Duel of Claim

Hannahrial did not look at me when I entered. That was how I knew something was wrong.

I stepped forward carefully, both hands steady beneath the tray, my breathing controlled, my eyes lowered. The chamber felt colder than usual. The air tighter.

She stood beside the table this time. Not by the window. Waiting.

"Closer."

I obeyed. One step. Two. Three. Close enough that I could feel her presence, not warmth, never warmth.. but pressure. Like standing too near a cliff edge.

I lowered the tray. My fingers trembled, just slightly.

She saw it. Her hand moved. Fast. She caught my wrist before I could pull away. The injured one. Her thumb pressed into the weak point between bone and tendon. Hard.

Pain surged up my arm, sharp enough to steal breath. My body folded instinctively, but I didn't pull away. I couldn't.

"You hesitate."

Her voice was low. Controlled.

"I don't.."

Pressure increased. My words died in my throat.

"You think before you move now."

Not a question. A statement. Her eyes lifted slightly, not to meet mine, but to study my face from below my lowered gaze.

"That is dangerous."

My knees nearly buckled.

"I'm trying to do better."

The words came out strained. Honest. Wrong.

Her grip tightened once more, just enough to remind me where I stood. Then she released me.

"Leave."

No dismissal gesture. No acknowledgment. Just that word. I left.

The East training grounds were colder. The Thorn Gate loomed overhead, dark wood reinforced with black iron, its edges wrapped in creeping, deadened vines hardened into jagged shapes. The walls beside it were worse. Thick with thorn growth, twisted and reinforced until they looked like something alive that had been forced to hold still.

This place didn't feel like a training ground. It felt like something that swallowed mistakes.

Shaedra was already there. Waiting. Of course she was.

She didn't greet me. Didn't speak.

She simply watched as I approached, her arms folded loosely, her posture relaxed in a way that made everything else feel tense.

"Late."

It wasn't Hannah's tone. It was worse. Because there was amusement in it.

"I.."

She stepped forward. Close. Too close. Her fingers brushed under my jaw, tilting my head up slightly before I could react.

"Don't."

Her voice dropped, softer now.

"I didn't ask."

Her thumb traced lightly along my throat. Right over the marks. The ones she had left. My body tensed immediately. She felt it. Smiled.

"Still sensitive."

Her voice was just loud enough to carry. Just enough. I didn't need to turn to know. Syrel was there. Watching.

Shaedra's hand lingered. Deliberate now. Her fingers pressing just slightly into the bruised skin at my throat, her touch light, but intentional. A display. Not for me. For her.

"Let's see what you've learned."

She stepped back. Blade drawn in a single smooth motion.

The first strike came fast. I barely caught it. Pain shot through my arm.

"Too slow."

Again. She moved around me. Not just attacking..circling. Closing distance. Breaking it. Her blade correcting mine. Her body brushing mine as she passed. Too close. Every time.

"Focus."

Her breath brushed my ear. My grip faltered. Her blade tapped my ribs. Harder this time.

"Or are you distracted?"

I forced myself to move. To follow. To react.

She laughed softly.

"Good."

Her hand caught my wrist again. Guiding. Adjusting. But not letting go.

And then…closer. Her body aligned with mine as she corrected my stance. Her voice low. Measured.

"Hold it like this."

Her fingers tightened slightly. Not painful. But not gentle either. Her thumb brushed again across my throat. Over the marks.

"Don't forget."

I flinched. Just slightly. That was enough. The air shifted.

"Enough."

Syrel's voice cut through everything. Cold. Sharp. We turned. She stood just inside the training ground now. No longer distant. No longer observing. Her eyes were on Shaedra. Not me. That made it worse.

"What are you doing?"

Shaedra didn't move. Didn't release me immediately.

"Training."

Syrel's gaze dropped briefly. To my throat. To the marks. Then back up.

"That is not training."

Silence stretched. Tight. Uncomfortable.

Shaedra finally let go. Slowly. Deliberately.

"And you would know?"

Syrel stepped forward. One step. Then another.

"Yes."

The word was quiet. Certain. Her eyes flicked to me. Just once. Something passed through them. Something sharp. Something… hurt. Then it was gone.

"Move."

I did. Immediately. Backing away. The moment I cleared the space..they moved.

Steel met steel. Fast. Precise. No wasted motion. No hesitation.

Syrel moved like something restrained. Every strike clean. Every step controlled.

Shaedra met her. Not with force. With intent. Every movement grounded. Deliberate.

They didn't fight like enemies. They fought like equals. That was the problem. Blow for blow. Step for step. Neither yielding. Neither gaining. The sound of steel rang against the Thorn walls. Echoing. Sharp.

I stood frozen. Watching. Trying to understand.

Syrel, the medic. Shaedra, the blade leader. Both captains. Both dangerous.

The duel slowed. Not from exhaustion. From decision.

They stepped back. At the same time. No winner. No loss. Just silence.

Syrel's gaze flicked to me again. Longer this time. Lingering on my throat. On the marks. Then she turned. Left.

Shaedra watched her go. Then looked at me. A slow smile spread across her face.

"Tomorrow."

She stepped past me. Close enough that her shoulder brushed mine. Intentional. Claiming. And I stood there. Between them. Breathing. Understanding something I didn't want to understand. This wasn't just training. It was territory. And somehow…I had become part of it.