Chapter Ten #2
“Pick a weapon,” he said, nodding towards the racks lining the courtyard.
I hesitated, my gaze flitting over the options.
Swords of varied lengths, daggers with carved hilts, wooden spears, whips with razor tips, and a few spiked clubs.
They all looked sharp enough to cut my fingers off.
My eyes dropped to a bow, but I thought better of it.
I’d never handled one before, and learning would take too much time, which was something I didn’t have much of.
“I’ll wait,” Leander said, folding his arms across his chest, as his foot tapped the sandstone ground.
Insufferable. That’s what he was. I grabbed a short sword, less arresting than the others, but still sharp and dignified. Its hilt was cool and light. It wasn’t as heavy as I expected, but the blade felt foreign.
“Good choice,” he said, stepping towards me. “Let’s see what you can do.”
He didn’t draw a weapon himself, which made me more uneasy.
“You’re not going to fight me?” I asked, raising the sword awkwardly.
“Not with a sword,” he said, his tone teasing. “First, I want to see how you handle your weapon.”
Before I could respond, he darted forward, his movements quick and fluid. I barely had time to lift the sword before his hand shot out, tapping the flat side of the blade. It slipped from my grasp, clattering to the ground.
“Too slow,” he said, stepping back.
I scowled, grabbing the sword again and gripping it tighter this time. “I wasn’t ready.”
“You think demons will wait for you to prepare?”
Heat rose to my cheeks, but I didn’t back down. “Fine. Try again.”
I held my ground, adjusting my stance. When Leander moved, I swung the sword – not gracefully, but enough to keep him at bay.
“Better,” he said, his tone almost approving. “But you’ll need more than brute force. Use your head. It’s about strategy. Manipulation. Knowing when to push and when to pull back.”
He lunged again, and I dodged clumsily, the sword feeling heavier. My breath came in sharp gasps, my muscles straining as I tried to keep up with him.
Leander didn’t stop, circling me with solid, frightening strides. “You’ve got potential,” he said, his voice softer now.
I swung again, this time feinting to the right before pivoting left. He dodged effortlessly but gave a slight nod of approval.
“That’s more like it,” he said, stepping back. “Though you’ve still got a long way to go.”
Warmth stirred in my chest at his approval. He was pleased with my progress, and I hated how much I liked that. For a moment, I almost thought I could trust him. But trust wasn’t something that came easily in this forsaken place. It was a dangerous luxury, and I could never forget that.
I lowered the sword, my arms trembling. “Time isn’t exactly on my side.”
Leander’s smirk didn’t waver. He stepped closer until he was a pace away. “No, it’s not. But rushing will only get you obliterated faster.”
I bristled, gripping the hilt of the sword tightly. “So, our souls really can be destroyed here?” I breathed.
He nodded.
“I don’t think I have the luxury of patience then,” I shot back.
“Surviving and winning are different things,” he said, his tone soft but pointed.
His words struck harder than I cared to admit, but I refused to let it show. “Why is everyone so bloody cryptic? Just tell me how to win this damn Cycle,” I challenged, meeting his gaze.
Leander gave a low chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck as though debating how much to say. “Temptation isn’t exactly the domain for clarity. But here’s your first real lesson – Hell isn’t won with brute force. It’s won by knowing when to give and when to take.”
I frowned, trying to understand his meaning.
He arched his brow. “This domain tests what you’re willing to lose. People don’t fail here because they’re weak. They fail because they don’t know themselves well enough to see when they’re being played.”
“Maybe the Demon of Temptation can tell me,” I said dryly.
Leander tilted his head, his cobalt eyes narrowing as though measuring my resolve. “What makes you think he’ll be willing to help you?”
“Because I’m his Champion.”
“Maybe that doesn’t matter to him.”
I shrugged. “I don’t like to lose.”
“You need to be a better fighter if you want a shot at winning.”
I rubbed my head.
“We’ll continue training tomorrow.”
“I’m not using a sword again,” I said. “I can’t move quickly enough with this thing.”
“We’ll try you with twin daggers. They’re smaller, so you can run more easily.”
I nodded.
“Leander?”
“Yes, little Champion?”
“What exactly is The Cycle? I mean, why go through the effort of having souls compete and earn relics from every domain? I don’t understand.”
“That’s not a question I can answer,” he sighed.
“Why haven’t I met the demon yet? Is he ghastly?”
Leander let out a cackle. “He turns up when he wants to.”
“He killed me, didn’t he?” I breathed. “He’s the one who brought me here, and now he can’t even face me.”
“You’ll have to ask him. Now, let’s go again.” Leander circled me like a cat sizing up a mouse. The subject change was swift, but I accepted that I’d not learn anything more about The Cycle today. I’d have to question somebody else.
My grip tightened on the sword’s hilt, my knuckles aching from the effort to keep it steady.
“You know,” he said, “it’s not just about the sword. Half the fight is in how you move. And right now, that skirt makes you about as graceful as a goat on ice.”
I scowled at him.
He flicked his finger at my clothing, his tone light but pointed. “They’re slowing you down. You’ll need combat leathers that you can actually move in.”
I groaned, letting the tip of the sword dip. “I have some,” I muttered reluctantly.
“Then why are you still wearing tattered, heavy clothes while you venture through Hell?”
“Because I don’t want them. They just . . . showed up,” I said, practically dripping with disdain.
“You turn your nose up at a gift? That’s not how manners work, little Champion.”
“They’re from the Demon of Temptation, and I don’t want them,” I said with a shrug.
Leander’s lips curved into a smirk, his expression impossible to read. “I’d say that’s quite thoughtful of him.”
“He can keep his bloody clothes,” I snapped, my voice rising. “I don’t want anything from him. Not now, not ever.”
Leander’s smirk only grew, his amusement evident. “Trust me, those leathers will come in handy.”
I can’t wear fighting leathers because everyone will see my leg brace and think I’m weak . . .
I lifted the sword again, ignoring the ache in my arms. “I’m fine as I am. Let’s go again.”
We fought again and again, clashing swords and dodging hits. After a few hours, the training had drained every ounce of energy from me. My muscles ached, my arms throbbed, and sweat and dust clung to my skin.
By the time I reached my chambers, I was ready to collapse. I pushed the door open and stumbled towards the bed, but found something waiting for me.
A delicate dress with a sweetheart neckline lay across the bed.
The off-the-shoulder sleeves were sheer and made of lilac tulle, and the skirt flowed in layered panels, shifting from deep purple at the bodice to pale lavender at the hem.
The fabric was soft, weightless, and made for a different world than this one.
A dress meant for a ballroom, not for a Champion in Hell.
And beside it, on my pillow, was an envelope. Inside was an invitation:
The Demon of Temptation requests your presence at tonight’s feast.
My stomach twisted, not from hunger but something far more bitter.
Finally, I’d meet the demon who brought me here.
The one who killed me. But it also meant I had to socialise.
I didn’t know what a grand feast in Hell was like.
A large gathering, or was it a night of torment?
All I knew was that I did not understand what I was in for and had to swallow my fear of large crowds.
I pushed the thoughts aside. If I were to face the Demon of Temptation, I wouldn’t do it covered in sweat and grime. I turned to the bathroom, where a large stone tub sat in the centre.
I turned the iron handle, and steaming water poured into the tub.
My muscles ached, but nothing that a hot bath couldn’t cure.
The room rapidly fogged, and I stripped off, letting the heavy fabric of my tattered skirt pool at my feet.
I unstrapped my leg brace last, and dropped it into the sink.
Then I stepped into the tub, the heat stinging before it settled into something blissful, pulling the aches from my body.
I rested my head against the edge, exhaling slowly.
The moment of peace was brief.
The creaking of my chamber doors made my eyes go wide, and my entire body went rigid. I didn’t move, listening as boots clinked against the marble floor. They were light, but I knew better than to mistake them for harmless. A shadowy figure appeared at the bathroom entrance.
With her arms crossed, Elise was smirking and leaning against the doorframe.
“What are you doing here?” I snapped.
Elise dragged a gloved finger along the door’s wooden frame, feigning nonchalance. “Just a friendly visit.”
I sat up, gripping the edge of the tub, my eyes locked on her. “Get out.”
Her smirk widened. “Touched a nerve, did I?” She took a slow step closer, her boots tapping against the stone floor. “I don’t like repeating myself, so I’ll make this simple: stay away from Leander.”
I clenched my fists under the water. “I don’t answer to anyone, least of all you.”
Elise’s gaze darkened. “That’s where you’re wrong.
You don’t know how things work here yet.
I do. And I’m telling you to keep your distance for your own good.
” She crouched beside the tub, her voice dropping to something lower, sharper.
“You might have survived Fear, but that doesn’t mean you’ll survive Temptation.
” She straightened, turned and strode out.
I exhaled sharply, tension rolling off me in waves.
I waited until I heard the doors shut before standing, water dripping from my skin as I stepped onto the cool stone floor. Reaching for the towel nearby, I rubbed the damp from my arms, my thoughts still on Elise.
And then I saw it.
My dress, meant for the feast, was in a heap on the bed. It was torn to ribbons.
A cold rage settled into my chest.
Let her play her games.
I would face the Demon of Temptation tonight without the dress he’d chosen for me. I had something even better in mind.
And Elise?
She’d regret thinking I was so easily broken.