Feith stood just inside in the door of the cabin as Reyna trudged her way in, as if the Queen of the Northern Kingdom was waiting for her. Something told her her other was well aware of what transpired outside those frosted windows, so she didn't bother to ask or explain as she met her assessing gaze.

"You're leaving?"

Feith nodded. "Will you be alright?"

"I always am," Reyna reassured her, and her mother closed the distance and wrapped her in a hug. Reyna let out a slow breath as she returned the embrace. She would miss her, but knew them leaving was for the best.

It was her mother who stepped back first, and Reyna watched her with a curious eye as Feith removed her wedding ring from her finger and placed it in her daughter's hand.

The blatant look of surprise on Reyna's face made Feith smile. "Your father received that ring from his mother when he first came to this camp to remind him that she was always with him, and now I'm giving it to you to remind you of the same."

The Heir's throat tightened as she swallowed, daring a glance behind her, looking through the windows where her father still sat on the log outside. For one hundred years, her mother wore that ring- the ring her father gave to them on their wedding day- but Reyna never considered where it came from. How would he feel to know his wife was not passing it on to his daughter to potentially get it lost in the mud?

"I'm sure he will understand when he sees it's missing," Feith reassured her as if she knew her daughter's thought.

Reyna returned her attention to her mother, nodding, still speechless.

"Now go kick his ass," she instructed her daughter, wrapping her in another hug quick hug. Her mother's lips were soft against her dirty brow, but the Queen sent her off without another word or worry.

Reyna walked from the cabin with the ring clutched in her hand. She paused only to look at it- the ruby was as red as blood and encased by silver woven over and around it. Her mother never took this ring off- what made her think her daughter would be worthy of such a prize now?

But her father was right. It was time for her to begin her own journey. And it would start with the Trial, and what she would need to do to get there.

So with her father's ring in her hand, she brought her braid over her shoulder and undid the leather tie at its end. Threading it through the ring, she knotted the end and tied the thong around her neck and placed it under the shirt. The ring was cool again her skin, but she welcomed it- a pleasant reminder as she walked to the edge of the sparring ring.

She would do this. She could do this. She had to do this. And so she stood there and watched, waiting in line with the males who pretended she didn't exist, calculating her options until it was indeed her turn.

The male Reyna gave her blade to as she departed was the current unfortunate target to face off against the General. With visible effort, the male was struggling beneath Thessan's ministrations. The General himself continued to wear that pompously cruel smirk that never ceased to unnerve his opponent.

Until that morning, Reyna considered herself exempt.

She wasn't so sure anymore.

Thessan swung his blade, and the male just barely got the blade up in time to block the General's attack. Thessan took advantage of his unease and changed his footing, swinging again from a different angle, this time aiming for the male's ribs. The recruit shrunk back, luckily blocking his blade again.

Thessan was taking it easy on the male.

"If you keep holding the blade like that, your arms are going to be too sore to hold the thing tomorrow," Thessan reprimanded.

The male looked like he was going to piss himself.

Thessan sheathed his own blade at his side and stepped towards the male. The male, instinctively, took a step back.

Reyna snorted.

Thessan stopped and glared, his nostrils flaring before he took another step closer, and the male did not concede again. "Hold it like this," he said and readjusted the male's hold on the blade, moving his hands where they belonged. "It's less likely to slip around in your grip if you hold it like this."

The scare tactic was well known- Reyna had endured it often enough, but sometimes it didn't work on everyone. The lack of hostility seemed to surprise the male because he only blinked but he nodded, tightening his grip on the hilt of the sword as the General instructed.

Sometimes it was hard to remember Thessan was a part of this camp once, just like they were. That he had to work his way from the bottom up, from being the lowliest of recruits to capturing the attention of the King and becoming his General quicker than any other in history.

Thessan took a pleased step back as the male tried out the new grip, swinging it back and forth, but pulled his own blade free of its sheath again, taking his stance and nodding at the male to advance. The male's eyes widened, but he did as he was silently commanded.

There were no precautions this time, and the still-vulnerable male was soon on his back after the General expertly sidestepped his approach and reached out to grip the male's hand. Twisting the male's wrist until he gave a cry of pain, the borrowed sword dropped from his hand before Thessan could shatter his wrist, and he dropped to his knees with the tip of Thessan's blade leveled at his throat.

"You're dead," Thessan said simply.

The stunned male crawled from the ring as soon as Thessan released him, holding his wrist as the General summoned, "Next!"

And so it went on. Some were more aggressive, more ready to prove themselves as warriors than others. Those were the ones Thessan was less than kind to, the ones he knocked on their asses first and with more humiliation. The North was cruel, but that's why they were known to be the most fearless of Warriors.

As the line thinned, Reyna remained at the outer edge of the circle and soon she was next. Once Thessan sent the current recruit careening to the ground, Reyna silently entered the ring. Picking up her blade that remained ignored since it was discarded, her thoughts were set on the task at hand. She wasn't aiming to maim, or hurt, or beat Thessan. She was there to train. She was going to grow stronger, and faster, and anything else she needed to complete the Trial. And this male, her father's general, as close as a brother and friend- Thessan was going to help her do it.

"I wasn't sure you'd bother coming back."

That was a lie. He knew she'd be back. He was looking for a reaction she wasn't going to give him.

And so, with determination in her eyes and devotion in her heart, she took her place across from Thessan and sheathed her sword in its scabbard along her back. Taking her stance not with blades, but with her fists ready, she met Thessan's gaze and nodded.

That same cocky smirk lined the General's lips and he nodded to the remaining recruits on the outside of the circle. Whether it was to let them know their lessons were complete for the day, or to give them the heads' up to watch the upcoming display, she was uncertain as few remained to watch.

Once she regained his attention, she watched as he sheathed his own sword and proceeded to roll his shoulders as if to release some of the tension, cracking his neck and flexing his fingers in the process. He knew as well as she that the Trial forbade the use of blades, so if she was going to train properly to survive Trial, she was going to need to show Thessan she was serious.

"It starts with muscle memory," he instructed as they began to circle one another. "The less you can think about what move you would make before you've made it."

"Begin."

And so they did.

It was like a deadly dance, this hand-to-hand combat. Kick for kick, punch for punch, Thessan met, blocked, and countered her, but she was ready every time.

Gods, she was more than ready.

She let the lesson continue, listening when Thessan wanted to teach, and found she was more than willing to try out his new instructions as soon as possible. Perhaps it was her renewed focus, that she was no longer there to play around, and in no mood for pointless banter, that motivated her to press on.

There was too much on the line, and too many people depending on her to succeed.

Her knuckles grew bruised and bloody, her legs sore, her dark hair plastered to her face from the sweat- but she would work her hardest until the sun set, or Thessan was done with her.

Whichever came first.

The day dragged on with barely a break. Her leather jacket and gloves were discarded, and she cursed herself for not tying her hair back, but Reyna continued to push herself without a break for food or drink. She was sore and tired and hot and worn out, and Thessan seemed to increase his efforts with harder punches and faster kicks. Where she was able to block mostly, if not all, of his attacks before, she was now lucky to deflect half of them without allowing them to hit their mark, and it was getting harder to keep up.

But she wouldn't quit. Even as her footing stumbled, even as she wavered, she would not stop. She knew it was foolish, that her stomach growled with hunger, her throat ached. That the bath would feel so much better when she was done, and the feeling of her bed sheets against her skin...

Distracted by her own thoughts, Reyna completely missed the block of Thessan's right hook as it went straight for her face. She turned her head fast enough for it to hit her cheek rather than her eye, but it sent her sprawling with a surprised yelp.

Thessan may have been more surprised that his blow landed than Reyna was as she fell. "Up," he ordered, even though his own breath was ragged from the day's training.

Stars danced behind her eyes as she allowed the pain to roll through her. Just another bruise to add to the others, she mused to herself as she spit out the mud and blood that made its way into her mouth. Wiping the back of her hand against her lip, she almost smiled at the sight. It wasn't a good day until blood was drawn.

"Up," he repeated impatiently. He wouldn't offer her a hand up, but she didn't expect it either.

Her breaths were ragged as she climbed to her feet, her shirt and leathers now clinging to her with sweat and mud. But the fire was back in her eyes as she turned to Thessan, her stance now defensive though she knew she staggered.

"Your turn," was all she said.

He watched her for a moment, but dropped his hands to his side. "That's enough for today," he growled, straightening to maintain his authority. "I'll expect you up early for a run around the camp before dawn."

Though she was slightly disappointed in his refusal to continue, Reyna relaxed her stance all the same, keeping a wary eye on him. "At dawn then," she confirmed with a nod, but he was already storming from the ring as if she'd done nothing but waste his time all day.

Slowly she made her way to the outer edge of the circle to retrieve her discarded the leathers and blades. Gathering them in her arms, she slowly retreated to her cabin, quiet and empty now since her parents' departure.

She'd have been more focused on their absence if she didn't want anything more than a bath and sleep.

In fact, sleep overtook her so heavily after she bathed, she didn't bother putting any clothes on before collapsing in bed for a night's sleep filled with dreams of camp fires, past battles, and falling snow.