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Yazia could feel the anger radiate from him. The ringing of clashing steel was deafening, thrusting her blade hard in his direction.

He's not here to play games. But neither am I...

She hopped out of range of his blade to the edge of the ring, and then darted back into attack. The man stumbled forwards, and Yazia saw this as an opportunity to leap into motion. She pushed off the balls of her feet, and swung the sword forward as he staggered.

One lesson that she had learned from her father and would take to the grave was to pin-point the opponent's weakness, even if it was just for a few moments, and strike fast.

There was no room to hesitate any more, let alone think about her next move. Yazia had never lost a duel before, and breaking such a perfect record was unacceptable. This duel only fueled her desire to keep the streak. Losing had never been an option before, and it certainly couldn't be one now.

The man parried, and Yazia thrust her blade forward again. The hilt of the blade began to weigh heavy, and might slip from her palms at any moment. Trickles of sweat formed on her forehead below the warm helmet, and slid down her temple as they battled. They had been at this for some time already, and the smouldering sun above their heads only grew hotter by the minute.

Wasting no more time, Yazia cut from the other side, and then the other. He counter attacked.

Good, very good. Perhaps he was too good. She had fought all her life, and not once had she met an opponent so smooth with his blade. Who challenged her every move.

Sword-fighting was one of the only things she was good at besides dancing. They came hand in hand. You'd put one step in front of the other and move back and forth, back and forth once more and so on. At least until the song comes to a halt, and one of you suffices a loss. Yazia didn't doubt that the Prince of Silvern was a good opponent—he must have trained for combat his entire life. That was something they had in common.

It only encouraged her to see him yield, and grovel on the dirt at her feet.

The longer they stayed out in the heat, the hotter it felt. But Yazia didn't mind, she had been waiting for this very day for months. He attacked first this time, mutating his cuts into a thrust, and then another. Yazia parried his moves desperately, as he pushed her around the ring. He was trying to weaken her, to make her submit to defeat.

It could have worked, but I can't allow for that to happen. I can't dishonor my Father's name like that!

Yazia pushed forward with determination. She parried and dodged his many thrusts. Their swords re-met with another clang. Neither of them wished to give up the initiative, neither wished to yield.

After moments, the tip of her blade broke through his guard. The impact of the collision knocked his iron helmet to the ground with a clank that echoed in the empty arena. It rolled on the dirt next to her feet. He had barely pulled back when the sharp blade cut a small gash across his stricken face.

"Yield" Yazia spat, her breathing coming out heavy. She gazed into his eyes and waited, with her blade pressed tightly against his throat.

"I yield!" He called out. Seemingly confident in his answer, he dropped the sword in defeat, and it rattled on the ground. The fight decided in Yazia's favor, she had won. If only there were people in the ring to see it.

She pulled her sword away from the Prince, and shoved her sticky helmet off. Blonde curls tumbled down across her back in a tousled mess.

"Upon my honor, I have never met with any pleasantly talented women in the craft to this day besides my sister, and now you, Your Royal Highness."

Yazia felt heat rush to her cheeks, and gave a respectful bow. "It is my honor to have competed with you today, Prince Aeneas. Do tell, where is your sister now?"

Prince Aeneas' brows creased together. "She passed away only a few months ago, Your Royal Highness."

Yazia lifted her head back up and straightened in posture. "Oh, I am very sorry to hear this, I would have been delighted to have met her. If you and your family are in need of anything, do let me know, will you?"

"And you, my Lady. If there is anything you need, I am forever in dept to your service."

"Thank you, Prince Aeneas." She bowed her head again but their conversation was interrupted with a clap. Yazia lifted her head and turned around to meet the warming brown-eyes of her brother. "Draven, what are you doing here?"

As usual, Draven did not seem impressed that she had added yet another win to her perfect record. Yazia always felt that he was envious of her swordsmanship, since he was never very good at it.

Father always had a dislike for those who quit the practice.

"Am I not allowed to congratulate my dear sister on her win? It was a rather close one, don't you think? I almost thought you wouldn't get those last moments in."

Yazia cleared her throat. "Thank you for your concern, Draven, but I assure you I can look out for myself," Yazia said, "I hadn't realised that you were watching all this time."

Her brother was not wrong, though. He would always be the only one to congratulate her on all of her victories, except, he'd watch from afar. Yazia glanced up to the window on the far left of the palace.

He's here for something.

"What is it?" she asked and grabbed a piece of cloth on a wooden bench, gliding her blade's edge over it gently, to clean the blood.

"Oh, would you stop doing that in front of me? You know how blood makes me queasy," Draven scowled in disgust as he watched, but quickly regained composure. "I need to speak with you about something, but not here." His eyes darted quickly to Prince Aeneas not far from them, who was cleaning his own equipment. "It's important."

"Can't it wait?" Yazia looked up, but Draven had already strode out of the dusty ring. Whatever it was that he needed to tell her, it seemed it couldn't wait until after she had scrubbed her body clean of the grime left after battle.

"Seriously," Yazia hurried after her brother, "Whatever it is, you're acting a lot more stranger than usual. Where are we going? What is it?"

She watched Draven take a glance across the royal garden, filled with the flowers of late-spring. He then pulled her arm through the passageway. The garden was wide and open. It was one of the many reasons that Yazia spent most of her time there. A thicket of peaceful beeches dotted to either side of the path, and large apple trees ran through the center of the sanctuary, casting a river of clawed shadows on the waves of green grass.

An array of heady, floral scents drifted through the air to greet her. It reminded Yazia of the time that she had spent practising her blade within this very garden with her father before he died.

"Why do you have to be so impatient?" Draven grumbled, and they walked into the palace through the side-entrance. "It's about our parents."

But we haven't spoken about them since the ambush. Why now?

"Where are we going?" she repeated. An anxiety-inducing feeling began to erupt in her gut as she grew increasingly more concerned by the minute.

"Remember that nook we found when we were little, where nobody could ever find us? It should buy us enough time before it happens again."

Before what happens again?

They quickly picked up their pace through the hallway, until they had reached the room all too familiar to her. A flurry of panic swept over Yazia as she slid through the doors of the dim library. All of the thoughts of the ambush rushed through her.

"Tell me what's going on, Draven. Please." Yazia whispered in frustration as soon as they confirmed that nobody else was in the room of books. Only the stained parchment would be witness to their words.

"This is important, Yazia. You have to promise me you won't do anything you know you shouldn't."Draven let out a deep breath, and glided a hand through his thick-hair. "We finally know the truth. I know who killed our parents."

"H-how do you know? Who is it?" Yazia grit her teeth, and reached for the hilt of her sword.

"A guardsman of Abingor. They were at our gates this morning, planning something. Perhaps another ambush."

"Abingorian guards are here?" she hissed, "what do they want? What are we doing here, we should be defending our gates!"

Sankori can not fall. Not now, not at the hands of the Kingdom of Abingor.

Yazia reached for the door, and had almost swung it open had it not been for the hand of her brother.

"No wait—" Draven didn't finish. Blood curdling screams shot through the air on the other side of the door. She already knew what it was. It was the exact day she feared.

They found me again!

"It's too dangerous! You can't go out there now, there's a tunnel, we can go through there and get you out! Or they'll slaughter you on sight, or worse."

"But we have to do something. Draven! Our people."

"You're the Heir of Sankori, Yazia. The people are nothing without you alive, and they're not worth the cost of who you are! I haven't forgotten the vow I gave to Father to protect you, or do you think that the moment these humans know who you are, they'll have mercy on you?!"

"I don't want mercy from your people!" Yazia hissed. "I can't watch any more of my people die."

Yazia turned back to the door. Draven was right, they'd behead her once they realised that she was the one that they were searching for. They were running out of time to think of solutions—to think of something to end all of this. Soon, the throne of Sankori could be taken from her.

A thirst for vengeance welled up in her throat like a fire as she realised what must be done.

She turned back around, and looked into her brother's eyes for what quite possibly could be the last time. This is what she had practised for, this is what her father had prepared her for. "I'll go. I will kill him."

"You can't be serious!" Draven pleaded.

Yazia had no other options. He had to be stopped, no matter the cost. There was something inside her that wouldn't stop until the whole world was blood. And with each passing second, it festered and grew.

The Kingdom of Abingor would suffer in all of the blood Yazia would shed from this day. But above it all, there was only one thing she truly wanted. She would take revenge on her parent's murder, on the one who started it all.

She would kill the King of Abingor.

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