by Jeff Gunzel
“Two!” shouted Ozryn.
Salina lunged, the tip of her weapon stabbing straight in. Viola raised her sword, slapping the thrust upward at the last second. She really hadn’t been ready, but that didn’t seem to bother Salina. “You tried to cheat,” Viola accused, grinning at the close call.
“No, you weren’t paying attention,” Salina corrected. “The enemy won’t wait until you’re ready, so why should I?” Her blade snapped crossways, aiming for the side of Viola’s head. Their weapons cracked as Viola intercepted the strike. After training with Thatra for so long, Salina’s strikes seemed slow and soft in comparison. Of course, they were both tired from the morning-long drills and all the repetition that went with it. Wit their arms numb and lungs burning, it was possible a child had more strength than either of them at this stage of the day.
Reversing her body’s momentum, Salina spun around and brought her blade straight down in a chopping strike. Viola’s weapon seemed to drift straight towards it, smooth as silk yet with a speed far superior to what Salina was capable of. Crack. Effortlessly intercepting the downward strike, Viola held their blades, locked up over their heads. Salina couldn’t help but chuckle as they stood there face to face.
Salina’s permitted maneuvers had now been spent. The downward thrust was the last of three practiced techniques that day, and Viola had blocked each with minimal effort. It was only at this very moment that Salina realized how completely outmatched she was. With the element of surprise now gone, there was no doubt she wouldn’t land a single blow against Viola. But that didn’t mean the drill was over. Outmatched or not, she still needed to try.
In a flurry, the old woman pressed with her limited arsenal. Spry for a woman of her years, she twisted and turned her body, trying to confuse her opponent. But ultimately, the downward slash, sideways slash, and forward thrust were all Viola had to worry about. No amount of misdirection was going to work when your opponent was nearly certain of the eventual strike.
Their swords clacked away, hollow pops filling the air as Salina pushed forward with every three-strike combination she could come up with. But this novice drill was child’s play for Viola, basic strikes she had seen hundreds of times already, and those from a skilled warrior.
Frustrated, Salina slashed low, seemingly going right for Viola’s knee. As instinct took over, Viola drove her weapon down to intercept. Trying to capitalize on the feint, Salina ripped up and sideways, certain she had her opponent caught this time. But with lightning quickness, Viola’s weapon beat hers to the open spot. Intercepted with a vicious slam, Salina nearly lost her sword altogether. The vibration rattled her hands, numbing her fingers.
“You cheated!” Viola accused, leaping back with her weapon high and ready.
“I improvised,” Salina explained, her lips puckering in an attempt to look hurt by the accusation. “Had I actually landed that knee strike, then I would have broken the rules. I’m sorry if you thought I cheated.” She tapped the side of her temple with the hilt of her weapon. “Sometimes the eyes play tricks. When you’re my age you’ll understand.”
Viola laughed so hard she bent forward, her hands falling to her knees. The more she got to know Salina, the more she liked the old woman.
“One!” Ozryn boomed, signaling the switch from offense to defense.
Salina blinked, suddenly finding herself staring at the tip of Viola’s sword only an inch from her nose. She looked past it to see her grinning opponent. The forward thrust was perfectly legal, but she never saw it coming. “The enemy won’t wait until you’re ready, so why should I?” Viola repeated her words. “And don’t say I cheated just because you weren’t ready.”
With an upward thrust, Salina slapped the blade away and took a step back. Raising her weapon, she taunted Viola with a few blown kisses. “You had me,” she admitted, the two women beginning to circle each other. “I’m afraid you won’t be getting another chance like that anytime soon.”
Salina could only hope she sounded more confident than she felt. So far, she hadn’t touched Viola once. Now she would have to defend against her for the same amount of time. Was she even capable of holding Viola off that long? It didn’t matter. Both would get better from the hard practice, and both were having fun feeding off each other’s energy.
“Halt,” said Ozryn, just as Viola stepped in to throw her first strike. They froze in place, then looked at the man as he approached. It was hard not to feel a bit disappointed. “You,” he pointed to Salina, “go finish with Kalmton over there.” Kalmton still looked tired, sitting on the sand with his legs crossed. But he looked better than before. The rest had obviously done him some good, and he was probably capable of some full-contact sparring by now.
“And you, come take a walk with me,” he said to Viola. Viola watched his eyes flicker up over her head. She glanced up to see Kuuma looking down at them from his perch at the edge of the pit. How long had he been up there? She hadn’t noticed him until now. Kuuma nodded to Ozryn, then backed away from the edge, disappearing from view.
Unsure of what was going on, Viola walked across the hot sand beside Ozryn. No longer occupied with sparring, she got a chance to focus on the others. Umoro and Nald were engaged in a spirited session of their own. Umoro pressed hard, hitting his weaker, less skilled opponent nearly at will. Viola cringed at Nald’s bloodied face, the result of accumulating blows that almost always seemed to land clean. To his credit, Nald hung in there while eating the hard shots, many of which were not part of today’s learned techniques.
“I am impressed with the way you handled yourself,” said Ozryn, keeping a watchful eye on the others while the two of them walked. “You are even better than I was led to believe.”
“I had a good teacher,” Viola said, unsure of how much she should admit to this man.
“I would say you have at least a year of experience under your belt. Your balance is good, your timing and anticipation are excellent.” Before training with Thatra, she had never even held a sword before. It had only been a little over a month since touching one for the first time, but she decided to keep that detail to herself. The less he knew about her the better. “But that’s still not good enough, I’m afraid.” Confused, she glanced up at him but said nothing.
“If you were one of the regular prisoners sentenced to fight in the pit, none of this would matter. But your role here is much bigger than that. Your presence alone casts quite a shadow when compared to the rest.”
“We were told that we are all equals,” Viola pointed out, concerned she might be overstepping by speaking up on the matter.
Ozryn laughed, his hands smacking the sides of his belly. “That old rule used to be true. But everything changed the day they brought you here.” He looked down at her, lips tight as if trying not to grin. “There was another exception to the rule. Perhaps you know of whom I speak?”
“No,” she lied, eyes down, not wanting to look him in the eye.
“Have it your way, then. But I think we both know better than that.” He laughed again when she still couldn’t meet his knowing gaze. “A beast, they said. A mutation of nature that couldn’t be tamed. Although there may have been some truth to these accusations, I tend to disagree. For you see, I am the one who trained that monster. And now I am charged with training you.” Viola tried to steady her breathing as the topic of her brother just wouldn’t seem to go away. She simply didn’t want to talk about the man who betrayed her to this life. Why was he telling her all this anyway?
“He would grunt and groan, pretending to be more animal than man,” Ozryn continued. “He had the whole city fooled, but I knew better. Those eyes held a sort of intelligence, a shining light found only in a civilized, thinking creature. But I played along. There was no gain to be had by revealing his secret. Don’t get me wrong; I had no loyalty towards him, either. My job was to make him a killer, and that’s exactly what I did. If you ask me, I’d say I did my job a little too well.” He stopped and rounded on Viola. “But
there was only so much I could do.”
He flicked her white hair. “Whatever he was, whatever you are, there are limits as to what I can do. That was the problem we encountered from day one. First, the walls had to come down.” The walls had to come down? she thought. What does that mean?
“Although he was stronger and faster than any human I had ever trained, his body still had weaknesses. He had limits that needed to be overcome before he could live up to his true potential. I fear you suffer from those same limitations. For you to reach your potential, to become what you were born to be, these weaknesses must be eliminated.” A ball of ice began to swirl in her stomach. What was he talking about? She didn’t like the sound of any of this.
From the darkened gateway just ahead, she could see the tall figure of a man emerging from the shadows. So tall, in fact, her heart fluttered for an instant as her mind allowed her to see what she wanted to see. “Liam?” she whispered, hope rising like the tide. He had come for her! That meant her friends were here as well. They would bring her home, take her far away from this—
Stepping out from the darkness, the towering figure’s red robes shifted with each deliberate stride. Light seemed to sparkle off that red-and-black mask, forcing Viola’s heart to sink like a stone. It was him.
“No,” she said, taking a step back. She bumped right into Ozryn’s belly, attempting to put more space between herself and that man. All she could think about was the pain inflicted by the collar, pain he seemed to command with no more than a thought. “Why is he here? What does he want?” She looked up at Ozryn. His ever-present scowl had mysteriously vanished. Instead, he wore a sad look that seemed strange on such a hardened man. The apparent sympathy filled her with even more fear.
“I am sorry,” he said, his normally gruff voice now soft and filled with pity. “I never dreamed I would have to watch this a second time.” Face hardening once more, he snatched her by the arm and slung her forward, sending her tumbling face first into the sand. When she looked up, a pair of black shoes were right in front of her face. She got to her knees, staring up at the silent red giant.
“What do you want from me?” she squeaked, her rising panic evident with every word.
“We need you to learn to control this marvelous body of yours, Viola,” said Kuuma, stepping around from behind Diovok’s back. The thin little man dropped down to one knee, lifting her chin with one knuckle. “Soon, your true nature shall be on display for all the world to see. They will bear witness to a savage killer who knows no defeat.”
“I’m not a killer,” she whimpered, the weight of her chin pushing down against his finger.
“Oh, but you are, my dear. Have you forgotten already?” Her eyes snapped shut, squeezing a tear that rolled down her cheek. “You’re all killers.” He swept a hand across the others, who had stopped sparring by this time and were now making their way over to see what was going on. “That was a prerequisite, as you may recall. Oh, you’re definitely a killer. Whether or not you embrace that fact is a different matter altogether.
“The true problem is that you’re not enough of a killer. Not yet, anyway. Not like your brother was.” Her eyes snapped open at the mention of her brother. “But we are going to fix that starting today. It’s not that you aren’t strong enough. It is your mental weaknesses that must be addressed before greatness can be achieved. Weaknesses such as this.” He turned over his hand, exposing his wrist under her nose. She glanced at it curiously, not understanding the odd gesture. He motioned towards Diovok, who in turn waved his hand ever so slightly.
A burning hunger exploded through her. So fierce, so desperate, the sudden need was nearly enough to break her. It was like craving air while having her head held underwater for five minutes, her lips with only an inch from the surface. So close to the thing she needed most, yet unable to attain it.
Her red eyes flew wide open, and her mouth began salivating like she was a starving dog. Staring at Kuuma’s wrist, she watched its pulse, rising and falling with a rhythmic beat. Dancing to unheard music, she could actually hear the sweet nectar whooshing through his veins, calling to her. Her whole body flared with urgency, a need so ferocious it couldn’t be contained another second. A single drop was worth her own life if that was what it took. There was no judgment, reasoning, or coherent thought. Only need. Mouth snapping open like a tiger, she lunged, intent on draining every drop from his body no matter the price.
As if being struck by lightning, her body jolted with crackling energy. Stunned, paralyzed in the middle of her leap, her limp body thumped against the sand. Twitching, convulsing, she flopped about in anguish. Suddenly it all stopped. The pain, the insatiable hunger, all her senses returned to normal.
Rolling back to her stomach, she wiped the drool from her mouth. For the first time, she realized how substantial the collar’s suppression truly was. Yes, it suppressed her abilities of speed and transformation, but it did something else as well. It controlled the hunger. Without it, she was little more than an animal, a wild beast whose needs were driven only by primal instinct. She was, in fact, everything they claimed she was.
“Now do you understand?” Kuuma asked, rubbing his wrist, possibly wondering what might have been had Diovok not reactivated the collar in time. “This is just one of your weaknesses, one you must learn to control. Unfortunately, as far as we have figured out, this is not the sort of knowledge that can be gained by instruction. This thirst of yours is a byproduct of mixed blood that was never meant to be. Since no amount of willpower can ease these urges, your physical body will have to be transformed at a much deeper level. It must be distracted, then forced to accept that change.”
The others had drawn close now, moving in cautiously, not sure if they were even allowed to be part of whatever this was. But Kuuma didn’t seem to mind the curious audience. His casual stance was inviting, as if he wanted them to watch. Two pairs of guards emerged from the dark tunnel behind him, each pair nearly running with the item they held. The first carried a bench with leather straps which hung loosely. The other pair stumbled along with a steaming metal container, stopping every few steps to readjust their grips on the heavy object. Even the handles were hot, evidenced by the constant blowing on their hands each time they stopped.
“I want you to know that I take no pleasure in this,” said Kuuma, glancing over his shoulder at the men setting up behind him. “But we have not found any other way to deal with these limitations you have. This is a necessity. You should take heart to know that we have narrowed down the procedure. We can thank your brother for that. Let’s just say he fell victim to quite a bit of trial and error. You should be grateful it was not you.”
Viola stared at the steaming table, terror gripping her as they threw back the lid to reveal hot coals and various pokers, all glowing an angry red. “Please,” she begged, her breaths coming in short bursts as rising panic threatened to consume her. “You don’t have to do this.”
Kuuma leaned in closer, his nose nearly touching hers. “Oh, but we do,” he whispered. “The sooner you respond to your training, the sooner it will be over with. Not today, of course. The treatments take some time before they take hold. Weeks, months perhaps, that really depends on you and how fast your body responds. A word of advice, though.” He clapped his hands right in her face. “The more you try to resist, the worse it will be. During your training you must remember that pain is not your enemy. I am not your enemy. It is your cursed body that has forced our hand. We are simply fixing one of the creator’s many mistakes.”
Two guards approached to lift her off her knees. Each hooking one arm, they began to drag her towards the bench. She wasn’t purposely resisting, it was just that her legs wouldn’t obey. Stunned, shocked, she could no longer feel anything below the waist. Feet sliding along, leaving track lines in the loose sand, the bench drew ever closer. Her vision narrowed, blackness engulfing everything else around her.
Too numb to resist, they pushed her back down to her knees, head
and arms flat across the bench. She felt the leather straps tighten over the top of her wrists, each one biting down hard. She flexed her fingers on one hand then rolled her head to the side. The others were all right there, looking down, expressions filled with genuine horror…all except Umoro, who wore a smirk, arms folded across his chest. What was going on here?
Diovok and Kuuma stood off to the side, their fingers tracing around some sort of chart. Looking up, Viola caught just a glimpse of what looked like a mapped-out body. From here she could see lines leading from various parts of the body, each with scribbled instructions she couldn’t read from this distance. Somehow, their completely ignoring her while going over the chart made things even worse. She felt like an animal being led to slaughter. They showed no emotion, no remorse in the preparation of doing something that just needed to be done. She wasn’t a person to them at all. Just a thing that had to be fixed.
One of the guards came up behind her. She flinched, feeling his fingers wiggle beneath the back of her tunic. With a sharp tear, it tore away, leaving her back exposed.
“What are you doing?!” Salina shrieked, finally working up the nerve to speak out. Running up to the bench, she hovered over Viola’s strapped body as if she could somehow protect her. “Stop this madness at once!” A backhand from the guard sent her sprawling onto the sand.
“She is not being punished,” Kuuma reminded, stepping over to straddle her. His voice was cool, no anger, no emotion. “She is being trained, no different than the rest of you. She is, however, a special case. Her body is different than yours and therefore requires a different approach.” He looked up, his eyes sweeping across the guards as well as the slaves. “I do not need to explain my actions to any of you. The next one who tries to interfere will be executed on the spot.” He gestured back towards one of the guards. “Proceed.”
