Like a snake, I shed my old life. Leaving behind the lost boy and welcoming the status of a soldier. Personal guard to royalty. Adapting and forming to the mold, I hid what I was with my posture. I knew the proper way to carry myself, and I observed Cinder’s royalty. When alone, I’d practice their speech until I mastered their intonations. Clothes and style came easily with Savis’ habitual doting. Both she and Prince Nox granted me anything I asked.

Spoiled.

And I loved it. I loved them not for that, but for never asking why. We all knew, and they indulged me anyway.

Amolot avoided me.

Umbra occasionally interrupted our activities to scowl at his wife and children. Perpetually diminishing my place while never treading far enough to provoke Prince Nox’s temper. No. The King of Cinder came across as a desperate and sad coward who inherited a lie of a kingdom. Just a chore for him to attend.

I won’t dwell much on his presence. Nox described him with perfect accuracy in his Verse. Cinder’s first King won’t be missed.

While I dedicated my focus to guarding Nox, I continued to accumulate people to die for. To kill for.

Prince Xelan compared my sparring stats before and after Amolot’s gracious donation to my upgrades. He suggested a training regime to best suit my agility and size. Prince Nox took these recommendations seriously and enlisted aid from a fighter more fit as my opponent.

I wasn’t insulted when Karter entered the circle. Like so many of Gait’s female population, the Valkyrie were skilled fighters. Powerful. Fast. Utterly deadly. But Karter…

We were almost the same size. Same speed. Same reflexes. Hell, we even moved the same.

[SS]: I wish you could see that Korac isn’t devastated. I think reflecting on these memories, knowing now that she’s his mother, is helping him process the last few months. He’s smirking.

We were both fast. Scary quick to take our opponent down. Sweeping and misdirecting their momentum. Within a year of regular food, healthy exercise, and decent sleep, I was a proper match for her.

I assured her frequently I would make good on this assumption, and frequently, she reintroduced my face to the black rock tiles. We took on a semi-annual cadence of my attempts. They became quite the spectacle.

Like all major vectors of the Spire, the fighting circle jutted out from the tower. The Valkyrie gathered and cheered on the massive black veranda. Para pounded a fist to the sky with generous cheers for her mate. Amolot observed from the farthest nook in the only shade. She glared behind me where Xelan fitted me with new gear he designed to suit my frame. Slighter than him and obviously Nox. The young Prince and I both turned to see that even King Umbra and Savis joined the festivities.

I wanted to call her Lady Savis, deserving of her ranking, but once in private she threatened to break my fingers for each time I used her title. The woman was so severe. She reminds me of a few people reading this right now. You know who you are.

Back to the event.

Despite the scale of our audience, I felt no mounting pressure. No competitiveness. I focused only on my body. My breathing. My stance. I knew Karter stood across the circle from me doing the same. This time, she paid me enough respect to don her own battle gear.

Yes. These matches escalated greatly over the past year.

Three rounds.

Round one granted us knives. The round ended with the first disarming.

Round two, blunt weapon of choice. It ended with the first one out of the circle.

Round three was hand-to-hand and ended with the first one unconscious.

Before I entered the circle, Prince Nox took me by the shoulders and forced me to meet his gaze. “You win this fight. And before you mistake this for a pep talk, let me make it clear. This is an order. I know you will not fail me.”

No. I’d never fail Nox.

Fearless, even at Earth-age thirteen, I nodded to him and entered that circle knowing I would win—

“Wait! Wait!”

Prince Xelan—all of ten Earth years—ran into the circle and gestured for me to kneel. Bewildered, I complied. Within seconds, the young Prince swept my hair from my face and pinned it in place. He gave an awkward wave before running back out. “Continue. Sorry!”

Karter laughed in her good nature and nodded with approval.

A deafening horn sounded from the observation platform across the Spire from us.

I smirked. What a glorious day to win.

Karter beamed and stepped into the inner ring with confidence earned over millions of years of winning battles. Short rainbow mohawk. Thin leather and some kind of metal armor covered her skin in disjointed scraps. Straps and buckles held it all in place. Blood-blue lipstick added a predatory element to her genuine smile. “At least Prince Xelan learned from our last session.”

Mostly, I preferred to stay quiet and let the people around me spill their secrets to the silent observer. But this was an exception. “You pulled my hair like a—like a…”

“Like a girl. Yes. Use your opponent’s physiology against them even if it seems dishonorable. We are smaller than many we go up against.” She gestured at Nox, Earth-age sixteen, and already the most enormous figure in the Spire. “Lose your chivalrous notions of nobility and take advantage of what you can in a fight to the death. Never let me hear you died in a fight where you failed to exploit your enemy’s every disadvantage.”

“Understood.”

That boisterous grin of hers softened to a maternal smile. “Good boy. Now, show me what that fancy armor can do.”

It was fancy. And light. To where I felt exposed in it. The rigging covered me neck to toe, and I put a lot of faith in its primary architect.

I circled her, waiting for her to make the first strike. She did the same. We mirrored one another, knives in a reverse grip. The crowd pressured us to hurry, but the two of us were alone in the circle.

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Karter crossed one leg wide over the other, rolled, and swiped at me.

I hopped back and crouched. Ready for her to push.

She flipped backward to the outer ring.

Fuck it. I rushed her. The distance between us afforded her enough time to steady her stance. She swept to the side and hammered her pommel on my wrist.

My hand spasmed, and I dropped the knife.

As Karter’s eyes shone with her first victory, I caught the knife with my free hand before it hit the stone, spun, and sunk it into her armor at her ribs.

She backed away with an emphatic curse. When she met my gaze again, she laughed heartily. “So much speed. You should be proud of your progress. I am.”

I was.

Xelan cried across the circle, “That fancy armor would do the Valkyrie some good, Karter!”

“Your humility inspires me, Prince Xelan.” Karter gestured, pandering to the crowd. “We promise to place a commission as soon as I take down your guard.”

I glanced behind me to see the young boy punch the air with a cheer.

Prince Nox rolled his eyes incredulously, but gave an encouraging bow at the neck.

Karter also ignored the show, taking advantage of the break to pull Para by the collar in for a kiss.

We all enjoyed the fun until Umbra approached ringside. “The first round goes to Karter.”

I rolled my neck and shoulders. Ignoring him. The Princes chewed him out enough for me.

Xelan shouted, distraught, “What? How?”

Nox stayed quiet. Arms folded over his chest, he watched the snake with suspicion written on his face.

The crowd booed and jeered until Umbra closed his fist and elaborated, “The Valkyrie disarmed the guard. She won honorably, and the boy underhandedly attacked her after the round was won.”

I clenched my jaw and threw the knife so hard it thunked into the stone. Without so much as a glance at the man, I collected my batons for the next round.

Karter grabbed a staff.

We both faced each other once more, but this time with stony masks. Neither one of us cared who won the fight. We wanted to give the Spire some life and fun. But we wouldn’t give Umbra a stage to put on his favorite performance. Flexing his pitiful fist to compensate for the power he lacked.

I wanted to spit, but I’ve never actually been mad enough to disgrace myself that much. I certainly wasn’t about to mar my image on that fucker’s behalf.

So we continued the fight with the first round to Karter.

In a simultaneous dance, I spun the batons. She recognized my efforts for crowd fodder as they cheered ever louder. Grinning, she pumped her staff in the air and gave a war cry.

With the spirit revived, we circled once more. I glimpsed Xelan marking his calculations all the while. The boy never stopped working on improvements.

Nox actually smiled.

That’s right. Take a moment to let that sink in. I think I can count on one hand how often that happened in those years. In public. Xelan would remember better.

I digress.

This time, Karter snapped an end of the staff at me first. I blocked. She made another strike with the other end. Blocked again. We carried this on in various positions. Twisting and turning. High and low.

It was damned good exercise. I’ll make sure the Shadow incorporates it into our routines.

We sweat and exerted ourselves to breathlessness. Me, without a nacre, but upgraded. She, in the highest echelon of the warrior caste. That’s impressive. Moreover, the crowd went silent with anticipation. They held their breath as we continued this dance.

Left high. Blocked. With a turn, she tried for my back. I blocked with a twist behind. Weapons locked. We both spun away to separate. And so on.

She smiled all the while. Excited. Happy. Those strange black and green eyes of hers sparkled with it.

Until I stomped on her foot and uppercut her with a baton. I sprung upward, flipped over her head, and locked the weapon around her neck. Reining a Valkyrie takes effort. Significantly more when you aren’t trying to kill her. There’s a balance to it.

Karter dropped to her knees and rolled out from under my careful lock—

Our audience gasped collectively.

I finally allowed myself to smirk.

“Fuck.” Karter realized she rolled outside the circle. “Well, that round went fairly to you, Korac.” She turned and gripped my wrist.

Both of us dripping sweat and breathing hard. It felt right to clasp back and offer, “May the best Icarus win.”

“Hah!” Karter cackled warmly and pointed at him before pandering to the crowd. “He won one round and already thinks himself the better Icarus. Shall I show him girls?”

Para kissed her cheek. “Make him regret it.”

I shook my head, struggling to keep the mask on my face when I was grinning inside. Karter had that effect on me. Para, too.

Xelan ran into the ring again and reminded me of the necessary mechanism he designed.

I assured him, “I will not fail you, Prince Xelan. Nor Prince Nox.”

The boy took the batons from me. “I never worry that you could fail me, Korac.” He smiled and patted my arm from his ten-year-old stature.

I felt like a giant. In more ways than one.

Karter returned to the inner circle with less armor. The metal scraps traded for scanter leather and fewer straps. Easier to maneuver. Less for me to grip and grapple.

I reseated the pin in my hair and met her with our even score. “I apologize in advance for victory.”

Karter beamed at me. “Never apologize for besting someone. Assuming you can succeed.”

I took a stance. She took her own. No circling. No twirling fancy weapons.

I punched her throat. Fast. I know it was faster than Karter could see. It left her so stunned that she gripped her neck reflexively, leaving her guard open.

I kneed her in the ribs. As she staggered, I swept her legs out from under her.

Karter resorted to instinct. Her wings opened and caught her, returned her to her feet. She was still smiling. “Fantastic progress. Swift. Relentless. Now I will exploit your greatest disadvantage.”

A wingless warrior.

Her wings batted against me, sweeping me backward.

Remember, this round required a knockout for victory. But if she buffed me over the balustrade and rescued me, it historically counted as a kill.

This was my greatest folly. I couldn’t fly to keep up with the Icarean warriors, but I sparred them as if I could. I always lost in this round for this reason.

Not today.

I let Karter’s gusts blow me over the balustrade while the audience watched. Nox narrowed his gaze at me as I went over. Umbra jeered. Xelan shouted, “Now!”

I triggered the mechanism hidden within the sleeve. A grappling hook bearing a stretchy rope shot from it just as Karter came to rescue me. When the hook caught in the balustrade, the rope sprang me upward toward her. Fast.

Karter recoiled from it, but it was too late.

I jumped on her back and rode her down between those wings, back to the circle. We hit the stone. It rolled and switched places with the sky. End over end, the two swapped places until we slammed into the Spire wall with several sickening cracks.

I tried to stand. Even with my back braced against the wall, everything was far too spinny. I slumped back to my ass and licked the taste of blood from my mouth. Or my nose. I don’t know which. People pressed closer. I blinked excessively to rid my eyes of the dust and blood to make out their shapes.

Xelan was the easiest to identify, being the smallest. I didn’t flinch when he reached out to me.

Eventually, enough sense returned for me to utter, “Karter. Karter?”

I patted around, but Xelan seized the activity. “She is unconscious and needs to rest while she heals. The Valkyrie will look after her.”

The women warriors brought a stretcher to collect what they considered their unofficial leader.

“Did I hurt her? How badly?”

Xelan shook his head as if educating a stubborn pupil. “She already heals. Her recovery will be minuscule compared to your own. See… she wakes now.”

Stubborn? Fuck yes. I tried to stand, and when I wavered, Prince Nox threw my arm over his shoulder. It fucking hurt. I think it was dislocated, but I kept my mouth shut and grit my teeth.

The Valkyrie let me see Karter before they took her away. I broke so many things on her. Caved in clavicle. Scrapes all down her chest. One arm boasted a dislocated shoulder and elbow. Broken nose. Blood from her ears, nose, and mouth.

My emotions were so conflicted. I won, but I hurt her. I was proud of her wounds. Proud of the pain I caused her.

As if Karter saw the war within, her working arm squeezed my wrist and raised it. “Victor!” Her shout was more of a squeak and less of a roar.

But the chorus of Valkyrie cheers that followed shook the Spire. “Victor!”

Nox bellowed it in my ear, leaving me almost deaf.

Xelan squealed it behind us.

Umbra and Amolot were nowhere to be seen.

Para squeezed my shoulder hard enough to relocate it. I groaned and sucked air through my teeth. She grinned, as if she knew exactly what she did. “Congratulations, Korac. You defeated the best of us.”

A feast was held in the servant’s hall in my honor.

Prince Nox, Prince Xelan, and Savis attended.

As did a fully healed Karter and her mate.

It was a perfect memory.

It was home.