Taren shoved Leo off him and stood up, his porcelain arm venting a thick cloud of steam. He looked exhausted, his organic side heaving with effort, but his eyes were still focused. He looked at Yariel, then at the unconscious Mirage, then finally at Leo.
"Holy Gehenna, she’s gotten serious," Taren muttered, his voice strained.
Leo stood up slowly, his legs shaking. He was the last one left in Yariel’s way. He looked at his wooden sword, it was cracked down the middle, held together by nothing but stubbornness and luck.
"You’re not done yet, Taren," Leo said.
"I am," Taren replied, looking at his porcelain limb. The blue light was flickering. "If I push any harder, this will break. I’m out, Leo. It’s just you."
Taren walked over to Mirage, picking her up and moving her to the edge of the clearing. He sat down heavily against a tree, his role in the spar finished.
Yariel stood in the center of the open space. She didn’t look tired. Her hair was perfectly in place, and her black tunic didn’t have a single tear. She looked like she had just finished a walk in the gardens rather than a three-way battle.
"Well, Leo?" she asked, a small, mocking smile on her lips. "Are you going to run, or are you going to show why you broke the Awakening Tree?"
Leo didn’t answer with words. He reached into his mind, pulling on the cold, jagged thread of his ego and pride.
He didn’t try to be a prince. He rembered the feeling of the Great Sea Realm, the sll of the Awakening City, and the sight of Tharok’s cold, armored corpse. He let the bitterness and the anger fuel his movent.
He charged.
This ti, he didn’t go for a strike. He threw his cracked sword at Yariel’s head. As she swerved to avoid the projectile, Leo dived low, grabbing a handful of thick, wet mud from the forest floor.
He sared it across his own eyes.
Yariel paused, her brow furrowing. "What are you doing?"
Leo didn’t need to see her with his eyes. He could feel her heat, the vibration of her feet on the ground. By blinding himself, he was forcing his other senses to compensate, a trick he and Lyra had obliviously used to survive in the darkness of the Shadow Embrace.
He moved.
He was a shadow among the trees. He didn’t stay on the ground, he used the low-hanging branches, swinging and climbing like an animal. He was silent, his breathing shallow and controlled.
Yariel turned in a circle, her sword ready.
"Childish, Leo. You can’t hide from forever."
Leo dropped from the branch directly above her. He used his entire body as weight. He slamd into her shoulders, trying to bring her to the ground.
Yariel groaned as the impact hit, but she didn’t fall. She caught his arms, her strength making his bones creak. She spun him around and slamd him into the earth, but Leo didn’t stop. He kicked out, his boot catching her in the shin, then scrambled back into the darkness of the bushes.
"Enough!" Yariel shouted, her voice losing its bored tone.
She slamd her foot into the ground. A pulse of raw energy rippled outward, flattening the grass and shaking the trees.
The force of it caught Leo in the chest, blowing him out of his hiding spot like a leaf in a storm.
He hit a tree trunk and slumped to the ground, the mud finally washing away from his eyes as he coughed up a spray of crimson.
Yariel walked toward him, her footsteps heavy and deliberate. She stopped three feet away, looking down at the broken, dirt-covered boy.
"You have heart, Leo. I’ll give you that," she said. "But heart doesn’t win wars. Strength does. Precision does. Most importantly, emotions of whatever kind won’t work."
She raised her wooden sword for the final blow.
Leo looked up at her. He could barely see through the blood and the sweat. He saw the crimson orb in the distance, a moon of red light among the evening clouds. He saw Mirage waking up on the sidelines, her face pale. He saw Taren’s silent, respectful nod.
He had lost. He knew it. But as Yariel’s sword descended, he didn’t close his eyes. He reached out and grabbed the wooden blade with his bare hand.
The splinters dug into his palm, blood dripping down the wood. He held on with a grip that shouldn’t have been possible.
Yariel stared at him, her eyes widening.
Then, with a sharp twist of her wrist, she snapped his grip and tapped him lightly on the forehead with the flat of the blade.
"Yield," she whispered.
Leo’s hand fell. His strength finally evaporated, and he slumped back against the tree, his chest heaving.
"I... yield," he croaked.
The silence returned to the forest. The training arc was over.
Yariel stepped back, throwing her wooden sword down. She looked at her palm, where a small sar of Leo’s blood remained. She didn’t look bored anymore. She looked thoughtful.
"Taren, get those damn horses," Yariel ordered, turning her back on the clearing. "The coronation is in three days, and the academy will resu in a week. They need the rest."
Taren stood up and walked over, helping Leo to his feet. Leo leaned heavily on the half-Banished, his eyes fixed on Yariel’s retreating back.
"She’s a monster," Leo muttered.
"She’s an Atlantis commanding soldier," Taren corrected him softly. "What do you expect? And I’m sure soon you’ll get there also."
Taren whistled and signaled the horses. The horses’ shadows landed on them in seconds, and they touched down on the ground. The four of them climbed back onto the horses and made their way back to the Atlantis fortress.
As they made their way back, the red glow of the crimson orb seed to grow brighter and dimr.
Yariel had won the training, but as Leo looked at his blood-stained hands, he knew the real fight hadn’t even started.
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