There was a 30-minute break before the final fight. Anytime now, she would receive word of which one of the two remaining triplets won. Cosimia let her head rest against the wall. She knew that she couldn't use the same tactics that she had used on Eda for Amorita or Carlin. Both of them are definitely smarter than Eda and they would have heard what happened from Eda herself. She had to come up with a different strategy. But for now she was going to rest and rejuvenate. Just as she let her eyes close, the barrier beeped impatiently. Her mother stood on the other side, hands clasped tightly behind her.

Cosimia pushed herself off the wall and pressed the release button. Mother looked at her with a keen eye, looking for any signs of weakness. She did it to everyone, including the serving people. Cosimia held herself like steel and didn't move. Mother nodded her approval and moved swiftly past her, looking at her weapons on the rack.

"You're ready for the next one?" She said it like a statement, not a question.

"Yes, Mother." If Cosimia were younger, she would've felt a twinge of hurt because Mother didn't congratulate her on her victory. She had learned to not care about what Mother thought. But when Mother turned back to her, Cosimia saw tears glistening in her bright, Solis-colored eyes.

"Oh, my girl, I knew you were going to be the one. I knew you wouldn't let me down like your useless sister." Her face broke into a scowl for a second before returning to the tender expression she had when she looked at Cosimia. Cosimia was confused at this new person standing in front of her. Mother never acted like this. Cosimia took a cautious step towards her and searched her face.

"Mother, are you feeling alright?" Mother chuckled softly.

"I know that I don't normally act like this, because it's what my job makes me do. But even a mother cannot cover up her pride and happiness when she sees her daughter succeed. I knew you could do it. And I know that you'll win the Trials and become Huntress Cosimia Nedias," She smiled for a brief second before straightening out. "I trust that you will pick out the proper weapon to use, unlike that idiot Marusa. Always thought she was not the smartest, but bringing a crossbow to close combat?" Mother shook her head in disgust. "Goddess knows how she was able to become a 10th year. But the way you utilized it was marvelous. Even I wouldn't do that." Cosimia felt the fire in her spark again, as if triggered by the feelings that had begun to spread. Mother left swiftly, pausing at the threshold.
"I will make you forever proud, Mother." Cosimia thumped her fist to her chest and imitated the family symbol. Mother smiled and under her breath, whispered, "You already have." Then she walked out as if nothing had happened.

Cosimia thought for a while about what just happened. The feelings of wanting to please Mother had come back with an uncontrollable vengeance. Now she had even more reason to win. Cosimia had a few moments before the servants came in to mark her. In the Final Trial, they had to dress like the Elders- hair down, face marked with the family symbol, and her family's heirloom armor. She had seen Grandmother's armor before, but only a glimpse- she hadn't ever gotten a chance after that. Geneva would be delivering the armor to her. She drank a few bottles of power serum to help fuel the fire. She liked to think that the the power drink was the gasoline that rekindled the fire. She felt the fire emerge and she welcomed it like long-lost friend. She felt the eager urge to fight but she clamped it down. In time. Almost there. She gritted her teeth and tapped her foot impatiently. She wanted to win and she wanted to win now. As if the Goddess heard her wish, the barrier beeped and there was a small congregation waiting outside for her. The servants were juggling a number of things- clay paint, bristle brushes, weapon straps, and lastly, the armoire containing Grandmother's legendary armor. Her hands itched as they brought it closer, setting it down like it was a fragile piece of moonglass. Geneva smacked her hands together to get rid of the dust.

"Nothing to say to me, sister?" Cosimia said in a lilting voice as the servants opened up the numerous bottles of paint, discussing in hushed tones about the techniques they were going to use and whatnot. Geneva gritted her teeth and looked down, her long hair covering her face like a curtain.

"No. Mother just wanted me to tell you that you will be fighting with Amorita." If not for the fire growing inside me, I would have been overcome with nervousness. But now I just continued to look at her.

"I heard she's particularly eager to win." Geneva said in a sing-songy voice.

"So am I. And I'm going to win. Amorita can be as mad as she pleases but I will still come out victorious."

"Overconfident today, are we?" Geneva sneered. Cosimia regarded her calmly.

"Yes, thank you for noticing. Unless you want to help get me ready, you are dismissed." Geneva sputtered. 

"You can't dismiss me! I'm older than you!" 

Cosimia pinned her with a pointed look and Geneva retreated, eyes narrowed as always. The servants bustled around the small room, tying the ribbons that secured the armor to her underclothes. The armor was beautiful, with armlets that fit her fingers perfectly and pointed heeled boots that would definitely be useful to fight with. It was embroidered with the Nedias symbol, a black ruby crown with two dark swords crossing under it. Because black was her color, the women mixed up a huge batch of black clay paint and smeared it on her face. It was cold against her skin and Cosimia could feel the grainy particles scratching her. The older women expertly did her hair. The Nedias family never fought with helmets so they left her hair, other than a few select strands that were intricately braided, down. They nestled a black ruby diadem on her forehead, the flat surface of the stone cool against her warm skin. It was a welcome break from the constant heat of Solis. The rays had retreated, but they were not gone completely.

"Which strap would you like, my lady?" A timid girl whispered. Cosimia scanned each of them.

"None." Cosimia grabbed Stellam, one of her favorites, and slipped it inside her armor. It disappeared and the girl stared at Cosimia's now empty palm in shock. Cosimia pressed a finger to her lips and turned around, giving her thanks to the servants. Stellam was a large weapon, but portable, which made it an automatic favorite. In truth, it was a thick, steel rod with an iron ball on the top. The ball was studded with razor-sharp spikes that in an attack, she would dip in poison. But since she was not fighting to kill, she skipped the poison part this time. Her hair whipped around her face and the strands tickled the back of her neck. She didn't even need to imagine pulling the fire out anymore. It was so integrated with her that all she needed to do was inhale, exhale, and feel powerful. She stared at herself in the mirror, observing the girl on the other side. This girl was dangerously pretty, with her lightening blue waves and fiery eyes. Cosimia wished she could look at the mirror and know that the reflection was her in all ways, but this girl was different. Cosimia never strived to look pretty and she had never seen herself with her hair down. It was always up. She wasn't sure if she liked it or not, but keeping it down wasn't her decision to make. It was tradition and she had to follow it. She could see Amorita entering the arena, a small smirk playing on her berry-stained lips. She was lean, lithe, all muscle, unlike Eda. Her dark yellow hair streamed out behind her and she looked like a reincarnation of Solis. Cosimia gritted her teeth. If Amorita was Solis, she would be Lune, one of the moons but the most powerful. The man's voice was clear in her ears as he called her name. This was it. Right now, she would know whether she was touched by the Goddess or not. The real moment of truth.

"Let us welcome back into the arena, Cosimia Nedias!" The man bellowed into the projectophone. She stepped out and walked slowly and leisurely, hips swinging back and forth as she made her way to the center of the arena. She smirked slightly and Cosimia could tell from their bated breath that the audience was enraptured. Amorita slowly raked her eyes up and down Cosimia, in a way that made her skin itch.

"It will be such a pleasure to beat you," Amorita drawled, in that voice that Cosimia despised. Cosimia smiled, like a wolf about to devour its catch.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine."