CHAPTER 8 #3
Thankfully, the next part we had prepared for. I moved to Kahvrah’s side and fixed my gaze on Dane, breathing deeply and remaining silent.
Dane’s lip quirked as he let the moment stretch.
At last, he called out, “Serae, do you come before us in the name of truth?”
“I do.”
“Have you prepared your body and mind in the ways of the Riht?”
“I have.”
“Speak your truths.”
This was the defining moment. I knew when I pledged these next words, in the eyes of the Riht, there was no turning back.
My presence in their city, among their people, meant nothing before now.
A part of me wondered if my father had prepared for how seriously they took this oath.
I didn’t want to think about what they did to traitors.
“High Dane Auldren, people of the Riht, I stand before you honoring my past as I step away from it. Tomorrow and every day of my life to follow, I will devote myself as a member of the Riht—holding the strength of one as the strength of all, the wisdom of one as the wisdom of many, and the pain of one as the pain of any. I pledge these words under the high sun for all to see their truth.” My heart constricted, not knowing whether I meant it.
Dane raised both hands and called out, “May your actions follow!”
By some Jaedan miracle, the crowd began to cheer.
They had accepted my pledge. But that was the easy part.
Next came the actual trial. Despite our constant practice and Kahvrah’s approval, my nerves jittered.
But, a glimmer of hope shone through. The crowd continued cheering—for me.
I turned to Kahvrah, allowing a slight smile to creep over my face.
Kahvrah, however, was grim as she turned and walked several paces away, giving me and the challenger a wide berth.
She nodded once, a sharp gesture meant for me.
My signal to fall into stance and wait for the order to begin.
I closed my eyes, drew a breath, counted to three, and on my next exhale, I allowed my body to move—one foot behind the other, arms at the ready, core tight. It came to me easily now, thank the Creator. I paused at the end of my exhale, let my face relax, and opened my eyes with my next breath.
I stared straight into the hateful face of my challenger.
My body echoed with her last gift of cracked ribs and a shattered nose.
I still didn’t know the woman’s name, but I knew her sneer all too well.
Her mocking, hissing voice invaded my mind.
Pathetic. Weak. Ignorant. The words did not need to be spoken again—they were written plainly on her face.
She stood in a matching stance, openly appraising me.
Her sneer morphed into a sharp, dark smile.
I was going to die.
My breath hitched, and my muscles clenched. Without moving, I broke into a full-body sweat.
“Begin,” Kahvrah commanded, quiet and steady.
I hesitated. The first movement was mine. The challenger’s were meant to be a complement to my own, provided that I got it right to begin with.
“Begin,” Kahvrah repeated in the exact same tone.
My challenger snickered.
I breathed and began to move. I swept each of my limbs in clear, wide arcs.
A half second later, the challenger did the same.
These first movements established our distance and opened the dance.
I lunged in with both fists, then retreated as the challenger mirrored.
I spun and kicked forward, angling left, and the challenger’s foot flew past me on my right.
The dance continued, testing our accuracy and fluidity.
Then, the moment of stillness came—the eye of the storm, as I thought of it.
I collected my arms together, almost in prayer, for five blissful heartbeats.
The moment ended with a series of jabs, arcing punches, and rolling turns.
I was a flurry of movement. Sweat dripped down my brow, but I clung to my inner calm.
I kept my mind in a loose, unfocused state, and I ignored the surrounding crowd, made easy by the fact that they were pin-drop silent.
My body moved entirely on muscle memory.
In a rare moment of clarity, I saw the end approaching, and I smiled. Success was in sight, mere seconds away. I had done it!
The finale of kicks began, and I braced myself on my dominant leg while initiating the first of several triple-kick combos.
Despite the speed of each movement, I was flooded with peace.
My eyes drifted to my opponent, as they always did in practice, searching for that familiar smirk Kahvrah always gave when the final bow was nearing.
But there was no smile. My challenger’s face was screwed up in concentration, or perhaps anger, or more likely, disgust. I jumped, then ducked low for a sweeping kick.
A moment out of sync, the challenger jumped to avoid my leg, then mirrored the low kick.
I led the next movement, spinning to the side to create room, but something was off.
The challenger should have been to my left, but instead, she was right before me.
Had I mistimed my jump? Or missed a step, or maybe misjudged the turn?
It didn’t matter. My challenger’s kick swept me off my feet. I crashed down hard onto my back.
Stay down, said a voice in my head, but instinct had long since taken over.
I popped my head up to see where I’d landed.
My challenger kicked out again, and her shin collided with the side of my head.
Pain exploded through my jaw, temple, and nose.
A sickening crunch split my skull, and I collapsed flat on the ground.
Red flooded my vision. I clung to the edge of consciousness.
Dane yelled something that may have been, “Enough!”
Someone was above me. Through the red, I saw a pair of eyes dark with fear. Fear of what? “I told you to stay down,” a voice hissed.
I’ve never been a good listener, I tried to say, but the words wouldn’t leave my mouth as the red turned to black.