“Final round,” Caelan said. I glanced at Isabella. She looked worried. Grabbing my sword by the hilt, I stood up and went to the center of the hall. Ji-Han was ready, his brow lined with sweat. He was probably more dangerous after two warm-up battles than if I’d faced him sooner. I knew his strengths already, though. I couldn’t let him get behind me, nor could I let him land a kick.
Ji-Han and I hadn’t spoken much besides the occasional nod. Now his attention was fully focused on me. There was a charge in the air between us, something nearly tangible that had my heart racing more than I cared for. This would be quick.
“Begin!”
We both charged forward. Our swords met in a loud clash of metal. Thrust after thrust, each met with a block and followed by a counterattack. My arms were shaking as I blocked his next strike. I clutched the hilt of my sword in one hand and braced the blade with my other. It took all my strength to maintain the block as he used both hands to push his blade against mine. But it wasn’t enough. The pressure was too much, and I was forcedto take a step back, and another. My blade was pressing into my palm, cutting into the skin. One more shove, that was all he needed, and I’d break. And he knew it. When it came, he thrust so hard my hold shattered, the blades breaking to an opening. I tried to brace with my arms for the blow, but he was faster. He landed a kick to my chest.
It was powerful, and I was lifted into the air. My back struck one of the pillars with a crack. Pieces of the column were crushed as I slid to the floor. He was coming. For a breathless moment, panic gripped me. Then something inside me broke free.
It was wild, raw, and electric—a surge of energy that obliterated every rational thought. My body moved on instinct, driven by a fierce, primal will I couldn’t name. I didn’t think. I acted.
It was as if time stood still. I sensed Isabella’s fear. I felt Ji-Han’s confidence. But most of all, I felt my own power dwelling deep within me.
Before Ji-Han got to land his punch, I lunged to the side, my hands and feet skidding across the mat, dragging my sword. I jumped to my feet, holding the hilt of my sword at my shoulder with both hands, the blade pointed ahead of me, and charged. Our blades clashed, and the surge from the blows ran through the sword and up my arm. My arm throbbed painfully, and I faltered. It wasn’t just from the blow—it was something else, something electric, something crippling coursing through along my veins, bones, and nerves all at once.
What was this? My hand tensed. The hilt slipped from my grasp, and the sword banged against the mat as my chest seized.
My knees hit the mat with a thud, my body paralyzed from the foreign presence still fraying my thoughts—and that was all the opening he needed.
In a blur of motion, he twisted his body, locking my arm, and pulled me into a brutal hold. I barely kept his sword at bay as Istrained against him. Every muscle in my body screamed, but his grip was unyielding.
Panic flashed through me. Vulnerable. Defenseless.
But then the surge of power I felt before flared to life once more—hot, raw, and uncontrollable. It was wild, electric, flooding my veins, overriding the paralysis and fear with something more dangerous.
I wrenched with a desperate twist. Pain shot through my shoulder as I tried to break free of his hold. We struggled, neither gaining the upper hand, still locked in a tense hold with my back to his chest. Driven by instinct and something deeper, I calmed. With only feeling, I threw my weight against his chest. As he stumbled, I jumped, flipping over him and using his shoulders as a springboard, and knocked him to the floor. I never let go of his arm, twisting it as I went until there was a sickening crack in the air.
This was it.
His grip loosened on the hilt of the sword, and I reached for it, wrenching it away from his hand as I landed behind him in a crouched position, his sword firmly in my hand, parallel to my outstretched leg.
Ji-Han quickly got to his feet; his face twisted in pain. I could hardly breathe because of the chokehold he had me in. How had I let him get hold of me? Anger flared through my veins like fire. I was cold and alone again, barely seventeen, fighting for my life, and no one was coming to save me. He could’ve killed me, and I had no way of stopping him. I couldn’t let him get hold of me again. I had to stop him. For good.
Rising swiftly, I sliced the sabre through the air, a rush of energy flowing through me.
It struck fast, like a blur of motion I could not see.
The hall fell into stunned silence.
Ji-Han stumbled. His chest armor split open, blood welling along the deep, crimson line I’d carved across his skin. The vibrant red bloomed, shocking against the pale canvas of his chest.
Everything stopped. My breath hung in my throat as guilt slammed into me. My sabre trembled in my hand. Had I done it again? Had I let in a darkness that I had no control over and hurt someone? This was my fault, just like that night in the cabin. I’d done this to him, just like I’d killed my mom. What was wrong with me?
Ji-Han pressed a hand to the wound, his expression tightening with pain but not anger. His eyes found mine, sharp with shock and something else—something unreadable.
"I—" The words tangled in my throat, hollow and useless. I didn’t mean to.
The instructor’s voice broke through the numb haze. "Get him to a medic."
A rush of movement followed, whispers broke out around the hall, but I couldn’t move. My feet were rooted to the floor, my chest tight with the weight of what I’d done.
Ji-Han, breathing hard but steady, offered a faint, grim smile as blood slicked his fingers. "You don’t hold back, do you?"
"I didn’t mean—" The apology faltered, useless on my tongue.
"Stop. We’ll spar again," he said, voice rough but certain.
As the instructor guided him toward the sidelines, I stood frozen, the wild rush still thrumming faintly beneath my skin. Whatever had taken over me in that moment hadn’t left completely.
