---

Chapter 26 - Beggars and Bastards

---

Skye stood in the centre of the arena beside Luke, listening to Tayne’s introductions for the second time in as many days.

Unlike yesterday, the sun was completely out and shining in all its glory. While the crowd and vendors traversing the stands seemed to enjoy the warmer weather, Skye’s armour was uncomfortably hot. Her tunic clung to her skin and sweat gathered under the breastplate. She resisted the urge to tug at the offending clothing and snuck a sideways glance at Luke.

The Silverborn showed no sign of being affected by the heat, but even in half-armour the plate made the heat hard to bear. Skye herself felt like she was already baking inside like one of Jesse’s beloved rolls. In the forests where she’d trained, it’d always been cool. She hated this heat.

Maybe magic could filter the air. Celestials had something like that, but they’re directly linked to the source... She cut the thought short as the familiar warmth blossomed to life on her arm. No magic today, unless it was healing. She didn’t want anyone to assume she was using it to gain an advantage. She had to show them she was worthy.  

With an internal sigh, she adopted Luke’s stalwart stance and resigned herself to the end of Tayne’s speech. The crowd’s eyes were still upon her, and she refused to appear weak after yesterday’s performance.

“These are our chosen masters of the Silverborn. Do you accept our selection, King Darien?” said Tayne with a low bow.

If she has a problem with me again today I’ll just silence her. Or knock her out, mused Skye. It’d be more appropriate, not to mention convenient. Skye hid her smile at the thought. Alice’s wariness of her was not completely unfounded.

After a quick glance at his Queen, Darien rose to a stand. “I do. You may proceed with the trial, Silverborn. Sentinel Skye has been proven worthy.” That said, he gathered his robes around his figure and sat. A nearby servant immediately fanned his face, while another, head bowed, held out a goblet which the King promptly took and swallowed with barely a nod of thanks.

 It’s a miracle he hasn’t passed out with all the ridiculous clothing he’s wearing, although it may serve him right, thought Skye, taking in the ragged edges of the servants clothing. Verdrana’s words echoed in her mind.

Most of Alguarde’s non-demon related problems would be solved if the nobles weren’t so tight of pocket. The system is flawed and makes it harder for the poor to escape.

“Then, with the permission of his majesty, let the trial commence! Masters, return to your stations.”

Excited whispers broke out through the stands. Tayne retreated to the far side of the arena where several Silverborn initiates stood awaiting orders. Skye watched with a curious fascination while Tayne gestured and seemed to organise them with two words. A second later three initiates marched out the exit leading to the hopeful’s pavilion.

Skye cut her observation short when Luke fell into step beside her. They walked as a tight pair across the dusty ground. On the opposite side of the arena, Nissa and Andro mirrored their actions.

“You’ll have five minutes to prepare before it begins. You ready, elfie?” asked Luke once they were far enough from the royals.

Skye inclined her head slightly. “I’ll get you back for that later, tree boy.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him merely grin in response.

They reached the end of the arena quickly. Luke split away from her with a touch to his forehead. Skye continued on to her designated corner, where a small pavilion had been set up and an initiate waiting.

There were no walls to the structure, allowing the crowd free to observe their champion’s every move. She stepped onto the raised wooden platform. The relief from the heat was immediate. Any misgivings she had about being exposed were dispelled and replaced by gratitude.

Hidden from the sun’s glare, Skye massaged her temples. Nerves were gathering in her stomach and she started to wonder if participating in the trial was good idea at all. The raised hairs on the back of her neck told her she was being watched -- and not just by the crowd.

She glanced behind her, trying to pinpoint the predator amid the sheep. It unnerved her how close the traitor could get without her knowledge. Could she really trust anyone? Or was it by earning her trust that an individual became a target for the corruption?

Her assigned initiate, interpreting her fleeting look as acknowledgement of his presence took a step forward to introduce himself.

“I’m Rayume; you know why I’m here. Just tell me if you need anything. Anything at all,” he said.

Skye nodded in reply and gave him a small smile. She gripped the hilt of her sword and took a calming breath.  Rayume retreated at her sudden movement. Worry flitted across his face. She ignored it and fought down the swell of thoughts threatening to paralyse her.

The darkness wouldn’t try anything today, but it was watching. It was always watching. She focused on her breathing for a long minute as Kiarae had taught her to do. Her heart rate slowed and the tremors that plagued her skin ceased.

She sounded so worried. I hope he doesn’t...

The thought drifted away and Skye’s vision blurred. Of course he would. There was no reason to believe otherwise. Any punishment Kiarae received was Skye’s fault. She hadn’t cut the link quick enough, and he knew. He knew Kiarae hadn’t been alone, in mind at least. The maddened eyes stared straight past Kiarae’s and through the bond.

Skye had woken, trembling and ashamed of the relief she couldn’t deny. She’d sat there, curled in the darkness as the malice beat against her will in waves like black silk until finally, blessedly, dawn broke her solitude.

For the first time, she found herself doubting if she’d ever find the courage to face him. She felt utterly alone and lost. A strange feeling crossed her mind. It told her Kiarae wasn’t coming back. He’d caught them. Game over. And without Kiarae, Skye was nothing.

Why? Skye asked no one in particular. She pulled at her tunic and wiped it across her eyes. Why does he do this?

The answer formed in her mind.

He enjoyed it. He enjoyed having a plaything that refused to break, because when it finally gave way the rush of victory was intoxicating, empowering beyond measure. No soul of the light could have that. Slaying a demon, even a tainted didn’t bring that power. You couldn’t break them; only banish them for a short time. But a person... to bend their will to your own. Imagine what that could feel like. The control, the dominion...

Skye jerked back.

She stared at her hands, terrified. Had she thought that?

A light caught her attention, distracting her from the conflicting thoughts. She shifted her head to the right. Her Sentinel mark glowed with a faint golden light, blooming from the centre of the flower. It faded as she watched. The petals closed once more. The only evidence they’d opened was in her mind.  

Was it just her imagination, or had the burn on her shoulder been darker a moment before? Most of it was hidden beneath her tunic, except where the Master had placed the heel of his hand. She touched it with a tentative finger.

  “The heat does that to me too.”

Skye looked up to find Rayume watching her intently. She’d completely forgotten he was there.

“Makes my skin itchy and my eyes water,” he continued with a shrug.

She swallowed before replying. “I’m just not used to it, I suppose.” She attempted a laugh, but it fell flat almost immediately. She removed her fingers from the mark on her shoulder.

What’s wrong with me?

“I suggest you check your armour and weapons. Combat will begin shortly, Sentinel.”

“Just call me Skye.”

Rayume gave her a genuine smile. “Tayne said you’d say that, but I decided to check anyway.”

The next few minutes passed in silence as Skye ran through her mental checklist. Thoughts of Kiarae still roamed her mind as she adjusted her breastplate and ensured her tasset belt was secured firmly around her waist. Luke had raised an eyebrow earlier at her chosen pieces, but she’d waved him off. After watching the hopefuls yesterday, she knew they liked to aim for the upper legs.

Tayne’s voice rang out in the arena once more. Skye picked up her greaves that lay in the corner and gave them a thoughtful tap. She shook her head and replaced them quickly. She wouldn’t need them, she decided.

Not like I’m going to be able to incapacitate them with my knee today, she reasoned with a tug at her bracers. She frowned. Not that I’d want to anyway... They’re not my enemies.

“King Darien, Queen Alice, people of Alguarde! You have watched these hopefuls fight for their right to be here. You watched them struggle against each other and then the Silverborn initiates. Now, you will witness their true prowess as they try their hand against a master of the blade!”

Satisfied with her armour, she laced her fingers and pushed her arms skyward. Skye relished the feeling of energy coursing through her limbs. The dry heat was weirdly invigorating.

Skye caught a glimpse of Luke fiddling with his own armour. His assigned initiate leapt forward to help, only to have Luke wave him off and point sharply at the chair. The initiate’s shoulders slumped and he returned to the indicated seat. Luke appeared to yield a moment later and the initiate bounded back to help. Across the arena, Verdrana’s blonde hair was visible in Nissa’s pavilion. They seemed to be chatting away, both relaxed in each other’s company.

Skye rubbed her hands over her face and scrunched her nose.

“Please welcome your hopefuls into the arena!”

Tayne turned to the side and gestured with his hand. The first group of hopefuls entered and fanned out behind him. As a group, they drew their weapons and thrust them toward the crowd. Tayne spread his arms wide.  

“Are these the faces that will one day stand by my side? People of Alguarde, I present...”

The crowd burst into an uproar before Tayne finished speaking. They drowned out his final words. Cups, paper and clothing were thrown into the air, landing sporadically in the arena dirt. Skye shook her head and drew in a breath.

Give them ale and a promise of violence and look what happens, she thought. They’re like animals.

“Can you blame them?” asked Rayume. Skye looked around in surprise. She hadn’t realised she’d spoken out loud. “You haven’t been around long, but surely you’ve seen how they live.”

“I haven’t, but I don’t understand why they’re so excited for this. Earlier rounds, I could understand, but there are only four of us fighting today. In an arena this large, I’d think boredom would take over eventually yet here they are.”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “This trial is more than entertainment to them. It signifies hope. Hope that the shadow will one day be triumphed over. Especially now that you’re a part of it - Tayne was clever to include you this way. Why do you think he’s making such a big deal of it?”

She was saved from having to reply as the noise died down.

“Masters, please take up your positions!”

Rayume gave her an encouraging nod. “You’ll be fine. Go!”

Skye stepped out into the sunlight. A sense of déjà vu hit her as the crowd’s roars filled her ears and the nerves made her stomach clench.

Heat crept over her cheeks as she recalled yesterday’s events. She could still feel Tayne’s arms around her when he carried her from the arena. Guilt followed the memory. She’d never come back to Jesse after she’d near collapsed, and she hadn’t spoken to him since. She wondered where he was and if he was watching from the stands.

She exhaled sharply and rid herself of the thoughts. She had a trial, for the love of the deities. Jess would understand, and Tayne... well, Tayne was merely doing his job. Protecting the useless Sentinel from herself. She clenched her hand around her hilt and quickened her pace.   

The other Silverborn reached their positions before her. She cursed herself for being slow. Height wasn’t an excuse. She’d always been able to keep up with their longer strides through sheer determination. She blew hair off her face with an annoyed snort. What was wrong with her today?

“Hopefuls, take your positions!”

Skye watched a blonde haired male approach her. Taking one look at his stride, she rolled her eyes and unsheathed her blades.

“Masters, you may initiate combat when ready. Begin!”

*+*+*+*

“Name?” asked Skye.

“Duvan,” said the blue eyed man before her.

 “Take your stance. You make the first move.”

He nodded his acceptance. He switched his grip on his sword and shook his free hand by his side with closed eyes. They opened again a moment later, whereupon he gripped his sword with both hands and spread his feet wide in what he apparently considered the correct stance. Skye resisted the urge to groan.

Even if his mini pre-battle warm up hadn’t tipped her off, his stance told her he wasn’t going to pass. He was completely unbalanced. The sword tip dragged his body down with it. She couldn’t even blame it on the sword, since all weapons had been tested prior to the trial. Even as she gave him the once over, he took a half step forward. One strong sweep from her would send him sprawling.

Skye waited for his first move. It came as a clumsy, two handed blow aimed for her right thigh. She intercepted his blade and twisted it away. Apparently surprised, Duvan stumbled back, hesitated, and launched into a series of attacks that if conducted anyone else may have made her wary.

She allowed him to hit her for a few minutes, feeling out his technique as he desperately tried to slip past her guard. His balance of a two-legged horse made it near impossible for him to follow one attack after the other.

Skye wondered which initiate had fought him in round two before her mind turned to round one. How in the hell had he won that? Stumbled his way to victory? Terrified his opponent with his scary lack of talent?

“Keep your feet apart. You’re sacrificing balance for power, and against a demon that’s going to get you killed,” she said as she blocked yet another overhead blow with her sword. The impact alone was almost enough to bring him down. Dismay coursed through her.

Sweat gathered on his brow before Skye even started her offensive. She’d developed a system. She’d let the hopeful attack first before beginning her own assault. Skye figured that way, the hopeful’s talent, or lack thereof, would become apparent in both areas.

Her combat with Duvan continued another minute until he appeared to be no longer able to hold his blade upright. When that moment came, Skye ended it. His blade hit the ground with a dull thud. He clasped his hands, eyes trying to connect to hers. She avoided his gaze until he spoke.

“Please, please! It’s all I’ve got!”

“You wouldn’t last ten seconds against a tainted. I will not send you to your death. Go,” Skye said. She sheathed her sword and dagger on her back.

Duvan seemed to realise she was serious and crawled forward. With a final plea, he was escorted by a Silverborn initiate out of the arena. A second initiate approached her a moment later.

“Ready for your next hopeful?” he asked.

Skye shook her head. “Five minutes,” she said, moving towards her private pavilion even as she spoke. The masters were allowed a short break every half an hour. Rayume was there to greet her. He held a goblet out to her and she accepted it gratefully.

“I was beginning to wonder if you were ever coming over. The other three have already a break each and are about to go for their second,” said Rayume.

Skye took a sip of water before replying. The chilled water ran down her throat and dulled the growing ache. “They don’t have to prove themselves.”

He nodded. “True. Just don’t overwork yourself. Was that a beggar you had just then, or did he fall over after being subjected to your talent?” he asked, clearly amused.

“You guessed it,” said Skye with a roll of her eyes. The opinionated Silverborn was growing on her. He never hesitated to say what was on his mind, although she was yet to decide whether that was a good thing or not.

She sighed and replaced her empty cup. “I hate denying them. I’m not being too harsh, am I? I mean, Luke’s passed four from what I remember. I’ve only passed one,” she said, observing the other three Silverborn from her seat.

“No. I’ve been watching closely. You’re only on your sixth hopeful, Luke’s on his eleventh, and his have generally had more skill.”

“So I should speed it up,” said Skye. She curled her lip at once again being last.

Rayume laughed. It was an easy sound that dispelled her growing annoyance. “No. I like your speed, and your methods. You give them more of a chance to show their strengths and endurance. It’s much more entertaining to watch, I assure you. The crowd loves it, especially the dual blades. I’m waiting for someone who might actually challenge you. That would be quite an impressive display.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Skye swallowed another mouthful of water and observed Nissa’s current hopeful. The man was light on his feet, matching Nissa’s speed and agility with her daggers. It was impressive to watch. The blades caught the light as they swung in their graceful arcs.

His defensive technique is off, Skye thought idly. Nissa could have taken him down easily in an actual duel by now.

A few minutes later, and Skye was back on her feet. She drew her dagger and twirled the hilt around her hand, wondering if there’d be any real need for it today. The craftsmanship was superb. Another thing to do. She added thanking Karrosh to her ever growing list.  

The initiate that’d spoken to her earlier came over.

 “Ready?” he asked. Skye nodded in reply. The Silverborn initiate waved his hand and returned to his station.

The first thing that struck Skye about the next hopeful was their gait. They approached Skye’s quarter of the arena with sure and catlike steps. They were balanced and co-ordinated, two things some of these hopefuls couldn’t seem to grasp. The second thing; they were female.

Skye found herself face to face with the brunette she and Verdrana had taken an interest to in the previous day. Close up, she was no less intriguing. A scar adorned the left side of her face, a silvery line that ran from cheekbone to brow.

Where the other hopefuls had shifted their gaze to the ground or stared at her with wonder written on their faces, this girl’s glare was unwavering. She met Skye’s eyes with a ferocity that the other hopefuls were yet to match.

That wasn’t the only thing though. There was something odd about the girl. Something Skye couldn’t put her finger on. She was meeting all kinds of interesting people today. Who would have guessed?

“Name?” asked Skye.

“Alicia,” said the girl.

“Draw your weapons, take your stance. Make the first move when you’re ready.”

Alicia wasted no time. She drew her sword and left the short dagger in its sheath. Feet spread to shoulder width, she gripped the sword with both hands. Skye lifted her own sword in reply. Alicia set her mouth in a hard line. The girl gave the impression that she had something to prove. Something that involved Skye.

Combat began with Alicia’s blade slicing the air with an overhand arc.

Skye deflected the blow easily to the side. The power behind the attack surprised her -- the girl was stronger than she’d expect. Alicia delivered another lightning fast overhead blow. Skye parried. She let her opponent orchestrate the duel. Instinct took over as she blocked, dodged and deflected, manoeuvring the blade to allow Alicia to demonstrate her capabilities.

Skye caught Alicia’s blade on her dagger and flicked it to the side. She leapt back gracefully as the girl brought it around once more, not deterred in the least. Skye gave ground, retreating several steps backwards at the next flurry of attacks. Alicia took a step back and broke combat.

“Are you going to attack me or what?” asked Alicia. She narrowed her eyes, the same determination burning in them to beat her opponent who she was yet to lay a finger on.

Skye responded by taking a step forward. She redirected the momentum to her blade and gave a half hearted swing at Alicia’s side. She doubted the girl would falter, but she’d rather not inflict serious damage if she could avoid it.

Alicia intercepted Skye’s blade. Her eyes flashed as she said, “I’m insulted.”

Skye drew her sword back. With a flick of her wrist she brought it around in a half circle above their heads in an attempt to hit Alicia’s shoulder. The girl nodded as their blades impacted, the challenge in her eyes unmistakable. After that, Skye held little back.

Skye sidestepped a side cut and whirled around, aiming for Alicia’s back. The girl pivoted on her foot and brought her blade up hilt first. She grunted as she straightened her elbows and pushed back.

“Good,” said Skye.

Alicia didn’t reply. Her brows drew together and she reached for the dagger in her belt. A few clumsy attempts later that would have got her killed in battle, Alicia threw it in the dirt and returned to her double handed grip on the blade. Skye nodded in approval. Alicia’s co-ordination had dropped significantly wielding the dagger.

Skye sheathed her own dagger and combat continued. When Skye used one blade, Alicia held her own. Twice Skye touched her -- once on the hip and the other on the arm -- to show her that she’d become cocky and let her defense slip. Both silent demonstrations were met with a low, frustrated growl.

She sensed Alicia had never had a real challenge before. The technical points were correct. Her strikes were accurate and fast, but when Skye made use of her dagger the girl struggled to keep up with the flurry of attacks. She didn’t pre-empt the attacks, relying on speed to save her and missing vital opportunities to counter.

She’s only ever sparred against a few people in one style, Skye realised. She probably beat them too, and is only now finding out she’s not as good as she thought she was.

The dirt kicked up around them in clouds of dust, but Skye was aware of little else other than the figure across from her. They exchanged blows for another few seconds. Alicia didn’t seem to be tiring. She had stamina.

Having long since made her judgement, Skye waited for Alicia’s overhand blow. As the blade levelled with Skye’s, Skye lowered her sword and raised her left arm; the one that held the dagger.

Without the expected resistance, Alicia plunged forward further than she’d intended. Skye acted quickly. She caught the falling sword on the edge of her dagger and pushed. The larger weapon slid down the shorter length with a hiss. Before Alicia could slip it free, Skye thrust the dagger toward the ground and released her grip on the hilt.

Alicia stumbled forward onto one knee, refusing to let go of her weapon. Skye wrapped her free arm around Alicia’s shoulder blades and dug her elbow into the hopeful’s back in one movement. Alicia cried out in surprise. The extra weight pushed her knees into the dirt hard.

Skye reversed her grip on the sword and held its flat against Alicia’s chest.

“You did well,” said Skye. She waited a moment to ensure Alicia understood the duel was over then stood, sheathing her blades. She brushed the dirt from her leggings.  

“Well? I lost!” Alicia rolled onto her behind, retrieving her sword from the dust. “How in the hell did you do that? It’s cheating,” she grumbled.

“There’s no such thing as cheating in combat. You use what you have, environment and all. Speaking of which, why do you carry a dagger when you’ve got no idea how to use it?” asked Skye. She extended a hand towards Alicia. The girl glared at it a moment before accepting.

“Because,” she said with a huff. “It gave me a higher chance of being paired with you.”

Taken aback, Skye took a moment to reply. “Why did you want me so badly?”

Alicia shrugged it off. “Just did. I, uh, felt like if I could challenge you I could challenge anyone. I mean, nature Sentinel and all, right?” she said with a small smile. “I have a lot to learn, huh?”

Skye snorted in amusement. “True, but who doesn’t?”

A  Silverborn initiate appeared beside Skye, clipboard in hand. “What is your judgement?” he asked.

Realisation dawned and Alicia looked panicked, like if the world would end if she failed.

“She’ll do,” said Skye.  

Relief, followed by something undeterminable flashed through Alicia’s eyes. The initiate nodded briefly, making a note of Skye’s judgement.

“Alicia... what city?” asked the initiate.

“Celestin?” Alicia’s reply made Skye frowned. Why was a simple statement posed as a question? She delved into the magic and searched Alicia’s aura. A bright, leafy green streaked with red greeted her. Finding no black, Skye cut the vision before the headache began. Whatever secret the girl held wasn’t malevolent.  

She’s probably a run away, thought Skye. She looks as if she’s been hard pressed in the last few years.

The initiate narrowed his eyes. “Celestin, eh?” Skye wasn’t the only one with suspicions. “I don’t suppose you can tell me where in--“

“All right, all right. You’ve had your fun, girl. Now get out of the way and let me show you how a real warrior does it.”

Unable to believe her pointed ears, Skye turned. A man, nearly two heads taller than her strutted to her side. He grabbed Alicia by the shoulder and shoved her none too gently away from Skye. He took her previous position, folded his arms over his chest and gave Skye the biggest smirk she’d ever had the displeasure to see.

“And you would be?” Skye asked politely.

Alicia bristled behind him. She drew back a fist then thought better of it. She stalked off to the arena exit instead, fists clenched and muttering to herself. Skye raised an eyebrow. She was sure the girl acted on impulse and was almost sorry she’d restrained herself.

“I’d be Drake, missy. And I’d be challenging you to the duel, or whatever you want to call it.”

The Silverborn initiate stepped in front of him. “You’ll have to wait your turn. Now, be gone or I’ll have you--“

“No, it’s okay,” interrupted Skye. “He’s clearly been very patient. Isn’t that right Drake?”

“Glad to see you know who the dominant is here, honey,” said Drake. He tried to place a massive hand on her shoulder only to have her step away in disgust.

“Er, you sure?” Unlike the idiotic excuse for a human, the Silverborn hadn’t missed the venom in her words.

“Course she is. Probably just eager to test my sword, if ya know what I mean.” Drake winked. “Slim elfie like that?” You ain’t going to find me saying no. Even if she is going to be begging for mercy two minutes from now.”

The Silverborn snorted and walked away.

“And what makes you so certain you’ll beat me?” Skye asked sweetly. She ran her thumb along the edge of her dagger, meeting his eyes at the end of her sentence.

“Sorry honey, you’re cute but you ain’t got much to you. See, this is all about strength, and strength I got,” he said, cocking his head.

Lucky for you, because you haven’t got much else going on up there, Skye thought. She fingered the tip of her dagger as he continued with his monologue.

“You just passed a girl, so I’m figuring that it can’t be that difficult. I’m just sorry I didn’t get Luke or Andro -- now those, those are real men. They would have been a pleasure to fight. You see how quick they’re gettin’ through the hopefuls? Sorry elfie, but I’ll go easy on you if you promise you won’t go easy on me later.”

He kissed his lips together and eyed her up and down. “Ladies shouldn’t wear pants. Although on you, I ain’t gonna complain. It shows off all the things I love on my women.”

Skye finished cleaning the dust from her dagger before replying, keeping her anger in check. “I daresay you’ll be sorry you didn’t get Luke or Andro after I’m through with you. I’ll act the gentleman since you’re certainly incapable of doing so, and let the lady strike first.” She drew her sword from its scabbard with a smile.

Rage clouded his face. “I’ll make you regret saying that.” Skye pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ears.

“I doubt that.”

Drake raised his sword and swung. The blade hissed through the air, slicing the air which Skye had occupied a mere moment before. Surprise flitted across his face. It dawned on him that she’d moved.

“You missed, Drakey.”

He zeroed in on her and growled, finally brought to action. Skye danced out of reach. She didn’t touch her blade to his, content to let him embarrass himself as he stumbled along behind her and tried to catch up. She stepped lightly to her left as the blade passed by her once more. She laughed and he lunged for her. She leapt backward. He was too predictable.

“Again? What, can’t seem to hit me?” She ducked.

“This is not fair combat!” He stepped forward and aimed a side cut at her legs.

“Well of course not! I mean, what’s little me supposed to do against you? You implied it yourself that I was useless. You’re clearly too strong.” She skipped to the side.  

The blade isn’t even that well kept, she noted as it sliced the air to her right. It’s been nicked and he hasn’t bothered to fix it.

Drake slashed horizontally and followed with a thrust. Skye avoided it once more. She moved further away, making him chase her in a small circle. His face shifted from one shade of red to the next each time she dodged.

“You see Drake, strength is fine. But what happens when your opponent is quicker than you?”

His only response was to growl.

“Use your words, Drake,” she chided.

“I’ll get you. I won’t go easy.”

She evaded his glinting blade. “To do that, you’d have to catch me. Neither strength nor your pretentious prowess will slow someone down. And if you annoy them enough, they might be tempted to do this.”

In one swift movement, Skye swatted his falling blade aside with her dagger. He staggered forward and she touched the tip of her sword to his lower back.

“Dead,” she said calmly. 

Drake spun around and bared his teeth. His knuckles were white on the hilt, beady eyes assessing the situation. Skye twirled the dagger in her palm and met his gaze.

She wasn’t done with him yet. She wasn’t done teaching him that acting as a self-entitled bastard didn’t sanction his actions. She goaded him further, daring him with her eyes.

“Are you going to attack? I’ll make it easier for you to hit me this time.”

With a skeptical snort, Drake stepped forward and launched an undercut at Skye. She held her ground and deflected his attack harmlessly to the side. Drake brought his sword around in a massive arc, intent on crashing through Skye’s defense. Once more, when their blades collided it was only for the briefest of moments before her dagger redirected the strike.

“Saw that coming a mile away. Can you do anything that doesn’t involve relying on brute strength? Anything would be more interesting than this.”

His face was a deep red now, fury written into lines on his face. There was no pattern to his attacks. No skill. Just a vulgar excuse for a man that employed the tactics of a battering ram. A street fighter -- a bully.

Another thing to add to the list, she thought, knocking Drake’s blade away with the dagger yet again.

Skye didn’t deny herself the adrenaline coursing through her veins. Each time Drake launched an attack, she deflected it easily, refusing to give ground. When he tried to step into her arc, the daggers shorter length gave her the advantage against his sword and he was forced out once again.

He reminded her too much of a pompous elf at home, assuming her weak and easily subdued. Fire flashed in her heart. It was because of one of these men that she’d been caught in the first place. Because of him, because of the elf that Drake was unknowingly imitating, that she’d been tortured at all. Bitter memories flooded her mind and drove her on.

Drake gripped his sword with both hands and lifted his sword above his head.

This was it. What she was waiting for.  Anticipation coursed through her. She needed to beat him so badly it hurt. The powerful descending arc came down fast and hard. Sound died, or perhaps the crowd was just holding their breath.

Skye raised her blades.  

The impact jarred her entire body. She bent her knees, absorbing the blow but never dropping her gaze. Drake, towering over her, froze. His eyes travelled from her face to the blades, trying to figure out why the attack supposed to cleave her from hair to hip had suddenly stopped.

“I’ve been trying to teach each hopeful something today. And this is what I’ll teach you,” she said in a quiet voice. His eyes met hers once more. For the first time, the arrogance was gone, replaced with fear.

“Don’t annoy people that are stronger than you.”

She removed the dagger from behind her sword and pointed it to his throat. He jerked backward, disengaging the blades. She pursued him as he took one, two steps in retreat. Seeing there was no escape, he raised his blade in defense as hers came crashing down.

Overhand, side cut, thrust and twist. Her sword flashed in a blur of motion and Drake couldn’t keep up. In a fluid motion, she ripped the sword from his grip and brought her dragger around in a fluid motion, slashing it across his chest. The thin layer of cloth split easily.

A dull thud registered in her thoughts as his blade hit the ground.

Drake looked down in disbelief at the thin crimson line forming across his chest. “You... you just...” he trailed off.

Idiot.

In a flair of emotion, she brought her knee to his groin. He cried out in pain and sank into the dirt like the worm he was.

No one made a noise. It appeared the crowd had lost their thirst for violence. Skye leered over the crippled Drake. She was angry. Angry

“Don’t you ever, ever disrespect me again. Understand?” She turned, intending to return to her pavilion. She needed to cool her temper before the next hopeful.

“But, you... I mean you haven’t finished yet! Come back!”

Skye kept walking.

*+*+*+*

The sun hung low in the sky, the day’s heat nearly gone in favour of a cooling breeze.

Skye’s sheathed blades lay on the table next to her. She tapped her fingers on the pommel of her sword, other hand grasping a cup. Rayume sat beside her.

 “You think this guy will get through?” he asked as the hopeful in question took up the chalice in the centre of the arena.

“Maybe. There’s only a few left for the soul trial now, right?”

Rayume nodded. “Yes. Out of the forty that passed through round three, sixteen have been accepted by the chalice and there’s seven left to undergo the trial.”

“You like your numbers don’t you?”

He laughed at that. “I’m good at dealing with facts. That’s all. I have a good memory.” He took a piece of fruit from the table and bit into it. “You know, I’m not sure how you were so easy with the soul trial. I was near tears when I held that cup. I don’t know how you did it.”

“What, turn it gold?” asked Skye, confused.

Rayume sniffed the fruit before placing it back on the table. “Ugh. Not ripe. And no, I meant the trial, although the aesthetic change is also up for question.”

The hopeful in the centre of the arena drank from the chalice. A few moments in, his knees buckled and he fell to the ground. Skye frowned. She’d seen a few of them do similar things. From what she recalled, none of them had passed either. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s only a cup, Ray. It’s not that scary.”

“Did Wrain not tell you?” When she shook her head, he continued. “The soul trial can kill you.”

Skye choked on her water. “What? Why did no one tell me that before I started?”

Rayume shrugged. “We all had faith in you. The enchantments on the chalice, from what I understand affect the soul in some way during the trial. Basically, if you’re corrupted beyond a certain point or just not strong enough, it’ll kill you because it alters your soul to an extent. If the difference is too great, the body will just give out.”

“And that’s why they’re all collapsing?” she asked, nervously watching the hopeful on trial rise to his feet, still holding the cup.

“Sort of. He’ll be fine though. That happens all the time. It’s when they drop the chalice that they’re in trouble,” said Rayume.

“I’m glad Alicia passed then.”

“Indeed.” He was silent for a moment. “You know, I thought you were going to kill that man at one point,” he said quietly. She glanced over at him and he shrugged. “What did he say to make you lose it? I’ve seen you deal with Donovan. He’s never managed to provoke you like that before.”

“He... he reminded me of someone I know. Someone that’s caused me a lot of pain over the last few years.”

Rayume inclined his head, apparently sensing the finishing note in her voice.

The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the trial ended. The Silverborn had nineteen new recruits to help push back the darkness. Skye found the thought somewhat calming as she exited the arena, blades sheathed on her back. Rayume walked beside her and the two engaged in easy as they entered the Silverborn compound. They turned down a narrow corridor that led to the sleeping quarters, Rayume insisting that he’d walk her there.

“It’s not the best bit, either. Tayne had no idea, but Luke had taken the papers prior to the court’s meeting and adjusted the... oh...”

Skye looked up, wondering why Rayume had suddenly trailed off.

There, standing in the lamplight, was Donovan.

The breeze suddenly seemed colder. Skye resisted the urge to draw her blades. There was something unnerving about the way the Advisor was staring into the darkness. Dressed in pressed black clothing, his outline appeared to meld with the shadows. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the haunting feeling. The Advisor’s head snapped around.

“Ah. Sentinel Skye, I’ve been wondering when you’d show up.”

He pushed away from the wall and made steps towards her. She felt Rayume stiffen beside her. Inside her clenched hand, unseen sparks of green light hovered, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. Donovan kept his eyes on his papers and stopped half a pace away from her. Closer than he needed to be. Skye forced herself to breathe.

“Her majesty the Queen asked me to see that these made their way into your hands. You’ll find they are necessary, as the King demands your presence in the near future and wishes to schedule a meeting.”

The small man thrust a pile of papers into her hands. She clamped her fingers around them automatically, not taking her eyes from his face. He glanced up for the first time, the dark pair of eyes searching her own.

Donovan snatched his gloved hands away. “Please return them at the earliest convenience, or have Tayne tell one of his underlings to deliver it if it’s beneath you. That is all. I would wish you a good night, but it would be insincere. My apologies.”

He walked past them and left their sight.

---

A/N - Please comment / vote if you're enjoying it => 

Picture of Skye on the side. --->