𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐕𝐄𝐑
────────── 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡; 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦
In a world where magic-wielders are prosecuted and branded with the punishment of death, the...
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THE VILLAGER COLLAPSED.
No one flinched.
With the fall of sacred sunlight assaulting their metal-plated backs, two Hunters stepped up onto the tar platform before us to tow away the limp boy, both his legs shattered. His moans died down as the young girl to my right scurried to replace him on the arena, in her hands a chipped axe thrice her weight. Her opponent, the grinning Hunter who'd struck down every other villager placed before her in the queue who were now clutching their wounds on a bench situated a couple of feet away, fingered the hilt of his sword almost contemplatively.
"State your name," the same male who had led the Hunters into the Capital ordered. He was off his beast of a horse now, though all the other soldiers, even the guards handling the castle, still bowed to him.
They addressed him as Captain.
"Mara Tayle, Captain," the girl said too softly. I furled my arms over my chest.
"You may begin," the Captain instructed, nodding at the villager. He knew she wasn't going to make it.
I could see the fear in the girl's eyes as she spun to greet the Hunter opposite her. He lifted a brow, gifting her the first strike.
It was never hard to predict the first move. As anticipated, she ran straight for his unguarded middle, the axe skimming across the arena floor with a wicked cry. She could have all the weapons in the kingdom and still end up a twisted, horrid mess.
The Hunter smirked, and the girl, like a flick of dust, was tossed backward, her spine colliding against the tar with a revolting, perturbing crunch. She didn't even have time to roll to the side when the Hunter's leaden boot met the fragile patch of her stomach, stamping down the last of her nauseating screams.
I was sure the entire castle could hear her.
My eyes roamed to the Captain, his expression unfathomable. Was he going to stop the soldier before he killed her?
My knuckles shifted to a bone-white as I crushed the fabric of my cloak in my fist. The Hunter gargled in laughter — the same laughter that had killed my mother.
I homed in on the swords buckled around hips.
"Enough," the Captain eventually interrupted, calmness sweeping his face. I snapped my eyes back to the scene.
The Hunter raised his foot, clearly unsatisfied, and the girl spluttered, incapable of even summoning the strength to shuffle away. The pair of men who'd hauled the boy away appeared on the platform again, their strong hands easily hoisting the girl's ruptured body. I could hear the bones crack.
The Captain waved them away.
He turned to me, the final contestant in this barbarous initiation.
"Name?" he asked. Rage singed my veins.
His brisk stare assessed me - assessed my appearance to judge whether I would be adept for passing his first test.
