Shadelings

chapter five

Olivia

"Let's end this," I say. My eyes narrow, and I swing my sword out of its scabbard, showing it off with a dramatic flourish. Years of grueling training have lead to this day. The time to fight is now; there is no other way to settle this feud. The Vanguard Gymnasium is our battlefield.

She is in an elaborate dress; I am in yoga pants and a slouchy tee. We prepare for battle in our own way. She finishes her bottle of whiskey and throws it at the wall, watching it shatter. I run my tongue over my fangs and shoot her a glare. I'm going to have to clean that up.

She draws her rapiers and says, "Yes. It is time for me to claim my prince."

I narrow my eyes, and my stomach twists. Oh, it is on. She wants to steal everything from me. She always has. This war is more serious now than it ever would have been; Prince Rafae hangs in the balance.

"Ka anyị si na-egbu onye ọ bụla ọzọ," Constance shouts.

I point at her heart, condemning her to eternal hell-- or I would, if I had such power. "Silence, witch!" I scream. "No magic in this fight!"

Darkness taking over her features, she hisses, "I shall honor thy last wish." That settles it for us. I lunge forward with my sword, but Constance parries me to the side. She swings her left sword at me. I break the contact between my weapon and hers and try to leap away from the swing. It clips me in the side, ripping through my shirt. The cut is shallow, just enough to draw blood; I barely feel it, and it doesn't stop me from lunging after her again.

We swing at each other, parrying every blow. Neither of us is landing a hit. We're both thinking of ways to outwit the other, to find each other's greatest weaknesses. Constance is standing, angled to the left. She rarely attacks with her right sword, instead using it to block oncoming attacks.

I jump away from her and swing my sword in an arch at her right side. She brings a sword down to block it, but her rapier's tip hits the cross-guard of my sword. I feel my blade hit bone. Constance screams but sends a sword flying in my direction despite the pain. I block the attack, but the flat of the other sword hits me in the face. For a moment, I'm stunned. It's enough for Constance to sweep her foot behind mine and knock me to the ground.

My head slams and bounces off the hardwood floor. It feels like my skull was crushed like an eggshell. I gasp but drag myself to my feet and thrust my sword toward Constance. She moves out of the way. No one beats Olivia Winnlock that easily.

"Hath thee discovered how futile thine actions are?" She asks, her voice strong. She favors her right side, holding the right sword against the wound. Her dress is ruined.

"Please, witch, I don't need no magic to survive. I could kill thee right here, right now." A part of me registers that I'm saying this to my best friend, but I don't care.

I strike first. She raises her left sword and blocks the attack. The other sword, the one she had been using to hold her side, finds itself buried in my leg. Constance tries to pull the sword back out, but it's firmly lodged in my bone. I scream. The pain is excruciating. I know I need something to block the wound or it will bleed out, so I leave the sword in my leg. Better to leave her without the weapon.

Constance steps back. A wave of amusement passes over her features. I probably look ridiculous with a sword sticking out of me.

I start after her, limping. She pulls a dagger from the folds of her dress. Fucking assassin. I am a vanguard. I will win. I pull a knife out of my boot-- from the leg that doesn't have a sword sticking out of it-- and throw it at her neck.

She doesn't move in time. The knife stops before it breaks the skin. Constance falls over in a fake death.

"Olivia point," I wheeze. Constance laughs from her place on the floor. The sound comes out like she's choking. I win. Now I can have Prince Rafae's hand in marriage. If only. I sigh.

"I would have won if I wasn't drunk," she says, slowly sitting up and wincing.

Smirking, I say, "You're always drunk; it doesn't make a difference." Then, I throw my arms up and whoop. Some have called me a sore winner, which I always responded to with, I don't care about your little loser feelings. Apparently that's mean.

"Dịghachi," she mutters. Her wounds heal, and she says, "No, I'm not always drunk. I didn't kill an empress of Zann after a bottle of whiskey." True. She probably had the bottle after killing an empress of Zann.

"Oh, what was I thinking? You take work very seriously. Snuck in a few tequila shots afterwards, right? Maybe some chak?"

She stands up and walks over to me. Is she going to punch me? I wouldn't put it past her; I would probably do it if I were her. Although, I often prefer a verbal battle to a physical one. She says, "Lay down so I can get my sword." I do as she asks.

The thin sword has an elaborate guard around the hilt in the shape of an archangel dragon-- with musimite eyes. Half of the dragon and wires of the hilt are broken, and a large white rip in the leather of the hilt shows where Constance had two of her fingers chopped off a long time ago. She grabs it now, narrows her eyes, and casually twists the sword in my leg. I squeeze my eyes tight shut as if that's enough to numb the pain.

There should be a spell for this; I gasp as she leans against the sword. Gritting my teeth, I say, "You are so doing this on purpose."

She grins, revealing her inner sadist, and pushes down on the sword. She twists it; bone cracks; I scream. Then, she finally pulls the godsdamn sword out. "Oh, I could have numbed that, but I don't take anything seriously enough to care."

Fucking assassin bitch. A red haze settles over me, and I forget that this is all a game. I forget that she is my best friend; we're not "just having fun" anymore. I clench my fists tight, resist the urge to punch her. It's Constance. Just Constance. The one person you have, Olivia. Your best friend. Your only friend. "So, bitch," I hiss. I feel like a snake. "Are you gonna heal me now?"

"What was that, high and mighty vanguard? Are you asking for help?" I don't say anything, just glare; she pauses, wipes the blood off of her sword onto her dress, then says, "I guess I have to heal you before you die, even though your pain is totally turning me on." She says the same spell she did on herself, adding my name afterwards. I can feel my bones mending, my cuts healing. I'm still covered in blood. It itches and hurts a little while it heals, but it's over in a minute.

I push myself to my feet. "Always suspected you had a thing for BDSM," I say, even though I didn't. But this is Constance, so it does make sense.

"Oh, Olivia, you have no idea."

She winks. I laugh. And we're friends again. It doesn't take much.

I glance at the wall and find the clock. "Exams start in an hour and a half. I have tea in my apartment. I could, uh, use a little blood before we go. It's going to be long."

Constance looks down and says, "Oh shit, my dress is ruined." She shrugs. "No time. I really did a number on you. I guess I need to feed you."

Damn straight.

sorry for the short chapter; this is a more fun filler chapter before we kick off the exams. figured you could use some constance and olivia fun before everything goes to hell. c: song on hte side is i love it by icona pop, and it really.... fits this fight scene, aha. as always, thank you for reading! please comment / follow / vote if you like. feedback is always appreciated. thanks!

cover on the side by @ salmasey