The night darkened fast here and sadly also became colder. Cha-el snuck out to the horses from the stone hut and fitted into his woolly trench coat. He got a slight whiff of it as he shrugged it onto his shoulders and all he could say was that it smelt like home. Or like him. Those scents were almost the same in essence. His barrack which he shared with 11 other guards had always smelled of sweat, but it didn't smell of home in the same way that this did. Maybe because back in the barracks it wasn't just his sweat, but it was a whole jumble of others smells mixed together. It would be a lie to say he didn't miss the barracks, but it had never been truly home. Though it had become a close substitute.

Sash was a few paces away sitting on the doorstep of the gaping entrance. Cha-el didn't know how the whacko or The White Rose had managed to fall asleep with all of the cold air flowing in but somehow, they had. "Bring me mine." Sash ordered. "Get it yourself" Was all he managed to say back. He was starting to have enough of her shit attitude. Sash did get it herself, but she did it reluctantly. "Who do you think that shithead is?"

"Who?" Was all she answered, but Cha-el was pretty sure she just did it to get on his nerves.

"The step-brother."

"I'd guess he's a stepbrother as an answer to your question."

"You know what I meant." He said, frustrated.

"I like the word shithead better."

She was in a snappy yet chatty mood that wasn't too attractive to converse with. She buttoned her coat up all the way to the neck and then started fiddling with her scythe by folding it out and rubbing out its dark spots (blood or dirt, he couldn’t tell). The locals, that walked past, who could see them with the light from their lanterns, looked frightened at the sight of the sharp and deadly weapon. It made sense in Cha-el's mind, for this seemed like a very peaceful town and nation despite being wedged between two powerful giant nations. But then again there wasn’t really anything here that they would want except jagged mountains and cold nights.

"Put that away. It scares people." Cha-el said to Sash.

"Not as much as you do." She didn't make eye-contact but he could tell she was insulting him.

"Name three people I've scared."

"Lamati, Castu and Troita."

"Who are they?"

"Are you bored? You're drilling me like an army scout would."

"Just bored. And your shithead talk makes me at least focus on something other than where we're heading. So ... Who are they?"

"Lamati, Catsu and Troita?" Sash asked. Cha-el nodded a response. "Just scaredy cats from the barracks. They would be scared of anybody with a darker shade of orange."

"How many did you share your barrack with?"

"Fifteen"

"Did you have your own beds and rooms?"

"No" A cold and angry tone of voice.

"Explain then."

"We slept in low roofed bunks. Three in each bunk. Fifteen in the whole room. Eighty-five on the whole floor. The floor beneath us had seven more."

"Rooms or people?"

"People, luckily."

"Has it ever collapsed? Once happened on the floor beneath me when I was there. Four casualties."

“Bet that was long ago.”

“Ha-ha” Cha-el faked an obivous laughter. “Has it collapsed, was the question.”

"No. I’m lucky once again." She had found a stone with a flat side and had started to use it as a whetstone. Sometimes sparks would appear if she did it too carelessly.

After that a stiff silence came between them, only interrupted by the sharp squealing sound that her scythe made every time the whetstone was dragged along its blade.

"That's made of worse metal than mine." Cha-el informed nosily.

"They all are. In the foot soldier rank quantity over ranks quality if you haven’t forgotten, oh superior guard." She said mockingly. It annoyed him and the moment of sharing barrack stories was over. Not that it had been more than a yes and no game with this rude wrench.

"Can you sharpen mine? Any more on that and it will start glowing red."

"No."

"Fucking bonehead"

"Fucking princess. Do you want me to polish your toenails while I'm at it?" She was angry and sparking fury. Now she was making eye contact and was sharpening her scythe with sharp agressive motions.

"Shut your mouth. Do you even know what a bath is?" He was taunting her now. Forcing her off the edge.

Slightly more composed, she retorted "Oh, please not like you'd ever done one before you sucked up to authority."

"Swine." Cha-el spat at her. "No wonder you're down there sweating in the foot soldier pigsty."

"Don't act like you're better than me." She spat back.

"I am. I managed to make it out of there in the course of a year." The last two words were articulated slowly and played on his tongue. "How old are you?"

"None of your business." She was basically smoking now.

"Ouch soft spot, huh? Well, get used to it 'cuz you ain't making it out and I can see that very clearly from where I stand" He was passive-aggressively whispering towards her. "ABOVE YOU."

She fumed. "OK, that's it! You said you were bored, so let's do something more entertaining for your bottlehead." She taunted standing up. Her breathing had quickened and Cha-el felt his heartbeat do the same. He was angry at this bitch. Who acted like she was the boss. Who acted like she knew what to do. Who acted like she was equal to The White Rose and like she was better than him. And worst of all WHO ACTED LIKE SHE HAD POWER OVER HIM. She doesn't. And he might as well prove it now. He was the stronger one here. He was dominant, not this white twit.

"We'll do this barrack style if you can handle it, ribbons and pearls? Or have you forgotten it along with how to use your scythe."

"Bring it on, Mabuno." At the mention of the slur her face turned an ugly shade of red. "Though not here. There's a stone space out back. Let's take it there, princess."

"Fuck you" Was all he managed to respond, without lashing out.

She didn't spare him a look and walked onto the dust/dirt street. Cha-el knew the place she was talking about, so he kept his eyes on his (superior) scythe clenched that he clenched his strained hand.

He was angry and he wasn't going to hide it. Some part inside of him said it was pent up frustration overflowing, but he knew that it was the need to prove this foot soldier shitbag wrong. It was his duty as her higher-ranking officer, he thought and laughed internally at. He knew it couldn't last more than 50 seconds. She was a foot soldier and a pathetic one at that. Weak and useless. He had been the only one doing work here, and she had been riding the easy train all this time. No longer. His fingers creaked around the leather handle of the scythe.

Her scythe was held loosely, the bladed end an inch above the stone ground. It was some weird, circled stone platform with a ring of pointy tall boulders circling it that they were standing in. Cha-el could make out some carved intersecting lines on the ground, but that wasn't on his mind. He felt cold, angry rigor pulsing deep inside of him. It rose up to his throat, threatening to come out as bile or something worse but he pushed it down. Ice flowed through his veins again and the sharp feeling of attentiveness pricked at his consciousness. He wanted to win. He wanted to prove her wrong.

"Come on then ribbons and pearl--" He made the first move, catching her off guard, the flat side aimed at her open left side. She dodged by jumping high above it and spiralling the sharp small, pointed end of her scythe against his chest in fast precision. Cha-el slid left and avoided it but barely. It ripped open a great tear in his tunic which made his instincts come to life. He lashed out with his scythe and aimed a strike towards her neck, but she parried it forcefully and jumped behind him. She used her flat side to hit his calve and swirled around to cut open his shoulder with the pointy end in the course of a second. He retreated a few steps before lunging back, pointy end first and twirling the scythe mid-advancement to make a feint. He wouldn't miss.

But he did. Faster than he could grasp, she ducked forwards, dodging his strike, scythe in hand and tried to hit him in the armpit with the squared end. She managed and hot, angry pain seared up his shoulder. He mumbled a small curse and moved out of her reach. His scythe was held weakly in one hand and before he realised it was his weakness, she advanced and tried to sweep it out his hand with the curved blade of her scythe. She managed and halfway to the ground he managed to catch it with the hurting arm, but he fought past the numbing pain. He tried to do a feint pretending that that she had the advantage, but she saw through it and went for his right leg instead, trying to sweep him off the ground. Cha-el moved just in time and tried to land a hit with the scythe bar against her head but she ducked quickly. He took advantage of her crouched form and tried to sweep her off her feet, but he put in too little strength in the motion, and it ended up doing nothing but leaving him in another vulnerable position. She lunged and advanced again and again and again without taking a second’s rest nor leaving any weaknesses that he could take advantage of. All he managed to do was parry and block clumsily. She had forced him into a dead end, with his back against one of the big stones. She took a deep breath and momentarily loosened her stance while clashing her scythe against his to break his blocking. It was all Cha-el needed and he used the moment to abandon his blocking and hit the low inside of her ankle. She jumped in what seemed like a pain filled movement and left open a weak spot. Then Cha-el was the one advancing and attacking. She parried badly but just as Cha-el was getting cocky and lightheaded, thinking that he had won, she parried with a hidden strength and managed to get out of his guard. His scythe which was held fragilely with one hand from the sudden surprise of her surge in strength got knocked out of his hand and made a scrambling sound somewhere far behind him. Sash held her scythe in an attacking position as she advanced fast and hit his arms with the blunt sides leaving blossoming muscle pain that filled his consciousness. Then she did a fast feint towards his shoulder but in truth, she was using the smaller end to get him off balance by hitting his legs. In the seconds where he lost his balance, she pushed him in the stomach with the squared end of her scythe. His body hit the ground with a thump, and before he could try to get up, her knee was on his chest and the curved blade of her foot soldier scythe was too close and aimed at the very soft spot between his collarbones at his lower neck. He tried to move and kick out of her grip but when he did, she just forced more of her weight on top of his chest. It was hard to breath and he had to take very deep breaths to manage to get anything inside of his lungs.

"Surrender" She said. It was an order that burned anger and annoyance. She was out of breath and drool was splattered over her face and upper clothing. Sweat was coating her big forehead and her non fro hair was wet with it. "Now." She inquired and he could just make out some reddened big teeth when she spoke. When he didn't move or answer, she just pressed her knee harder onto his chest making him stutter to be able to breath. Then he formed the sign of surrender with his free hand even though, he hated himself for doing it. She noticed it but didn't let go at once. She sneered at him for a good three seconds before lifting herself up.

Cha-el laid on the cold white stone for a nice fifteen seconds trying to make his breathing to go back to normal and calm his angry, racing heart. Then he lifted himself up and he saw that his scythe was on the other side of the ringed 'battle place.' Sash was gone and he felt embarrassed, that he had lost. Then he felt anger ice his insides for a second. Idiotic bitch. White bastard. Foot soldier fucking scum. But it only lasted for a second before he felt heart wrenching shame. He groaned. He had left The White Rose alone. What idiocy had flown through his mind when he had accepted Sash's challenge? He had put the most important person in the entirety of his life in fucking danger. The most important person that he would ever be in the vicinity of. The most important person to his nation. A seer. A fucking future seer. And he had just left her alone in a stone hut LACKING DOOR with no protection, no guards, no one to take care of her or guide her or even get her food. He groaned again. Frustrated at more than one thing. He was so stupid. A part of his brain told him though that Sash was the idiot in this company, and he agreed with ferocity. He hated her.

He picked up his scythe with his better arm for the other one was still aching. He was quite proud that he hadn't managed to get any blood drawing wounds, but he knew that was because Sash was good enough of an opponent not to cause damage but yet manage to defeat the enemy. She had done it deliberately. He suppressed the thought. In contrast to Cha-el’s condition, his scythe was badly scratched and didn't make the click when he folded it, which was worrying. It meant that it wouldn't properly close nor would it properly open. When he folded it out it would try to fold back in and when he tried to close it properly, it would try to fold back out. He got annoyed with trying to make it click shut after a while and just held it half closed in his hand. It would probably stay shut if he kept it on the horses packaging, but he had no idea if he could properly guard The White Rose if he couldn't use his scythe properly. Back at the barracks if anything like this happened, he would take it to a higher-ranking official who would take it to a smith or get him a new one. He felt frustrated (and angry) that he needed to wait and that this was yet another weakness for the world to take advantage of.

He walked back to the hut, which he luckily remembered the route back to, even if he had been angrily blinded at the moment. He let his thumb trace a curve of the badly beaten blade as he neared the hut. Sash stood outside leaning against the 'doorpost,' facing inwards which he took as a grace from above, for he didn't want to see the giddy expression on her face or her ugly sneer. He sat next to the doorstep and started fingering his scythe again. He felt something close to sorrow now. He wished he hadn't fought with Sash. If he hadn't he wouldn't have left The White Rose vulnerable (even if she was safe now. he could hear her deep breathing from outside and he had to say it was quite cute). If he hadn't he would still have a functional scythe and be able to protect her in future scenarios.

He saw Sash turn towards him, but he didn't lift his head to meet her gaze. He kept on folding the scythe, hoping somehow that miraculously it would make that wonderful clicking sound again. Sash stood still for a while before she cut open the silence. "Is it broken?"

"Isn't that obvious?" He said. Sash just sighed hopelessly and turned her back him, looking in the stone hut. She kept on speaking though, "Don't worry pearls and ribbons. I'm the stronger of us anyways. I’ll protect and you can shy away." She said it sarcastically but strangely enough Cha-el felt embarrassedly comforted. On a deeper subconscious level anyways. He swore a low curse word that he knew Sash heard, but she didn't respond, she only sneered back eye wise.

Cha-el folded his scythe as much as he could and rested it in his lap. He was tired and when sleep came to take him, he didn't protest, much to his later dislike. He did hear Sash laugh at him though, through his dreams of endless stony landscape and collapsing underground barracks.