Chapter 3 #2
It was hell watching him grow weaker. He became a skeleton wrapped in a thin layer of skin; his hair turned grey in a matter of weeks as he lost his appetite.
Watching him waste away was the hardest part; not being able to do anything to fix it.
Once again, I felt powerless. His once bright smile faded from his face until nothing could make him smile anymore.
He once told me that he welcomed death to ease the pain and loss of his abilities.
I held his hand the night he passed, drowning on the black bile of the Rak filling his lungs.
I will never forget the sound of his breathing—the death rattle, they called it.
It was so loud that the sound filled every inch of his large room.
The pauses between his breaths got longer and longer.
I never knew if it would be his last, not until he finally stopped gasping for air.
I held him until his body turned cold and only silence filled the room.
The most confusing part was that, although I would have done anything to hold onto him, I held so much resentment towards him.
He had beat me bloody most days in an attempt to strengthen me, to prepare me for this world.
I stopped crying long ago because, when I was a child, my tears only made him angrier, more violent.
But I was so sick and utterly desperate for love, I still loved him through it all and pined for him to tell me he was proud of me.
Oddly my father had been my best friend, my confidant and my grounding force in this world, even if our relationship had been turbulent at best. Losing him felt like I had lost my grip on reality.
The moment he took his last breath and I laid my ear to his chest, looking for a heartbeat and hearing nothing, is what truly made me unhinged and ripe with anger.
That was when I felt my sanity spill out of me, never to be truly reclaimed again.
That now familiar black, acrid smoke leached out of me, filling my vision and senses once again as every space around me was consumed until it exploded into nothing.
Vivianna now stood there, power radiating off of her.
That is exactly why I chose her as my Master of War; her presence was commanding.
Her sense of justice and integrity could never be questioned.
Throughout our years at the Academy, she was the only one to best me in our war tactics and battle strategy classes.
She lived and breathed the art of war, balancing being just with mercilessness in a way I never had.
I veered too far into the merciless category.
Before graduating, she challenged me to a duel.
Having never lost a fight—not even in a sparring session—I was unfazed.
The terms were simple: if she won, she would earn a place by my side when I took the throne.
Just as much as she was fighting to earn her keep, I was fighting to earn her loyalty.
The Academy’s rules of the duel were straightforward—we could not use our gifts or weapons.
It was hand-to-hand combat, and the first person to be rendered unconscious or deemed unfit to continue would lose.
I remembered standing at the edge of the arena, kicking up clay and dust while I waited for her to shake out the tightness in her muscles as the nerves set in.
It would, however, earn zero sympathy from me.
The war drums started slowly, indicating that the duels would begin shortly.
All of our peers clambered to their seats, not wanting to miss a moment of this spectacle.
Duels between friends were rare on these grounds.
The drums peaked, creating such tension in the air that I could taste it.
The second that silence descended over the arena—the drums now quiet—the duel began.
Viv started towards me without a lick of hesitation, delivering a flurry of blows that I only just managed to sidestep.
Where she was forceful, I was agile. I didn’t raise a hand in the first half of the fight; instead, I focused on dodging each onslaught, at times rolling or sliding out from underneath a kick or strike.
I watched her become frustrated and tired as she couldn’t land a single blow.
It consumed more energy to miss than it did to make an impact.
After five minutes of toying with her like this, she tried to change her tactics.
Crouching low, she attempted a tackle; it was a futile effort that left me smirking down at her as she lay sprawled on the ground, covered in dirt.
Standing, she stared me down and spat at my feet.
She was fuming at her lack of progress, and if there was one thing I knew, it was that the battle was just as much about the mind as it was about the physical attacks.
Tilting my head, I took in every detail of her stance, knowing exactly what was to come, but I didn’t care.
Instead of countering, I planted my feet firmly on the ground and took the hit.
The force of every single muscle of hers slammed into me, but I didn’t give an inch.
My strength was quieter, and my frame was often misleading.
I could see the shock on her face; she was sure she would have pinned me to the floor, but instead, she found herself pushing against an impenetrable wall of stone.
In all my years at the Academy, I had never sparred with Viv seriously.
In class, we were often paired with our enemies to provide an outlet and hone our skills while learning their strengths and weaknesses.
She had watched me time and time again, but reality was always different from when you were on the outside looking in, and she had never had reason to doubt what she was capable of.
But it was my turn now and the thrill as I dropped my stance lower and threw Viv’s arms off forcing her to double back was intoxicating.
I loved the hum of pure power that came with dominating someone in a fight.
Not giving her any space, I threw my elbow into her nose, blood spraying the ground.
Instantly my other hand wrapped around her neck as my leg tucked behind her knee and I slammed her into the ground with so much force her vision clouded as a concussion rang in her head.
Blinking, she tried to clear her daze as she drew her knee into my ribcage.
Gritting my teeth as she made impact, I refused to react.
She was strong; she had broken at least two ribs, but I would not gasp for air.
This was not only about winning the duel, her respect, and in turn her loyalty; it was also about my reputation in the eyes of every single person who sat in this arena, especially my enemies.
I tightened my grip on her throat as she clawed at my arm but realising that wasn’t going to move me, she wrapped her hand in my long hair and pulled with all the force she had.
In seconds the power had shifted and I was now under her, pinned to the ground.
She felt triumphant but all I saw was determination in her eyes.
The students of the Academy who had previously been cheering fell silent in shock.
No one in my history at the Academy had ever landed me on my back, but it wouldn’t last long.
Smiling up at her, I drew my head back and slammed it into her face. The crack of her jaw was piercing.
Using her reeling shock to my advantage, I stood while she feebly tried to pull herself up.
Not giving her a single inch this time, I drove my boot into the side of her head with so much force that her body flung right back into the clay ground of the arena as dust flew up in every direction.
The predator in me circled, allowing her to get on her knees.
Regretting that choice instantly, she caught my ankle as it flew towards her a second time, pulling it towards her sharply I lost my footing and sank to my knees.
Immediately, she landed a punch to my stomach.
I gritted my teeth through the winded cough that threatened to escape me.
I took in Demir’s open mouth out of the corner of my eye, and anger erupted inside of me.
I would not be made to look like a fool in front of those that should only ever see strength from me.
His face turned into that familiar smug smile and it was the final match to the flames of rage that boiled inside of me.
I had always filed my nails into talons and right now I would use everything to my advantage, sinking them into her forearm as she lashed out at me.
A painful shriek pierced the arena. I pressed them deeper slicing her flesh as though it were made of water, melting through my fingers.
Blood pooled on the floor at such a rapid rate she would surely lose consciousness soon having cut into something vital.
Then I pulled her down and right into my other elbow, connecting with her chin her head flung back as she blacked out on the floor.