So You Might be Soulless

22|| Darkness

Trigger warning ⚠️ : very brief mentions of sexual assault. Please proceed with caution.

"My skills?" Diya feigned ignorance, pressing a hand to her chest. "General Carnell, I do not understand what you mean."

"Do not insult my intelligence, recruit. I have heard rumours of the skills you displayed, and I am curious to see them play out."

Yep. One-hundred-and-fifty percent screwed. Diya smiled tightly at the determination blazing in Carnell's eyes.

"Of course you can, General." Diya eyed the other slugs milling about like lost chickens who couldn't find their way home. "Which one of you is suicid– I mean, wishes to challenge me?"

Mumbled erupted over the borders as several people wisely stepped back. One small group tried to shove a woman to the front, but she pushed them away and cowered behind the crowd.

"Come on!" Diya spread her arms wide, a maniacal smile spread across her face like a disease. "You all were quite chatty earlier, huh? Why so silent now?"

"I will challenge you!"

Diya slowly turned to see a young man- possibly the same age as the Second Prince- step forwards into the makeshift ring. He was muscular and fit with floppy brown hair that swept just above his eyes, but had the sort of face that was easily forgotten as soon as you looked upon it.

"Your name?" Diya asked, accepting the wooden sword that was handed to her with only the slightest disgust.

"Lord Adarlic Miller," he replied, puffing out his chest and taking a step forward. "I will enjoy beating you, commoner filth."

"You're holding your sword wrong."

Flushing, Miller adjusted his grip. "Go to Hell, Reject."

"Sure. Meanwhile, why don't you get a headstart?" Diya lunged, lips quirking in a smirk when Miller leaped back.

I can't showcase my talent too much otherwise Carnell will get suspicious. She thought, taking a step back and twisting her wrist around in an obviously rookie mistake. Although it greatly wounded her pride, she allowed Miller to make precisely one hit on her arm.

"Hah!" he yelled, eyes alight with arrogance. "I can't believe they hired someone as stupid as you to–"

"Keep the talking to a minimum, recruits," Carnell called, prowling the edge of the fight like a cat stalking its prey.

What should I do?  Diya thought, sidestepping a clumsy charge and tapping Miller lightly on the back- enough to send him stumbling away. What should I do?

A face appeared in her vision- dead, soulless eyes with blood trickling from the corner of pale lips. Hands flicked into gestures that spelled out one of many lessons she knew too well. Never be a pawn in someone's game of power.

Diya's eyes caught a sharp glint and she tilted her head to the window of the Crown Prince's study. The sun briefly disappeared behind a cloud, but she could have sworn she saw a glimpse of floppy blue hair.

Her mind raced through the endless possibilities as Miller made another hit on the side of her right arm. Diya's grip slackened on the sword, which her opponent took as a sign of weakness. His lips quipped in a cruel smirk, muttering taunting words that blurred into unintelligible babble to their intended victim's ears.

If I showcase my true talent here, it will never end. Diya thought, blocking another strike. They will hound me. I will never be able to escape this life.

Obviously, that could never be an option.

Swallowing the thick knot that settled in the base of her throat, and the last scrap of her self-respect, Diya allowed Miller to swing his sword wildly across her face. Her head snapped back and blood spurted from her nose. In an almost melodramatic fashion, Diya fell to her knees and tapped out.