Becoming Her Knight

Chapter One

The deafening clang of metal meeting metal sounded across the practice yard. Finnea Uriro fought in the center of a sand circle, her sword a blur in the hot summer air. She felt sweat soaking into the cloth wrapping her hands, but she didn't dare to shift her grip on the handle of her sword. Her opponent was a pale flash of muted color beyond the reach of her weapon. She had no conscious thoughts, focused completely on acting and reacting to the man mercilessly attacking her. Every movement happened so quickly that she knew that she had only lasted as long as she had purely by muscle memory. Parries, blocks, and deflections happened in the space between breaths, her arms burned with exertion, and her legs quivered with exhaustion.

Despite all that, Finn was keeping up with her brother. She fought with the circumspection of someone who had faced this same opponent countless times, who knew the way he thought better than she knew herself. So when she saw the opening she didn't think about it, she just went for it. Her sword slid into her brother's shoulder like a hot knife through butter.

They both froze. She knew her eyes were almost the size of saucers but couldn't gather enough will power to control her expression. He stared back at her with her sword still piercing his shoulder, his face unreadable as always. Thick red blood dripped down Finn's blade and filled the hot summer air with the smell of copper and sweat.

The sound of slow clapping came to Finn from outside the practice ring.

"Excellent work, Finn," her father's voice came to her distantly, slowly pulling at the corners of the fog of adrenaline that Finn was trapped in. "Disengage," her father said flatly.

Ruven, Finn's brother, straightened up out of his stance first and Finn stumbled to stay close so that she didn't pull her sword from his shoulder. A panicked voice in the back of her head was babbling about blood vessels and that her sword might be the only thing keeping Ruven from bleeding out all over the sand of the practice circle. It was counterintuitive to pull a weapon out in many situations.

His face still blank, Ruven took her sword in one hand and yanked it from his shoulder with barely a flinch. Blood gushed from the wound, but it didn't shoot out with enough strength to suggest a punctured artery.

"Get cleaned up and meet me in the armory," their father said shortly, his face as unreadable as her brother's, before turning on his heel and walking casually away.

Once he was out of hearing range, Finn turned toward Ruven. She had no idea what she was supposed to say in a situation like the one she found herself in. She had never landed a direct hit on her brother before. Ruven was a swordsman without parallel. Privately, Finn thought he was probably even better than their father was. But, she had been nicking him during practices for the past few weeks, so maybe she should have expected it.

"Are you okay?" she asked hesitantly. She hovered near him, but wasn't sure if she should try and help him take off his leather armor, or put pressure on the wound, or what she should do. She was the one who had stabbed him, so she felt responsible, even if it was their father who insisted they use live blades.

Ruven barely spared her a glance, but his expression softened somewhat. "Help me bandage it and I'll forgive you," he said with a wry smirk.

Finn tried to smile back, but she knew that it looked wobbly.

She followed Ruven as he led the way through the Seelie Court at a sedate pace. The court was as beautiful as it always was. It existed in a constant state of summer, the sky clear and blue as a robin's egg, the grass soft and green and fragrant, the flowers vibrant and bobbing in a gentle pleasant breeze. The buildings that made up the many halls and homes within the court were all carved in gentle swooping arches from pure white marble. Songbirds sang in the branches and frogs croaked from the small babbling brooks that wove through the grounds.