The Beasts Within Us

I'M SORRY!

⚠️TRIGGER WARNING! ⚠️

THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VIOLENCE AND PANIC ATTACKS

IF YOU FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH THE ABOVE THEN WHEN YOU SEE THE NEXT BOLD WORDS AND THE FOLLOWING EMOJI: ⚠️ SCROLL UNTIL THE END OF THE SCENE.

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It's quite convenient that Princess Azainnea asked to spar with me. We were going to come down to the palace' training arena to begin the games and Princess Azainnea simply saved us from hours of formalities and hidden threats.

I step onto the black sand of the training arena and smirk. The sand of the training arena is black because it hides the fact that royals bleed as well - that we are just as human as the commoners on the street. The Grand Arena - where the public is allowed to watch - has white sand.

This way Azainneas' father won't see how much of her blood I shed.

I see her on the other end of the arena, as we slowly walk toward each other. I grip my swords tighter, painfully aware of my fathe-  my king's eyes on me.

We stop a few feet away from one another and start to circle, each of us following the other.  I take a moment to asses my opponent. 

She has two...hilts in her hands? Both are made out of some kind of white marble. I suspect she will forge the blades using her water power. She also has a dagger in a thigh sheath that I am working very hard not to look at. 

We both have retractable staffs and I grip my two swords close to my sides prepared for any move she makes. We have both adorned the minimal amount of armour allowed because - and I quote - "We are too valuable to risk losing so easily"

I note that, somehow, even when wearing armour, she still manages to show so much skin.

I watch her movements closely, tuning all my hightend senses to the person before me. I can hear her soft breathing, the light shift of sand beneath her feet, her nail running up and down the hilt of her - soon to be - sword.

She stops. I stop. 

My eyes narrow instinctively, waiting for her to make her first move.

She grapes hold of her hilts. I do the same. She blinks and her eyes seem to darken glowing as the power courses through her. Forming two spathae that glow the same shade as her eyes.

My swords were forged in dragon fire so they don't melt when my hands heat up. Instead they channel my flame through the sharp blades so they can cut through flesh like butter.

For a moment, nothing moves, nothing breaths. 

Then her right foot twitches.

⚠️VIOLENCE AHEAD⚠️

She turns, arcing her swords through the air. I do the same, allowing our blades to clash, sending sparks and steam dancing in the air between us. She locks eyes with me and smirks. A thrill runs through my body as we push away from one another, only to clash again and again.

The flatside of my sword glides against her forearm and her eyes widen before she jumps back. She looks me up and down appraising and I feel like I've won something.

"Hand to hand" she says, throwing her spathae aside. I smirk and throw my sword into the sand, loving the thought of getting closer. 

But it's only because I want to determine her strengths and weaknesses.