The Touch of Demise │18+

40: The Last Ribbon

GRACE

Espen did not take it easy on her. He lunged, his sword out, clashing against hers. The sound of steel hitting steel twisted in the air and in her gut. He was fast, but not faster than her when she had Demise's blood. They turned positions and for a moment, before he struck her so hard she saw stars, he looked guilty.

She stumbled back, a disgruntled yelp tearing from her lips. He didn't rest and once again he swung and then a searing pain tore through her arm. She was bleeding, and she knew she was bleeding, but even as she fell onto her ass, she reminded herself that she could do this. He towered over her, the point of his sword pressed under her neck.

Her sword lay flat beside her. "If I gave you a pretty smile, would you let me win?"

He shook his head, a small grin etched on his mouth. "Sorry."

"Then I am sorry, too."

An ounce of confusion fell onto his face and she used it to hook her arm around his thigh and twist them, forcing him onto his back and her on top. He regained focus quickly and they both rose to their feet again, sword against sword. Her braided hair swung as they sparred with one another.

He rushed toward her again, and she remembered that within all her training Goliath always said if you need help, you give them to me.  She didn't look over at Goliath because she knew he would be winning his match. She knew he was always the superior fighter.

She dropped her sword and her hands connected with Espen's chest as she pushed him across the field toward her friend.  She winced as she realized her aim was a little too good and Espen landed exactly on Goliath.

She picked up her sword and went over to where Goliath was pushing Espen off him. Her sword connected with his original opponent's and flicked it off her own. Ambrose stumbled back. She took a breath, the noise of the crowd filtered through her ears.

Ambrose lunged forward, and she moved to the side, connecting her sword with his. Her elbow met his back as she turned to face him again. He threw a punch as his sword fell to his side and she ducked and then countered, striking him hard. He stumbled back. His nose was bleeding. He must have grown angry because he returned his strikes far quicker than before.

Blood fell from somewhere on her face. She felt pain radiate through her head and caused her eyes to water. There was a yelp of pain to her side and she stole a glance at Rosalie fighting with Espen and she realized that just as much as this was a test for her, this was a test for Rosalie too.

She heard Rosalie's weapon fall onto the ground. Grace thought for a moment. Were her hand-to-hand skills as good as her sword skills? She'd argue that her hand-to-hand was actually better than her sword-wielding. So she launched her sword in Rosalie's direction. She didn't have time to look to see if she got to it or not. If Rosalie didn't then her throwing her sword to her was a very idiotic move on her part.

Ambrose grinned as he watched her de-sword herself. He attacked again, sword drawn and pointed. She used his momentum and placed her hand on his wrist, jumping up around him and onto his shoulders. She flipped him onto the ground.

All the words of Goliath echoed in her head. All the lessons and tasks he had her do to be a decent fighter. She remembered how Demise questioned her ability and her strength to train as hard as she needed to even be able to spar with them.

And then she remembered how Goliath looked at her today and told her how he had faith in her. She didn't want to fail him. She didn't want to fail this task. She wanted to go. She needed to go. For her pack. For herself. If she didn't go now, but if war came one day, she needed to be able to protect her mate, her friends, and her people.