and he pulls away immediately, taking a step back as Ryker joins his side.

  “Fine,” I pant, still out of breath, “The Thornberns said you were being reprimanded, I thought…” flashes of blood and broken bones fill my mind.

  Ryker grins, nudging my shoulder, “Is our little Mauvie worried about us?”

  I roll my eyes, but return a smile, relieved they aren’t being drained of their souls in some eerie dungeon, and allow the pain I had been ignoring to fill my blood like tar.

  “Just polishing,” Ryker shrugs, looking around the room, which is filled to the brim with strange instruments of battle.

  “Do you remember-” Kieran starts, cutting himself off at the darkening of my eyes.

  I take a seat, slouching against the door, my head spinning so much I may throw up all over the frigid floor.

  “Was it that bad?” I ask, the pain throbbing with each beat of my heart.

  Ryker’s face hardens as he takes a seat, “I could’ve killed him.”

  “He got off clean,” Kieran adds, his voice like sandpaper.

  I run my fingers through my hair, not seeing the boys even though they sit a foot away. I always knew I was going to die here, that my skills are similar to that of a newborn child. So why does it hurt so much that it’s here? Shouldn’t I be relieved, to know nothing great will be expected of me?

  And then there’s Panthera, who turns my blood to poison and skin prickled with thorns. I can’t say there are many in my life who drive me to such anger, but Panthera makes the top of that list. Everything about him is terrible; his slack face, his deadly eyes, even his deep, taunting voice, which seems so similar to those I’ve heard before. And to give him the satisfaction of besting me like that, for all to see, without even having to try. Gods, I want to rip out his spine.

  After brooding in my pity for longer than I care to admit, I allow a dangerous train of thought to consume my mind. It is likely impossible, and even quite ridiculous, but could I ever forgive myself if I did not try?

  I look up to Ryker, now set and determined.

  He gazes back, almost afraid, “What?”

  “I want you to train me,” I say firmly, ignoring the wide eyes and growing, smug smile, “I want you to train me so that when the time comes, I can kill Panthera, and I can make Alec wish he never learnt my name.”

  Ryker smiles maniacally, nodding with eager excitement.

  Kieran raises an eyebrow, and sighs, “Well, finally.”