Page 4 of Wrath Of Suns And Shadows (The Osparia #2)
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” I said as my grip on the axe handle tightened, knuckles whitening against the dark leather wrap.
My hand burned and throbbed as I got into position, and so did Shay.
We circled each other for a moment, never taking our eyes off the other.
I saw not only the warrior who had bested me time and again, but also the mentor who had picked me up each time I’d fallen.
She lurched for me, and I leapt to the side, dodging her blow right before she came at me with another one.
I side-stepped, sand spraying from beneath my boots, as her sword sliced through the air where I had stood.
Another strike followed, swift and precise, but I parried with my axe, metal clanging against metal, sending reverberations up my arms. With a grunt, I pressed my advantage, forcing her to retreat.
Shoving her back, I made her stumble a few steps before water curled from my fingertips, wrapping around the pommel of my axe, extending its reach.
I swung it wide, the liquid chain slicing toward Shay.
But she anticipated the move, flipping backward, her agility keeping her just out of my water’s lethal embrace.
“No bending, Eme,” she commanded as she came for me.
Spinning close to the ground, she knocked me off my feet, aiming her blade at my neck.
“Try again.” She breathed, sweat clinging to her brow as her long box braids hung over her shoulders.
I pushed my hands into the sand and leapt back to my feet, calling my blade to me with the wind.
My brow furrowed with surprise, and Shay gave me a grin. I did it without even thinking.
“You’re getting it down, I see,” she praised, and I gathered my stance again, bringing my focus back to our battle. “Now, defeat me without your bending, Eme. You never want to have the lower hand in any combat.”
We fought until the sun went down. Every muscle ached.
My body was desperate for water to drink.
My side was gashed open from taking a hit with Shay’s blade, and it still leaked on the front of my leathers.
I was covered with small cuts and bruises, but I’d heal them up once I made it back to our camp.
My hair was a tangled mess of silver, sticking to my neck and forehead as sweat dripped down my back.
I hadn’t won a single battle against her without my bending.
She looked a little better than I did, but she hadn’t made it out unscathed.
Her braids were in a messy updo on her head, cuts and bruises lined her dark brown skin, and I could tell she was just as tired as I was.
Although I hadn’t beaten her, I had given her a run for her coin.
I wanted to fall to her feet and beg to stop. But I couldn’t.
I wouldn’t.
I had to succeed.
So I straightened my spine, gritting my teeth against the pain that laced through every fiber of my being. I took a deep breath and got into position.
“Again,” I commanded, feeling pain radiate through my very bones. My side throbbed with the beat of my heart pounding in my ears. I wasn’t sure how much more I could take, but I couldn’t stop. Shay had wanted to call it a day three rounds ago, but I’d refused.
“Emelyn . . . you have to stop going too hard. You’re going to kill yourself.” She panted through her words. “We’ve done enough today.”
“Again,” I demanded, not taking no for an answer.
I lunged to my left to trick her, and she fell for it, swinging her blade in that direction I twisted on a knee to block her blow and swung my axe, slicing into her thigh.
She fell to a knee with a groan. I went to grab her, but she punched my wounded side, and it took my breath away.
Wheezing, I fell over, clutching at it, and threw up what little contents I had in my stomach from the pain.
When I shifted my body over on to my back, Shay was standing above me, holding her blade at my throat.
She’d won . . . again.
“Enough,” she shouted. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because—”
“Because why, Emelyn?”
“Because I’ve never been enough!” I screamed loud enough to scare the birds from the trees as I rose to my feet. Emotions crashed down on top of me like a tidal wave. My chest grew heavier with every breath I tried to take as my vision grew blurry with tears.
“What are you talking about?” she murmured.
“My parents, this war, Willow, the rebellion . . . Ember has taken everything from me no matter where I go or what I do, and I’m fucking sick of it.” A long pause stretched between us as Shay finally hung her head and lowered her sword with an understanding sigh.
“We’ll start again tomorrow,” she replied in a tired breath, sheathing her blade and offering me her trembling hand. I wiped my dirty, tear-stained cheeks before I took it, and we both clutched onto each other for dear life as we stumbled our way back to camp.
I knew regardless of how beaten down we were, we would be here at the same time tomorrow.
Shay sat on her bedroll, doing her best to doctor her leg as I gathered some kindling for a fire. I set everything up and sat down, taking a deep breath and trying to focus on sparking a flame from nothing.
“Stop,” Shay said, giving me a stern look.
“We’ve been training all day. Let your mind rest for a little while.
We will start again tomorrow . . . I promise.
” The promise seemed to be more than just training.
Something more lingered under her words.
And I knew she was trying to tell me that this would all be over some day.
We would succeed. We just didn’t know how or when.
Shay tossed me the torch we had been using for light, and I released a heavy, tired breath and lit the campfire.
I shucked off my dirty leathers to get to my mangled side. A thin sheen of water coated my hand and glowed a faint blue as I placed it over my wound. The cool sensation of it against my sticky skin made me sigh in relief as it healed slowly. All the smaller ones I’d let mend on their own.
I got to my feet to walk the short distance to Shay. I placed my hand on her thigh, and she hissed from the touch, but her shoulders sagged with relief a few moments later.
“Thank you,” she said, and I gave her a nod. These weren’t the first battle wounds we had given each other during this intense week of training, and I doubted they would be the last.