A Wolves World

Chapter 20: The Beginning & The End

POV: Makayla

We stalked in a circle, waiting. The tension between us was quite electrifying. His violent blue eyes were a common trait in my family. Beautiful, intimidating, dangerous. They stared at me, focusing on my every movement. The plant of my foot. The turn of my hips. The angle at which I held my sword and where my eyes were pointing.

He decided to strike first. No matter how much he trained, even with me, he never mastered patience. It was a fairly common rule to not strike first. Psychologically, those that strike first feel that they are weaker and need to take any chance they can get. It demonstrates vulnerability and boy, was he vulnerable.

Easily I evaded his advance with a simple step and turn. Fighting, as I had learned from our highly skilled warriors, was much like dancing. The strong, swift movements of balance. Like waves. A push and pull of momentum and glory.

He set off into a pattern of lunges and swings. I deflected every attempt at my life. The ground beneath us shifted and clouded around us with the quick movements of our feet. He huffed in aggravation and based on the shifting of his eyes he was thinking of other moves or advances. Ones that, hopefully, I wasn't able to deflect. Due to his distraction, he wasn't able to weave away from the warning jab of my sword. The sharp tip of obsidian sliced through the taut skin of his bicep. As he recoiled from the hit, I skillfully and artistically swung the sword until it was back in its defensive position.

It had been a while since I'd felt such feelings. I've never been good at explaining how I feel. Sometimes, I can't depict what I'm feeling: excitement, surprise, or something as simple as happiness. Other Times, I can't feel, but I do at the same time. It's like something is blocking my emotions. Like a silencer on a gun. The hunter aims, draw back the hammer, then pulls the trigger. Nobody can hear the action, but it still happened and there are still repercussions. My mind is the target, and my heart is the gun, but I can't hear when it shoots. It's never been as bad as this before. Not even when I was distraught over Kylie's "death", and Vivian's "rejection". This was not what I was feeling at the moment. Or, well, what I'm not feeling. I feel everything.

The rush of fighting was exhilarating. My senses are on high alert due to the adrenaline that ran through my veins. The slight chance of death helped with that too. Yeah, normally when I'm dueling with Jordan it's not to the death. Still, the clash of metal, the strain of my muscles, the heat on my face traced with lines of cold sweat, all of it. It makes me feel alive. I was trapped in the castle as a child. Learning how to fight and be king with Jordan was all I had. It's all I've ever had.

I jumped back from his swing. We were too alike. Great fighters, but always got distracted over some thought or another. We were like yin and yang when we fought. If I swung, he would evade. If he kicked, I would jump. When he smiled, I smiled. For a moment, he was a young boy. Barely strong enough to hold up the sword and barely big enough to fit the smallest uniform. I was even smaller but the spirit between us was monumental. As alacritous as we were, my growth and power overruled his. Inevitably, I ran laps around him, flew them even. Yet, he was by my side anytime I needed him. I betrayed him, yes. But, in this situation, we are both victims. I betrayed him because he stole my kingdom.

The sweet child was gone. A man was left. He frowned, then looked at my hips, seeing what my next step was.

Our unrelenting advances created a whirling storm of dust. My polished boots as well as my leggings were quickly painted in dirt. His white clothes were ruined as well. Huh, maybe we are yin and yang. Either way, I can use the dust to my advantage.

Jordan had a horrible vision. For most of his life, he wore glasses, then contacts, then he kinda gave up. But, he was able to use his element basically as a seeing-eye dog. He could feel the spaces in the air. Where people or things occupy the space. From there he can create an image in his head of where everything is. He may not be able to create certain details or make out a person's entire face, but at least he won't walk into a wall or something. There are two reasons why the dust can help me. One, if I kick the dust high enough he will have an even harder time seeing, which may give me an opening. Two, if he is able to see and avoid my advances easily, that means he is using his power. Which automatically gets him disqualified. Like a fucking child's game. As silly as it is, it's a win-win. I get the crown and he doesn't die.