When the day to leave finally came, Cooper found herself in the back of a rickety old wagon, heading South-East to the city of Ridgewood. Finn and Val sat up front, tending to the horses and guiding them in the right direction - bickering all the while, while Raelyn slept beside her, pressing herself into the corner of the wagon. Sir Barnaby sat opposite her, furiously scribbling in his journal to where Cooper was worried that his quill would start smoking. He muttered under his breath, too low for her to make out the words before his head suddenly snapped up, his horns threatening to tear a hole in the cloth that covered the back end of the wagon.

“I’ve got it!” he exclaimed, an excitable grin tugging at his lips.

Cooper tiredly smiled and nodded. It had been like this for the past two hours. “Got what, Sir?” she’d ask, and the reply was always the same - either he had solved something in his book of numbers, or he had thought he’d figured out a minor historical event. He had, at one point, convinced himself that they had used the Darkblade for healing because of its famed enchantments, to which Finn replied “it’s a sword?” in a bewildered tone.

The process would eventually start over, and one of the three guards would have to answer, then the faun would again become quiet, and then the cycle would continue. Possibly until one of the youngsters finally snapped and throttled the old man.

Ridgewood was a large city, the second largest in Adanak after Garrenbrook. Shining brown with old brass and copper and the sky filled with a thick black cloud of smoke that swirled ominously overhead. It somewhat resembled Kingshill, in all its metallic glory, the geometric designs skating up buildings were not lost on her, though the lack of gold was strangely a comfort despite its oddity. It was several miles away from Southden, the far smaller city(and really, to call it a city at all was laughable) but a minuscule speck on the horizon. The Perrin river cut through the city glittering silver-blue and somehow untouched by the pollution of the industrial capital that was sandwiched around it, splitting the city into two sides. Despite the smoke in the air, the smells of fresh bread from the bakeries and the assortment of flowers in the florists scented the air strongly, artificial aromas being pumped out from the vents dotted around the city.

It filled Cooper with the sudden need to explore. She had never been to this city, not even when she was still a citizen of Adanak. Her mother didn’t have the money while she was still alive and caring for her two children, and neither did her uncle. Whatever happened to any of them would remain a mystery, a luxury that Cooper could not yet afford. Perhaps one day, when she had finally reunited with Iarden Lindys, she could return and show her family what she had become. For better or worse.

She, despite her wanderlust, stuck close to Raelyn like a bewildered puppy, much to her friend’s chagrin. Cooper was worried at the thought of having to interact with the people who were now so strange to her, who spoke in a language she barely remembered. She could pick up the odd word spoken from the sea of people who divided around them, avoiding the crew like the plague, the only real acknowledgement of their existence. This didn’t phase Sir Daniels in the slightest as he bounded down the winding streets with the quartet of his guards trailing behind as they failed to keep up with his frantic pace. Cooper had already begun to resent the old man’s cardio routine.

The four hurried their pace in order to catch up to the older faun as he ducked around a corner remarkably quick. They still had no idea where he was rushing off to, and Raelyn had grabbed Cooper’s hand at some point along the way to keep her from falling behind thanks to her slight but persistent limp thanks to Raelyn biting the hell out of her prosthetic.

The faun led them down a narrow street, one that seemed far older than the rest of the city. While the city was openly soot-stained and in need of real cleaning, the street had been devoid of the dull metallic browns and machinery, instead charred and littered with papers. Cooper glanced around anxiously, her heart thudding against her ribcage and blood coursing through her veins. Shadows seemed to shift around them, but that must have been her imagination. The sun itself seemed to dim as they advanced down the street, despite it being midday and cloudless. A glint in the glass that looked not human enough to be their ramshackle group, a whisper in the wind that sounded like a sentence that Cooper did not catch, and then it was gone. She shivered, looking to her companions for reassurance that what she saw, what she heard was real. Val raised an eyebrow at her, curious, before patting her shoulder with the muttered assurance of “you’re good, kid.”

Sir Barnaby finally came to a stop outside of a building that was far shorter than the others and sat slightly further back from the road. The squat building was a dark, dusty purple, with small square windows with deep red outlines painted around them. The door was dark wood, with thick knots curling in each plank that was held together by a rusty pane of metal. Sir Barnaby rapped loudly with the circular iron knocker that hung in its centre. After a few minutes, a slot opened up above said knocker, and after another pause, it slammed shut with a creak and the door opened to leave the adventurers inside.

Cooper had expected the inside to be minuscule, much like the outside, but instead, the walls were teeming with magic that expanded the floor plan to be slightly more habitable - although not overly noticeable. The walls were a lemon yellow, and low beams held the ceiling. Someone haphazardly covered the wooden floor with different animal pelts, matching the heads that were stuffed and hung on the walls.

She finally noticed the person who had let them in after her curiosity has subsided. A round, dwarfish man with a long white beard that was platted in places and held with small brass beads. He looked too familiar for Cooper’s comfort. He eyed her in return with a wary stare before turning his attention back to Sir Barnaby.

“Braxton!” the old faun exclaimed in an excited greeting, “it’s been a while!”

“I see you dragged the rat back in,” said the dwarf in a light hearted tone, “It’s good to see you again, Val my love. Haven’t aged a day.”

“That makes one of us,” said the upsettingly pale Val, before she pulled the man into a tight, back-pounding hug. She finally released him with a certified shit-eating grin, “you look like hell, Frostbeard. And to think I’m older than you.”

“Absolute bullshit, darling.”

Sir Barnaby introduced the battle-hardened dwarf as Braxton Frostbeard, head of the Frostbeard family and renowned thief. He introduced the party members in turn, and Braxton gave a small nod, shaking their hands in turn. Cooper’s fingers slotted easily over his missing two, which was upsetting enough for the both of them that they let go of the shake earlier than was typically polite.

“Found a job, ey?” he asked, recognition in his warm brown eyes. Cooper stared at him in confusion before it hit her. Her blood froze.

“You’re the bartender” she managed, and he confirmed with a nod and a dry chuckle. He seemed calm, possibly not even knowing what she had done in the bar - or at least she hoped. “from Night’s Harbour.”

“Aye, kid,” he nodded, reaching his hand out, to which she shook in return. His hand practically crushed hers, her fingers clicking under his grip. “Good to see you doing something for yourself. Now! Barnaby, you came here for maps, you’re welcome to my collection, my friend.”

The old dwarf clapped his hands and lead the four of them through what was presumably his home, and down the stairs into a deep stone cellar. The stairs were made of creaking dark wood that felt structurally unsafe. Cooper cautiously followed closely behind Raelyn, putting a hand on the taller woman’s shoulder for support.

The staircase opened up into a large room, roughly the size of the upstairs and filled with as many bookshelves and tables that could fit. A mix of humans, elves and dwarves milled about the library-like room, carrying books or studying maps. A large map of Kirus hung on the wall, with smaller maps pinned to certain sections to show a few cities and towns. Almost looked like the Temple war room, bustling with life. Though why a Temple needed a war room was something that now dawned on her, but they also had an array of soldiers so it balanced out.

From the mass of hard working bodies, a bulky red-headed dwarf ran over to the group with a cocky little grin on their face, which was partially concealed by their bushy, greying beard. They were a little taller than Braxton, but that might have been due to Braxton’s slouch, and so thick with muscle, they were closer to a walking square. The old dwarf sighed at the sight of them.

“Ellys, I thought you had left already,” he grumbled, muttering something under his breath that might have been a curse before turning back to the crew, “I apologize, Barnaby my pal. This”- he gestured towards the redhead - “is my daughter, Ellys. Try to ignore her.”

“Dad, please,” she chuckled in response, her voice higher than Cooper had expected, and her accent hard to place - it might have been Mythrain although Cooper didn’t know enough about the place. It was brash and low, with a distinctive twang like the bottom string on a lute.“I’m getting out of your beard, promise. I was just heading out.”

Braxton took another sceptical look at Cooper and the group, or maybe just Cooper herself before turning to Sir Barnaby, “would you mind lending your help for a few hours? I’d rather it if Ellys doesn’t get herself killed, as my only child who has yet to leave the nest, so to speak. We’ll be here for hours - no use boring the poor kids.”

“Ah yes, of course,” Sir Barnaby agreed almost instantly, nodding with such force his round glasses almost flew from his face. “Raelyn and…Cooke, was it? You go with Ellys. Finn too, if you wish.”

Finn grunted a response that sounded like he was halfway dying, which Cooper assumed was a negative.

“I don’t need babysitting,” huffed Ellys, “I’m twenty-seven, I’m an adult in human years.”

“Hey, he never said it was you getting baby sat,” remarked Val, leaving Cooper and Raelyn to groan and make noises of disapproval like the twenty-year-olds they were, both on the prospect of needing a guardian and that Barnaby had got Cooper’s name wrong again. Val paid them no mind, pointing a withered thumb in Cooper’s general direction. “Keep an eye on that one, she’s a little green to our operation.”

After a long while of consideration, Cooper and Raelyn gave into Braxton’s idea only on the basis that it would give Raelyn more time to see the city itself and continue her own goal of retracing her family history. Finn had decided to stay behind with Sir Barnaby in order to help with research, opting to fill the women in on the details afterwards. Ellys continued huffing and protesting that she didn’t need any help with whatever she was doing, but gave in as long as it meant that she could be done with it by the end of the day.

And so, the newly formed trio set off into the city, led by the ginger dwarf. Ellys was stout and clad in fine black armour, which Cooper would have assumed meant that she was a vigilante or criminal of some kind to hide in the shadows, if not for the woman’s cloak. The cloak was an eye-catching apple green that Cooper couldn’t for the life of her understand the advantage of — and this coming from a Templar whose colours were silver and purple. At least her armour was made for her to stand out, not whatever Ellys was attempting to accomplish.

Ellys led them through dark alleys, stopping every once in a while to look over her shoulder or to hiss at the two soldiers to quieten down their aimless chatter every so often. Not that they were hiding from anything. At least, not that Cooper assumed that they were hiding. Dust and soot billowed around their feet as they walked, the grime caked to their scuffed shoes. The streets passed in shades of dull browns, each barely identifiable from the last. Cooper winced as pain shot up her leg from where her knee rubbed against her prosthetic - it was only ever supposed to be temporary until she had a new one fitted, but due to lack of money and time, she tried to forget about it. She felt horrible at the idea of asking Sir Barnaby for her payment early, let alone letting the old man pay for it himself as he’d probably be willing to due to his seemingly kind nature.

“Where are we even going?” questioned Cooper after they had ventured down what seemed to be the thirtieth back alley, or that they were going in circles.

Ellys stopped and turned abruptly, staring up at Cooper with large, unfocused green eyes, one pupil very obviously larger than the other. Her mouth parted in a way that suggested she was going to say something, but shut it quickly, letting out a deep breath through her nose. After a few seconds, she shook her head and started again. “The Pit”.

Raelyn glanced at Cooper, then back at Ellys. “The… Pit?”

“Yeah.”

“Awesome. Sounds cosy.”

Ellys didn’t seem to catch Raelyn’s sarcasm, only nodding and scampering off again down the same lane they passed not too long ago. Raelyn groaned loudly.

“Gods, she’s driving me mad. Does she even know where she’s going?”

“Beats me,” Cooper shrugged and leaned her shoulder against the wall, wiping her brow with the back of her tattered cotton sleeve. “Why don’t we wait here a while? At this rate, she’ll be back soon enough.”

“We’ve been chasing our tail for almost an hour, it’s getting ridiculous” sighed Raelyn, her voice tapering out into a low growl that reverberated from deep within her chest.

Cooper made no attempt to argue.

The two stood around waiting for the return of Ellys. As several minutes turned into hours, the sun turned to hide behind the clouds, casting the two women in shadows. Their idle banter turned to discomfort and complaining, growing more and more on edge as the day passed. Cooper scratched at her arms in agitation, running her nails over the blackened brand on the inside of her wrist.

“I think we’ve been had,” she murmured, mostly to herself as Raelyn had taken to pacing the street instead, but she trusted that she could hear her, regardless.

Raelyn had turned at the bottom of the straight path and made her way back, kicking at the ground as she went and showing no indication that she had, in fact, heard. Cooper let out a large sigh and slumped back against the wall, staring at her friend with heavily hooded eyes. “Raelyn? We’ve been had.”

“I’m killing Barnaby.”

“Raelyn-”

“I didn’t sign up for this.”

“I don’t think we have a choice. Do you know the way back?”

Raelyn stopped in her tracks, then groaned as the realisation hit her like a stampede. “That little bastard. Fuck Barnaby, I’m killing Ellys.”

“Right there with you.”

It was Cooper’s turn to let out a low huff, puffing out her cheeks as she did so. She weighed the options in her head; either look for this Pit or try to find their way back to the Frostbeard’s residence. Neither sparked enthusiasm. For a woman once a leader, the sheer thought of making such a mundane decision made her baulk. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leant back against the rough brick, staring at Raelyn as if to goad an order. She watched as Raelyn’s throat contracted as she swallowed, how the growing moonlight highlighted an especially prominent vein that ran from her collarbone and up behind her ear. Something that Raelyn had been self-conscious about, something Cooper had never paid attention to until now. She was ethereal, the moons giving her a silver glow. Everyone was a little bit in love with Raelyn Godrick. Absolutely everyone, but none more than Cooper. Platonically, of course.

“You’re staring,” said Raelyn.

“Of course,” swallowed Cooper, “I’m waiting for you to do something.”

“Be careful, Coop, you’re starting to sound a bit gay.”

Cooper snorted. “Only starting?”

Raelyn shoved at her, metal hand glinting in the moonlight. Beautiful. Ethereal. Absolutely awful. She shook her head as if to disperse her thoughts, shoving Raelyn back as if they were still the naive teenagers that had met so many years before. As if she never had any feelings for her sometimes-roommate. As if those feelings had never been reciprocated. What a horrible time for them to come swinging back, when she was a corpse, and Raelyn was dating her godawful professor. Flesh hand touched flesh hand, brushing against each other in the cooling breeze. Cooper cocked her head to look at Raelyn, finding that she was already staring. Inquisitive, concerned, and something else, lingering under the surface-

“Oi!” a voice broke Cooper’s thoughts. She broke away from Raelyn, leaving the woman bewildered. The voice was connected to the scrawniest woman alive, that Cooper had yet to have a full conversation with; Val. “You two lost?”

“Definitely lost something,” shrugged Raelyn. “You seen Ellys about?”

“Oh, Braxton’s going to kill you,” lamented Val, not sounding sorry in the slightest.

“She said something about some…pit?”

That caught Val’s attention. Her eyebrows disappeared up into her white fringe, though Cooper couldn’t see her eyes behind the brown-tinted sunglasses she wore even in darkness. “I take it back, Ellys is gonna kill you.”

“No one is killing anyone,” snapped Cooper. Not again, at least. “Do you know where it is?”

Val hummed, tilting her head to one side and walking off down the street. She made it almost all the way down the metal throat, to the open maw of its end. Cooper watched her go, how despite her short legs she strode like she owned the world. She could have, and she would never have known. It had been made clear that no one knew Val, not truly. The strange little woman who kept to herself finally turned, staring back at them behind darkened glasses.

“Well?” she asked, “are you coming or not?”

Val did not lead them to whatever the Pit was. Cooper stood outside a post office as Val took to the streets, asking around for the barbers as Raelyn had long since disappeared into the building. She rubbed at the skin above the wooden attachment, what was becoming less and less a leg and more a chewed stick(with no thanks to Raelyn) that collected every little bit of grime that covered the cities. Rolling up her borrowed trousers, she winced at the raw flesh that stared back at her, rubbed down to red. She hadn’t taken much of a look at her slipshod amputation, she hadn’t wanted to. Less of denial that it happened, and more fearing the handy work. The lack of proper bathing had helped her ignore it, though now the fear of infection caught up with her. If corpses could get infections. If she were a corpse.

“I bought you paper,” said Raelyn, appearing at her side out of nowhere. Cooper hastily dropped her trouser leg back down, letting it pool around her ankle(if it could be called an ankle) once more. “figured you’d want to send something to Iarden while we’re waiting.”

Iarden. It had been months since she had seen her, spoken to her, held her. She wasn’t sure what she’d say, and she felt that an ‘I’m not dead! Sorry!’ wasn’t going to cut it after all their years together. They didn’t have enough time for a full letter, not that Cooper had that much to say. It would also mean not pouring her heart out in overdramatics to her friend who couldn’t care less while she wrote, as Cooper’s own attempts at handwriting were abysmal and barely legible; not that reading came easy to her as it was. After a few minutes of deciding, and helpful interjections from Raelyn, she managed to get down a note of less than a hundred words letting Iarden know that she was alive, that she was now travelling alongside Raelyn in Adanak, and that she loved and missed her. The ending was a bit sappy for Cooper’s liking, but every word was true, even if Raelyn had waxed poetic through gritted teeth.

Raelyn’s own letter was far longer, and by the look on her face, it wasn’t as positive. She was about to ask what was wrong when Val finally returned, a triumphant grin bearing her awful mouth of too many teeth.

The Pit was a fighting arena that could be found underneath a barber’s shop near the centre of the city. Grey concrete and bright lights as far as the eye can see, over the writhing crowd before them. Hidden away several streets away, it was a wonder that they couldn’t find it by the sound alone. Bodies spill into the narrow entrance, piling around it. A writhing, pulsating wall that did not leave much of the street. A marvel, really, how they hadn’t seen them, heard them. Though they definitely could smell them now. A thick cloud of sweat hung over them, the air a hot, thick soup. Interestingly, despite the smell and the heat coming off the crowd, they gave off the same energy as a small child running with a stolen knife. Joy in the act of unknowing chaos. The crowd fed off each other, hyping up the energy, leaving Cooper’s stomach to roll around in its darkened abyss. The adult witnessing the scissor-wielding child never did feel that same freedom of waving around an unknowing weapon, did they?

Hundreds packed like sardines in a can for the chance to catch a glimpse of the stage where two men bludgeoned each other artfully, sending teeth and blood flying over the front few rows. Cooper gagged at the smell around her, holding a hand tightly over her mouth. Raelyn didn’t look much better, her face scrunched tightly. A pang of sympathy rang through Cooper, the knowledge that Raelyn had heightened smell making her steel herself. If Raelyn could deal, so could she.

A hand held her back from entering any further. Val. Her pale hard gripped Cooper’s shoulder, stopping her from following Raelyn.

“One second, if you will,” she said, voice barely higher than the cacophony around them. “I have something for you.”

Cooper could feel every muscle in her body tense in a chain reaction. Almost instinctive, despite having no reason to distrust her fellow party member. Had no reason to trust her, either, but that was neither here nor there.

“Yeah?” she asked.

“Yeah.” And with that Val reached her skinny fingers into the breast of her leather jacket, slowly pulling out a folded paper. She unfurled it with care, finally pulling her glasses to sit on the top of her head as her eyes darted from the paper and to Cooper, over and over as a smile grew steadily wider. Gold eyes. Like that man in Naveer. Like the eyes that haunted her undeath. “Here, take it. I think you’ll find it interesting at the least.”

With hesitant fingers, Cooper grasped the paper. The paper that bore her own face. A wanted poster, one of the many. Val still smiled at her, softer now. Understanding. A breath shook its way out of Cooper’s ribs, heart a fluttering bird in its cage.

“What do you want from me?” said Cooper lowly. “Why show me this?”

“It’s no warning, I promise. No, I don’t care what you did or your reasons, I only wish to show you that I know.” Which was not as comforting as Val may have meant. Still, Cooper refolded the poster and handed it back. A comfort or a thinly veiled threat, Cooper was unsure, though neither struck her with ease. “Come now, Cooper. We have your ward to capture, yes?”

The further inside they managed to move, the worse it got. It, to some extent, reminded Cooper of the riots that took place around five years previously - when she was but a grub - against the new Mayor; Thaddeus Cooper, of which she had no relation she was certain. A common name, in Kingshill at least. One that had been hers for as long as she could remember. Her partner in guard-ship pulled her through the dense crowd by her wrist with surprising strength. The woman’s hair a beacon in the darkened room, white against the positively horrific amount of people. This was definitely far worse than any riot, and it was something that Cooper could not solve no matter her remaining status in the Temple.

Her chest ached, breath coming faster and more forceful. Each inhale let her taste the sweat that diffused in the air, the stale tang becoming one with her internal organs. With each elbow to the gut, each little shove and each straight-up punch as those around her writhed their way in further, Cooper could feel something building. She felt acidic.

She could not hold back the growl that rumbled from deep within her. The hand on her wrist tugged her sharply, jerking her forward like a dog on a leash. A misbehaving dog at that. Goosebumps prickled her skin, the sudden cold that washed over her alarming. She was going to faint.

Her back slammed against the wall. She snarled again, eyes unfocused. Something cold hit her cheek. It hit her cheek repeatedly before stopping. Something warm touched her cheeks now, both of them, cupping her face.

“Val,” said a voice, too disconnected for recognition. Deep and comforting in its familiarity, though Cooper was too far gone to know more. “What the hell did you do to her?”

“Didn’t do anything,” sniffed Val.

The voice sighed. Something rubbed at the skin beneath her glazed eyes. Colours, she could see, in a disjointed mass like stained glass slowly melting. Another growl-whimper escaped her, she tried to move forward but was slammed back into the wall. Her chest heaved.

“Well, my dear Raelyn, your friend is rabid-”

“No, no no no, you do not stab-”

“But she-”

“No.”

Cooper sprung forward again, shouldering past weakly. The lights danced in her eyes, a blurred mess of colour. Raelyn heaved a near agonized sigh before grabbing Cooper by the front of her damp white shirt and pinned her to the wall. Cooper tried to push back, but the werewolf was stronger, but strangely didn’t seem as strong as she used to be. Focusing as hard as she could in the space before her, the colour that mad

“Hey, what the fuck has gotten into you?” growled Raelyn, her brown eyes never leaving Cooper’s bright blues.

Cooper’s eyes flickered, searching Raelyn’s face. She swallowed thickly, going to reply when a loud voice cut across her.

“Ay, take it to the ring!” a man bellowed, voice heavy with the effects of alcohol. Raelyn turned her head to the noise, shooting a glare in the general direction. Before she could holler back the man’s words became a chant, slowly but surely rippling across the ocean of bodies around them.

“To the ring! To the ring! To the ring!”

Practically vibrating with excitement, Val rolled up her sleeves, only for Raelyn to push them back down in the same manner that you might do with a rambunctious child.

“We’re not fighting,” she said, barely higher than the din. Val paid her no mind, ushering Cooper forward. “Hey - we’re not fighting.”

“I don’t think you have a choice, love,” said Val with a shrug, “unless you want a crack at her instead?”

The crowd got louder around them. The noise a sea, and Cooper was drowning. Short fingernails bit into her palms as she sucked in breath after panicked breath.

“If,” she wheezed, “if it gets us out faster. I’m game.”

Cooper’s ears rang a single piercing note, but her other senses were clear as day. She could feel every notch in the ground as she got dragged to the stage, see every person in the back rows, smell all the blood and perspiration that infused the arena from every person that fought before her. She and Raelyn were haphazardly thrown at the ring, ragdolling over the rough rope that surrounded the octagonal area. She huffed as she fought to catch the breath that got knocked out of her, heaving herself over the side and into the ring.

Raelyn moved to the opposite side, wrapping her hands with yellowed bandages that lay on the side. She cracked her neck and got into stance. Cooper wet her lips and tugged off her shirt, not trusting it to say clean during the fight. A ripple of gasps come from around her at the sight of her Temple markings - the crescent moon and half star of Omera that was carved into the flesh of her back. It was that or the various wounds she had suffered over the years, but most likely the former due to the Shalian stance on the Mabrisian Gods.

“No holding back now, Coop. Just like back at the Academy.”

Raelyn’s words weren’t comforting, in fact, they were quite the opposite. Cooper was never the best at hand-to-hand combat, not even close. She fought with a sword and shield and could use a crossbow at a push, however she felt naked without a blade in hand. Her muscles twitched as she mirrored Raelyn’s stance, as strong as she appeared it was all quite superficial when she didn’t know how to use it properly.

The announcer walked into the arena, over to Raelyn where they exchanged hushed words that Cooper could make out as an introduction. He nodded and swiftly walked over towards Cooper.

“What’s the name, kid?”

Cooper opened her mouth to answer, and hesitated. This was her chance to be more than a Templar, at least for a little while. What had she told Mycah, all those many months ago? Her name - her true name. A chance to reinvent herself. A chance to be herself.

She wet her lips again. “Alek Cooper” she finally managed, her throat like coarse sand. The man nodded and walked to the centre of the ring.

“And now for our newcomers! Raelyn Godrick-!” he paused, letting the crowd yell encouragement, heckles, and scream before continuing, “and Alek Cooper!”

The name hummed in her brain, kicking off emotions she didn’t think she could have. Alek. Alek. Alek. The name felt right when spoken allowed. She felt a smile pull at her lips but forced it down. Raelyn furrowed her brow in confusion but didn’t say anything for or against it. She was so elated that she didn’t care. This was her. She was Alek again. The name her mother gave her, not the name of the man who sold her to her duty for his own peace of mind. She was so caught up in her own giddy thoughts that she almost didn’t hear the bell ring.

Raelyn didn’t take any chances. She lunched forward and swiped before the bell could finish reverberating its sound. Alek narrowly dodged, blocking the next incoming attack with ease. That fact alone took Raelyn off guard. Alek wasn’t good at hand-to-hand combat - a fact that everyone at the Academy knew. Yet here she was, dodging and blocking with the best of them. The best.

She threw a jab. She blocked. She swerved out of the way of a strong punch. Raelyn reeled back, giving the two women a chance to catch their breath and assess the next move. The taller woman regarded Alek with distrust, eyes raking over her body to look for a weakness that she hadn’t needed to know before. Alek had no idea what was happening. It was almost as if she could see Raelyn’s moves before she made them, which was impossible. Seers did not exist.

Raelyn wiped her dripping brow, nodding at Alek to show she was ready to go again. Alek almost breathed a sigh of relief, instead nodding back. The two women lunged at each other, a tangle of limbs. They were no longer playing it safe. They were different. Alek was different. Something was not quite right.

Alek snarled as her lip split, tongue darting over the wound. Blood filled her mouth, igniting something deep and primal in the back of her brain. Her throat tightened. A low animalistic growl rumbled in her chest like thunder. A flash of ginger peaked her attention. A flash flame in the front rows. She pounced, only to get clotheslined by a strong arm to her stomach. She bounced back as if she was made of rubber. Bouncing off the rope, she propelled herself forward before stopping mid-movement, near tripping as she lost her balance.

Raelyn’s veins pulsed under her skin, a rhythmic hum louder than the ocean of bodies around them. They pulsed as one, and really, what actually was different between them? Walking bones and blood, hearts beating slightly out of sync. Alek’s head pounded.

“Rae - Raelyn” she forced out, pulling back and putting a few steps of distance between her and her friend. Raelyn’s chest heaved, her unfocused eyes shining amber. “W-we need to end this. Now.”

Alek cursed her shaking words. Raelyn stared at her blankly for what seemed like minutes but could have only been seconds before nodding. Raelyn stepped back a few more paces. All they needed was a victor. She trusted Raelyn not to kill her, but she did not place the same trust in herself. She was in uncharted territory in her current state.

Alek got back into stance, only barely, before the full weight of Raelyn Godrick; heiress and warrior slammed into her and pinned her to the ground.

She could vaguely hear three sharp whistles, muffled by the blood roaring in her veins. Raelyn deflated on top of her, heaving sharp breaths before descending into uneven laugher. Alek wished she could do the same, but she felt that she was more likely to throw up.

The two eventually got up, Raelyn leading with Alek following behind with swaying steps. Whatever had come over her was gone, but the aftermath made her feel drunk. She swallowed down bile, vision blurring until she found herself sitting on a barstool hunched over the bar itself. She could hear the hum of conversation around her, but felt too queasy and exhausted to tune in properly. She lay her head against the cool wooden surface and closed her eyes. She’d be fine, as long she so could sleep for just a little while.