Janus left just when the first one-on-one for this session started. Apollonia did not say who would be fighting today, but we could all guess who it would be.
The first fight was relatively brief between the two, with the older warrior emerging victorious at the end of the session. The next angels went up against each other, and after that, it would be my turn.
I didn't feel scared, but my wings were trembling slightly, which was annoying. It was clear that my body was nervous, even though I wasn't. I didn't want to feel afraid; I needed to start this on a positive note. Confidence was essential as I prepared for what was about to happen.
My breathing hitched for a second when the older warrior smashed the other into the ground. The other warrior managed to maneuver out of their grasp to land a few blows.
It went on for a long time, and the fight started to drag out. Throughout the whole time, my body could not stop shaking.
The fight soon ended with the older warrior pointing their Branchie right at the other's armored chest. They slumped over, nodding to each other with respect as they went back to their lines. Apollonia went up to get the next two up, and that included me.
A hand landed on my shoulder, making me turn to Arthur, who was beside me.
He gave a soft, encouraging smile. "You got this!"
It seemed as though he had taken my hopefulness and used it against me. All I could do was smirk and nod at him. I squeezed his hand, which was holding mine, before I let go. He nodded back at me, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Casper whined but remained in place when I signaled for him to lie down. He didn't lie down, but he did watch me as I walked away.
I stood across from the larger warrior. They had a bit of scuffed-up armor and some black hair peeking out from their helmet near their neck. Other than that, I could not tell what they looked like or what gender they were. That wasn't the point, though; the point was to fight them and win.
Apollonia nodded to the two, spreading her wings to block it off as she gave the same rules we heard everyone before a fight. Her wings dropped, and we were allowed to start our fight.
I stood my ground, moving in a stalking manner. The older warrior mirrored my movements until we were just a few feet apart. I wasn't sure how to initiate the fight. I found myself wrestling with my inner turmoil, torn between my fear of the impending battle and the need to focus on it.
So, I waited, ensuring my mind remained clear to focus on the enemy. I hoped they would attack first, and when they finally did, I felt a moment of relief. However, that fleeting happiness quickly faded as they zipped to my left, aiming to strike my unguarded side with their Pedal. My breath caught in my throat, and I stumbled backward, tightening my grip on the Branchie.
Of course, these more experienced warriors would take my moment of hesitation and weakness to strike. I held my ground, flying under their striking blade and pushing my own up against it. The long, deafening string of sound made my ears curl and wings tighten. I found my ground on the other side, unscathed.
This time, we both rushed each other with the same speed and determination.
Our Branchies attacked relentlessly. Every strike aimed at my chest or my armored legs was blocked. Each blow had the same force behind it, pushing me back with every hit. I could tell they were using this tactic to gain the upper hand. I needed to escape this situation before I found myself cornered and trapped.
I held off the Branchie from head and dug my feet into the dirt. I gritted my teeth, feeling their strength overpower me, and I was forced to my knees.
Still, I took this moment of stillness to seek a way out.
My eyes slid over to the open space behind them, and my wings flinched and quivered when an idea struck my mind. With my head low, I let the older warriors push me away before I quickly hit my helmet against their own.
They flattered me, stepping back to adjust their helmets with a look of dazed confusion. The pain was brief, as I opened my wings and shot up from my corner. My wings twirled, allowing me to land behind them and back into the open space. My Pedal was just as they lunged at me again.
They struck near my side, where the Pedal was not protecting me. I buckled under them, my wings flapping out in a spray of feathers before I rolled away.
I gripped the dirt with my hand to stop myself from falling farther away. I looked back up to see them dashing over to continue their rampage. I raised Branchie, deciding that I would be the first one to strike this time.
The older warrior defended with their Pedal, pushing me back and almost knocking my sword out of my grip. I held harder and lashed back down at them. It was stronger. The thrust sent the Pedal away from their body but not out of their grip.
Their chest was now exposed, and I quickly raised my leg and pushed hard against them. They flew back, opening their wings to avoid crashing into the ground. They looked up, eyes blocked by the shadow of their helmets. It was silent; only my own panting could be heard as we looked at one another. To my surprise, the older warrior threw their Pedal to the side and stood back up.
They smirked, tilting their heads to the side, and shifted their Branchie in both hands. "I don't need that to defeat you." Their voice was hoarse and hard, deep and truthful.
The male warrior shifted and took a firm stance. The movement of the older warriors in my peripheral vision indicated that their decision was unexpected. The atmosphere around us filled with my excitement as a fresh choice emerged, breaking the monotony of the repetitive actions we had witnessed in previous sessions.
Not counting Arthurs…
My train of thought was pushed aside when I had to block their Branchie from striking my legs. I tripped slightly, my wings coming out to catch me, but the man was relentless with his hits.
Soon enough, my Pedal was knocked away with a hard blow, completely throwing it away from my grip. I looked at it before turning back to him, the still smirk was on his lips.
Instead of speaking, they rushed forward with their weapons raised and ready. I gritted my teeth and growled, thrusting forward with my own weapon. I charged at him head-on, struggling against his strength that threatened to overpower me. He seized the opportunity, sending me flying away like a fly. He ducked and kicked below my ankle.
I landed on my side, rolling away from the Branchie, only inches from my face. I slid away from him, my wings picking up in beats before I forced myself into the air.
The male looked up at me, his legs shifting as he took in the new challenge. Still, he opened his wings and leaped up after me with the weapon out and clashing. I had seen many of the other older warriors do this when training and going against us in these past sessions. They used their wings to dodge and avoid, pushing themselves out of difficult situations.
It was also true with Rory. You can use your wings to heighten your speed and escape the grasp of an attacker.
The older warrior took the bait, moving closer to me. I quickly spread my wings horizontally to catch the wind and pushed myself away. In an instant, I was no longer above the warrior; I was now right beneath him.
The movement was so swift that it caught him off guard. I seized the opportunity, curving my Branchie to strike against his armored feet. He stumbled in surprise, his wings flapping frantically as he fell back onto the grass. I followed him down, driving my feet into his chest to push him into the dirt below.
He had no time to react, his back crashing into the dirt with his arms open wide and wings sprawled out. I raised my weapon above his head, ready to land a winning blow away from his head-
I was pushed off the enemy, thrown onto my back with a man closing his legs around my hips as I tried to wiggle myself free. He dug his knees into my side, pain crushing against my form. My eyes shot open to see the man in uniform take out a knife and throw it towards my head.
I moved to the side, raising my hands to grab onto him before he could kill me. He tried to thrust it forward, gritting his teeth with his eyes blocked by the disfigured cap.
I pushed harder, no longer fearing for my life, fueled by a sudden surge of energy. I managed to wiggle out of his grip on my hips, thrusting my body forward and sending him up and over my head.
With his body half off mine, I twisted the knife from his hand and into my palm. I didn't think—I thrust the sharp weapon directly into his abdomen, which was within my reach. He screamed and pushed away from me, clutching his side as blood began to seep through his trembling fingers.
Something inside me burst, and anger ran along my skin; hatred reflected in my eyes. I jumped from the ground to straddle him. His blood on my knees pushed deep into his gut, and the screams of desperate pain just grew louder when I thrusted the knife into his chest.
His hands came out to try and pry my hands away from him, away from the knife.
But I felt the strength leave him, and the life in his body, growing frantic, ultimately became fruitless. It did nothing to stop me. It did not stop the thirst to continue my rampage.
I dug the blade into his chest over and over again. Blood sprayed against my skin, my face, my clothing, my hair. It became part of me, his bodily fluids covering me from the frenzied thrusting of the blade deep into his chest, his neck, his face.
I didn't know when I stopped.
The light peaked, and the blood soaking my skin sank even deeper into me. I was sitting on top of his lifeless form, the bloody blade still tight in my grip. The man's face was unrecognizable, his bones from his face ripped-up and shredded apart, wholly covered with his own blood.
I could do nothing but stare.
I should look away, I should stop the tears and the heat rising in my throat of a bile vomit threatening to escape.
I continued to tell myself that it had to be done.
I had to do this; he was the enemy. He would have done the same. I was defending myself from the enemy.
I-I did what I had to do..
Even though I told myself that over and over again, I could not stop the hatred and disgust from what I had just done to this man.
My vision flickered, and suddenly I found myself above the warrior I was battling. I nearly choked, my fingers trembling around the weapon. The blade glinted in the sunlight, reflecting back at me.
Suddenly.. I could not move. I could not think.
The warrior below me thrusted his leg up, with his knee meeting my leg. I bucked backwards, tumbling onto the ground. My mind was still racing, the blood all over covered my eyes, and my own hands-
The man forced his foot into my face, pushing me further backward and into the dirt. I collapsed, my face burning as the metal scraped against my skin. I coughed in the aftermath, trying to steady myself to stand back up. However, blood was everywhere, covering my eyes and obscuring my vision.
I could only try and strike back blindly, breathing hard and quick while I swung the Branchie around in hopes of warding the warrior off.
Everything I had done was in vain. I felt a sudden rush of air through my hair before I was struck hard in the gut. My mouth opened, but no air came in; I was gasping desperately for breath. I staggered, my legs buckling beneath me, and the Branchie slipped from my grasp. Instead of trying to retrieve it, all I could focus on was the struggle to breathe.
My hands scrambled to hold onto my throat, coughing and shaking to try and catch onto something.
My vision was blurry, but I finally caught a glimpse of the shimmer from the Branchie that the older warrior held. It came at me, and I felt powerless to spread my wings, which merely bristled in protest and fear.
The Branchie did not come down at me, my legs gave out, and I fell to my knees with my head hung low. I took this moment to gasp for air; I needed to breathe.
I slowed my thoughts enough to ignore the stinging pain in my aching chest and cheek that felt cold against the protective metal armor.
I thought I was done, that the older warrior would leave me now that I am down without a weapon. But I felt a cold presence take my chin and force my head up. The helmet slid away from my eyes, the view finally coming in so I could take in my surroundings.
The older warrior stood in my way, his Branchie raised so that the tip held up my chin, preventing me from looking down. I couldn't help but cough, my throat constricting pathetically, and tears blurred my vision, adding to my confusion.
"Alright enough!" Apollonia's loud voice crashed into my senses. The cold metal pulled away from my skin, burning in my chest became more apparent, and I let my head fall back down.
Her voice was loud and demanding, and steps made their way over to us as a new voice came in. "Put your Branchie away, Axel. Now." The sheathing of a sword and the steps softened before they ceased. "You have won. Leave it at that and help your opponent up."
A deep voice sighed, and I finally managed to let go of my neck, allowing a shuddering breath to escape. It still hurt, stinging as it rose before fading into numbness in my chest. I looked up, tears in my eyes, but they quickly dried when I met the gaze of my opponent.
His black hair hung across his face, and his dangling bangs clashed with his dark brown eyes. A smirk persisted on his creased face as he extended his hand towards me. "No hard feelings," he shrugged, closing his eyes briefly, causing his smirk to widen even more.
This time, I couldn't hold back a growl. I glared at him, but he just brushed it off with a nonchalant expression. I knew it would look bad if I rejected his "helping" hand; refusing would make me appear like a sore loser. I hated the look in his eyes and the sting in my chest from where he had hit harder than he should have. The punch had gone right through my defenses as if they were nothing; it was still stinging when I moved to accept his hand.
He pulled me up, his hand tightened to the point I winced under my breath.
When I was on my feet, he pulled my hand out of his and took my own helmet off. I still kept a hand on my side, moving my eyes from his stupid smirk, and walked back over to my line.
"That was uncalled for. And you know it." Ardens' voice was stern from behind me.
"Apologies." His voice replied, muted and devoid of emotion.
"Don't let your ego cloud your honor and the honor against others again." Arden dismissed the conversation, and I quickened my feet over to the line.
Arthur approached, with Casper right beside him. Casper raised his hands in an attempt to comfort me. I winced and pulled away, while Casper whined in concern. I avoided making eye contact with the shorter male, afraid he would notice the remnants of my tears.
"You.. you did good, Vienna! You fought hard, even if you didn't win-"
"Shut up." It was hard, I hissed it out harder than I meant to.
I immediately regretted my decision when I noticed the slight tug of his hand and the way his eyes flickered away in retreat. Pain was etched on his face in response to my dismissal. He moved, ducking his head as his wings curled up around him, almost as if to provide himself some comfort.
I should apologize. Say something, anything to make it evident that I didn't mean to say that-
But I did. Didn't I?
I wanted him to shut up, to leave me alone and let what just happened sink in.
I wanted to say that.
My body trembled as I hid my face with my wings, ignoring Casper's whines, my head hung low and my shoulders tense. After these revelations about my harsh tone, I realized that I did not regret it.
Since Arthur did, in fact, shut up.