Blood Mercenary

*Chapter Twenty-One*

*Chapter Twenty-One*

The last ray of the sun disappeared behind the looming palace, and the double moons took its place. It had been an entire day of practicing. Vivien was tired, annoyed, and grouchy. Rylan’s needless comments were not helping.

“If you are any more straightforward with your attacks, I--”

Vivien growled, her grip on the wooden stick tightening. Crack. It snapped. Vivien let out a measured breath and tossed it aside, onto the ground littered with broken sticks. Rylan took another one from the rack next to him and tossed it. Vivien caught it with one hand.

“This isn’t working.”

She turned the poor excuse of a weapon in her hand. Everything about it was wrong. It was too light, too clumsy. With a flick of her wrist, she threw it at Rylan. He caught it in a movement almost too quick for Vivien’s eyes to follow.

It was he who let out a measured breath this time.

“I need real weapons.”

A strong gust of wind blew past Vivien, and dust rose into the air. It was a large clearing surrounded by fences. It had racks of weapons of all sorts. The variety of the weapons was balanced by their cheap qualities although Rylan had simply rolled his eyes when Vivien mentioned it. It was originally an area used for Royal Guards to practice, but due to the sudden decrease in servants and guards in the palace, hardly anyone came here anymore. It was a perfect place for training.

“Define real weapons.”

“Reap is--”

“No.”

“But--”

“That thing hurts.”

“Fine,” Vivien snapped. “Those funnily shaped metals the humans swing around.”

Rylan gave her a long stare and walked around the shelves and boxes. He fetched out a rusty sword. It sailed through the air in a large arc, and Vivien caught it, weighing it and striking at invisible enemies a few times.

Another poor excuse of a weapon.

Better than wooden sticks.

But nowhere good enough for her to wield.

She threw it back at Rylan, at his face to be exact. His sigh was expected as he once again sidestepped and caught the weapon mid-flight.

“Your Majesty,” Rylan mocked, peering into the boxes, “do lower your standards slightly. Nothing manmade is on par with a demonic weapon.”

“Just let her use her weapon, brother. You’ll make sure she won’t hit you, right?”

Damn demons and their jumping around without warning.

The sudden arrival of Sebas, completely undetected by Vivien, almost sent her swinging Reap at him right there and then. Her arm was half-raised, and her shadow wavering with Reap’s desire to protect his master.

“Mind I watch?”

Yes.

“Do whatever you want,” Rylan told him. “Vivien, if you insist on using Reap--”

Hey! After all these minutes of her persuading him and failing, a word from his brother was all it took? She wasn’t about to let someone she barely knew interfere with her business.

“I changed my mind. This,” Vivien said, raising her sword and bending her knees, “would be just fine.”

She initiated, running with the blade pointed at the ground. Vivien raised her sword, feigning an attack. She saw him lifting his arm. She brought it to his gut. Rylan’s blade met hers, the two swords forming a cross. Vivien jumped back and put some distance between them. As she thought, reflex-wise, he had the advantage.