Boundless Limits {B.Durran}

08

Her blood sizzles with boiling anger, even fifteen minutes later and after a freezing shower to cool her down— it didn't help.

Tierney's mind rages just as much as the pain screeching from her knuckles, the ebbing as consistent as the thumping heart of her heart. She misses the adrenaline rush as she sits on a dry bench, staring at her hands.

Under the crimson blood, they're bruised and battered. Her skin is split and some parts raw, and with each movement she makes, blood clots break, spreading a new splash of colour over the wounds.

Nothing's broken— that's what she's telling herself.

The woman sighs as she leans her head back, hitting the cool stone, but too paranoid to close her eyes, too lost in emotion to be sure she won't rush right out of the bathing chambers if she sees the memory of Ruairi's father boasting that his son killed a Valkorin.

Her jaw locks as she winces from the remembrance of past pain. Tierney wants nothing more than to make Fola, to make Ruairi feel the same pain she felt when he killed Daithi a week before Threshing. The same kind of pain that never quite fades.

Being overwhelmed by emotion during a fight is the fastest way to a death sentence, Tierney knows she only won because Fola underestimated her anger and her ability to fight while being consumed by it.

She has lost count of how many nights and days she has fought someone angry, fighting while on the verge of tears. Something good about being trained by Aodh is he's fucking thorough.

Tierney bites her lip, thinking of her honour, and her family, she would rather die than taint their image. But in that fight, she knew she didn't want to win, she wanted to hurt Fola.

The biting of her lip turns to gnawing at her cheek to stop herself from rushing to find the brother of the bastard she utterly humiliated during the challenges.

At least, Tierney proved herself, and she doubts anyone present would want to fight her openly after witnessing that. She did enough damage that they didn't hesitate to rush Fola to the healers, she did enough damage to tear her fists to this extent.

She pours rubbing alcohol over her hands, barely noticing the firey sting as she wraps them in bandages, supplies she picked up from her bed and pack before heading to the bathing chambers.

Lifting a white bandaged hand to her face, Tierney winces at the tender skin of a bruise sprouting from the side of her face. She didn't come out unscathed, but she can happily say that the other person looks worse— far worse.

Fola appeared different in that fight, her intentions felt different, the woman didn't just want to win, she wanted to kill her just as Ruairi killed Daithi. 

The Ardhearts and the Valkorins have always been at each other's throats. A family rivalry since before Tierney's grandparents' time. The Ardhearts are legacies for almost as long as the Valkorins with 200 years instead of three.

The rivalry has lasted so long, that no one can tell Tierney why it started. But the feeling of hatred toward the family runs deep and it only makes her loathe them more when she found out Daithi was killed, and Artair gloated that Ruairi is the one who did it.

She steps from the chambers, still with a wrath-filled gaze, fresh leather covering her body, hiding the bruising only her ribs. "Calmed down yet?" Tierney knows that voice too well as her grip on her sparring clothes tightens.

"I expected Ciaran to be here, not you," her cold remark doesn't make Bodhi flinch from where he is, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "Why is the Tail Section Executive concerned with the likes of a Flame Section Cadet?" Her voice is bitter as she stalks down the corridor.