Battle Scars

The Blood Qualifier

It had been a few days since their night-in and the four of them had felt a shift in their friendship. During this time, Nesta had become more and more restless and had asked Eve multiple times to ask Az about Cassian. Eve had. But her mate would only reply with 'he needs time.'

Today, before they started their routine, Gwyn decided that they would try their hand at the ribbon again. Eve murmured to Gwyn, "You've got this." Gwyn stared the ribbon down like an enemy on a battlefield. It rippled in the wind, dancing away, its motions unpredictable as any foe. "Do it for the miniature Pegasus," Emerie said and Eve laughed. "The miniature Pegasus," Nesta said, "was an illusion. And is now back in his make-believe meadow." "He loved Gwyn most," Emerie teased. "Despite your efforts to woo him."

Gwyn whispered, "I am the rock against which the surf crashes." Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons. Gwyn lifted the blade. "Nothing can break me."

Emerie said, "Nothing can break us."

The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction.

Azriel went wholly still, as if he had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved. Smooth as the Sidra, swift as the wind off the Illyrian Mountains, her entire body working in singing harmony, Gwyn lunged toward the ribbon, twirled, and as she spun, her arm opened up, executing a perfect backhanded slice that cut the winter morning itself. Half the ribbon fluttered to the red stone. A flawless, precise slice. Not one frayed strand rippled in the wind as the severed ribbon hanging from the beam flapped.

It was silent as they all took this moment in. Az and Cassian- who had returned just before Gwyn had cut the ribbon- were still and beaming.

Nesta bent down, picked up the fallen half of the ribbon, and solemnly tied it around Gwyn's brow. A makeshift version of what the priestesses wore atop their heads with their stones. Gwyn lifted trembling fingers to her brow, touching the ribbon with which Nesta had crowned her.

Nesta's voice was thick as she declared, "Valkyrie."

Eve came forward and hugged the priestess. "The first of them- rebirthed."

It became the ritual: to cut that ribbon, to be crowned with its severed half and anointed Valkyrie. Gwyn was the first. Emerie the second. By the end of training that morning, Nesta became the third.

Eve, despite her trying, did not succeed. Her frustration and embarrassment only increased as the day went by. Az had tried to comfort her but his only actions she was interested in was him teaching her the movement. And so that was how she spent her nights now.

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On the third day since Gwyn and others cut the ribbon, they came upon an obstacle course. Cassian said, "Valkyries were fearless and brilliant warriors on their own. But their true strength came from being a highly trained unit." He motioned to the obstacle course. "Alone, none of you will be able to get through that course. Together, you can find a way." Emerie snorted. Cassian levelled a grin at her. "Looks simple, doesn't it?" Emerie had the good sense to look nervous.

Azriel clapped his hands, and all the females straightened. "You'll work in groups of three." Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, "What do we get if we finish the course?"

"Since there's no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn't bother to get a prize." Boos sounded. Eve lifted her chin in challenge. "Is that a challenge, Shadowsinger?" His only answer was a raise brow. "We are going to love proving you wrong." His shadows danced around them both- as if not knowing whose side to be on.