Cardinal Tower (Trinity Central Book #1)

Chapter 17

I never realized how small Aria was until I saw her stand next to Grayson. He stood about an inch over six feet tall, the same height as Hunter and Sawyer, just without as much muscle. While watching him throw knives earlier, I could tell that what he lacked in brawn, he made up for in skill, agility, and focus. Even if he didn't have the same strength as the aforementioned fighters, he did have enough to lift Aria with one hand.

As he walked towards the sparring square, he moved with purpose, every stride showing just how light on his feet he actually is. His buzzed haircut makes his narrow eyes look ever more intense. The way he stands with his feet parted and his hands held one in front of the other shows that he's fought before, the knowledge that he's a criminal makes me think that fighting was necessary for his old life.

During dinner the previous night, I was able to observe the three unfamiliar prisoners. Cynthia and Aster both looked cautious and demure, they acted friendly with other initiates, and they fought without too much ability. Their crimes couldn't have been more dangerous than they were. The same could be said for Grayson, though I'm sure his crimes are more serious than theirs.

Aria is the complete opposite. She was quiet and vulnerable. When she stood atop the sparring square, she was visibly shaking. She stood with her knees together and her ankles apart, her arms trying to mimic Grayson's. She was by far the youngest trainee in the facility, being at least seven years younger than everyone else.

She stood at barely above four feet tall, her white ponytail brushing against her bony frame with each step she walks. People were whispering things in disbelief, making jokes about how quickly the match will turn out, how Jacoby won't be able to assess either of them properly. Based on looks alone, I'd agree with them, the size difference was insane. Little did they know, I think that these two fighters may be on par with each other.

As much as I fear for the child's well being, this match intrigues me quite a bit. I find myself leaning forward a bit to adjust my view of the sparring mat.

Aria looks around before the round starts, her eyes growing with every person she saw. Eventually, her gaze finds me sitting in the back. I offer her an encouraging nod, and her face softens, a faint smile falling on her lips. Jacoby blows his whistle and the fight is underway.

Grayson jumps around before. He starts throwing swings with enough control that tells me he's done this before. Aria shifts her weight between her feet, watching Grayson fidget. His expression is serious; something tells me he won't be going easy on a little girl. Somewhere between the hopping and the shifting, Grayson throws a punch aiming for Aria's head. Her eyes bulge and she bends to one side, hiding behind her hands, and trying to avoid getting hurt.

She moves a bit too late and his fist connects with her shoulder. She stumbles back, grabbing her shoulder, and stifling back a wave of tears. Grayson moves closer to her, throwing another punch with his other hand, this time aiming lower. When she shifted earlier, it put her in the perfect position to take the next hit head-on.

His arm was bent at ninety-degrees, and his body pivoted on his right side so that his body was facing the class. The fist lands directly at the center of her stomach, and she topples over, coughing on her hands and knees. Somehow, she's still managed not to make so much as a single peep, like she's accepted taking the beating. Grayson stands calmly, looking down at his helpless victim. With one last turn, he spins, lifting one leg, and slamming it on her back. The ax kick forced her on the ground with a loud thump, arms and legs spread out.

Grayson turns away and looks at Jacoby, who starts to lift his whistle to his mouth. Before he gets a chance to blow, I hear a sob, followed by a loud scream. Aria has shifted her arms and legs slowly, still not being able to move all too well from the last blow. She curls into a ball, sobbing on the ground, her forehead pressed to the mat. As tears pool around her, and her sobs grow louder, so do her screams.