Daughter of Light and Darkness

Chapter ONE

Part One

City of demons and angels

   Ayala hates to train with knives. 

   She drops the knife in her hand. And it hits the floor with a noise that reverberates in the high walls of the gym.  The boy's blade cuts the skin of her neck slightly. 

   "Again," Ayala says, pushing his hand to her side. 

   She doesn't care about the sting created by the cut knowing that it will heal. In a few days, only a white mark will remain.  The blood flows like a miniature river on the girl's skin, covering an older trace and reaching the already stained T-shirt. 

   It will heal, she thinks, remembering the many times she came home with bruises.  It's not the first time when this happened.  Maybe then she would have worried for at least a second. 

   Ayala leans down to lift her knife off the floor, her gaze fixed on her friend and mentor alike.

   Sebastian follows her back, analyzing her fluid body movements. 

   The girl always hated knives because she can't handle them properly.  Every time she tries to use them, she feels like she has two left hands, hands that know how to confuse her very well. 

   "You're dead," Sebastian says, picking up a corner of his T-shirt to wipe the blood off his blade. 

   The material reveals a well-worked body, with a white skin, but moist and shiny from the sweat.  Ayala looked up again at Sebastian's green eyes, which continued to follow her. 

   "Again," she repeats, but this time with a little more authority in her voice. 

   For a few seconds the two friends look at each other intently.  The girl, stained with blood, but with a stubbornness that would annoy many.  And the boy, sweaty and tired, waiting to most likely get home, take a bath, eat something and get into bed. 

   Sebastian's shirt, which was once white and clean, is now stained with the blood of several cuts he also made today.  And it's wet, wet from the sweat that makes his facial skin and arms glow. 

   The girl sometimes wonders if he also looks at her as he is seen.  With desire.  If he also thought about how she would look naked, how instead of fighting she would do something else on the floor of the training room. How she would sweat because they feel good, without blood, without weapons.

   She shook her head.  

   She can't think of such nonsense.  Not when a war could come and she is not yet ready to fight with knives. 

   "Again." 

   She speaks loud and clear, as if he doesn't understand her. The boy snorts, still looking at her and continuing to polish his blade.

   It's not fair, Ayala thinks. Her fighting with a knife, and he with a whole sword. It's like putting a man and a demon to fight hand-to-hand, it's clear who would win.  But then another thought crosses the boundaries of her mind, life is not right.  And if she were to fight in real life, her opponent probably wouldn't think about the rules.