Page 3 of The Awakening of Essensia

“Didn’t stop at first blood,” Freya muttered.

No one followed Rurik inside.

“Sent whoever it was straight to the San,” Vaelira said, her voice dropping low as she tracked Rurik’s hulking frame across the hall.

She had never spoken to Rurik, and all she knew about the man was that he was a brute. That, and his parents grew heartviolets for the chapels. The small plum-coloured flower had become a symbol of hope, the only plant to make it out of the Wastelands after the fire. That such a man would one day be responsible for safeguarding such a delicate thing…

Vaelira tore her piece of bread in two, her initial satisfaction at seeing his injuries souring on her tongue.

“Shame,” she said. “I was hoping he might lose for once.”

Freya glanced down at Vaelira, “You know, I think he’s the only person I wouldn’t want to be paired against.”

Vaelira groaned as her name was called. She shot Freya a glare and her friend held up her hands, grimacing.

The rain had finally let up, but thick mud clung to her boots as she pulled a short sword from the rack and turned towards her opponent.

Rurik stood on the opposite side of the training field, grinning from ear to ear.

Standing almost two heads taller than her and double the width in pure muscle, Rurik had the advantage. His lip had stopped bleeding, but the skin around his eye was a mottled mess of purple and blue. It didn’t seem to bother him.

Commander Lysander stood on the edge of the field, deep in conversation with one of the Royal Guards. His posture was stiff, as if he was purposefully avoiding her gaze.

Coward. She was outmatched, and he knew it.

Vaelira tilted her head up to the dull clouds that blanketed the sky, muttering a prayer to whatever gods still bothered to listen. This would not end well.

Rurik was still grinning, swinging his sword in lazy circles, the blade like a toy in his massive hands. He rolled his shoulders once and launched himself at her, not waiting for the Commander to call it.

He was quicker than she’d expected and she barely got her blade up in time, the force of the impact sliding her backwards through the mud.

Their swords broke apart, and he swung low.

She danced back, feeling the rush of air as the blade missed her ribs by mere inches.

She feinted left but he sidestepped her easily, ramming the pommel of his sword into her back.

Vaelira gasped, pain flaring down her spine. She raised her sword to meet his next blow and their blades locked, her arms straining against the force as his broad face leered menacingly over her, sweat beading on his temple.

She twisted, breaking the connection, and threw an elbow at his face. He was too damned tall. Rurik caught her arm and twisted painfully before hurling her down into the mud.

Laughter rippled through the watching crowd, sending heat flushing up Vaelira’s neck.

Someone shouted, but she couldn’t make out the words through the pounding in her ears. She scrambled up, wiping mud from her face with her sleeve, trying to claw the rage from her chest, but it was no use. Why had she been paired with someone she clearly never stood a chance against?

Rurik advanced. His blows were brutal, each impact rattling her bones. He swung again and again, forcing her back. He hit her thigh hard with the flat side of his blade.

The anger burned hotter. He was playing with her, putting on a show for the watching crowd, no doubt.

Vaelira’s legs trembled, and a rattling breath escaped through her lips. Another blow came, too fast this time. The blade tore through skin, the pain as biting as the coppery taste filling her mouth.

That wasn’t right. The blades weren’t meant to be sharp. Her hand went to the wound, her palm coming away bloodied. She cursed loudly.

A brutal kick to her ribs sent her hurtling backwards, the air rushing from her in an instant.

Her sword went flying. The world blurred. She coughed, wheezing for breath. The bastard had kicked her right where he’d just cut her.

Through her tears, she barely saw Rurik stalking towards her, blade raised high as it arced overhead.