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“So the Lords and Ladies just guard the creatures trying to repopulate?” Sounds like the strangest sort of reason to guard someone. Were the Wraithlands really that violent to require an escort when venturing into the land?

“To my knowledge, yes. I’m not privy to the same information guards or Lords and Ladies are.”

She’s certainly made that clear over the past few moments. It’s best to not rely on Alyvia for important information, apparently. However she did slip that Lady Cirilla will be there with Lord Rowan. Perhaps the easiest way to show him how much I want his help is to go along with them. Or at least sneak away from the estate to follow them. If Lady Cirilla won’t be here to kill, then I’ll have to follow her.

“Keres?”

I turn to glance towards Alyvia, her face flushed and eyes wide. “Yes?”

Her voice comes out in a hoarse whisper, “Is this very different from Tellus?”

“This place is nothing like Tellus and its Districts,” I confirm, though a little thrown off by her question.

“Are we worse than what you fled from?”

No. Nothing I’ve seen or heard compares to the brutality and violence Tellus breathes into its citizens. While I’m sure Aïdes has its own issues, they’re vastly different from the ones I left behind. Everything is different here to the way mortals and Lords and Ladies act, to the way the people are divided amongst themselves. Here, it’s less about the ruler showing their strength and more about the people. “I don’t believe there can be a place more desolate and miserable than Tellus.”

“It sounds like our Wraithlands.”

“Then it’s a good thing you have Lord Rowan protecting his people instead of pitting them against each other out of boredom.” It makes me think of the Kyanite District and how it's run by the male version of Lady Gwenyth. Rumor has it he allows his immortals to exchange souls by drowning one another in the Serpentine Lake that protects the boundary of his kingdom. Once a soul has been exchanged, there is no peace for the one choosing to grow old, but a swift and harsh death.

If only he’d been my Lord.

The buildings around us suddenly elongate. Instead of doorways, there are arches beckoning people to wander inside. The smell of dirt and stale air hangs heavy the closer we get to a set of large archways at the end of the road.

As we bypass one of the open spaces, a familiar sound of metal striking hits my ears with loud, angry noises rising into roars and snarls that could be found on any battlefield.

“This is the arena?” I ask, looking around at a slightly altered version of the same alleyway all of the Blood City seems to consist of.

“It’s not an oval building,” Alyvia chuckles. “They’re meant to blend in, which includes the building.” She motions for me to follow her through an arch, close to where the alleyway stops, into a nondescript building.

Inside, the room opens into a large space. The hardwood floors are adorned with thin mats and sheets, while women in pants and blouses fight in various stages around the room. Some are in hand to hand combat positions with gloves and headgear, while others are slashing their swords into their opponents shield.

At first no one reacts to our presence. They’re all too busy in their training to take note of two women standing on the outskirts. But slowly, one by one, they pause in their sparring to turn in our direction.

A woman with blond hair tightly bound in a knot on top of her head steps forward. “What is the meaning of this?”

“This is Keres. She is a guest of Lord Rowan,” Alyvia interjects before I can speak as she addresses the room at large in an authoritative voice. “She wishes to spar with you.”

“We do not train beginners,” the woman scoffs.

“I’m not a beginner. You could say I’m having a hard time controlling my temper and need an outlet.” I shrug indifferently while resting my hand on the hilt of my sword. Everyone’s eyes in the room track the movement.

“We are too busy preparing for an assignment to coddle you,” she bites.

The corner of my mouth twitches in amusement. It’s been a very long time since anyone has thought to coddle me for any reason. “Perhaps you need a better introduction. I’m Keres Anderson, an immortal.”

The moment the words register, everyone seems to collectively suck in a breath and grin. Of course they want to spar with an immortal. They can’t kill me. They won’t have to hold back like they do when sparring against one another.

“Alyvia, we will see to it that Keres returns to the estate when she is finished,” the woman announces, a gleam twinkling in her eyes. “You are dismissed.”

Alyvia bows her head slightly towards the woman before looking at me. Quietly she says, “Please be careful.” She pats my arm and slips out of the archway we came through.

“I am Meredith,” the only woman who’s spoken so far says. “Are you sure you want to spar?”

After the rollercoaster of emotions hounding my body since arriving here, performing a natural task such as fighting seems like a great way to work off some steam. Not to mention analyze how they work as a unit or individually when it comes to protecting a certain Lady sitting at the top of my kill list.

Unsheathing my sword, I offer her the same feral smile I recall from the nightmares that plague me when the dark calls.