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Nothing.
Even knowing that my abilities didn’t work here, I had still doubted that I wouldn’t be able to feel through the land. It was like I had lost one of my senses—I felt blind in a way. Stifled. As if a part of me was gone.
I glanced around at the trees, knowing that I needed to get to higher ground in order to get a bearing on my location, looking for low-hanging limbs to climb. No one knew where the Woltawa Forest was. Some thought that it was on one of the drift islands, but no one other than the contestants had ever seen it. It was massive, nearly half the size of some of the Nations on the continent.
I spotted a climbable-looking tree in the distance, up a small hill. Pulling out my bow and drawing an arrow from the quiver, I trekked my way through the underbrush of the forest.
The snapping of a limb had me whipping my head around, bow drawn taut with an arrow pointed in the direction of the sound. My eyes narrowed, looking for the source. After a few moments of not detecting any movement, I let out the breath and turned back to head towards the tree at the top of the hill, keeping my steps light and silent through the forest and my bow loosely drawn.
I heard another snap, and before I could turn around or raise my bow, something large and hard slammed into me from behind. Thrown flat on my stomach, I threw my elbow back into whatever had tackled me, a low growl rumbled behind me. I arched my back and flipped forward, causing the attacker to stumble off me. I quickly stood and drew my bow, now aimed at themalestanding a few steps away with his hand holding his bleeding nose.
I remembered him from the temple. He was one of the Gaol contestants with his nose, eyebrows, lips, cheeks and ears pierced with metal bars and rings. Dark brown eyes cut into me like my own daggers.
The sound of shuffling footsteps informed me that at least two others were quickly approaching. I didn’t turn to look at them. The male in front of me lowered his hand to display a wicked smile covered in blood.
“Mmm. I hate to see a pretty thing like you to go to waste.” He licked his bloody lip. “The things we could do to you if we only had the time.”
Then he lunged for me. I released my arrow but narrowly missed his shoulder just before he tackled me again. His large body crushing my legs, I couldn’t reach the daggers at my thighs. The two others rushed forward.
Feeling weak and disoriented, I tried to grab one of the daggers at my back, but two sets of hands grabbed my wrists and slammed them onto the ground. My bow became dislodged from my grip. The male on top of me shifted his body so that his knees pinned my thighs to either side. I thrashed, attempting to kick or hit, to free myself from their hold.
“Grab the blades,” one of the males holding my wrists said.
The other one tried to hold me down with one arm while reaching for my leg but I thrashed harder, forcing him to hold me with both hands to keep me immobile.
The male on top of me leaned down, his stubbled face hovered over mine and that wicked smile still on his arrogant pierced lips, as I scowled at him. His light brown hair hung down past his chin, tickling my cheeks. I continued to thrash as they tightened their grip on my wrists and moved my arms above my head. The male on top of me reached to my thigh, pulled out my dagger, and held it to my throat.
“Nothing personal. Just increasing our chances of being chosen,” he sneered.
He was wrong. The Gods didn’t choose based on who was left. Even if only one contestant completed the Trial, the Gods could still find them unworthy and choose no one at all.
I felt the blade press against my neck and my body tensed as I squeezed my eyes shut. I silently prayed to the Gods as tears welled beneath my lids.
This can’t be happening. I can’t die this soon. I’m not done yet. I’m not done yet!
I gasped as I felt warm blood spray over my face. I cracked my eyes open to see a sword protruding from the chest of the male straddling me, the tip grazing my breast with each panicked breath. A scream caught in my throat, and for a moment I was frozen in place.
The two other males let go of my wrists and drew their swords. I heard the clashing of metal a moment later. I shook away the shock and shoved the male off me, and he slumped to the ground, the blade still embedded in his chest.
Another male was fighting against the two that had held me. I ripped my dagger from the injured male next to me and the other from my thigh, and immediately jumped to my feet when one of the males came at me with a crazed look in his eye. He wasn’t very large, but he was fast. I ducked at the last second, avoiding the slash for my throat, and pushed my body toward him. He grabbed my arm with one hand as I aimed my dagger for his chest. I released the blade and grabbed the arm that was holding me, locking them together, and pulled him toward me so that our chests were touching.
At this proximity, he had to take the time to stretch his other arm out so his sword could extend far enough to reach me. While it was only a fraction of a second, that was just enough of a delay for me to reach around and stab him in the back, right where his kidneys were.
Always go for the vitals.
He howled, and his sword arm jerked back. I let go of the dagger, but he still had a firm grip on my other arm. I twisted my body around behind him, contorting his arm into an unfavorable position as I yanked and dislocated his shoulder to break his hold. He didn’t have time to scream before I extracted my blade from his back and slit his throat.
The male dropped his sword and grabbed his neck as the blood gushed from the wound. I planted my booted foot between his shoulder blades and he fell forward. Our bodies didn’t heal as quickly here. I turned around and left him to bleed out on the forest floor.
The fourth male, who had stabbed the one on top of me, had effectively taken out the third male and was standing right infront of me. I recognized him as having jumped into the Rip right before me. He was shirtless, a head taller than me, and his impressively muscled body was covered in tattoos from the base of his neck all the way down his torso—most likely an Orynian. He had dark brown hair that came to the bottom of his ears, his honey-colored skin that contrasted his light blue eyes.
He opened his mouth to speak but I kicked him at his torso, which felt solid beneath my boot, and caused him to stumble back with a grunt. Regardless of having helped me, he was still a threat. I lunged for him with my dagger out to my side. His eyes widened, his sword fell, and he raised his palms up in submission. I stopped, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
“Easy now. I don’t intend to harm you,” he said slowly, as if I would spook.
I wasn’t buying it.
He went to take a step, but I crouched down and spun, kicking his unbalanced legs out from underneath him. He hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of him. I was on top of him before he could cough out a wheeze, the tip of my blade underneath his chin as I straddled his muscular torso. My heart raced as I reveled in the adrenaline.
