In a world of magic and dragons, there was chaos until seven nations rose. They kept the world peaceful and in turn, the gods gave each of the leading families a gift. They called it the heirlooms, due to it being passed down through generations.
Wh...
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She grinned savagely down at the man kneeling in front of her, raising her arm in victory, blood dripping from the dagger at the end of it. She loved the thrill that the fight gave her, and she loved when she took out a cocky one even more.
This particular man had irked her, and so had payed the price, in blood and sweat.
"Just a girl, am I?" She spoke softly, with a deadly edge to her voice, immediately causing the man to regret his earlier words to her before the fight. She knelt down and left one more slash along his arm- The crowd went wild. She stood once more, wiping her dagger on her cloak and sliding its blade into a beautifully decorated sheathe, another product of her winnings.
The crowd roared as she made her way over to the man at the edge of the money, holding a bag of coins- waiting for her. She readjusted her cloak and then proceeded to stalk over to the man, shaking a few of the patrons' hands as she went, after all, they were the ones who payed for her to fight in the pit.
"Another win then, Blondie." The man holding the bag drawled, she smiled, nodding slightly before taking the bag. She pulled it open and counted the coins mentally- ever since they tried to get away with giving her an empty bag, she had begun to check for her money after every fight. It was a sure fact though that she was hard to trick, and even harder to convince to show mercy. That had been evident when they had found the men who had tried to trick her unconscious in an alley, their pockets empty and their arms slashed, her signature calling card.
She swaggered once more around the circular pit of sand, soaking in the praise and glee of the crowd- a victory lap of sorts- finishing at an archway. With a final wave of goodbye and a curse aimed at the man now receiving medical help, she walked through.
The victor's walkway was beautiful in her opinion. Large torches bathed the wide corridor in light and a plush carpet decorated its stone floor, courtesy of her demands. She made her way to a door on her left, the entryway to the women's baths and walked through, pushing the heavy door. She greeted the only other woman in the room, Malia, before starting to strip her armour, replacing it with a light silk robe and walked over to the heated pool in the centre of the room. She stood at the edge for a moment before letting the robe fall and stepping in, instantly sinking into the welcome embrace of the water.
The pair of girls sat in silence for a moment before Malia spoke with her rough voice, perfected over years of working in the guard,
"Another win, Leonah, what did you win this time?"
The elder woman's head tilted in curiosity, waiting for the teen to reply, her fiery hair falling to just below her shoulders.
"A hefty sum, and that's all anyone needs to know," No-one understood why the girl was so secretive, but they all just accepted it.
"So, how is the you know what coming along? Any new developments?"
Malia was the only one who knew of Leonah's abilities, and that was the way she hoped it would stay. She had found out when they were bathing after a long string of victories and Malia had spied a strange mark on the back of Leonah's neck, right at the bottom. It appeared to be written in a foreign language and was a combination of swirling lines and sweeping curves. Since that day, Leonah had made sure it was covered at all times, whether it be by a scarf, a dress or her hair.
"No, none at all, it's acting as usual." They kept their conversations as brief as possible in case someone was listening in on them, it wasn't unheard of for audience members to try and sneak into the victors corridor for a small token, usually a small piece of the fabric of their clothing.
"Good, I'm glad, but you must be careful, the guards have been put on high alert, looking for the owner of the magic." Malia worked in the royal guard, which meant that she was able to ensure that Leonah knew where to avoid whilst they were looking for the owner of the heirloom. She knew that if she were to be found, it would mean almost certain death for her- and, surprisingly, she did not want that, believe it or not.
The pair sat in silence for another while, until they eventually stood and began to redress themselves, Leonah this time dressing in a long gown of the darkest blue. She had bought it merely a week or so ago and had waited for a suitable time to wear it. Leonah particularly loved this gown because of the golden threads which lined the edges, and how easy it was to conceal a blade underneath. She hoped that with tonight's winnings she would be able to buy another piece of clothing like this.
She slipped her cloak over her shoulders, careful to make sure that the gown was still visible, she had not had it made to be hidden under a cloak- no, she had it made so that it could be shown off as the piece of art it was.
With a quick farewell to Malia, and a check to ensure that she still had all of her winnings with her, she left the heat and the stench of the pits behind her as she stepped into the sea air of the night. As her feet, still in her boots made their way over the cobbles, she took a moment to briefly look up at the sky, searching for her mother's star looking down at her.
Her mother had died during childbirth and Leonah instead had been raised by nanny after nanny, rarely seeing her father who always was conveniently at work or on a voyage when she was at home. Even as a child, she had known that these were merely excuses to not have to gaze upon the face of his wife's mirror image, and to this day, the man still used those excuses, only seeing his child for mere moments at a time- it was what made it so easy to sneak to the pits.
By the time she reached the coast, her hair had fallen from its loose braid and had come to settle just below her shoulders, some shorter bits brushing over her turquoise eyes. She made her way down the row of houses that faced the ports below until she came to a large building-opposite a merchant's ship- which towered in front of her.
In front of her stood the doorway through which she had chased a long line of women from, each one screaming about her being the spawn of the devil and how they would never come back to take care of another child from that family. She had chased a total of nearly two dozen away until Haneda had arrived, taming the wild girl almost immediately.
She walked through said door, immediately feeling the absence of Haneda, like she had since the woman had died, causing the girl to begin in the pits, quickly climbing the ranks and swiftly becoming one of the best fighters in the place, perhaps even the capital.
Her steps echoed throughout the empty hall, the darkness surrounding her as she climbed the stairs. It was a tastefully decorated place, she would give it that, but it had never been her home. No, her home had always been as close to the dragons as she could get. She had no idea why they soothed her so much, but they did, and Haneda had taken her as close as the pair could get nearly every day without fail.
As she passed her father's room, the door was open and the bed was still made, he was out again. Her heart sank, secretly, every time she left, she hoped that she would walk past her father's room and he would be up, waiting for her, but he never was. She did not even know why she bothered hoping that he would notice, deep-down she knew he never would.
She made her way through her bedroom door and swiftly collapsed onto her bed, dropping her cloak and weaponry on the way, letting out an oof as she flopped down and fell into a dreamless sleep.
