As They Fall [First Draft] ~ Currently Editing ~

1.5 (first edit)

The arena lay in the centre of Havar not far from the local tavern. Limestone steps led down to an oval pit with a sandy floor shaded by the thick branches of an ancient chestnut tree. Open to the public, it was used to host a variety of contests but mostly it provided a location for drunken brawls. I drew several deep breaths and followed the steps down to the centre. In these clothes, I was Skylar, not Amelia. I had to remain calm and cool like ice. I started with a few of my usual warm ups to pull a crowd, beginning with my throwing knives. With a few expert throws, I sent all six of my knives hurtling toward the target, grinning as they struck the bullseye, part of me imagining it was Sir William. After a few rounds and the arrival of a handful of onlookers, I recovered my knives and sheathed them, retrieving the bow that hung from one of chestnut tree's lower branches. I knocked an arrow, my pent-up frustrations bubbling forth as I released it. The arrow fired with such power it ripped straight through a branch that already contained a few dozen arrows, most of which were mine.

As per usual, the townsfolk flocked to the arena once they knew I was there, eager to watch my demonstrations, many calling out greetings. I finished with a performance of difficult sword techniques and turned a few somersaults, ending my warmups by sprinting at the crowd who flinched and gasped when I stopped directly in front of them, my face only inches away from a young man's. I grinned at the astonished look on his face and bellowed,

"Who wants to fight? 100 gold to anyone who can make me yield!" Many of the townspeople were dishevelled, their clothing patched and fraying, a product of the terrible harvest and weather we'd recently had. By doubling the usual prize, I hoped to throw a few matches and help them out, but very few seemed like they had the energy or the ability to fight. Despite their circumstances, the crowd cheered the air buzzing with excitement as many sat down on the limestone steps to watch. A burly man who I recognised as an off-duty guard was the first to take up my offer. He put up a good fight but as one of the better fed and better-paid citizens of Havar I didn't hold back, knocking him to the ground with a few precise attacks. He got to his feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood in the sand, grinning despite his split lip. I dipped my head to him and he did the same, returning to the steps empty-handed.

"Who's up next?" I shouted, scanning the crowd for a possible opponent. Two young men came forward and challenged me at the same time; Silver Hawk mercenaries I realised, recognising the emblem stitched into their jerkins. They fought well, clearly accustomed to fighting together, but ultimately, they were defeated. Much too green. When it became apparent that none of the poor townsfolk were going to fight I considered ending the contest then and there. Until a flash of movement caught my attention. At the back, a young girl of about fifteen years was pushing her way through the crowd. She wore riding leathers and had a dagger strapped to her waist, not unlike my own. Our eyes met and I saw a younger version of myself. The quality of her clothing and the way she wrinkled her nose as she shouldered through the crowd was enough to tell me she wasn't cut from the same cloth as the dirty masses around her.

She drew closer and I took note of the intricate snake ring on her right hand, the symbol of the Marsh family. I raised my eyebrows and tried to recall whether Sir William had a younger sister who had not yet been presented at court. There was no denying that the Marsh family were handsome, with their sculpted features, black hair and startling green eyes; she was no exception. Slightly taller than me, with wavy black hair and eyes the colour of green sea glass she was a stunning image. Her eyes mixed with the sunlight creating dappled pools of colour; a stark contrast with the hard lines of her mouth and brow.

"I'll fight!" she announced. The crowd erupted into excited cheering, some already exchanging bets. My chest squeezed and I silently begged for her to withdraw her offer. These contests were the easiest way to help the townspeople outside of my uncle's estate, but injuring a noble would mean almost certain imprisonment or at the very least a lifelong ban from the arena.