II - Sigh of Smoke

Chapter 52 - Am I

-Atlanta-

There was nothing she could've done now, for there he stood before her, the man she had to fight to the death.

Unless she made her decision now, she was sure she would've done something she'd regret. She had time, she guessed, to figure out who in the end to betray. The mere notion that she'd leave this room today having lost someone, for there was no other way, made her ache. Ignoring the dull throb, she abandoned her fellow Dragon Blessed and strode forward, ignoring the countless eyes on her form, ignoring the possibilities of loss, ignoring her own unwanted fears, and even the scrutinizing glare of her King.

Atlanta fell to her knee and spoke firmly, "your highness, I am honoured by this opportunity you have granted me."

There was a rustle in the room, like shivering leaves. She caught a phrase here and there amongst the vast span of shadows.

"... The broken Pale Sword is..."

"... She'll lose..."

"... Tainted blooded whore..."

"... Pale wretch..."

Atlanta stood, blinking slightly as she forced herself to ignore the comments she was overhearing. She had heard them many times before, they had even been spoken in front of King Cragon hundreds of times before. Now seeing him ignore them, not even batting an eye—although this was the normal reaction—made her itch. She eased her expression, not letting him see that she was bothered.

She was successful.

"We'll go by the rules of the three-crowned viper, as well as the comrade's mercy." King Cragon announced, adjusting his sleeves.

Atlanta nodded in response and turned on her heel. It did not take her long to find the other Dragon Vessels amongst the mass of black clothes. She spotted Aleksandra's fierce frown and glowing glare, Dareon's clenched jaw and damp brow, and even Lucan's unwavering stare. Shivers danced down Atlanta's spine ad she stepped off the duelling stage, and approached them again in the shadows.

"What'd he say?" Aleksandra hissed sharply, arms crossed firmly over her chest as she stepped into Atlanta. Her concern for her was blatantly obvious in the crease of her brow, and Atlanta couldn't help but smile down at her.

Atlanta echoed what King Cragon had just announced to her.

"Meaning?"

"Three rounds. The first two are mock rounds, and the final is the proper kratraen." Then she let her eyes fall on Dareon and the quiver of arrows at his hip. The bow in his hands shook visibly, even in the dark glow of dawn. She caught his gaze, and saw that even though he was nervous, his stare was unwavering. "Can you do it?" She asked quietly, almost hesitantly.

For a moment Dareon simply stared back, his jaw working as he pondered. Then, with a new found determination, he nodded, "yes."

"You know what to do?"

"I have one arrow," he said as if he was relaying a practiced speech, "and I will use it when I think you need it." Atlanta nodded, gaze dropping to her feet, thankful she didn't have to explain. She had ridiculed Dareon practically the entire journey to Zarkarath, and here she was asking for his participation in keeping her alive. In the end, she wasn't even sure if it would be worth it. There was still a chance she was going to betray them.

Then Dareon spoke again, tone soft and sure. "I don't think you will need it, but just in case."

She raised her head and saw his smirk, and realized that even he had faith in her. A knot loosened from her shoulders, and an even sigh passed through her lips. Relief, that's what she felt. Something she never thought she should've had. Then, at the corner of her eye, a figure loomed, and when she turned she saw those familiar black eyes that no longer looked to her with hate.