Avery rose from her perch by the window, the weight of her thoughts seemed to follow her as she moved across the room, her steps slow and deliberate. She glanced once more at the moonlit gardens outside, as if seeking some reassurance from their familiar beauty, before drawing the heavy curtains closed.
She climbed into bed, the cool sheets a fleeting comfort against her restless mind. Closing her eyes, she whispered a silent prayer for strength and courage, for the hope of a better tomorrow. The uncertainty of the days ahead loomed large, but as she drifted into an uneasy sleep, a small part of her dared to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, things would turn out all right.
*****
The morning sky was caught in a liminal hue, a blend of deep indigo and the faintest touch of amber, hinting at the sun's imminent arrival. On the training field, three figures moved in tandem, the glint of their long swords catching the first glimmers of dawn. Each sword bore a wickedly sharp point, crafted for precision and lethality.
At the center stood a blonde woman, her hair tied back in a loose braid that swayed with her movements. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, betrayed no hint of fear as she faced the two others. One of her opponents was a curly blacked haired woman with a dancer's grace, her movements fluid and unpredictable. The other, a dark-brownhead, possessed a power and ferocity that matched her striking appearance. Together, they formed an imposing pair, but the blonde stood her ground with unwavering confidence.
The duel began without ceremony. The curly black-haired woman moved first, her blade slicing through the air in a feint aimed at the blonde's shoulder. Anticipating the move, the blonde sidestepped, her sword flashing upward to deflect the strike. The sound of metal meeting metal rang out, sharp and resonant, as the brownhead lunged from the opposite side, aiming for her midsection. The blonde twisted her body, bringing her blade down in a sweeping arc to parry the attack, her movements a seamless blend of speed and precision.
The two attackers pressed their advantage, alternating strikes to keep the blonde on the defensive. The curly black-haired woman's blade came at her in a flurry of thrusts, each one meant to test her defenses. The blonde responded with an almost preternatural calm, her sword a blur as it intercepted each attack. She pivoted smoothly, her feet barely disturbing the dew-kissed grass beneath her. The brownhead seized the opening, swinging her sword in a powerful horizontal slash. With a sharp inhale, the blonde ducked low, feeling the air hum above her as the blade missed her by mere inches.
The brownhead growled in response, her next strike fueled by frustration. The blonde met it head-on, their swords locking in a tense clash. Sparks flew as their blades screeched against each other. Using her opponent's momentum against her, the blonde shifted her weight and spun, breaking the lock and delivering a swift kick to the brownhead's side. The brownhead staggered back, momentarily winded.
The curly black-haired woman saw her chance and closed in, her strikes becoming more aggressive. She aimed a low slash at the blonde's legs, but the blonde leaped gracefully over the blade, using the momentum to deliver a downward strike. The black-haired woman barely managed to parry, the force of the blow driving her back a step.
Now, the blonde took the offensive. Her blade moved with blinding speed, a whirlwind of steel that forced her opponents to retreat. She feigned a thrust toward the brownhead but pivoted mid-motion, delivering a sharp upward slash that disarmed the black-haired woman. The latter's sword clattered to the ground, leaving her momentarily defenseless. Without hesitation, the blonde swept her leg out, knocking the black-haired woman off her feet.
Turning swiftly, the blonde faced the brownhead, who charged at her with a ferocious battle cry. The brownhead's attacks were powerful but reckless, each swing leaving an opening that the blonde exploited. She sidestepped a downward slash and brought her blade up in a counterstrike, the flat of her sword connecting with the brownhead's wrist. The brownhead yelped, her grip faltering just long enough for the blonde to twist the sword from her hand and send it skidding across the field.
Both opponents now disarmed, the blonde lowered her sword, a smile playing across her face.
A slow, deliberate clap resounded behind them, breaking the moment. "Not bad," a voice said, smooth and laced with quiet authority. All three women turned to see Vesper approaching, her sharp features illuminated by the golden light. She had been watching silently, her arms crossed as she observed their duel.
"You've indeed gotten so much better, Valeria," Vesper said, her gaze settling on the blonde with an approving smile.
Valarie dipped her head slightly in acknowledgment, though her grin held a playful edge. "Better, you say, my princess? Last I checked, I'm the best among us." Her tone was light and teasing, her confidence radiating with every word.
Vesper chuckled softly, a sound that carried both amusement and challenge. "The best, you say? Care to prove it?"
Valeria's grin widened, but her voice was respectful as she replied. "It would be an honor, Your Highness." She stepped forward, gesturing for Selene and Daphne to clear the field. The two dark-haired women exchanged knowing glances before retreating to the sidelines, their expressions a mix of anticipation and excitement.
The field grew quiet as Valeria and Vesper faced each other. Both women drew their swords, their movements deliberate and precise. The air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken energy, the weight of their shared history and mutual respect lending gravity to the moment.
Valeria struck first, her blade slicing through the air in a swift, calculated arc. Vesper met the attack with a fluid parry, their swords clashing with a resonant clang. Valerua pressed her advantage, her strikes relentless and perfectly timed. She moved with a grace that was almost otherworldly, her blade a blur as it sought openings in Vesper's defense.
For a time, it seemed Valeria had the upper hand. Her speed and precision kept Vesper on the defensive, her attacks forcing the princess to give ground. But Vesper held firm, her movements calm and measured, her emerald eyes never leaving her opponent.
Then, in a moment of perfect timing, Vesper shifted the momentum. She sidestepped a particularly aggressive strike, her blade darting out to graze Valeria's wrist. The touch was light but unmistakable, a clear reminder of her skill. Valeria's grip faltered for the briefest of moments, but it was enough for Vesper to press her counterattack.
The duel became a dance of equals, each woman pushing the other to their limits. Their swords clashed and sang, their movements a blur of precision and power. Sweat glistened on their brows as they fought, their breaths coming faster but their focus unyielding.
Finally, they broke apart, both women breathing heavily as they regarded each other. A slow smile spread across Vesper's face, mirrored by Valeria's.
"A draw, then?" Valeria asked, her tone light but tinged with respect.
"A draw," Vesper agreed, lowering her sword. "But only for today."
Valeria laughed, the sound warm and genuine. "I'll take it."
Vesper glanced at Valeria as she sheathed her sword. "Any news about the princes' movements?" she asked, her tone steady.
Valeria brushed a bead of sweat from her forehead, her expression turning serious. "In three days' time, they will be on their way to Eldrida."
Vesper remained silent for a moment, her gaze fixed on the horizon. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, almost emotionless. "Then we must make haste in our plan."