I let him come close to me… who knows if this is the end...
Or not.
But still, I couldn't let myself end this way.
Not like this. Not on my knees. Not bleeding out in front of an audience that had already decided I was nothing, a cursed, wolfless shadow who had overstayed her welcome in their world.
I stepped into the blow instead of away from it.
Steel tore across my upper arm in a white-hot line of agony that nearly blacked me out. The pain bloomed violently, stealing my breath in a strangled gasp that scraped raw against my throat. Warm blood spilled freely down my arm, soaking the already ruined sleeve and dripping onto the dirt in heavy, rhythmic drops that stained the ground dark.
But I twisted with the strike.
My remaining blade slammed into his wrist with desperate force, knocking his weapon just enough off course to save my throat from being opened.
Then before my courage could disappear, before the pain could swallow me whole...
I drove my blade upward.
It stopped at his throat.
He froze.
So did I.
His pulse hammered wildly beneath the cold steel pressed against his skin, fast, frantic, terrified. My knees threatened to give out completely, my vision swimming with black spots as pain and exhaustion clawed at me from every direction. Blood slid down my arm in thick rivulets, dripping into the dirt between us like a silent countdown to whatever came next.
Neither of us spoke.
The entire field held its breath.
"I concede," he finally whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding in my ears.
The words felt unreal.
I staggered back, barely managing to stay upright, my legs shaking so badly I wasn't sure they remembered how to stand. The silence that followed wasn't respect.
It was confusion.
Because I hadn't won.
I hadn't overpowered him.
I hadn't outmatched him with skill or strength.
I had simply refused to die.
And apparently, in this twisted place, that was enough, for now.
The human was dragged away by the Sentinels.
I barely registered it at first.
My arm burned, no, screamed, with every heartbeat. My ribs felt like shattered glass every time I tried to draw breath. Blood soaked my sleeve, thick and warm, sticking the fabric to my skin as if it wanted to claim me completely. The remaining twin blade in my hand was slick now, my grip unreliable, my fingers growing numb and clumsy.
I could barely feel my hand anymore.
Then the ground shifted.
Not literally.
Something worse.
The noise died.
Not slowly. Not awkwardly.
It vanished, like the entire field itself had been silenced by an invisible hand.
I forced my head up just in time to see them move.
Tall figures stepped onto the field without a word. Their presence swallowed the space around them, bending attention, swallowing sound. Their faces were covered, masked in dark metal and cloth, only their eyes visible.
Cold. Watchful. Empty of mercy.
They didn't rush.
They didn't hesitate.
They simply took the human.
Hands closed around his arms like judgment made flesh, and they dragged him away as if he weighed nothing at all.
He didn't scream.
Didn't fight.
Didn't even beg.
He just went pale... so pale it was terrifying. His eyes hollowed out, filled with the kind of fear you only get when you understand, too late, that resistance is pointless.
I swallowed hard.
I'd heard stories.
Every child must have.
Warnings whispered at night. Tales told in hushed voices to scare us into obedience.
If you're unfortunate enough to be sent to Altheris Academy… follow the rules.
Or they will come.
I didn't know if they were truly called anything officially.
But I remembered the word the elders used when they thought children were asleep.
Sentinels.
They didn't look at me.
That scared me more than if they had.
When they vanished again, human gone, blood erased from the ground like it had never existed... the field exhaled.
I didn't.
Because I still had three opponents left.
I didn't have time to think.
The second opponent stepped forward.
A witch.
I knew immediately, not from her clothes or markings, but from the way the air shifted around her. It grew heavier. Charged. Like the space itself was holding its breath, waiting for something terrible to happen.
Her eyes flicked briefly to my bleeding arm.
Then away.
Calculating.
She smiled.
Not kind.
Not cruel.
Interested.
Like my life was a puzzle she wanted to take apart, piece by bloody piece.
Great, I thought numbly. A curious one.
She didn't rush me either.
She lifted her hand.
The ground beneath my feet cracked.
I jumped back just in time as dark lines split the earth where I'd been standing, heat rushing up through my soles like the ground itself wanted to swallow me whole. I barely landed before another spell tore through the air, sharp, invisible, screaming past my ear.
Pain flared across my thigh.
"Aah!" I cried out, stumbling.
The crowd reacted instantly... louder this time, voices rising in a hungry wave.
"She won't last."
"She's already bleeding."
"Why is she still standing?"
Good question.
Even I didn't know the answer.
But one thing was clear.
I was not dying without a fight.
I raised my blade defensively. My heart pounded so hard it hurt. My body screamed at me to stop, to lie down, to surrender, to let it end.
The witch began chanting under her breath, fingers glowing faintly as glowing symbols formed in the air around her, twisting like living smoke.
"Too slow, Nyx."
The voice came from nowhere. Everywhere.
Maybe I was hallucinating.
Who wouldn't be?
I could see death.
And death could see me.
So I rushed her.
Stupidly.
Desperately.
Necessarily.
A blast of force slammed into my chest mid-step, throwing me sideways. I hit the ground hard, rolling as white exploded behind my eyes. Blood filled my mouth, new or old, I couldn't tell anymore.
I forced myself up on one knee, spitting dirt and copper.
Another spell was already forming.
I threw my blade.
Not at her.
At the spell.
The metal sliced through the glowing sigil just as it finished forming.
The magic exploded.
Not outward.
Inward.
The backlash tore through the air violently... a shockwave that knocked everything back.
Someone screamed.
A sharp, choking sound.
I turned my head just in time to see one of my other opponents... too close, or ...too careless... get caught in the wild magic. The force slammed into his chest, lifted him off the ground, and hurled him backward like a broken doll.
He didn't move.
The field went dead silent.
The witch froze.
Her eyes widened, not in fear.
In horror.
"No…" she whispered.
She hadn't meant to hit him.
That didn't matter.
One of my opponents lay motionless on the ground, blood spreading beneath him in a dark, accusing pool.
Two left.
My heart slammed violently against my ribs as reality crashed down on me.
I hadn't killed him.
But I had caused it.
The witch turned to me slowly, shock melting into pure, burning rage.
"You..." she began.
She rushed toward me at full speed, ready to end me once and for all.
And I knew... with terrifying clarity...
I was doomed.