The Fall of Shadows

Chapter 2: Renna

Chapter 2:

I scan the fighters lining the training rink-purposefully making eye contact with each and every one of them. You're strong, I tell myself, you're fine. Suddenly I'm back in the arena, attempting so desperately to stay on the surface and maintain my fighter stance.

"C'mon Renna!" I hear one of them cheer

I've been back for three days. The medical wing of the Combs decided my head injury wasn't life-threatening, and since I'm the biggest money-maker, the doctors practically pushed me out to begin training again.

"Let's go," chants of encouragement start echoing off the walls of the training chambers. Although we beat each other up on a daily, and I'm not close with any of the other fighters, there is a cycle of empathy that dwells here. A part of me wants friends, to have someone to laugh and make memories with. But every time I begin to want that my heart lurches. I told Eenick this once and scoffed at me, You even need friends. So instead of making conversation I spend a lot of time alone. Time that could be spent socializing I spend envisioning. Envisioning a victory so successful it gets me out of here. A victory that serves the Empire.

Excellently skilled fighters sometimes get taken out of the Trife and placed in military squadrons. That's where I want to be someday. General Renna.

Although I'm tempted to keep laying on the mat, splayed out like one of the flatbreads that I just ate for lunch, the chants of my fellow fighters are getting to me. Motivating me. I sit up. Silver axe clenched in my fist. I stare across the mat at my opponent.

"Don't make it like last week!" Red creeps up my cheeks as my mind wanders back to the arena one week ago. I don't lose fights like that. I go out with a blast-not a weak punch to the head by some narc like Cyrus.

Well now I'm mad.

Instead of letting my embarrassment show, I school my features into calm as I stand up. Spreading my feet until their shoulders width apart, and with a deep breath look my competitor dead in the eye. Ep. If that is really her name. I know her well enough-although I don't fight in her events, and she's never particularly stood out enough for me to want to watch her. We came into the Trife at the same time eight years ago, but she had different owners and a different trainer. I rack my brain attempting to remember the various bits of details I can recall from her fights. She's muscular. That's how she knocked me down in the first place. Sweat has gathered along the line of her auburn hair and her freckled skin glistens in the artificial light of the training chamber. Her hands are empty, I smirk, that was me. At the beginning of duel training I knocked her long sword from her hands so fast that it elicited some rather tender remarks.

I may not be as muscular as Ep, but she's not taller than me. No one here is. Except for the roided-up male fighters. They'll never admit to artificial enhancers, but no one gets that big naturally. We stand across from each other now, eye to eye. She slowly begins to prowl towards me, casting favoring glances to my right arm-the one still holding the silver axe. I would lunge, but that was how I got knocked out at the games last week. No, this time I'd let her come to me. Ep stops walking, and slowly cocks her head at me. A distraction-this isn't my first time. I sense it right before it happens, Ep lunges for my right side. Anticipating it, I spin away from her, as if her dance partner, grabbing her left arm as I go. Using my momentum I swing her around-and swipe my legs at her knees. She goes down, bringing me with her. The fighters on the sidelines are shouting and taunting as I pin Ep underneath me, silver axe placed delicately at her throat.

"That was actually pretty impressive"

"Thanks," I smile. Ep's hand taps the mat twice signaling she's given up.

I get off Ep, and extend a hand pulling her to her feet.

"You've gotten a lot stronger," she states, matter of factly.

I breathe a laugh, my whole body throbbing from soreness and aches, "Eenick has been working me hard on that the past couple months."

"Yeah well it's working," she looks me up and down in an assessing way "Eenick's doing something right then, your looks and height combined with muscle is going make you more of a fan favorite than you already are."

I stare at her, unsure of how to respond, "Yeah..well...I'm sure he's already thought of that". We're off the mat now, and a new pair of fighters have already started their duel.

"You can pretend to not know why you're a favorite, Renna," Ep looks at me with a pointed smile. She knows confrontation isn't my style. "But I didn't fight last week and I saw the bets. They like you. The stands, the citizens. The city of Mehlar sees you as their fighter".

I'm silent. I remember why Ep didn't fight in the games last week. Her owner took her out. A week before she had gotten into a fight with another fighter outside of the stadium. A bad look publicly, and she'd likely lost his sponsors a lot of money. She's also telling me information I already know. Eenick has told me a million times before. "You're my best fighter, Renna. The others have only parts of what you have. Some have looks, some have height, some have strength, but no one has all three". His hand had caressed my face when he'd said that, and I remember my confusion "But I'm not strong," I had responded. "Then we'll have something to work on." And work we did. Eenick had me up in the early dawn hours five days a week the past couple months.

"It's the way you fight-I think," Ep continues "You aren't choppy, you have a sense of grace to your fighting that the others lack."

Like dancing, I think. Ep tilts her head-expecting me to respond. I bite my tongue. I don't want Ep to know everything about me, my fighting style or mental tactics, "When you fight-there's a certain sense of theatrics," I hear Eenick cursing me out I tell Ep his advice to me, "You have to give the people what they want. There's a certain energy, certain steps that make a good fight. Similarly to dancing."

I cut myself off there. We are standing at the edge of the water spout, each looking casually enough. Fighters from different owners aren't typically supposed to socialize with one another. And I don't usually socialize with anyone. I feel my hands begin to get clammy and I look around wearily, unsure what Ep will say, if she will say anything.

Ep stares awkwardly, when I don't say more she shakes her head, "Alright then-"

"Wait," I say, a little too desperately, just before she can fully turn around to leave, "Will you be fighting this week?"

She smiles, "Maybe, that depends on whether Kela thinks I've been on good behavior for long enough".

"Well maybe I'll watch it," a small smile on my lips.

"Maybe I'll throw in a few dance moves just for you", she flashes a smile at me.

I smile, unsure of what to say next.

"I'll see you later Renna," she fully turns and walks away.

I turn to the training stadium as well, a small smile on my face. When all of a sudden it falls. Standing in the exit that I'm supposed to take is a man, his sandy blonde hair gelled carefully across his head and a stern expression hanging on his face. I'd know him anywhere. His voice, his facial expressions. Friends are unnecessary in your line of work.

"Looks like you're having a good afternoon," Eenick purrs, his stern face adorned with a frosty smile.