Rising Light

Chapter 1: And So It Begins

Kate ducked, felt the air rushing just over her head, a few stray strands dancing in the wake of the punch. But she didn't let it get to her. She pushed her hands up, force firmly behind her palms. Her opponent yelled, shock tinged with pain, before she curled her fingers around their arm, used their own power to flip them over her. In an instant the sound of the crowd swelled, cheering rang in her ears.

Slowly, as Kate straightened up, she paid heed to the beat of her heart. She tried to shallow her breathing, to focus on the fire that ran through her blood after another fight. A small smile slipped onto her face as she offered out a hand to her felled enemy.

Markus shook his head, a grin easily spotted behind his thick beard. "You're a nightmare," he murmured, allowing her to help him up nonetheless.

"You just need more training," Kate teased, winking at him. "I'd offer to help, but..." Her voice trailed off. In the crowd, for just a moment, she thought she had seen the impressive figure of a face from her past. She shook the feeling free, knew that it wouldn't be possible. There was no point for him to be there, no conceivable reason that he would end up in the fight club where she worked.

"But then someone might actually beat you?" asked Markus, the lilt of amusement behind his voice bringing Kate back to the moment, back to the safety of the arena, to the fight that had just finished.

She shot him her best, charming smile. "Now that'd liven things up," she teased, gently nudging his arm with her shoulder. With a small nod she excused herself from the ring, her attention following the ghost as it slipped around the edge of the crowd, towards the door.

Despite the excitement that came with fights it seemed to ebb away as soon as the winner was announced, people ready to collect their wares or to pick their own fights when refused their due. As Kate snaked her way through the crowd she earned a few pats on the back, promises of drinks, the odd invitation to another fight another time. She caught snippets of conversations, though all of it blurred together, a din behind her focus. It simply couldn't really have been him that she saw, could it?

"I suppose more's coming. Worse than what we've already got."

"D'you hear about that attack on Fifth? Who'd do a thing like that?"

"I tell ya, all sorts are coming, and we'd best –"

She caught sight of the ever familiar flat cap as the ghost she'd been following ducked out of the club. She shimmied past someone, sidestepped under a waiter's tray, and found herself at the outer wall of the club in a matter of steps. Getting out had always required more footwork than her entire time in the ring, not that she was complaining.

Even as she reached the bottom of the stairwell she knew that it was him, taking two steps at a time, eager to find the cool evening air and escape the stale smell of alcohol. Kate's heart thundered against her chest as she jogged up the stairs, not sure how to feel.

The evening air hit her like a wall as soon as she was out the door. She regretted not having grabbed her jacket, but her focus was fully on the figure from her past, on drinking in every detail of the man that she had thought was part of a life she had left behind.

"Already got a bruise coming up," noted Chas simply, indicating to her cheek. The pain seemed to intensify at the mere mention of the right-hook that Markus had landed, but she bit it back, instead moved to pull him in for a tight hug, one that she was glad that he returned.

"What're you doing here?" she asked curiously, pulling away from him and cocking her head a little to one side.

Chas was quiet for a moment, his attention skimming the various wounds that she had already obtained from the club. "I could ask you the same," he finally said, an edge of almost judgement to the words. He let out a long breath, nodding slowly. "I thought you'd left fight clubs behind you."