9.1
━━━━━▲━━━━━Chills slid down Yazia's spine as a soft breeze tousled her hair into buoyant curls. Her eyes never left the dry desert, where troops of competitors of the tournament were parading around with their blades. She hadn't realised, but her body grew tense with unease over the King's warning. Or should she say, threat?
She had known before that coming into Abingorian territory would be a difficult task, so why did it surprise her now that there would be greater complications? That it would be unfit for any lone individual to venture into the kingdom of their enemies with an estranged task; to not only usurp a devious king, but to also get away with it.
This was not going to be quick.
Just above the sound of her beating heart, and warm water drooling from the fountain, Yazia could no longer make out the footsteps of the King. She didn't need her eyes to believe he was now out of sight from where she stood. Out of sight, and he'd be out of mind too.
Sand scattered inside the pit below her as the sound of a body crashed. She gazed downwards to see one of the mortals on the ground—the other, with a sword to his opponent's throat. Yazia couldn't help but find herself wandering down the steps onto the wasteland to where they were practising.
When she approached, her eyes travelled from the sword that was grasped tightly onto the man's hand, the blade pressed against the throat of a familiar face. Sweat glistened from the brown of his skin as the opponent helped to haul him back up from the ground. Then moments later, his eyes met hers.
Aeneas then rubbed the back of his hand against his forehead, wiping at the dirt he had collected and came closer to Yazia. "Well, am I glad to see you're still alive then," he said, "what pays you a visit?"
"So this is that confidential matter that you decided to sign up for? You didn't tell me you'd be a contender for the tournament."
"Come, Malya, we barely knew anything about one another back then," he said, "besides, there was never a conversation that we had where I could bring it up."
Says the one that always disappeared at the most disapproving of times...
"Okay well, it's highly unlikely that you are going to win any battle lying on the ground," she said and gazed at the weapon mount. "Let me help you."
Yazia didn't wait for a response as she came to unsheath a blade from the mount. There were numerous weapons of all sorts at the stack, but none of them could compare to what she had back at the Sankorian refuge before the attack. But then again, she was lucky to feel the weight of a new hilt once more, let alone to be able to keep up with her sword skills. She had been careful too long. Yazia temporarily admired the sword she had chosen in her hand; it reminded her of the first blade her Father had gifted to her.
"I needn't your help. I already know how it is you fight, remember." Aeneas came next to her. "And besides, perhaps differentiating between swords is not your strong suite. We will not be using this." He took the blade from her hand, and replaced it with a new one. "Ever used a scimitar, Your Highness?"
Yazia snatched the sword from him, and narrowed her eyes. "You'd do well not to test me, Prince of Silvern," she hissed quietly, "there are lots of things I can do that ought to take you by surprise."
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Heart of Thieves (Fallen Empires #1)
FantasyI'M NOT THE MONSTER YOU SHOULD FEAR. A world of bloodshed is all Yazia has known despite never having struck a blade to one's heart-that is until everything changes when an attack lures her into a spiral of revenge for her parent's death. With noth...