“So what did you think?”

Cyrus watched Samira emerge from the same hallway the three E graders had just entered. He wondered what the enigmatic woman wanted out of the young gladiators, but didn’t bother thinking too long. His leader’s motivations often escaped him, and he’d long since given up on trying to truly understand everything she did.

Samira looked at him and Yagao expectantly. Her porcelain white face gave away nothing, only a fool would mistake the mysterious smile adorning it for anything other than a mask. Her hair had greyed long ago, but her face still retained some youth. Far more than it had any right to anyway.

Cyrus delved into her expression. He found nothing. Again. The only way Samira’s face would ever betray her was if she willed it.

And the only way he’d get any information was by giving up some first.

“I don’t know what you see in her.” Yagao broke the silence before Cyrus had to. “She’s strong, sure, but not much else. She’s had the fortune of knowing how to fight and stumbling into a combat-proficient Dao, but she doesn’t have what it takes to go far. She’ll stall out in the middle of D grade, take a lethal fight once she gets bored, and die due to a reckless mistake.”

Harsh, but not unfounded.

Cyrus watched as Samira listened, carefully processing every syllable of Yagao’s statement and dissecting it for information.

Leading an alliance was a stressful task, especially one on the rise. Samira had to juggle hundreds of factors before making even a single decision. She had to consider every possible outcome when deciding the future of the alliance.

Cyrus was glad that every harmoniser carved their own path. The world needed people like Samira. If everyone lived life like him… well, there’d be a whole lot of fighting and not a lot of anything else.

“And you Cyrus? What did you think of her?”

“I mostly agree, but she might be able to turn it around. She’s got the spark of a fighter, even if her path to Harmony hasn’t been realised yet. Her friend had an unshakeable belief in her, even while she was clearly losing the fight. Faith like that is usually earned.”

Maybe he was being too kind to the young gladiator, but Cyrus always cut the youth more slack. They had nothing but time to grow after all.

“A weak argument.” Said Yagao. “She will not succeed. Do not lie under the pretence of hope Cyrus.”

“And what of the boy?” Samira asked.

“I didn’t see him fight.” Said Cyrus. “He seemed smart enough, but he’s ranked in the 800s, how good can he be? He’s not a prospect or anything right? Why do you ask?”

Cyrus knew there was a reason behind the question. There was always a reason, and there was probably a reason behind the reason too. He had faith in his leader, whether she told him her reasons or not.

“She’s not asking because he’s any good at fighting, Cyrus. He’s not.”

Yagao spoke with the smug confidence reserved only for those who knew something others didn’t. Cyrus could hear it dripping from every word. Yagao turned to their boss, his expression twisting from confidence into interrogation.

“She’s asking because he looks just like Flash.”

----------------------------------------

Jay trudged into the twins’ house, unsure how Lyra would react to the day’s events. After Vega had stormed off, Zara followed soon after. Although she gave Jay a few final words before leaving him alone.

Zara looked shellshocked. Vega had bettered her in every round of sparring, yet Yagao demolished her within seconds. Jay might’ve felt the same way, but he was already painfully aware of his current weakness.

Lyra sat on the couch, a pearly gold sheen coating her eyes.

Probably watching a fight.

“How was training? And… where’s Vega?”

Jay collapsed into the seat next to her.

“Strap in.”

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Jay relayed his whole day to Lyra. From his struggles with the domain, to how he overcame them. From their brief encounter with Aolio, to their excursion into the manor house. Lyra's surprise at the invite quickly turned to a grimace after Jay detailed the fight.

“Makes sense that she’s not here then. Have I ever told you about our life before we came to the coliseum?”

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“No.”

Lyra let out a sigh and leaned forward.

“Strap in.”

----------------------------------------

“Our planet was very different to yours. I could spend an hour describing its social and political intricacies, but honestly, I don’t really want to. After I told Akira about it, he said “Yo that’s some real Game of Thrones shit” so I hope that gets the point across. I didn’t listen to his explanation of what Game of Thrones was.

“Long story short our father, the Duke of Obsidian, was one of the most powerful men on our continent, second only to the king. Why? Because he controlled three of the four consistent passes through the mountain range bisecting the continent. However, his power came with great risk. In the last 300 years, power had only passed from the Duke of Obsidian to his heir three times. Our father was determined to make Vega the fourth. She was forty seconds older after all.”

Jay thought he might find a trace of bitterness in Lyra’s voice. But he heard only regret. If she was ever mad about not being the heir, she’d long since gotten over it. Jay heard the sadness of a life unfinished, but not the anger of a life unfulfilled.

“Before we could even walk or talk, we were trained to rule. For the first fifteen years of our lives, that was all we knew. We had a duty to our father, and a duty to our people. I don’t want to make it sound horrible, because it really wasn’t, we lived comfortably, which is more than could be said about most of the people on our planet. But it wasn’t our life. And it certainly wasn’t Vega’s.

“Combat training, etiquette training, politics, economics. And all that before breakfast. I understand why my father put us through it all, he didn’t want us to die. But he never asked us if we wanted to be rulers. Before we became adults, we both let him know that neither of us would take his position after he passed. He was mortified. All his hard work had been for nought. Eventually we relented. Vega agreed to take the position, but only if she didn’t have to deal with all the bullshit, as she put it.

“Someone had to deal with it though. Your sister isn’t very good at these things, you’ll have to help her was a phrase I heard a lot over the next few years. I didn’t mind too much, we had each other through it all. And I didn’t want to leave Vega to rule alone.

“Then the war started.

“Our father didn’t want us anywhere near a battlefield. Vega hung the threat of abdication above his head until he allowed it. Not that him allowing it meant much, she would’ve gone anyway, but it was nice to keep the old man happy…ish.

“You’ve never seen Vega truly smile until you’ve seen her on a battlefield. I enjoy fighting, but I was there because I had a duty to fulfil and a sister to protect. She was there because the frontlines were her favourite place in the world. That was the problem.”

The first glimpses of a frown shone through Lyra’s face. She tapped her fingers together, the sharp snap jolting Jay’s attention.

“Our father didn’t just dislike Vega fighting, he disliked the way she fought too. What use was an aspiring heir when she flings herself headfirst to the frontlines every other week. That’s why he did this.”

She tapped her finger again, this time onto the stony, furrowed, skin of her forehead.

“We didn’t always look like statues. After a close call that we tried to hide from him, he took matters into his own hands.”

“There’s an entity on our home world called the Dreamweaver. The Dreamweaver can grant powers, powers that usually come with a curse. He thought the curse would fall to him when he asked that Not a scratch to ever draw blood on my daughters’ bodies.

“He thought wrong.”

Jay could feel the quiet anger bubbling within Lyra. She didn’t forgive her father, not even now.

“At first, we didn’t know what had happened. When we found out, both of us were beyond angry. We’d fought for autonomy our whole lives. Fought to take control away from our family and into our own hands. One mistake showed how little that all meant. I had to drag Vega off my father’s helpless, bloodied body. If I didn’t focus on that, I probably would’ve attacked him too.

“Sometimes it doesn’t matter whether a decision is made from a place of love, or whatever. You don’t tell someone how to live their life. And you never make decisions like that for them.

“The very next day, we were called to defend an outpost overlooking the valley that we called home. It was a routine skirmish. Nothing we hadn’t seen hundreds of times before. But we went there angry, and that never ends well. Vega ended up overcommitting, trying to duel the enemy general. It looked like he agreed, but then four of his soldiers ganged up on her. I rushed in to help. To try to drag her out. It was no use. There were simply too many opponents.

“Eventually we got caught. Two against five, we were unable to avoid everything. Black void. White void. Gravel pit. The first thing we did after our debut is promise that we’ll never let anyone control our lives again. We promised to each other. Nobody is taking this life away from us. Not again.”

Both fighters sat in silence. Lyra stared into the distance wistfully, and Jay didn’t dare interrupt her. Eventually, she let out a deep sigh and returned her focus to the room.

“Getting crushed like that’ll bruise anyone’s ego, let alone one as big as Vega’s. But she knows she’s a big fish in a small pond. It wasn’t just that, it was the way he did it. Enforcing his will on her, disregarding her Harmony. Don’t expect to see her again tonight.”

Jay nodded silently, reflecting on Vega’s fight and still digesting the twins’ past.

Vega hadn’t just shown him to the pits, she was the only reason he found a training partner as good as Zara. If she hadn’t been with him today, he’d be far less prepared for his fight.

Yet her day ended in pure embarrassment while Jay was helpless to stop it. Jay knew the pangs of shame rising from the pit in his stomach were illogical, what was he supposed to do against the two D graders?

That didn’t make him feel any better.

The past two weeks had been tough. Without Akira and the twins, it could’ve been so much worse. Vega had helped him train, yet he was powerless when she needed him. Lyra had helped him analyse both his opponents, what had he done for her? Nothing.

Akira was Jay's very first teacher in the coliseum, his very first sparring partner. What had Jay given him in return? Less than nothing. He’d gambled the man’s sword without even asking, before acting like a cocky shit in front of a crowd of people.

Jay's fingernails dug into the palm of his clenched fist. Over the last two weeks, his friends had spent a lot of time and effort helping him. In accepting the fight with Davad, he’d taken a great risk on their behalf.

Now he had to prove he was worth it.