(Azaria 'Ziya' Point of View)
The morning of my fight arrived, leaving me more anxious than I'd expected. I hadn't seen Aniyah all morning; she was preparing for her own fight, and I felt the weight of our shared journey pressing down on me. This battle wasn't just about proving myself—it was a step toward the freedom I so desperately sought.
I dressed in all black, pulling on combat boots that had seen many days of training. My hair was braided back in cornrows, a style that kept it out of my way and reminded me of my roots, my strength. The arena, dimly lit by flickering torches, was charged with anticipation. The stone walls seemed to close in, creating an intimate yet intense atmosphere that made my heart pound.
