Seraphina’s lips curled into a smile as the spear hurtled towards her helmet, the point glinting off the morning sunlight. It wasn’t a poor strike, but not nearly fast enough to threaten her. She sidestepped, dodging the spear point and countering with a sweeping arc of her own spear. There was a crash of wood on wood, the sound echoing through the fighting pit.
Seeing his attack fail, her opponent leapt backward and hunched beneath his shield, prowling in a circle to change his angle of attack. Seraphina stood still, letting him circle and watching him out of the corner of her eye as she waited for his next move. This time he feinted high and lunged low, aiming to take out her legs. Once again, she anticipated the strike and stepped past it, closing the distance between them in a heartbeat.
Her assailant rushed to withdraw his spear, expecting a counterthrust from her own weapon, but instead she stepped into him and rammed him with her shield. The blow took him in the middle of the chest, and even with the practice shield, sent him flying backwards. He stumbled, dropping his spear, and Seraphina pounced on him, taking her own spear in a half grip and driving it at his throat. He could only watch as the weapon careened towards him until it stopped inches from his bare skin.
“Yield!”
The word came in between gasps of breaths as the man’s pupils slowly constricted to their normal size. Seraphina immediately stepped back and lowered her arms, the spear vanishing into the air. A smattering of applause rose from the edges of the ring where a few curious onlookers had gathered.
“Well fought.”
Her unit’s captain’s voice was gruff and his arms remained folded across his chest.
“But that was reckless. If Dylan had been a little bit faster he would have caught you on your assault.”
Seraphina stood silently for a moment, staring into space as she replayed the battle in her mind. It didn’t take her long to reach the same conclusion.
“Yes sir!”
She raised her hand to her head in a crisp salute.
“Alright, both of you out. Avery, Walt, you’re-”
“With all due respect, sir, I don’t think I’m finished yet.”
Seraphina resummoned her spear and stared up at the captain, a look of challenge in her eyes. The captain met her gaze, arms still crossed, while he considered her words. With a slight nod, he looked to the two other soldiers who had stopped at the top of the ladder leading down into the pit.
“Don’t just stand there, get in there.”
“Both of us, sir?”
Avery’s face paled slightly at his words and she looked apprehensively down at Seraphina.
“Yes, both of you! We don’t have all day!”
Seraphina grinned, beating her spear on her shield as the two soldiers descended into the pit. Now this would be a challenge. There was a palpable hush amongst the onlookers as they stared down in anticipation. The soldiers approached Seraphina cautiously, trying to flank her, their eyes wary and bodies tense.
Walt made the first move. He lunged forward, spear aimed at Seraphina's midsection, a move intended to distract rather than connect. Simultaneously, Avery tried a more direct approach, her spear thrusting directly at Seraphina’s chest. Seraphina's reaction was almost instantaneous. With a swift pivot, she parried Walt’s spear with the shaft of her own, redirecting the momentum of his attack to spin herself around, narrowly avoiding Avery's thrust.
The crowd gasped as Seraphina found herself momentarily between the two attackers. Without hesitation, she pushed off her back foot, propelling herself towards Avery. She feinted high, sweeping low instead, her spear catching Avery on the ankle.. As she tumbled to the ground, Seraphina spun again, this time to face Walt, who had recovered and was charging at her anew.
This time, Walt’s approach was more aggressive, his spear darting forward in rapid jabs, each one blocked by Seraphina’s shield in a rapid staccato of clashes. With each block, Seraphina tensed on her toes, her movements a mix of evasive maneuvering and subtle positioning, waiting for an opportunity to strike. Finally, she saw her opening when Walt overextended a thrust. Quick as a flash, she sidestepped and used her spear's butt end to knock the back of his knee, causing him to falter and kneel.
She raised her shield, moving to take him out of the fight, but before she could land her blow, she heard the slap of boots on dirt behind her. Rather than turning, she ducked, letting Avery’s spear fly over her shoulder. Quickly, she grabbed hold of the weapon and yanked, using it as a vault to send both weapon and fighter flying over her shoulder.
Moving her eyes back to Walt, she saw him preparing a final attempt to strike her and she rapidly thrust her spear, almost delicately slicing the blunted point through his guard and tapping the center of his chest. Breathing heavily, he stepped back, raising his hands in surrender. She glanced down at Avery who was still in a heap on the ground and once more dismissed her spear.
This time the applause was louder and several more onlookers had joined to watch the duels. She allowed herself the barest hint of a smile at her victory, but no more than that. The captain’s eyes were still stern, but he had uncrossed his arms, leaving them dangling by his side.
“Well fought, Seraphina, that was impressive. Now up. All of you! Session’s done.”
Another small round of clapping broke out around the pit’s edge as Seraphina headed for the ladder.
“If you don’t mind, Captain, I’d like a chance to test myself against Lady McIntyre as well.”
Seraphina whirled, spear reforming in an instant, as she turned towards the source of the dry voice behind her. The man’s landing had been so quiet that she hadn’t even noticed him until he had spoken. She felt a pang of irritation, but did her best to swallow any disrespect as she turned to face the man.
“Lieutenant Graves… I keep telling you not to call me that.”
The man shrugged, eyes twinkling. He carried no weapon and wore only light leather armor and a pair of worn boxing gloves.
“Well, I figured you could use some extra motivation. Now come on, we don’t have all day. I hope you don’t think you can beat me without upping your game a little bit.”
Seraphina looked up at Captain Tice who looked annoyed, but resigned. He nodded to her and she smiled. Now this is what she wanted.
“Joan of Arc!”
Seraphina smiled widely, eyes fluttering with intoxication. It had been ten years since she had first transformed and still each time sent euphoric shivers through her body. Silver plate mail covered her from head to toe, glinting in the morning sun. The long red hair spilling out from her helmet turned golden blonde and of course, she grew, as all Tier 2s did – her already massive six and a half foot form growing to well over seven feet tall so she towered over her opponent. She smiled down at the lieutenant and he met it with a cool smile of her own.
“Impressive. Now let’s see what you’ve got.”
***
The whole yard was silent as the two fighters circled slowly, sizing each other up. There was a gleam in Seraphina’s eye, a thrill of anticipation and even apprehension that had been missing from her earlier fights. Graves, for his part, seemed completely unfazed, bouncing lightly on his toes.
Without warning, Graves charged forward, his movement blindingly fast. Seraphina stabbed down at him on instinct, but he ducked under her thrust, moving inside her guard. She tried to step back and attack again with her spear, but the lieutenant was already there, his padded fist connecting hard with her armored side. The blow sent a shock through her body as the armor clanged with the impact.
Graves didn’t relent. He weaved from side to side, his movement erratic and unpredictable. Seraphina attempted to track his movements with her shield, but his agility was on another level. With increasing difficulty she contorted her body, trying to take the blows she couldn’t block on the strong points of her armor and looking for any opportunity to counterattack. But he was so fast that all she could do was keep pace and block until he suddenly jumped back and regained distance.
Graves’ shot her a mocking smile and resumed bouncing on his toes.
“Not bad. You’re getting better, milady.”
She snarled and ran at him, spear raised and he had the audacity to wink at her before rolling under her thrust and coming up just beside her. Using the distance to his advantage, he delivered a rapid series of punches at the joints in her armor – knees, elbows, the gaps in her cuirass. Each hit was precise, designed to incapacitate and lock up even the masterwork summoned armor of a Tier 2 hero. Seraphina grunted, feeling the sting of each blow. She tried to retaliate with broad sweeps of her spear, but Graves was too close, and her movements were too slow in comparison.
Frustration built within Seraphina as she realized her strategy wasn’t working. She needed to try something different. With a roar, she took a more aggressive stance, and ran straight at Graves, ignoring the hits on her armor and trying to make her superior size and strength count. She managed to catch his shoulder with the side of her shield, knocking him back a few steps. Staying on the offensive, she let her spear dissipate and lunged for him with her armored gauntlet. She was rewarded by a look of surprise in his eyes, and for a moment she thought she had him, but his grin never faded.
Instead of jumping backwards to escape her attempt to wrestle as she expected, he leapt, jumping over her arms and using her shoulder as a springboard to front flip behind her. She whirled to face him, raising her shield, but the jab aimed at her helmet's visor was already past it.
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The blow was harder than anything he had thrown before, catching her off guard and making her head ring. The visor held, but her head snapped back and her vision blurred. In that split second of disorientation, Graves darted past her lowered shield and drove a powerful uppercut into her stomach. The force lifted her slightly off the ground, sending the breath whooshing from her lungs.
As she stumbled backward, trying to regain her bearings, Graves was relentless. He continued his assault, each punch and kick making her retreat further until her back was up against the edge of the pit. With nowhere to retreat, Seraphina raised her shield in a desperate defense, but Graves swept it aside with a deft movement of his arm. Before she could react, he executed an incredible spinning kick, heel connecting with her chest plate – somehow buckling the metal. The impact slammed her into the pit wall, knocking the remaining air from her lungs. Unable to support herself, her knees buckled and she fell to the ground, shield clattering beside her.
The crowd erupted in applause, several other officers from Graves’ unit whooping and hollering to celebrate his victory. Gasping, Seraphina dismissed her armor, easing the strain on her breathing slightly, although she felt like she had broken a rib. With a tremendous effort she turned over so she was lying on her back, facing the sun that was now high in the sky. She took a few shuddering breaths before Graves’ form silhouetted the sun above her. This time his smile was genuine
“Well fought, McIntyre. That went far better for you than the last time we did this. Hand up?”
Seraphina nodded, stifling a cry of pain as he hauled her to her feet.
“Go find a [Healer] before washing up. But maybe not your mother…”
“Too late for that…”
As she stumbled up the ladder out of the pit, Seraphina looked up and her heart sank. Rather than being greeted by condolences from her fellow trainees at how close she had come or pointed instruction from her captain, she found herself looking at the folded arms and stony glare of the Stewardess, Katrina McIntyre.
***
“Mother…”
Seraphina’s voice was a low mutter and her neck was bent in resignation. Still, she mustered enough energy – and mastered enough of the rebellion inside of her – to offer the stewardess a formal salute.
“Seraphina.”
The stewardess’s voice came out as a taxed sigh as she walked up to Seraphina and placed a hand on her chest.
“[Basic Assessment]”
Seraphina felt a tingle spread from the hand through her entire body as the skill activated.
“Two broken ribs… that was some kick Jeffrey.”
“Thank you, stew-”
Graves, who had made his own salute beside Seraphina, started responding before trailing off at the withering look Katrina shot him.
“Ah…”
“Yes, ah. Both of you, come with me.”
Before turning to go, she mercifully used a basic healing skill and Seraphina breathed a sigh of relief as she felt warmth seep into her bruises and broken bones, immediately easing the pain in her chest.
Intense was definitely a word that could be used to describe Katrina McIntyre with her perfectly tailored white uniform and steel gray hair pulled back into a tight bun. But cruel, no. A medical student prior to the onset of the virus, she’d never let anyone, especially her only child, suffer physically for a moment longer than necessary. But Seraphina knew her mother’s ire would express itself in other ways.
The three of them walked together in silence away from the barracks and training yard and toward the keep at the center of the city. As Seraphina stepped out of the training grounds, her steps echoing on the patched concrete, she saw remnants of a world now largely reclaimed by nature and necessity. The city was a patchwork of the new and the old, where pre-Virus architecture met with hastily erected fortifications and converted residential areas catered to the needs of a post-apocalyptic society.
As she walked, the towering, crumbling facades of what were once museums and government buildings lined the streets, their once-immaculate stone exteriors marred by the passage of time and the relentless assault of the Virus. These historical structures had been repurposed into barracks, armories, and command centers. Vines crept up the sides of many buildings, and where windows once framed views of a bustling city, now they were fortified with scrap metal and wood, peering out like heavily lidded eyes onto the dim streets.
They passed into one of the city’s famed circles - once named for a Civil War admiral, it was now called McIntyre Circle. As morning turned to afternoon, the vibrant marketplace had begun to quiet and a few stalls were empty as their owners took their lunch break. Children ran about, playing among the trees and dancing between the legs of a statue of a man standing guard with his iconic spear and shield. A man she revered more than anyone else, but had never met. She paused for a moment before it, looking up into the face she had seen hundreds of times in sculptures and paintings, feeling a mix of pride and incredible longing.
Every time she saw him, he was always the [Defender], never… Dad. A man who had been the first to put his own life on the line to protect all of them and had died before his daughter had even said her first word. Seraphina was the only known child of two Tier 2 heroes, rare as they were. Her father, a [Defender], her mother, a [Healer]. That had made her a [Paladin], a unique archetype. It was her legacy, her burden, and she struggled every day to live up to it. She loved her father, immortalized him inside her heart, but she would give all of that away in a heartbeat just to have a dad.
Tearing herself away from the statue, she lengthened her strides to catch up to her mother as they walked through the heavily guarded gates of the keep. Once a prominent museum, the structure was now more brutalist than modern, a dark castle right at the heart of the fort. The tension in the air was palpable as soldiers and aides hurried back and forth, carrying orders from the stewards and generals to troops manning the fort’s walls.
Once inside, Katrina ushered them both into a side room and closed the door behind them. She pointed to a group of tables that were probably used for war councils or briefings.
“Sit.”
Seraphina and Graves glanced at each other uneasily, sitting down and staring up at the stewardess’ stern face. The lieutenant was at least 15 years older than her, but today they both felt like schoolchildren beneath her mother’s glare.
“Do you know what I spent my morning doing?”
Seraphina glanced at the lieutenant who’s blank look mirrored her own. When neither of them answered, the stewardess continued.
“No? I spent the last three hours in council discussing evacuation plans in case the wall is breached. Your whole unit was there, Jeffrey. And I told you I expect you to be at these meetings as well, Seraphina, not showing off your skills before a bunch of raw recruits.”
Seraphina felt a bitter taste on her tongue and couldn’t entirely keep the note of complaint out of her voice.
“I was training, mother. My whole unit was training. I-”
“Am not an ordinary soldier. Do you think it benefits the fort for you to act this way?”
“But-”
“But nothing. You’re humble and brave, and your comrades respect you and I love that about you, Seraphina, but some things are more important. You’re both leaders, heroes that people admire. And it’s time to start acting like that. Remember what is outside of these walls. We can not afford to lose track of the stakes at hand. This fort, these people, rely on us to maintain focus and discipline.”
“Then why won’t you let me fight!”
Seraphina’s face was flushed as she repeated the same tired argument knowing it wouldn’t make any difference.
“You say I’m not strong enough yet, and maybe I’m not at the lieutenant’s level yet, but I could hold my own on the front lines. Send me out there and I’ll save lives.”
Katrina paused, her expression softening momentarily before she regained her composure.
"It's not a question of strength or skill, Seraphina. You are strong. No one doubts that. But while every life is precious, your life is far more important. Not just to me, but to all of Fort Washington. You are a symbol of hope, the living legacy of your father, and of what we all fight for. Losing you in an avoidable confrontation... it's a risk we cannot afford."
Seraphina's jaw tightened, and she looked away, frustration bubbling up inside her.
“What we can’t afford, is to stay penned up like this while the Virus slowly whittles us away. Sometimes, when you have a losing hand, all you can do is play it to win. And the way we win is with me part of the fight. This archetype, it means something and it’s not just symbolic. I’m Level 25 now, but that’s just from training and firing arrows from the backlines. I could be so much stronger if you just let me fight.”
The stewardess tapped her finger on her lips thoughtfully.
“That’s well-reasoned Seraphina. Jeffrey, where would Seraphina rank if she was in your unit?”
Graves’ eyes widened in surprise.
“The Argonauts, ma’am?”
“Yes, the Argonauts. Clearly she’s not as strong as you, your brother, or General Myers, but could she hold her own?”
The lieutenant looked at Seraphina, his eyes troubled before turning back to her mother.
“Hold her own, possibly. But she’d be the weakest without a doubt ma’am. None of us are Tier 2s besides General Myers, but all of us are over Level 40.”
“That’s not fair!”
Seraphina partially rose in her seat as she responded, her face reddening.
“The Argonauts are the strongest unit we have! I’m stronger than the captains in some other units!”
Seraphina’s mother just continued on, though, completely ignoring her.
“And Jeffrey, what happens when Tier 2s enter the battlefield?”
Seraphina could have screamed. It was like the fight with Lieutenant Graves all over again. She knew what was coming and could do nothing to stop it. When the lieutenant answered, it was all she could do not to turn away in frustration.
“The juggernauts swarm them. That’s how we lost the last young Tier 2 we sent out there three years ago. We get attacked by one nearly every fight and if Steward Kahlanick is with us, there’s often several.”
“So what? You wrap me in cotton until we’re all running for our lives and dying by the hundreds?”
The stewardess responded to the fire in Seraphina’s voice with even more ice.
“No. You continue to train your body and mind and when you’re ready to hold your own, you’ll have your chance.”
“But-”
“That’s enough.”
Seraphina sat back, knowing her chance was gone.
“Both of you will report to your commanders for punishment detail because of this morning’s antics. I expect to see you bright and early tomorrow, in our war council. You're both dismissed.”
Not waiting for a response, she turned and left the room, leaving them both behind.
Seraphina stared after her mother, her heart pounding – feeling both defiance and resignation at the same time. Graves sighed beside her, his expression solemn.
"Sorry Seraphina, I wanted to lie for you, but...”
She just sighed, getting to her feet. Graves stood beside her
“It’s okay…”
She's hard on you. But she's not wrong, Seraphina. The battlefield... It’s terrifying. Every single day it feels like we’re outmatched and just waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Seraphina nodded, her frustration slowly cooling.
"I know. It's just that I feel so ready, so capable. I hate feeling stuck, not being able to prove myself."
Graves clapped a supportive hand on her shoulder.
"Your time will come. And when it does, you’ll be more than ready – you’ll be indispensable. For now, focus on what you can control. Train, learn, and prepare. The fort needs that just as much."
They walked out of the room together, the heavy door closing behind them with a resonant thud that echoed down the dimly lit corridor of the keep.
"Let’s get this punishment detail over with. Then tomorrow, you can show them all just how much you’ve grown at the council."
“Thanks, Lieutenant. For understanding.”
“Anytime, Lady McIntyre.”
“When do I get you to stop calling me that?”
“When you beat me.”
He winked, and despite herself, Seraphina laughed.