𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐘

Chapter 8: Narcissist

Don't ask me how I know how to fence, I just can.

It was in Aelin's blood. Her mother was a fencer, and so was her grandmother, and great grandmother. That was one of the few talents the Ashryver women possessed.

Aelin grabbed a sabre feeling along the length of the weapon and grinned. Expensive, cleaned, and glimmering. So different to the long sticks Aedion and her used to find and duel each other with.

The three other pairs took their place on the floor and Aelin lazily made her way in front of her own partner. She made out the way his body was lean and how he was taller than her by a few inches. The tight white fabric of the suit did her no mercy from hiding his arm and leg muscles.

"En Garde," Arobynn called.

Aelin shifted her body sideways, with her front foot pointing towards her opponent and the other in a 90 degrees angle, "Allez!"

He moved quickly and struck his sabre aiming at her chest, but she leaped backwards. The sounds of metal clashing with one another was distant and Aelin waited, she needed him to come for her. They were already panting.

He charged to her, posture so fast and sharp like a bull that when Aelin twisted around, he staggered and hit the table. The students surrounding that table gasped and some fencers stopped to watch.

Her breath was ragged but she straightened her back and loosened the grip on her sabre. She lifted her weapon to a parry right when his own met hers. Before Aelin could blink his counter-attack caught her by surprise.

"One point," Arobynn said gesturing to the boy, or more like boasted, "Again."

Fire ran through Aelin's veins and she cursed under her breath. The tips of her blonde hair were sticking to her forehead and her hands felt wet in her gloves.

"Tired?" The boy asked, his voice deep and playful. She didn't reply, only because his narcissistic ass was beating her at her own game.

"Allez!"

She pushed forward with determination and he fought against each attack. They were swift and competitive. Aelin wasn't going to lose.

Things got more intense and images flared in her visions, memories she didn't want to see. Her chest heaved up and down quickly but she kept pushing and he didn't back down either.

Her feet guided her around the room and her arm kept striking at him, she wouldn't give up yet, not when she was so close.

"Halt!" The teacher yelled and the fencers on the floor backed up.

It was so hot. Her wrist barked in pain but she couldn't stop- wouldn't stop. Apparently, he thought the same because never once did he falter or listen.

Arobynn ordered again, "Halt! Both of you!"

It was all a blur of metal clashing together.

Aelin was surprised at how bold he was because she took a few steps backwards and tripped on the staircase. Her back hit the floor and her head ached.

His sabre lightly tapped her on the chest calling the end of their match.

She swiftly removed her mask feeling like she was suffocating.

He removed his own and instead of being greeted by a gargoyle face that should've matched his egotistical personality, Aelin stared at something far different.

His hair was a pale silver that reached the tip of his ear as the front strands dripped with sweat. Then there were his eyes, a pine-green color that stared at her in a puzzling way.

But Aelin looked to the tattoo etched on the side of his face that started at his temple and flowed over his jaw and down his throat where it disappeared beneath the suit.

She looked away, face flushed, when she realized she was staring. She needed to get out of there, everyone was so quiet as they watched him extend a hand to her.

Scoffing she pushed his hand away and got up to leave the room.

"Wait!" He called after her.

Like hell I will.

Anyone here a Brooklyn Nine-Nine Fan?