A Bloody Crown

Chapter 2: Energy

I laced up my leather boots, my fingers working deftly up the laces. The thigh strap I used to keep my knives in slid up my leg nicely, buckling finely at the exact spot I needed it.

After sheathing my weapons, including the ones on my back, I stood and stretched. Rolled out my neck and arms, pulling every ligament and muscles to their extreme. My legs received the same treatment.

I paused for a moment, feeling something shifting in the back of my mind. My instinct told me to allow it to take control, let the feeling take over.

Sounds, sights, smells increased. I could hear people outside, smell food in the kitchen, see cracks in the floor I couldn't before. I felt things, felt the air on my neck, my hair shifting on my arms, my blood moving.

I shrugged it off, not wanting to delve too deep into that, that new sense. My hands parted the curtains in front of me, allowing sunlight to pour onto my face. The training grounds were just visible from here, and it seemed some of the soldiers were already out there.

Tying my hair back with my ribbon, I lifted my window, and slipped out onto the ground. The late morning sun was shining, reflecting off what dew was still left on the plants.

I started walking, but felt an energy pushing through me. Something urging me to run. Telling me to go. Faster, faster. An instinct churning from deep within me.

So I indulged.

My feet began leaving the ground, pace picking up. My lungs filled with oxygen, heart pumping blood.

I was running faster than I ever had before, or ever thought possible. Trees blurred, grass shifted colors, water filled my eyes. Joy began rising in me, like a wellspring allowed to flow for the first time.

I stopped abruptly about twenty feet from the ring, looking back at every male who stared at me. Dust puffed up across my black boots, temporarily coating them brown.

Pieces of armor littered the ground, the sword racks surrounded the ring, and blood was coated onto a couple of the men's chests.

In the center of the ring was that stain. The one I created. I could still smell it, the way I did yesterday. Smell the fear, the iron, the anger. I could hear it dripping. I felt like I could still see the arm laying on the ground.

"Duchess Aelfrun?" one of them asked, concern in his voice, snapping me out of my daze. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," I replied. "Let's get started."

* * *

The bowstring was cool in my hand at the end of the training day. My two main fingers nocked the arrow, holding it steadily. With my feet planted, I pulled the string back, listening to it sing. My muscles in my right arm, through my chest, down to my core tightened with anticipation, making my body a single unit.

My eye gazed down the shaft of the arrow, looking towards the target hanging from a branch in a tree. It swayed gently, providing a nice level of challenge.

I held my breath, stopping the last movement of my body.

After tracking its movements, and anticipating the motion, I released. It seemed to move in slow motion, spiraling towards the target, before striking in the ring just outside the bullseye.

"Well.. holy shit," General Markus murmured beside me, his deep south human accent apparent. "Did you sell your soul last night?"

I blinked harshly, then turned to him. "What?"

He approached the target, inspected it rigorously, then yanked the arrow out. He mumbled something again before returning to me, placing the arrow in my quiver. "Duchess Aelfrun, you have always been the worst recruit I have ever trained."

"You understand I could have you executed," I replied.

Markus held his hands up, then continued, "Allow me to finish, my lady. You could never do anything right. But today, it's as if.. as if you're not the same person you were. I guess that knock on your head from Azayzel did you some good after all."

"I suppose it did," I murmured.

He jerked his chin towards the target, then to my bow. "Ten more shots, then run your mile. See you Sunday." Shoving his hands in his leather pockets, he shook his head before walking away, mumbling to himself about me.

Stopping, I allowed myself to listen to him, wondering if I could catch his voice like I was able to early this morning.

"Something ain't right. Something is off."

Swallowing my annoyance, I pulled another arrow, repeated the process, and let it fire. The same position as last time. Slightly irritated, I adjusted my aim slightly to the left, released, and hit just outside the center.

I conducted it over again, and over, and over. Drawing, aiming, stabilizing, releasing. On my final shot of the night, well past ten, I hit the dead center of the bullseye. Sighing with satisfaction, I approached the bullseye, pulled every arrow out, and racked all my weapons I'd used that day.

The swords, knives, bow, and staff slid into their designated spot easily, the recruits assigned to cleaning the weapons racks earlier had finished only moments after Markus left.

I walked to where the running track began, a small dirt path one mile long around part of the castle grounds. It took the runner through training grounds, the apple orchard, flower garden, and then back to the ring.

Gritting my teeth, I took a deep breath, then began to put one foot in front of the other.

As I ran, I allowed my mind to drift over the day, praying to the Cauldron that would make the run faster.

Flashes of sword combat from early this morning, knife throwing from early this afternoon, and staff training for balance just before dinner hit me. It was the first day of training I'd ever had where I didn't leave absolutely humiliated.

I held my own in all three, especially sword combat. It was strange- things I didn't notice before in an opponent were screaming at me today. I could hear an sharp inhalation of breath, sense a tightening in muscles, feel when they were about to strike, like an instinct.

As I threw knives, I could almost predict where it would land, how it would rotate in the air. For my staff, I held balance, for the first time feeling every muscle activate as I asked them for strength. Even as I ran, I felt my muscles moving, could feel them working in tandem.

I passed through the apple orchard, smelling the sweet, lovely scent of apples in mid summer. It filled my lungs, intoxicating my senses.

The flower garden was just ahead, tulips and roses drifting my way.

My legs churned, lungs pumping. I kept running, kept moving.

Felt what it means to be.. human. To be alive, to have joy in physical pain for the first time.

As I ran by the flowers, I held my fingers out, drifting them through the petals of various flowers, catching pollen.

I rounded the final corner, looking at the training grounds again, the place I'd spent the entire day training, learning to fight for my life.

Because one day, likely sooner than I hoped, I would be in that position. A position of taking their life or letting them take mine.

Who the 'they' is, I wasn't sure.

I skidded to a slow stop at the archery range, breathing deeply. My head was light, feet heavy.

Staring at the moon I'd ran under, I sat. Sat and simply existed. Not as Duchess, not as a warrior or dancer, but as Aelfrun. The one who loved the stars, loved the shadows, loved the moon.

We seemed to be one in the same, as if she gave me strength, gave me power.

Though that wasn't true. There wasn't much special about me, not that wasn't given to me by someone else.

I leaned back onto the grass, allowing my full body weight to sink down onto the green beneath me. Shadows and murmurs whisped by, sneaking and curling.

Letting my eyes relax, I fell into a light slumber.