Fight for the Crown

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Fight for the Crown Page 5

by Emilie MacCauley


  She ties her hair back and slumps in a nearby seat. There’s minutes until her performance and her stomach feels twisted. “Do you have any idea who my opponent is?”

  Shadow shakes his head. “They should be here any minute to introduce themselves. I have to get going. Remember those few simple moves I taught you. Worst comes to worst…aim for the sensitive areas.”

  “Wait!” She stands. “You’re leaving?” She doesn’t bother hiding the sorrow in her voice.

  “I’ll be watching from the stands.”

  All Rowan can focus on is how much of a disaster this is. The fighters who perform are all skilled. They will know her defending moves and deflect any hits she makes toward sensitive areas. She’s doomed. She has never been a violent being and has always chosen hiding as opposed to fighting or starting confrontation.

  All she has ever done in her life is run and hide, but there’s no running from this.

  Even if she could run from this, there is no where for her to go. She can’t return to the castle, especially now that her glamour is gone. She wouldn’t be able to return to her family, not after Arlo has her on his kill list. Not after everything she now knows.

  Society as she knows it has been a lie. She was privileged as a Shevka and not just because she was a royal. The Shevka people oppress the Dakra. How could she return under her father’s rule when she knows he allows people like her to be treated less than dirt. All she needs to do is get through this fight and then she can go back to working with Lola until she finds her true powers.

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Rowan’s opponent enters the tent and he is the opposite of what she expected. It’s a male. A male that is nearly a foot and a half taller than her with biceps bigger than the size of her head.

  His expression is stoic as they both soak in each other’s appearance. He is wearing nothing except for loose fitting black pants. His chest is muscular with defined pecs and abs. Black tattoos cover skin that was so dark in comparison to her paleness. His hair is shaved on the sides giving him a strip of hair about an inch long on the top. His eyes are cold and calculating as he raises his chin, sizing her up.

  “Knoton, but my friends call me Knot,” he introduces and holds out his hand.

  “Roe,” Rowan takes his hand in her own. With a simple squeeze he could crush all the bones in her hand. Instead, he shakes gently and gives her a warm smile that makes her sigh with relief. So maybe he’s not a brute.

  “I understand this is your first fight?” He raises an eyebrow.

  “Yeah,” she chuckles nervously. “I’m not much of a fighter.”

  He tilts his head. “Then why did they pick you to be our new fighter,” he asks puzzled.

  “Here’s the thing, Prince Arlo wants to see me perform but I have no powers to display.”

  “Ah,” he nods his head in understanding. “Well, listen I’ll go easy on you, but not too easy. These people want a fight.”

  “Well then, let’s get this over with,” she gulps.

  Entering the main arena feels surreal. She remembers being a bystander watching the performances in the crowd, but looking up at the hundreds of rows is intimidating. The rows of seating wraps around the entire tent. They ascend nearly to the top. The performance area is a large dirt circle that is heavily lit from overhead. She puts her hand above her eyes shielding herself from the bright light. She squints trying to make out the faces in the crowd but fails to. Even though she can’t see them, she knows nearly every seat is filled due to the overwhelmingly loud cheering.

  Knot walks toward the middle of the circle waving to the crowd with a huge smile on his face. The crowd loves him. They chant his name and she has the urge to turn on her heel and leave. Her legs feel like heavy bricks keeping her in place. Knot faces her and crooks his finger willing her to enter the fighting circle. Her feet move despite her minds objection. She stands in front of him as the roar of the crowd gets louder and louder and louder until…

  A bell rings and the tent goes silent. Knot gets in a ready stance and Rowan mimics him. She goes into high alert as she watches his every move. The littlest movement causes her to flinch and tense. All Rowan can think of now is that she’s going to die. Knot chuckles and winks as he lunges for her. Block, she hears Shadow’s voice in her head. She’s too slow. His fist hits her directly across her cheekbone. Her ears start to ring and the crowd, that’s now cheering, sounds muffled. Her face throbs and she knows there is going to be a big bruise forming in the next few hours.

  Knot looks different than before. His eyes dilated black, lips peeled back in a deranged smile as he soaks in the fear radiating off her body. Another punch catches her off guard and she shakes her head pleading for mercy. No more. Please. Thoughts of her brother laughing at her demise fill her head. Rowan can imagine Shadow shaking his head, silently muttering how she’s an idiot for forgetting how to defend herself.

  Rowan starts to taste copper realizing his last blow split her lip. She’s dazed and dizzy as she attempts to hit him back. Knot is fast and easily deflects. He kicks her from behind and she falls to the ground. Her vision blurs and all she can smell is a mixture of dirt and blood. Her back aches and she uses what strength she has to push herself up. She is kicked down again and she knows there’s no coming back from this.

  Knot fights her like he’s playing with his food. The predatory look in his eyes makes her cower like his prey. He watches her get up just so he can push her back down.

  Fight for your dignity, Rowan chants in her head. Fight for your life. Fight for a chance to stay here.

  A kick to her head makes the crowd gasp for a moment, then cheer. Her vision tunnels and she can hear a pulsating sound, a thumping in her mind. She doesn’t know when, but she must’ve received a hard kick to the stomach because her ribs hurt and she’s short of breath. Her lungs burn with each intake of breath. She prays to the gods to make this end.

  Is it worth it? Do I deserve this? Rowan wonders.

  She clenches her fists together and pulls up one last time looking her opponent in the eyes. He raises his leg higher for her to see the bottom of his feet and crashes it down to her face.

  Darkness surrounds her.

  * * *

  Rowan wakes up in a strange area. She is disoriented as her eyes slowly come back into focus. Nothing looks familiar and the room’s lighting is too bright for her eyes to handle. She blinks until the room is no longer spinning, but the blurriness is still swirling in her vision. She is laying on a cot in the healers tent where they must’ve brought her after she lost consciousness. The tent smells of medicinal herbs. The smell of lavender placed near her bedside makes her feel more tired.

  She notices next to her is a row of cots. The cot directly beside her has someone laying on their stomach. She can make out the silhouette displaying a shirtless top with pale skin. The dark chin length hair is covering majority of the male’s face. She continues to blink.

  Blink.

  Blink.

  The room finally comes into focus and Rowan gasps when noticing the male in the cot next to her has thick red vertical lines all across his back. Some of his skin is peeled all the way down to the bone. Some of the wounds are still bleeding as tiny red droplets fall onto the white sheets beneath him. They look like whip marks.

  Her eyes water at the horrible sight. She looks back at the face no longer blurred by his dark hair to see familiar brown eyes staring at her.

  Shadow.

  Who did this to him? Why? Rowan wants to cry out. She wants to run to help him. To heal him. He must be in so much pain but—despite him looking exhausted and defeated, he stands up and walks to her bedside.

  “How are you feeling? You took quite a beating,” he shakes his head. Not an ounce of sympathy in his expression. “I see you forgot everything I told you, too.” She can tell from the look on his face that he is trying to hide the pain he’s in. His jaw ticks and his body is stiff. Rowan wishes he would sit back down.
/>   “Shadow,” she groans weakly ignoring him. “What did they do to you?”

  His eyebrows lower. “Nothing,” he adds, “It’s none of your business anyways,” he replies harshly.

  “Roe!” A voice calls from behind her. She sits up and looks over her shoulder to see Lola, Solana, and Pepper in the threshold of the tent flap. She turns back over to see that Shadow has disappeared. She opens her mouth as if to call out for him, but the three females bombard her with questions and sighs of relief.

  “What?” Lola frowns looking around the room. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  She shakes her head. “Not a ghost.” She dismisses them by changing the subject, “You didn’t have to check on me. I’m fine.”

  “You are not fine! You took a massive beating!” Lola scolds.

  “You saw?” She winces mortified that they watched her get pummeled.

  “Of course we saw,” Pepper replies. “And not to mention we’re your friends. We had to make sure you didn’t have any brain damage or internal bleeding.”

  “I talked to the healers already. They said you’re fine and good to go when you’re up to it. Oh, just take a tonic they made for you before you leave.” Lola sits on the edge of her bed.

  “Did you watch the show with Shadow?” Rowan inquires.

  They collectively answer no. “We didn’t see him. Why?” Solana asks.

  “Nothing.”

  “Oh Roe, we were so worried when we saw Knoton was your partner,” Lola cries out.

  “It was probably The Overseer’s doing,” Solana hisses.

  “Who is The Overseer?” Rowan raises an eyebrow.

  “No one knows.”

  “They say he runs Cirvka. He’s the one that controls everything that goes on around here,” Pepper adds to Lola’s answer. “No one has ever seen him. Rumor is The Overseer lures Dakra here and uses them for his own control.”

  “Enough about that,” Lola waves her hand. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She puts her hand on Rowan’s forehead.

  “Fine,” she brushes Lola’s hand off but smiles at the concern. “Doesn’t Prince Arlo run Cirvka?”

  “The prince?” Solana snorts. “He’s too busy in his own castle. He comes here maybe once a month to see some Dakra suffering. Someone has to do his dirty work. The Overseer probably takes his orders directly from Prince Arlo,” she shrugs. “It’s all rumors though. No one is sure.”

  “And also no one has ever seen him,” Lola points out.

  After taking a tonic, the three of them felt better leaving Rowan here to rest a little while longer. This cot is more comfortable than the mattress on the floor in their tent. Pepper had to leave to make it to her evening performance and Solana and Lola didn’t want to get in too much trouble for leaving their booths unattended for so long.

  Rowan’s body feels drained. The lack of energy makes it hard to move. Her eyelids feel heavy begging her to sleep, but she can’t seem to rest. Her thoughts keep going to the lore of The Overseer and questions of who injured Shadow. Mostly what keeps her awake are the unanswered questions of her origin and why her powers are seemingly nonexistent.

  “Hey,” a voice calls from behind her. Knot is at her bedside holding yellow flowers that look picked from a garden instead of bought at a floral stand. “I hope it’s okay that I came to see you. I feel really bad about what happened.”

  “I guess you did what you had to do,” Rowan says coldly, not accepting the flowers extended toward her.

  Knot sighs and sits on the cot that Shadow was previously laying on. He sets the flower on top of the spotted bloodied sheet and slumps his shoulders. “I did what I had to. I’m a fighter, the crowd comes to see me. I’m their undefeated champion. It’s a show and I have an image to keep up.”

  She can understand a thing or two about maintaining a certain image. Princesses have to be the epitome of elegance and grace. “At least I don’t have to fight you again,” she gives him a small smile and that cheers him up. “Although, I’m probably kicked out of Cirvka for lack of talent.”

  “Prince Arlo approached me after the fight. He told me that the crowd went wild and thoroughly enjoyed the fight. Because of that, he’ll allow you to stay. No worries, Roe,” he leans over and puts his hand on top of hers in an endearing gesture.

  “For such a vicious fighter, you really are a nice guy,” she feels her cheeks warm.

  “I was bred to be a soldier. My father fought for King Bren and I was supposed to take over as one of his generals. I worked my whole life toward being a warrior so I could protect the crown. Then the Dakra reign ended and a new Shevka one began that oppressed our people.” Our people. “Cirvka is a place where we can come together. I wish things were different though.”

  “Where would you be if things were different?”

  “Not here.”

  “Is being here so bad?” Rowan asks sadly.

  “You don’t know the half of what goes on here,” he mutters.

  Rowan becomes confused. Doesn’t she know it all? “I thought low bloods were brought here so they could be safe. They’re give a home in exchange for doing a job. From what I’m told life in the village is bad for low bloods. This place is a havan.”

  “Just because someone tells you something, doesn’t automatically make it the truth,” he begins to stand. “It’s getting late.”

  “No, wait,” I call out and he stops. “What do you mean?”

  “Everyone is brought here for a reason. Whether it’s a reason you know of, or not. Goodnight, Roe.”

  With that cryptic response Rowan is all the more confused. Confused at what purpose Cirvka serves to function. She thinks back to the stories told by Lola and Solana. They told her life was so bad outside, they came here. Their families were killed by Shevka and they were going to be next. Then Cirvka saved them and gave them a home.

  Rowan’s brain must have been rattled too hard. She can’t wrap her head around an alternative reason for the production of Cirvka. What reason could there be? Maybe Shadow knows, but she hardly thinks he’d admit any truth to her. The male goes by Shadow, not even his real name. If his name is a lie, what makes anything he says the truth?

  Just because someone tells you something, doesn’t automatically make it the truth, Knot’s voice rings in her ears.

  Shadow is different the next morning. Even more reserved than normal. No one else notices while they all eat lunch together, but Rowan notices the slight wince he has when moving too much. Lola jabbers on about a Shevka male who came to her stand and flirted with her. Solana says she was passing by and saw his friends laughing and that it was most likely a bet. This upsets Lola and Pepper has to cheer her up. Shadow sits quietly and doesn’t even lift his head despite the subject of conversation being changed about him.

  “So, Knot came to visit me in the healers tent after you left last night,” Rowan pokes at her food having no appetite.

  “Knoton? The same guy who beat you up?” Pepper crosses her arms.

  She nods her head. “What did he do to you? I’ll kill him!” Lola exaggerates.

  “No, it’s nothing he did. It’s something he said. He told me everyone who is brought to Cirka is here for a reason.”

  “I mean, we’re all here for a better life. We have shelter and food and we are each other’s family. It’s more than what we had out there,” Solana gazes down at her lap.

  Shadow picks up his head and watches as Lola says, “We were saved. You don’t understand what it’s like living out there. The Shevka villages don’t want us there and exclude us. Subjecting us to the slums of the villages that aren’t even liveable!”

  “You don’t understand,” Rowan shakes her head. “He says we were all brought her for a reason whether it’s one we know of or not. He mentioned not to trust what others say. That someone may not be telling the truth about the nature of Cirvka.”

  “Who is lying?” Lola tilts her head.

  “I don’t know. He didn’t specify who, but
it sounded like he meant more than just one being is lying to me.”

  “But what other purpose could Cirvka have?” Pepper is confused.

  Shadow finally joins their conversation, “I’ve known Knot for a long time. He likes to stir up trouble. He’s been hit one too many times to the head. Ignore him. It’s like Pepper said; what other purposes could Cirvka have,” he sucks air between his teeth as he sits up straight. “The reason we’re all here is to have a better life than what is offered out there. A life we can’t have while our king is still oppressing our kind.”

  That silences them all. Lola decides to pivot the conversation to something else, “So, I think after we’re all finished eating we should try and figure out Roe’s power.”

  “Oh!” Solana exclaims grabbing our attention, “I’ve been reading about potential potions we can use that will strengthen power. If we strengthen it, maybe it’ll come out to play.”

  “Good thinking,” Lola agrees. “There has to be a spell or two I could try to use. I’ll do some reading. I’m sure Madame Tallulah will have books on the subject.” Lola stands from the table and rushes out of the dining tent in a hurry.

  Pepper checks the time and excuses herself, she has a performance starting any minute. Rowan watches the sad, solemn look on Pepper’s face, one that easily tells her these performances are a burden to her. Rowan remembers back to the first morning of her arrival, how much she loathes Shevka watching her like she’s some spectacle to behold.

  Shadow must have left with Pepper, his shadows carrying him without a trace or a word. Solana is busy spacing out, her goggles are wrapped around her hair like a headband and her pixie cut blue hair is messy and untamed. She’s no doubt already thinking of ways to help Rowan unlock her powers.

  When Rowan was little she remembers that while her brothers teased her mercilessly for not having powers, though her mother was never worried. She told her, everyone has a time and that Rowan’s time had not come yet.

  She used to cry everyday and pray to the gods to help her find a way to her magic. Night after night she was disappointed. Night after night she watched her brothers use their magic like crutches. She watched with mesmerized eyes and a pleading heart. She remembers coming to Cirvka and admiring the performers and wishing she was one of them. Wishing she could display her magic with ease, but there is not an ounce of magic in all of her soul. So, night after night she stopped praying, and night after night she stopped wondering what it would be like to wield magic of her own.

 

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