Purpose Kills

Chapter Two

Des slipped into the ring, looking around. She surveyed Lyon and Nikolai standing next to each other and watching her outside the ring. She raised an eyebrow, a silent command, and they spread out to opposite sides. She nodded in approval and glanced at the sun. Ten minutes. She thought to herself, beginning to pace. Ten minutes, everyone would come to the ring.

She continued pacing, Lyon watching her quietly, his hands behind his back. She slid a dagger out of her thigh sheath, spinning it, then throwing it at a target nailed a few feet away. It was a little off from the center- she had never been a perfect shot.

Finally, finally everyone in her legion started to show up. She did a headcount, and nodded in satisfaction upon seeing everyone here. She lifted her chin and threw back her shoulders, trying to appear taller. She knew she scared the wits out of some of them already, but you could never be too careful.

"Gentlemen, tonight I want clean fights. Any broken bones, I will echo to you," She said quietly, meeting the eyes of a few known rule breakers, "one dagger only. Don't break the rules I have set into place. Please." She gave a wolfish grin and tilted her head to one side, pointing at two of her men and snapping her fingers. They immediately stepped into the ring, and she walked over to her small stand, picking up two daggers from the weapon rack. She threw one to each.

Des eyed them both, their muscles tensing as they prepared. This is the fun part. Watching them squirm. She thought, her head tilting to one side. "Begin." They immediately sprang at each other, blades clashing in a low whine. Their movements were slightly blurred. She had picked two of her fastest, leanest, to fight each other.

Her eyes scanned them as the shorter of the two, a red haired male named Kalister, struck out with his leg and snapped a kick into the taller one, Ijah's, stomach. Ijah skipped backwards, his lips pursed against the pain. Very good. She thought, tapping her fingers on her thigh.

Kalister suddenly charged Ijah, his head buried in Ijah's stomach. She cringed and frowned, shaking her head. Kalister pinned Ijah to the ground, putting his dagger to the green haired male's throat. She sighed in disappointment, walking down and pushing Kalister off of Ijah.

"Technically, as rules apply, Kalister won. However, I'm very disappointed in that... technique." She made a face at the word, "You left your back exposed. If this were a real fight, you'd be dead." She crosses her arms, surveying them both, Ijah still on the ground. "Get up," She snapped at him, and stalked back to her podium.

Kalister helped up Ijah and they disappeared back into the small crowd, their daggers left inside that ring. She was about to point at another two of her fighters, Lyon and a short, stocky male who went by Anro, when a horse pounded into the ring, kicking up plumes of sand. It was a beautiful Friesian mare, and it snorted loudly as the rider pulled her to a halt. The sand and dust settled. 

  Desarae glared at the mounted rider, her jaw clenching as she tilted her head to one side, silently demanding to know what this interruption was about. The rider smoothly dismounted, and she assessed them. Part of the cavalry unit. Slight limp in the right leg. Terrible posture. They stopped before her, shorter because of her stand.

  "My lady," The rider began, bowing slightly, earning a snort from her. They twitched awkwardly, "I have a letter from the cavalry unit commander. He wishes to speak with you about the charge against the jinn camp." Des swung to look at Lyon, who shrugged, looking confused as she. Her eyes burned into him, but she slowly turned back to the messenger and put a pleasant smile on her face.

  "Of course. Come with me," She said with lethal calm, stepping down from her stand and stalking to her tent. She held open the flap for them, and they slipped inside. They took off their helmet, and Des was slightly shocked to see who it was. It was Leah, one of her old friends. They had been in the same training legion, once upon a time. They had been separated five years prior. Her anger dissipated immediately, and she wiped the surprise off her face. 

  "You're not really going to do it, are you?" Leah asked quietly, swallowing and playing with the black plumes on her helmet. Desarae shook her head, beginning to pace.

  "No. I never planned to. Lyon advised me to try it, but I didn't think it would be worth the men to try it. We know nothing about the camp, really." She ran a hand through her thick hair. Leah watched her carefully, speaking slowly.

  "I.. wanted to come see you," Leah mumbled, pursing her lips. Des frowned, not liking that one bit. They had been separated, and she had learned how to deal with it. It wasn't like they had been the best of friends. 

  "And why is that?" She asked quietly, not letting the bite that wanted to slip into her words do so. 

  "Because.. The war is going to get bad. Very, very bad, Des. Someone you love is going to die," She swallowed quietly, toying with her fingers. Desarae stiffened, her eyes narrowing slightly. She set her jaw, staring hard at Leah.

  "How do you know this?" She asks quietly, her gaze steely and slightly worried.

  "I went to visit a seer, just to see what I could learn," Leah said quietly, shifting from foot to foot under her gaze, "She told me about it."

  Des suddenly snorted quietly, shaking her head. "A seer? Really? You believe in the shit they spew?" She shook her head, pointing outside of the tent. Away from the camp. "Go, get out of my camp. I really thought you had more sense than that, Leah."

  Leah looked as if she'd been slapped. She was always sensitive. Des thought, shaking her head. She frowned at her former friend and jerked her chin towards the outside, her eyes narrowing, all amusement fading from her face. Leah looked like a kicked puppy as she slowly moved outside, her lips pursed. Des watched her go, shaking her head. She sat down at the foot of her bed, resting her chin in her hand. 

  A few minutes later, Lyon slipped into her tent, his head tilted to one side, a bit of hair falling into his eyes. She could see it was already dark out by the looks of it, the starry night beaming down at them. She looked up, her face utterly blank. He sat down beside her, grinning at her and slinging an arm over her shoulders. She made a face at him, which made him chuckle. "Come on, commander, let's get drunk off our asses," He said lightheartedly, ruffling her hair. She scowled at him, smoothing down her hair carefully. She looked at him carefully, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. He just grinned like an angel at her, his golden hair just accenting the fact. She finally gave up. 

  "Alright, Lyon, anything for you," She snorted quietly, and watched him stand. He held out a hand for her, which she took and hauled herself up. 

  "Anything?" He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows. She merely punched his arm none to gently, and let him drag her out of her tent.