Bound by Glass

15| Swords And Crossbows

Mot and I were alone in the storage room.

"Where did..." I started hesitantly.

"Training room," Mot answered dryly. "It's the one from which you hear the sounds of screaming anguish, just for the hell of it. They call it 'training'." After Vace had left, he seemed to have relaxed a bit. I understood his reaction—Vace could be quite intimidating.

"I gather you aren't a fan?" I answered, levelling my gaze with the hacker.

"Nope. I'd rather work the code." With that, he shoved me out of the room. The door slammed shut and locked back into place.

Stranded. Great. I reached out to knock Mot's door and get directions again, hesitating when I heard a shuffle.

"It's left of Allie's room," I heard muffled through the door.

I smiled faintly and turned around.

There's the table in the middle. The green door was Aliyena's room. Left... I shifted my gaze to the black-painted metal door.

It was left ajar, and I only heard the sounds of a single pair of feet walking over the floor. No screaming anguish whatsoever.

I slipped through the doorway, allowing it to swing shut behind me. I let my gaze slide through the room, and I was greeted by a vast collection of various weapons. A whole wall of the gym was dedicated to all sorts of knives, swords, daggers, bows and other kinds of lethal instruments I didn't know anything about.

My own little dagger seemed out of place, compared to the massive broadswords I saw displayed on the wall.

All the blades seemed to be made out of regular iron, and not the Black Iron that was used for all of the Outsider weapons. That wasn't strange–Black Iron was the rarest of metals. Even we didn't get our hands on it half the time when we needed it. Still, it was odd for me to see all the light-coloured metal instead of the dark iron I was used to seeing.

The whole room was bathed in a bright white light, coming from multiple lamps in the corners. The floor was covered in mats, and my heel sunk in the material when I shifted my weight. The walls were made of grey concrete, and there was a single punching bag hanging from one of them

I heard a rush of air behind me. I swiftly turned on my heel, my hand shooting to the sheath on my hip... which was empty. I silently cursed myself—I had to get that thing back, I was practically defenceless without that blasted thing. Even then, I didn't have any other memories of my mother–it was my duty to get that back.

My eyes met Vace's, but that didn't do anything to calm my nerves. I still didn't have my knife. He seemed to have appeared from behind the punching bag–I didn't know how I could have missed him.

He stood on the soft floor, his sword at shoulder height, practicing movements and patterns. His back was turned to me. Slowly, he made fluid motions, circling around his axis, his sword following him flawlessly. The sharp point described circles and lines in beautiful, yet lethal, dance. His strong muscles moved like wires under his black collarless shirt.

He moved as gracefully as a cat, but with the deadliness of a jaguar. At least—if I got the animals right. I had never really paid attention in Pre-Globe History.

He commanded my attention as he suddenly lashed out with an incredible speed. As fast as a viper, he battled an invisible enemy, swirling the sword around like it was made of nothing. Before I could even think about how to defend against one move, he was already halfway his second.

Mesmerised, I watched him. Sometimes, he moved so swiftly, the sharp edges of his sword were blurred.

He abruptly halted.