Darkness in Valhalla

Chapter 6: Alarm

Days pass without trouble as I settle into this life, but I'm still not at ease. Like any other addict, my body craves my Power, it begs me to unleash it, but I can't. The hunger intensifies with every passing, and slowly my control diminishes, and I realize that I'm out of time. I needed to find a place before I committed the unthinkable.

On my way to combat training, I readjust the straps of my boot. The fitted jeans dig into my hips, my unhealed scars more precisely, and I slightly wince; I should have kept the bandages on. Entering the room, I see everyone candidly go on, and it's like I'm invisible, and relief floods through me. Rows of weapons line the walls, from sharpened swords to axes to things I've only seen in books; the glinting steel looks unearthly. Besides the weaponry, the room is devoid of any items, the ceiling and floors bare, with no furniture or anything. All it had were simple lockers at the end, where I ended up going to put my satchel.

"Gather." Grim roars.

In mere seconds, everyone has lined up. Grim, our middle-aged combat instructor, paces in front of us, her deep crimson hair bouncing and boots thumping.

"Today we're doing duels, tournament style. I've prepared the list," she holds out a paper with names scribbled on it, "First match: Astraea and Reyna."

Clearly, I managed to jinx myself by thinking that today would be peaceful.

Bad ideas were slowly growing on me. Father would disapprove, but then again, his demise meant I had to deal with his anger and disappointment only if I wanted to. Souls were easy enough to ignore.

Reyna's eyes stare back with maniacal malice and anger. From what I've gathered, she's one of the more brilliant and brightest students here, hard-working, fiery, and murderous, traits that won her last year's Valhalla Siege: a series of battles between the best of the best, a declaration that you were unmatched.

We stand opposite to one another in position to begin combat. Her stance solid, but I can observe the ripples of unease in her movements. Something is on her mind. I grin, and she frowns at that.

I move first, lunging towards her, fist moving towards her face. She dodges quickly enough while moving swiftly enough to kick me off my feet. I jump back and wait for her to attack. Her fist finds my gut, and the air is sucked out of my lungs, and it dawns on me; maybe she was misleading me earlier. Calculating and cruel. A laugh echoes throughout the room,

"I heard great things about you, but it seems I expected too much from a Powerless runt."

Ignoring the bruise forming on my stomach, I attack again; this time, I'm more forceful, faster, and ruthless. I hit my mark while all she did was block my attempts. She's humoring me. I can see that through her red-tainted grin. When I step back, trying to assess the negligent damage I had done, she positions to attack. Somehow I dodge her and kick her exposed mid-section, kicking all that air out of her lungs. Faltering and surprised, I take the opportunity to slam my elbow in her nose and hear a crack and find my elbow covered in bright red specks of blood.

I draw first blood. I win.

Stepping back, I declare the match to be over. Reyna doesn't like that, unaccepting that she lost from an apparent nobody. She growls in a moment of rashness, and even though my back is turned to her, I can feel what's coming next. These people really need some control.

I feel the heat creep up my neck. Quickly, my body falls to the floor as low as possible, missing the inferno sent my way. Anger builds up in my bones. Along with it is a power that I only feel when raising the dead. The moment the fire fades, I run toward her and punch her with all that anger. It's not until later I process what happened. That superhuman energy sent her back, and she hit the wall behind us. You could feel the tinniest of shakes as her body collided with the wall, resulting in a few barely variable cracks. But I didn't hear any of that. All I could hear was my blood boiling as I walked up to her and grabbed her hair. Her bruised eyes stared at me for a second before she fell unconscious.

I don't know what I would've done after that. I heard screams, hushed voices, and a stern bark to exit the ring. Sneering, I let go, letting her fall to the ground, and before I move, Grim calls me,

"It seems you're full of surprises, Astraea," she narrows her eyes, "meet me after class."

Nodding, I join the others on the floor while a medic carries Reyna to the infirmary. I'm sure my reputation was spinning around the fact that I put two people in a healer's chambers within the span of a week. I knew then that I fucked up badly, and the consequences wouldn't be a warning this time. But that wasn't what frightened me the most; it was the surge of Power when I smashed her against the wall. Necromancy never gave me super strength, and I'm sure I didn't call my powers, but some mysterious forces were at play because I was convinced that what just happened was a display of unexpected Power.

The duels progress without any other revelations while I console myself. The only match I focused on was one with Alayna, a strength elemental. She was allowed to use her Powers to a degree since she couldn't compete without them. Her attacks leave her opponent bruised all over, and I tell myself to watch her impact. In the last few seconds, she musters more than she's allowed and sends the guy flying to the wall behind him with much more force than I had with Reyna. He collides, and there's a tremor throughout the room, and when he falls to the ground, prominent cracks and hallowed spaces decorate the grey wall. Internally, I let go of that breath I was holding. There was no way I had super strength; I had just witnessed the core of a Strength elemental, and my surprising altercation earlier was nothing more than an anger-fueled miracle.

"Miss Adams, I told you no using your powers beyond fifteen percent," Grim barks, "You're disqualified and on cleaning duty for a week."

Alayna doesn't even look sorry. She accepts the punishment, looks boastfully at the guy lying on the floor, and sits next to me.

"You know, somehow, the satisfaction of beating an ex to a pulp makes up for any kind of cleaning duty." Leaning, she whispers to me, and a smile appears on my face,

"I wouldn't know about the ex thing, but it sure feels good to dethrone a queen."

Alayna grins widely and studies me. While she does, I take in her as well. Her blonde hair cascades to her waist, her ocean eyes twinkle, and her armor highlights her curves and height. She emits this aura of greatness, and I can tell that she's the secure kind. One powerful enough to take on most but humble enough to decline, she had nothing to prove.

"You're an interesting girl Az," she finally says, "I think I'm going to like you."

I shrug but can't hide my reluctant smile and the thought in my head that says the feeling is mutual.

"Don't go all emotional on me, okay? I have too many people in love with me already."

I raise my eyebrow at her, "You're not exactly my type" I pretend to examine her.

"Okay, whatever," she changes the topic, amused by my answer, "now let me watch this round; trust me, after yours, it's the only one worth watching."

Curious, I divert my attention to the ring, and my heart races a little. Andreas steps into position, utterly uninterested in his own fight. His opponent, an attractively tall blond, appears the opposite, invested and excited for the duel at hand, but my eyes widen when I see his face. It's the same guy whose wrist I broke on the first day. I never found out his name, and I sense the tension.

"Who's that?" I point to the blonde,

Alayna gives me a look, "You're new, so I'll excuse you for not knowing, but that guy is Ryder Jameson. He's ranked the third strongest at Valhalla. The best strategist in our batch, strongest water elemental, and obviously devilishly handsome." Before I pawn her off an admirer, she continues, "he's got the attitude the size of the sun and an ego that just never goes down." Okay, so not an admirer.

"I'm surprised he's still going," I notice the bandage on his wrist, "considering I dislocated his wrist and electrocuted him a few days ago."

She gives no reaction as if this information was common knowledge, which I suppose it was, in a way. It wasn't every day when you had your ass handed to you by a new recruit.

"You never back down from a challenge at Valhalla," she deadpans, "even if you're injured."

Meaning I was right to assume that honor mattered more than humanity. My eyes trail from Alayna back to the ring, my dark-haired acquaintance. He finds me staring and gives me a crooked smile while I scowl back.

The whistle blows, and the match begins.