The Arena

Her battle

As in the morning, Alera was escorted back to her cell at the end of the day. Since she didn't fight, Baruing didn't summon her so she went directly to her cell, where food awaited her.

The other prisoners were already inside, by the time she got there. She got used to everyone stopping talking when she was passing by. When she reached the blood elves’ cage, she only saw Asendriel inside. He was eating quietly, with his hands bandaged.

As the guards locked her inside, she rested her back on the common wall and started eating too. It had no taste as usual, but it was filling. She also received two apples, courtesy of the lord, for his prize champion. The other prisoners here probably forgot the taste of fruits or anything else, for that matter, except the weird porridge-like meal they received daily.

‘Have you seen Tellor?’ came Asendriel’s voice from the other cell.

‘He's probably with the healers now. His wound seemed bad.’ Alera responded, holding an apple. She stared at it for a few seconds before grabbing the other one and sliding them both in the blood elves’ cell. ‘Eat', she said, ‘it won't get any more comforting than this…’

They didn't speak anymore until Tellor was brought back. The moon was rising when the familiar sound of metal bars broke the heavy silence. What was there to say? No matter what, Alera couldn't find a single comforting word for the other two.

‘I’m sorry…’ was all she could mutter.

‘There is no honor in this…’ she recognised Tellor’s voice. It sounded so small and broken. She knew there was no honor and she thought she was over that. She had  killed so many up to this day, she didn't even bother to remember their names or faces. After her first kill, she couldn't sleep for two weeks. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him coming for her, but now she didn't even remember what he looked like. In her memory, only a dark shadowy profile remained in his place.

‘If you keep searching for honor in this place, you will die. Every good and honest feeling you ever knew...forget them.’ her words came out cruel. ‘Do not expect to receive the same kindness you showed today. Most of the fighters here are doing their best to survive.’

She realised she was referring to her. Silence broke out between them again. She looked up at the small window and it seemed darker than usual. Time passed and she couldn't fall asleep.

The cell next to her was quiet. She looked through the bars and saw Asendriel’s arm resting on the floor, outside his cell. He seemed to have fallen asleep, facing her, one or two feet away from the common wall between them.

Her own fingers flinched as she looked at the bandages wrapped around his hand. He wasn't healed enough, probably another punishment.

She laid down, facing the wall, looking at his arm through the metal bars as if mesmerized and, without thinking, reached out and gently touched his fingers. It felt surreal to her. She rested her hand on his palm. At first, she was surprised by the difference in size. Her hand would fit completely if he would close his palm. His hand was rough, but warm and she realised she had forgotten how it felt to interact with another person outside the battlefield.

Her heart was beating faster and faster and she felt like she found an important treasure. She was desperate not to fall asleep, afraid that after she closes her eyes, he will be gone, along with Tellor.

A shiver ran down her arm, as she felt Asendriel slowly grabbing her hand. Feelings were mixing inside her mind and she was so surprised, she couldn't react.

Asendriel didn't give her a chance to pull back and intertwined his fingers with her. No words were spoken and Alera felt her cheeks starting to burn. The silence felt awkward, but the touching sensation felt natural and she didn't want to let go.