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The Warriors power lay in his pure strength, his bulking mass and his towering height. All things that he was currently using. So if War could cheat and use his Saintly gifts in order to help him win, then West would use his as an advantage as well.

“CRIMSON!” He roared at the balcony, barely making out her red hair in his peripherals. “CLOSE YOUR EYES AND COVER THEM.”

West didn’t have time to make sure she listened to his command as he began to burn. He reached into the very center of himself and tugged on the light that made his russet skin gleam like a freshly fallen star. He wrapped his fingers around the flashbang that would ultimately blind the warrior and dragged it up into himself.

“You wouldn’t.” His opponent hissed through clenched teeth. If he looked close enough, he could spot genuine fear there. Something that West delighted in seeing.

“Oh,” West let out a low laugh, “You shouldn’t underestimate me, because I would.Happily, too. In fact, I think Iwill.”

He did.

West unleashed his magic, letting it sizzle into his skin until he became a glowing, incandescent thing to behold. The sun and the moon and the stars erupted through the surface of his flesh, blasting into the world. He heard a gasp from the balcony and prayed to himself, as well as the other five Saints, that she didn’t look. That she dove under the railing as he filled the entire arena with his brilliant powers.

War screamed in frustration and released his attack,stumbling back as he dropped his daggers and covered his face with both meaty hands. He stumbled back, searching blindly for a way to escape the fire bright room.

West could see perfectly fine through his own gifts, able to make everything out in perfect clarity. He didn’t need any help as he stalked towards the mountain of a man and lifted his sword up into the air. He didn’t dare dull his powers either as he brought it down, straight through his gut. Scarlet spurted, spraying him as he pushed it in even deeper but he didn’t care.

As he finally called his magic back into himself, he whispered, “Red Lyric is no longer on the roster for the Blades of Blood. Nor does he belong to the Pits, or you anymore. As of tonight, he belongs tome.”

The room fell and everything tumbled into pitch black.

Thirteen

She’d stayed for the entirety of the fight, even seeing it break out at the start. She’d heard his order, the commanding roar in it that stirred a deep part of herself. And she obeyed, dropping to the floor and covering herself with the balcony railing as she firmly squeezed her eyes shut. Crimson listened to every part of his order, clapping her hands over each eye and remaining like that through it all. Even in her crouched, cowering position against the stone barrier, she could still see the magnificent white light that tore through the entire underground pit.

It was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before.

Crimson stayed like that, curled like a mewling kitten in a ball on the ground, the ringing of metal on metal halting at last. But there was still that overlying shield of ivory that blasted through her. She couldn’t open her eyes without the fear of losing her sight forever.

A gentle set of hands timidly landed on her shoulders. The scent of moonlight on water and stardust filtered into her senses.How she knew what those things smelled like, she had no clue, but it was pleasant and comforting.

“You can open your eyes now, Heartstrings.” West softly said. “It’s over.”

Crimson untucked herself from the ball-like form and beheld him. There was blood splattered on his face, over his arm, stained into his clothes and he was hurt, on his left arm, high up. But other than those things, and the slight dishevelled look to his messy hair from the fight, he seemed to be in perfect condition.

“Good job on following my orders.” He offered her a hand and she took it. He hoisted her up to her feet, brushing the gravel from her shoulders. “It wouldn’t have ended well for you if you hadn’t.”

“For some reason I can’t quite explain, I trust you.” She explained. “I’ve never known you, and yet I would put my life in your hands time and time again.”

It was the way a blanket wrapped round frost-bitten shoulders in the middle of a harsh winter that refused to let up, of the way melted chocolate heated ones insides to the point of a cozy steam. It settled into her like an old friend that she had no idea she missed and Crimson realised that she trusted this man-Saint,completely, without reason.

“It’s part of being a Saint. Humans were supposed to trust us, to worship us, to look up to us. I’m sure if you met another, you’d feel the same towards them.” He elucidated as he exhaled, letting go of her and turning towards the staircase that would take them out of the Pits.

“No.” She shook her head in disagreement. “My father was a Saint. A full one too, and yet I never trusted him. I neverwantedto trust him. I’m glad I didn’t either, because he left us.”

West didn’t seem to have anything to say to that, other thana bend in his brow. “Let’s go to your brother, shall we? The longer we remain here, the less time he spends in the healing wards.”

Crimson almost leapt up the stairs at his suggestion, already ready to hand him over to trained professionals who could help him far better than she would ever be able to with the tinctures and small tasks that kept his fever at bay. There was a dollop of uncontained excitement that buzzed through her like a fast flying dragonfly on a summer wind and pond cattails.

Finally, she could get him the proper help.

“What’s he like, your brother?” West inquired as they passed through the nearly empty rooms of the tavern above ground. “I suppose it might be good to learn a thing or two about the two wards I’ll be taking under my wing.”

“He used to love swimming, and flowers. Every summer, on the few days that he felt good enough to be able to walk steadily outside, we’d go down to the riverbank and spend the entire day in the water. He loves the colourful fish that joined us, and the way the sun sparkled on the surface.” She told him everything regarding Cobalt, down to the way he looked when he first came out of their mother. The way that her heart felt as though it would burst when she held him for the first time.

“You must really love him.” He commented, sounding sorrowful for some reason. “To be doing everything you’ve already done in his stead. To risk everything for a fighting chance in the Blades.”

Even his features formed into dripping melancholy and she wanted to do nothing more than make them return to the glowing man she’d begun to know.