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“No magic in the arena.” Jarvis scowled at Rikar. “You know the rules.”

Rikar strode towards Talis, spinning his sword deftly. “Your screams will be like honey.”

Talis gritted his teeth and ignored his taunts. He circled around to his left, and Mara followed his lead, staying close.

Rikar’s blade sung as it cut through the air, just inches from Talis’s stomach. Talis clasped a hand to his stomach, almost feeling the steel blade lash into his body. A few inches closer and my guts would spill out onto the sand, Talis thought.

While Rikar leered at Talis, Mara leapt at Rikar’s back and punctured his scalemail armor just above the hip on the side. Blood dripped from her dagger, and for a moment, her face flashed a triumphant look.

Rikar whirled around and kicked Mara on the shoulder, sending her twirling through the air. She fell hard on her back and whimpered. A cold sweat fell over Talis as he remembered her being injured by the boar. He charged Rikar, hoping to catch him unaware, but Rikar just riposted and deflected his sword aside.

Mara pushed herself up and grabbed her daggers, nodding as if she was okay.

Rikar clapped his sword against the bloodied spot on his armor. “You barely pricked me. Next time shove your dagger in a bit harder…” He scoffed, and motioned Nikulo towards Talis.

Nikulo charged, spinning wide, causing Talis to leap back. Talis thrust his sword at Nikulo’s chest, but Nikulo swatted the weapon aside, spun, and slammed his staff into Talis’s shins, knocking him face-first onto the ground. Stars spun wildly in his eyes. To the side, Talis could see Rikar raising his blade. Rikar struck down at him, but Talis rolled aside. Mara this time jumped on Rikar’s back and tightened a dagger against his throat. A line of blood trickled down his neck as he sank to his knees, face red and sweaty.

Rikar growled. With one lightning-quick move, he yanked her dagger arm and sent her tumbling over his shoulder and onto the ground.

Talis jumped up, and quick-stepped away from Nikulo’s bladed staff. Talis parried and spun around, then slashed, but Nikulo knocked the blade away. Nikulo grinned in satisfaction. Talis leapt at Nikulo, swinging his blade at Nikulo’s head. Nikulo raised his staff to block, but Talis kicked his chest and knocked him onto his back.

Mara and Talis charged Rikar in unison. Talis sprang at Rikar, while Mara circled around. We can win, Talis thought. He aimed his blade towards Rikar’s chest, but somehow Nikulo had managed to get up quickly, and drove right through Talis and Mara, his bladed staff spinning wide. Talis jumped back, only to feel Rikar’s sword grating along his ringmail chest, issuing a shower of sparks. Talis retreated fast, smelling metallic smoke from the sparks.

Grinning, Rikar pressed his advantage, slicing and pushing him towards the arena’s edge. Just when Rikar was about to land a blow on Talis’s neck, Talis felt a dizzy sensation. All movement around him stopped, and the light in the arena went gold. The sky was filled with dancing stars.

Like the world had frozen, Talis could see the entire scene at once. The weakness in Rikar’s defense. Rikar’s frozen face shone with hate and bloodlust and madness. Talis felt a wind whirling inside his chest.

He knew suddenly where he had to strike.

Before time rushed on, Talis danced aside and landed a blow hard on Rikar’s hip, breaking through his armor, sending blood spurting, a red stain on his leg. Rikar sank, gripping the wound. That was it. The pain shot up to Rikar’s eyes and across his face. He bit his lip hard and sank to the ground.

The healer cried out and raced forward. He placed his hands on Rikar’s hip and the armor glowed white-hot, and Rikar’s face was filled with light. Rikar’s reddened eyes glared furiously at Talis.

“The winner of this year’s Blood Dagger is Talis of House Storm and Mara of House Lei.” Master Jarvis lifted Talis’s and Mara’s arms, and nodded to the victors.

Talis found a smile coming to his face. They’d won. They really won. Father would finally see him as worthy to carry on the Storm family lineage. He couldn’t wait to run home and tell his family. They’d won the Blood Dagger and won the right to fight in the Arena of the Sej Elders, in front of all the crowds that gathered to watch the fights. Talis remembered his father’s beaming face after his older brother Xhan had won his first Blood Dagger competition.

The healer finished casting the binding spell to close Rikar’s wounds. Talis offered a hand to help Rikar to his feet, but Rikar slapped his arm away. “Don’t touch me.” He picked up his weapon and limped down the tunnel.

Talis looked over at Mara, and gripped her hand. “I didn’t think we had a chance. But you were so amazing.”

Mara blushed, and waved the idea away. “You finished him. What got into you anyways?”

“It was nothing. I got in a lucky strike.” Talis could feel a redness wash over his face.

“You’ve improved.” Nikulo stared at Talis, as if puzzled. “That was an incredible move at the end.”

Master Jarvis Numerian tromped up. “That was a good fight. They outplayed you both at first”-he studied Talis-”but your final blow…deadly fast and accurate.”

Talis bowed to Master Jarvis, still feeling lightheaded over the win. After Jarvis left, Talis turned to leave with Mara, noticing the air was somehow warmer now. Mara reached out and held Talis’s hand, and they strode down the narrow cobblestone street, tall shops pressing in from either side.

“You did amazingly well, Talis.” Mara glanced up at him, pride and wonder in her eyes.

Talis squeezed her hand and grinned at her, his head bobbing from side-to-side. “I’m starving.”

The air smelled of sweet pies from the baker’s oven, with wafts of apple and honey and pear stirring in his nostrils. His stomach complained.

As they rounded a corner, a small, dirty boy in shoddy clothes ran up to Talis.

“Please sir, have pity on an old lady and her grandson.” The boy gestured to a frail, wrinkled woman crumpled against a stone house. Her hair looked windswept and tangled, and her skin was sun-burnt and dry.

Talis wanted to go home and celebrate with his father, but the boy wouldn’t let him pass.

“Wait,” Mara said, and held Talis’s shoulder. She turned to face the boy. “Where are you from?”

“We’re refugees…from the city of Onair. Please, sir, just a few coppers?”

“Onair?” Talis said. Father was from the western coastal city of Onair.

“She looks hungry,” Mara said.

“I wouldn’t ask for myself,” the boy said. “But my grandmother is so cold. I’m afraid for her life.”

“We should help her… Give her some coins.”

Talis nodded, glancing at the woman. She cringed as they approached.

Mara put out her hand. “Please, we mean no harm.”

The woman blinked, breathing in and out haltingly.

“You see,” Mara said, “my friend here has a few extra coins…we wanted to share them with you. It’s cold out.”

Opening her mouth as if to speak, the old woman coughed several times instead, wincing as if something hurt inside. She took a long breath, lifting her moist eyes to stare at Mara. “It is cold outside. Cold, cold, so cold…” A tear spilled down her cheek, but she remained motionless.

Talis placed some coins in her hands. They were like ice, as if nothing could ever warm that flesh. The woman stared at the coins for a while, then smiled at Talis. “You’re a kind boy. I’ve not had such kindness since”-she glanced off-”since before…” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes glazed over.

Turning to the boy, Talis said, “What happened in Onair?”