Page 40 of Ava’s Legacy of the Dragons (Of Dragons, Love, and Destiny #1)

Acrowd of people noisily made their way down the steps to the arena. They chatted, laughed, kicked up dust, and seemed to be in high spirits.

Ava heard them but didn't look. Her gaze was fixed on the sand, the stakes, the stands, the iron chains. If she estimated the sun's position correctly, about two hours had passed since the stranger had brought her the tea. She didn't know how long in total she had been in the cage.

After he had left, she had practiced strikes with the dagger to familiarize herself with its weight and handling, had jumped to keep warm, and had continuously reminded herself why she wanted to get out of this arena alive.

Although the cup of herbal tea had long since been emptied and hidden in a corner, and although the wind blew mercilessly through the bars into her cage, hope had remained, along with an iron will.

She felt the gentle pulsing, as if the young dragon was nearby, but she pushed the feeling aside. She had to stay focused, wouldn't give up. She wouldn't passively react to what the sorceress had planned for her. On the contrary, she would actively try everything to fight for her freedom.

The spectators poured into the stands. Their conversations formed a monotonous background noise as Elora entered the arena.

The hem of her dark dress dragged over the sand and stirred up dust, yet not a single particle settled on her garment to dull the black.

With a harsh gesture, she ordered two of her henchmen to go to Ava's cage.

Arms spread wide, she looked at the audience taking their seats in the stands.

"Rejoice, for today you will witness a special spectacle.

The oh-so desperately longed-for first guardian in centuries will demonstrate to you that she is nothing more than a defenseless, weak woman.

A nobody on whom no sensible person should pin their hopes. Nobody who could be dangerous to us!"

She turned to Ava, a calculating smile on her lips.

"Let the games begin." She strutted to the section of the stands that was decorated with fabrics and chest-high candle holders, where there stood a chair with golden decorations no less ornate than those on the throne inside the castle.

Raising financial resources was obviously not a problem for the mages.

She took her seat on the ruler's chair and leaned back in a regal manner. Could she perhaps have noble blood in her after all?

Ava positioned herself at the edge of the cage and jumped up and down to get ready, to see what was going on, to know what to expect.

And to maintain her will to survive. If no one from the audience was cheering for her, she would have to do it herself.

She wouldn't let herself be discouraged. Whatever was planned, she would—

The main gate of the arena opened, and a man entered the fighting grounds who looked more ordinary than she had felt before her conversation with the stranger. He wasn't particularly tall, his body not particularly strong. But the loud cheering of the spectators warned Ava not to underestimate him.

He had shoulder-length dark brown hair that he had tucked behind his ears, a pale complexion, and a narrow upper body draped in a midnight blue cloak with gold embroidery that reflected the sunlight.

He ran to the center of the arena to the sound of thunderous applause. The spectators jumped up, clapped, and cheered. A chant traveled through the rows, and everyone present joined in.

"Arthur! Arthur! Arthur!"

Since he looked downright scrawny, it must not have been muscle power that he was there to show off. No, it was probably his magical powers that excited the audience.

Her opponent raised his arms and the applause grew even louder. All the same, Ava heard the soft clicking sound as the door to her cage was unlocked. Her helper was right. She couldn't just react. She had to take action if she wanted to survive.

She stepped out of the cage, holding the dagger in one hand. The mage looked at it with a snort. The Isip stone, which she had wrapped around the handle with the leather strap, disappeared under her palm.

"A blade? That's what you want to take me on with?"

"Better than nothing."

Ava didn't take her eyes off him, her fingers hooked around her weapon. She walked towards him, then stopped a few meters away and observed him.

When he made no move to rush at her, she braced herself for a supernatural attack—which promptly ensued.

He raised his hands, muttered something, and kept his gaze fixed on her.

A hazy sphere formed between his palms, barely as big as a fist, that lightning bolts hissed through.

He drew back and threw the projectile at Ava.

Quickly, she raised the dagger. Before the sphere touched the blade, she managed to deflect it. With a loud bang, it landed at the edge of the stands and dissolved into thin air. The visitors sitting nearby screamed.

The mage narrowed his eyes as a murmur went through the crowd of spectators. "What kind of blade is that?"

"Not one that can stop a powerful mage like you, right?" She didn't know if it was wise to provoke him, but playing the frightened mouse didn't align with her newfound will to survive.

Arthur observed her, the arrogance still in his dark eyes.

He quickly raised his hands and formed another energy ball.

From its red color alone, it was clear that this projectile was different.

As he fired it at her, she brandished the blade, but this time she couldn't completely deflect the attack.

Part of the magic penetrated the blade and the weapon slipped from her hand.

She managed to grasp the handle with her left hand before the dagger landed in the sand.

This saved her life, for the mage had already launched the next attack.

Quick as lightning, a second fire-red bolt shot towards her.

The projectile flew unimpeded towards her chest as Arthur was already conjuring the next attack between his palms. She quickly raised the dagger.

Although the stone couldn't completely shield her from the magic, she managed to endure the impact without losing her grip on the weapon.

She even mostly deflected the next one, but a small part still penetrated her body this time.

It felt like electric shocks. Each time a lightning bolt hit the blade, they grew stronger and traveled further up her arm.

Eventually, they reached her shoulder and spread across her chest. It burned like fire.

With gritted teeth, she jumped from side to side to make it harder for the mage to hit her, but he remained highly focused and hurled one volley after another.

The people roared and cheered him on, but not all of them.

There were visitors in the stands who sat silently, looking at her with pity or wincing when she herself did so from the pain.

But they didn't intervene to help her. They didn't say anything either.

Ava couldn't afford to pay attention to them.

She tore her gaze away from the spectators, focused on her opponent, and ran to the side.

She dodged his attack, which gave her body a brief moment of respite.

The magic constantly hitting her was painful, hot, and glowing, as if these were needles of pure fire.

Without taking his eyes off her, Arthur conjured one magic sphere after another, threw them at Ava, and was already forming another while she dodged or deflected the projectiles. She didn't know how long he could keep this up, but her strength was clearly fading. She needed a solution.

She had to take action, just as the stranger had advised her.

Frantically searching for an opportunity, she looked around and ran towards the posts. Maybe she could use them. But before she reached them, Arthur muttered a binding spell that caused an invisible chain to wrap around her legs, which made her fall flat on her face in the sand.

She couldn't see what was binding her, but when she shook her feet, she was free again.

She scrambled to her feet, ran to a wooden post, hid behind it, and gasped for breath.

The mage ran after her and fired a magic bolt that crashed against the wood.

It splintered, and the upper part of the post broke off as if it were a paper straw.

Ava quickly jumped aside before she could be hit, but Arthur had been waiting for just that.

He hurled a binding spell at her back, which made her freeze on the spot.

Unable to move, she stood stiff as a statue in the middle of the arena, incapable of stirring.

Only her eyes darted back and forth desperately.

"What a pathetic opponent!" Laughing, Arthur turned to the audience, gesturing extravagantly to encourage them to cheer him on, and basked in the crowd's adulation.

At the same time, a tingling sensation spread through Ava's body as the spell fell away, but the mage didn't notice.

Ava seized the opportunity, grabbed the iron chain lying in the sand, and hurled it at Arthur.

He flinched back before the iron links could hit him in the face.

He glared at her hatefully as the iron chain turned to sand and trickled to the ground, pulverized.

Ava didn't wait for his attack. She immediately bent down, picked up a handful of sand, and threw it at him.

Bored, Arthur erected a protective shield that the grains bounced off of.

Ava immediately grabbed another iron chain and hurled it at him.

But before it could hit him, it transformed into fluffy feathers and floated aside.

At the same time, the mage formed a new lightning ball and thundered it at her.