Navigating my life in a world fueled by magic wasn't easy as a magicless witch.
After having a mildly concerning dream for a 9-year-old I had decided that I would dedicate my life to joining the special forces in the war against 'the ghostly'.
To j...
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When I'd gone to dinner yesterday, I'd watched out for more of the notices about the tournament. Because of that I'd found out that it would be held exactly today.
It was pretty short notice but the word had spread fast and everyone was talking about it.
All of the students I had passed seemed to want to participate. It was a weird thought that most students thought that they could win even though they would ultimately be last. Who knew, maybe that would also be me.
I had hoped that I could just turn up without applying. It shouldn't be a problem seeing that the notices had only been up since yesterday.
That's why I'd been extra fast while cleaning today. I'd gotten the laundry early to put up on the clothes line on the balconies and skipped lunch.
On second thought, that had probably not been the cleverest decision of today but in hindsight you were always wiser.
I'd even gotten my black sword with the purple gem stone from underneath my bed where it had been hidden for now.
It was supposed to bring me luck on this sunny day. As I stepped outside in the afternoon I already heard the commotion of the tournament that had started in the early noon.
It was held in the arena that belonged to the wielding court. Only a few people were actually in the pit while most were watching from above.
I saw the tall figure of Sir Ashdracon down there who was observing the two opponents who were circling each other before attacking. While being excited of getting some exercise after such a long time I was simultaneously petrified.
Not only was I going to have to prove myself in front of everyone, this fight would also decide my whole life from now onwards.
As I stepped forward I became part of the group of watchers that surrounded the pit.
Both contestants were werewolves who had already drawn their claws. It was the only weapon they needed. While I loved my sword it would be a disadvantage against the shifters who already had their weapons incorporated into their bodies.
I could only see a splatter of blood from my view point before one of them fell onto the ground. Although the guy was still conscious and leaning on his elbows to defend himself it was clear that he wouldn't get up.
Sir Ashdracon saw that and called the fight to an end as it became obvious who the winner was. The overly obnoxious guy threw his fists into the air and let himself be celebrated by his pack members. I felt such embarrassment towards him that I almost missed the loser getting carried away.
I saw that Sir Ashdracon said something to the winner who stopped in his celebration. I could only guess what he'd been told when he walked from the pit. He climbed up the stairs of the arena and bumped into his friends in a man hug.
