That wooden shield was so heavy, so, so heavy, as she lifted it again, only just catching that blow from Mia before she had to drop it. It wasn't just her shoulder, her back and her sides were aching, her arms so tired as she lifted it again and this time she swung for Mia. It was getting harder and harder to think that there was any point to this, with that sun beating down on her and that sand clinging to her skin, but then she remembered that there was only one thing that mattered. She had to buy herself time to work her way out of these bands and if bashing a wooden shield with a wooden sword was going to do that, then that was what she was going to do. She gritted her teeth, letting out a soft grunt when she swung for Mia again, but the girl was so slow, Phoenix's sword clipping the side of her hand with a loud crack, and Mia yelped, dropping everything and clutching her hand to her chest.
Phoenix tutted, shaking her head and watching Mia cry. Hadn't anyone taught her to be strong? Hadn't anyone told her that the Head-hunters didn't care if you cried? Phoenix stared at her, knowing that her own parents had taught her better, but then she found herself looking away, knowing that it didn't really matter how well she'd been taught when she'd just ended up here anyway. She waited for Mia to stop crying then, that shield on her arm so heavy, that sword in her hand scratching the skin of her palm. This girl didn't belong here, that much was certain, but what could Phoenix do about it? Nothing without giving more than she could afford to, and nothing without risking her plan to find Iris. She had her answer then, her shoulders dropping, her eyes flicking back to Mia, and then she nodded towards Mia's sword in the sand.
"Pick it up," Phoenix said, and Mia was still crying when she bent down, her face scrunching up in a wince, her shoulders so low when she stood back up.
"I can't, Phoenix," she whispered, and Phoenix didn't think she could either, she didn't think that she had much left in her to give herself, but she needed to keep those eyes off of her.
"You have to," Phoenix said. "Emery's watching, hurry up."
Mia cried again, her swings so limp and slow, each one landing with a whimper. This wasn't going to work, all Mia was doing was making this worse, and Phoenix had to figure out what to do about it. Her eyes flicked to Boris and Belfire, watching and waiting to see if one of them would be any better. There was no way she could spar with Boris, not with his arms like that and his swings so loud and cracking against Belfire's shield. Phoenix was not sure it would be much better with Belfire, his cheeks red, his skin glistening, his chest heaving, but he was quick, much quicker, much stronger than Mia. Phoenix did not need a challenge, she did not need to get better, she just needed to do enough not to draw attention to herself. Her skin ran cold when she realised Emery was watching too, his face scrunched up in a scowl, his eyes dark and sharp. He tutted when he got close, his boots crunching in the sand, his hands clasped behind his back, and Mia started crying again, not even trying to keep fighting as Emery stared at them.
"You're done?" he asked, and Mia nodded, her face a tight wince, and Emery tutted again, those eyes growing colder and sharper. "Do you know what happens to slaves who don't want to train?" Phoenix heard that edge to his voice, that danger, but Mia didn't seem to. She cried louder, her head bowing, her shoulders shaking, and Emery tutted again, nodding towards the wall. "You do push-ups until I tell you to stop," he said. "Both of you."
Phoenix buried that sigh and that roll of her eyes as she dropped her sword and her shield. Her shoulders felt a little better without them, her back not aching as much, but that didn't last for long. She was sweating, her skin glistening, her heart racing harder and louder than it ever had before as she laid in the sand. Mia was a mistake, this was all a mistake and she had to find her way out of it, but then she felt that cramp in the back of her shoulder, her arm going stiff, her teeth grinding together as she fell, gasping, trying to stretch her arm out and ease that terrible burning, her eyes filling with tears.
"He's coming," Mia whispered beside her, a whisper that was more like a hiss, so urgent and strained.
Phoenix tried to straighten her arm, she tried to do anything but lie there, but nothing was working, and then she closed her eyes, trying to breathe, trying not to think of anything and just let go of that burning. She heard someone moving in the sand, unable to open her eyes to look, her face scrunching up in a wince, but then she felt a hand on her shoulder, the other pulling her hand and pressing into her palm, and Phoenix gasped, that burning growing, her eyes flicking open to glare at Mia, but the girl was watching the yard, her eyes big and wide, those hands on Phoenix beginning to shake. Finally that burning burst, Phoenix sighing, her forehead lining in a crease, and then Mia darted, throwing herself back down on the sand and doing her push-ups. Phoenix heard that crunch too, almost feeling him standing over her and glaring, and she gritted her teeth, following Mia, feeling each hair on the back of her neck stand on end. He tutted again, and this time Phoenix knew he was looking at her. She had to do better, she had to be smarter, and this was not helping.
"Break for lunch!" he shouted into the yard. "You two do fifteen more."
Phoenix felt the skin on her back soften when she heard him walk away. She would've sighed if she'd had the strength to and her chest wasn't heaving. Her hair was sticking to her, her arms burning, the back of her shoulder still stiff and throbbing harder with each one she did. She had to do better, she had to be stronger, there was no other way, but she did gasp when she was done, rolling onto her back and shielding her eyes from the sun. Mia took a bit longer, her face a deep, tight wince when she finally laid flat, her breathing so loud, and Phoenix stood, washing her face in water from a nearby barrel and letting it drip down her neck. She'd managed to run for twenty-two years, she could do this, she had to.
"I don't know how much more of this I can take," Mia whispered, and Phoenix stared at her. Just to hear her say that made Phoenix's heart so heavy, somehow it only made her spine weaken and her stomach burn. Phoenix did not have much to give, but she had a little, and she owed the girl something that was for sure.
"Only the strong get to eat," she said, and Mia looked up at her, that wince turning into a frown, her eyes blinking a little quicker almost like she was trying to keep up, but then Phoenix looked away, her hands gripping the sides of the barrel.
No one had taught Mia anything, why would they do that, didn't they care about her? Phoenix shook her head, knowing it would take too long to teach her herself and Mia wasn't family, so she nodded then, standing up straight and brushing the sand from her arms.
"You need to be stronger," was all she said, and she hoped Mia would listen.
Cassie laughed when she handed Phoenix another bowl of porridge, a light, easy laugh, her lips curled into a smirk.
"You look good, Woodlander," she said, and Phoenix felt her skin bristle. "Don't look at me like that, you're not special, Phoenix, did you think he'd go easy on you?"
Phoenix stared at her, seeing that steel, seeing those eyes so cold and sharp. "Can I change partners?" she asked.
"Emery handles the partners," Cassie shook her head. "You can ask him, but I don't think you should… and besides, you're not good enough to be paired with anyone else yet."
Phoenix knew she had to choose her next words carefully, so she thought on them for a moment. "I'm not going to get better if I keep fighting with Mia."
"You're where you're supposed to be," Cassie said, pointing her ladle at her, her hand on her hip. "It's good you want to get better, but you have time. Just focus on what's in front of you and the rest will come."
Phoenix almost tutted then, she wanted to, knowing she had everything else in the world but time and she was running out of patience. She took her bowl, not saying another word as she went to join the others at the table. Belfire's bowl was already empty, his eyes fixed on the sand out in the yard, his forehead lining in a crease. Mia didn't say anything either, only taking a big scoop from her own and putting it in his. Belfire smiled at her, only a small smile, only a sad one, and he let out a soft sigh through his nose when Boris shared as well. He gave them both a quick nod, already diving for his bowl, that smile on his lips a little easier than it had been before, but nobody smiled when it was their turn at dinner, Cassie jerking her head towards the tables, her face grim and tight.
"Move on," she told Boris, but Boris only stood there, his face scrunched up in a frown almost like he couldn't understand. Cassie slammed her ladle down on the table, her eyes sharper and colder than Phoenix had seen them before. "I said, move on. You're still new here, I get in," she nodded. "But slaves who share food get nothing. You'd better learn that quickly," she tutted when Mia tried anyway, pausing in front of Cassie's table and only leaving when Belfire tapped her arm, and Cassie sighed, shaking her head and handing Phoenix a bowl. "You won't be stuck with them forever, Phoenix, just keep it up."
Phoenix didn't say anything, only taking her bowl and joining the others. She almost wanted to tell Cassie that she wouldn't be stuck with any of them for long and that none of this really mattered, but that would only make herself feel better, so she sat down beside them, her heart a little heavier than she would've liked. She knew what it was like to go without food, she knew what real hunger felt like, and it was never an easy thing, not even when it wasn't yours and you were only watching someone else feel it. They had time before it would come for them, not long with the way they all had to train, but a little. But that didn't make it any easier to eat her food, her mouth all dry, her stomach burning, but she didn't have a choice, not really. She did not know which one of these meals here would be her last before she found a way out and she wouldn't be taking any of them with her.