Page 97

Story: Dawnbringer

Aimee stepped back, jaw tight. Well, well. The brat had a little bite in her after all.Good. That meant this was about to get fun.

Aimee’s breathing was steady. Sweat beaded on her skin—a minor irritation. She’d sweat buckets if it meant finally winning against this bratty, arrogant, know-it-all loudmouth who had always monopolized all of Skylen’s time and poisoned him against her.

And she could—beather.

Not with brute force, not with this one. Talya met power with power, pride with pride. She didn’t bend—she dug in.

No, if Aimee wanted to win, she’d have to tip her off center.

They reset, stepping back into position.

Talya liked to talk. And if there was one thing Aimee had learned growing up in her stepfather’s house, it was how to use a well-timed word like a knife.

She shifted her weight, rolled her wrist once, and let her stance settle. “Do you remember anything?” she asked, tone light, like the question was an afterthought.

Talya shook her head. “Anything of what?”

And while her guard was dropped, Aimee lunged.

No warning. No pause. Just steel and speed and fury.

Their blades slammed together. Talya staggered, barely catching the blow. She recovered fast, but not fast enough—Aimee was already pressing forward.

“From before the fire,” she said, each word punctuated by steel.

Talya’s parry came late. Her stance wobbled.

“No,” she bit out, retreating again. “I was barely six when it happened.”

“And?”

Talya’s strikes turned sharper, more defensive. “And how much of your life do you remember from before you were six?”

Aimee knew the words weren’t meant to be wielded as a weapon. Talya wasn’t clever enough for that. They were thrown carelessly, like grenades. No aim. Just damage.

She told herself to stay steady, to keep control. But her jaw locked.

“Everything.”

She dropped to one knee, parried, and used the new angle to slice at Talya’s feet.

“I remembereverything!”

Every detail. Every moment. She’d replayed them so many times, she could see them with her eyes closed.

She’d preserved them in memory crystals—categorized, archived,sacred.

Aimee surged forward, blade flicking toward Talya’s hip. Not to land a touch, but to crowd her. She wanted space to vanish, to force Talya to scramble.

It worked.

Talya’s retreat came fast and awkward, a twist of shoulders, a narrow pivot. Her back foot landed near the edge of the platform, too close.

Aimee didn’t let her recover. She swept in again, feinting high. Steel rang against steel until Talya gave another step.

Her heels hovered just over the line now.

One more step, and she’d fall.

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