I think she arrived here around the same time as I did. We’re evenly matched in terms of skill.
She loses her balance when she doesn’t connect with me, and I whip around, my fist catching her in the side of the head.
Hard.
She goes down, skidding to the gravel, skinning her knees.
But she’s up in an instant, whirling around and lunging for me, eyes very angry now. Murderous. She catches me in my middle and flings me backward. I hit the unforgiving ground, the stones digging into my back making me gasp.
Her bony, long-fingered hands wrap around my throat. She grunts low but says nothing. Humans rarely speak words to each other down here. They aren’t needed.
An orc overseer stands not far away, watching us with some slight anticipation, but also looking a bit bored.
I gag as my windpipe is squeezed closed, trying to pry her off me. I tap her. Sometimes that works with the ones who aren’t too far gone, the ones who remember a time before the pits.
But she doesn’t budge.
Survive.
I grasp around in the dirt and rocks next to me, keeping her attention on my other hand, the one that’s digging into hers at my throat.
Survive.
I find a stone with enough heft. I grip it at the back, keeping my fingers curled away from its face, and I slam it into her temple.
She doesn’t make a loud noise, just a little breath out as she falls to the side, her eyes rolling back.
She slumps over, her hands going slack and I suck in a gulp of air, another one, and another.
There’s no time to recover though.
I’m on my feet before weakness is noticed. My opponent is on her back. Her eyes are open, but unblinking. Her fingers are twitching at her sides.
I don’t approach.
Something deep inside me is telling me this is wrong. I felt it before, too, not long after I came here. Another female took my food on the first day. When she attempted to do it the next time, I made sure she couldn’teveragain. No one tried after that.
I silence the feelings brutally. She would kill me without thought. They all would.
A rusted piece of iron falls from somewhere high, catching her in the shoulder. She doesn’t seem to feel it.
Fate was too late. Oft times it is here.
I learned quickly that I could no longer rely on being Fate Touched to keep me alive.
I have only myself. Kismet was another life.
I always thought I was a coward in The Barrack. But I’m not here. I’ll do what it takes to survive.
I’m pushed hard out of the way by the overseer who enters the training pit, and I slide in the gravel, only just keeping my balance. The huge orc with dark green hair, who reminds me of Sio from The Barrack, leans over my still opponent and slaps her face hard enough to wake the dead, but she doesn’t move.
Her hands have stopped twitching now. Her gaze is frozen on the steep, high walls surrounding us, on the round openings hewn into the rockface that I see figures in sometimes, watching for those who are good enough to go up.
I stare at her. I think she’s gone. She escaped from this place the only other way we can.
I’m about to turn away, feeling nothing but a vague notion that Ishouldfeel something, that there was a time when Iwould havefelt something, when she blinks, sits up, and shakes herself.
The orc grunts.
