The Meteor raised the mace, her entire body tensing, her eyes boring into Timura’ chest. If the mace struck Timura, even without Strength behind it, she would die in an instant. The weight of the mace stretched the Meteor’s body taut–and exposed.

Vaela clutched the bent staff, channeling all of her rage and terror into it. She grunted and hurled it at the Meteor. Pain twanged from her broken rib, but she didn’t drop her gaze. The staff hurtled towards the Meteor. Her head jerked towards it and, a fraction of a second later, her body followed suit, twisting as best as it could. The staff found its mark and rammed directly into her abdomen, just where the burns ended. The Meteor gasped, the mace dropping from her fingers, and she doubled over, hands clutching her stomach. She wobbled a few steps before recovering her balance. Her breathing was stilted, wheezing. Up close, her hands shook as she pulled them back from her body. The exertion from the previous fight, the severe burns, the several hits she’d suffered–they had to be adding up.

A hunger rushed through Vaela, past the rage, past the terror–a lust for revenge. More than that. The hunger a predator felt following the scent of the blood of a wounded animal. She sprinted forward as Timura rolled to her feet and thrust a finger towards the Meteor. “NOW!”

Timura pounced and smashed her fist into the Meteor’s face. The woman reeled to the side and Timura punched again. The Meteor ducked and rammed a shoulder into Timura, battering her backwards. She dropped into a fighting stance, hands rising past her charred torso to form loose fists near her face. Whether she was coherent or fighting on pure instinct, Vaela couldn’t tell. Vaela closed the distance and leapt at her, arms outstretched. If she could just grab her, even tackle her to the ground, Timura might get a kick to the head in and this nightmare would burst, like a bubble of blood.

The Meteor pivoted and latched onto Vaela’s wrists. She spun and hurled her to the side. Vaela hit the ground rolling, a jolt of fresh pain jabbing into her chest, and she pushed up to her feet. The Meteor, despite her injuries, still had years of training on them. Who knew how many fights she’d won? How much blood she’d waded through to get here. Even burned and exhausted, she towered high above them on a pedestal of dead bodies.

But experienced or not, they had to win. Death was the only alternative.

Timura approached the Meteor from behind and struck, but the woman turned and batted Timura’s arm away. She jabbed and Timura’s head whipped back, blood arcing through the air from a split lip. The Meteor paused. It was a mere moment, but fear flooded through Vaela. No…

The Meteor Tensed her body and Vaela jolted into a sprint, willing her legs to close the distance in time. Timura’s hands flew to her mouth, her head still tilted back, her body off-balance. The Meteor’s back leg lifted and Whipped forward. Vaela clawed through the air, trying to tear into the empty space, to rip the fabric of the world apart, to pull the woman away from Timura. But she was too far.

The Meteor’s boot Slammed into Timura’s chest. Dust and dried blood exploded off the boot. A loud crack resounded throughout the arena.

Timura flew backwards, no scream, no sound at all–just a trail of blood drops. After an eternity, she fell back down to the ground and her body limply rolled to a stop near the ladder that had led her to this hell.

Vaela raced in an arc around the Meteor, Timura’s unmoving form the only thing she saw. She slid down to her side and rolled her face up. She couldn’t be…

Timura’s eyelids fluttered open, her gaze unfocused. She coughed weakly and bloody spittle flecked Vaela’s face. “Vae… la…?” Her chest rose and fell in erratic crests.

Vaela touched her cheek, tears dripping onto Timura. “Don’t talk. Y-you’re going to be…” The words died on her lips. Be okay? She didn’t look down at Timura’s chest, not at the clearly broken ribs, the sunken area. What hope did they have? Soon the Meteor would drag her mace over and Vaela would suffer the same fate. She might even die before Timura.

Timura bent her elbow and her hand flopped down to touch Vaela’s. “Just w-… wanted be… strong…” A tear leaked from the corner of her eye. Pain contorted across her face, pain that had nothing to do with her broken body.

Vaela looked away, sparing Timura one tendril of privacy. Motion in her peripheral vision caught her attention. The Meteor stumbled forward, twenty paces away, the mace dragged behind her. She tripped and caught herself. Her head slumped down, but her eyes stayed trained on Vaela. Through it all, she kept an iron grip on the mace, hauling it step by step towards Vaela and Timura.

Death, even stumbling, rushed towards them. Vaela glanced around the arena for something, anything. The bent staff laid behind the Meteor, Timura’s staff was lost–tossed somewhere into the dirt. A glint of metal caught Vaela’s attention. Timura’s hoop, right where she’d dropped it at the beginning. Maybe salvation.

She crawled over and retrieved it. The Meteor mindlessly turned and continued heading towards Vaela, her feet carrying her almost without thought. Vaela returned to Timura and the Meteor redirected once again, slowly closing the distance. Ten paces away.

Vaela held the hoop over Timura’s head. Shadow called from her blood. Too much blood. The healers would come. They had to. If Timura lost and Vaela hooped herself, they would come. She released the hoop.

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Timura batted it away and gasped, eyes widening with pain. She wheezed, her breathing wet, the air rattling through blood-slick airways.

Vaela grabbed the hoop again, but Timura shook her head in a small jerk. Vaela held it poised over her, hands shaking. “Why? You’ll die otherwise…”

Timura’s eyes stared far past Vaela, glassy and unseeing. “Won’t… give… in…” Her pupils constricted and focused on Vaela. “For… you…”

Vaela squeezed her eyes shut, a tear forced out. Stupidity. That Timura would have to prove herself an equal, that she’d die an agonizing death, a fool’s death. Behind her, under the rising tide of the crowd’s cheers, the mace whispered across the dirt, an anchor dragged along the seafloor. In this, she’d drown–the crowd’s thirst for blood, the Meteor’s thirst for victory, Timura’s thirst for–for what?

“Kiss… me…”

A sob rose in Vaela’s chest. She set the hoop next to Timura and bent down. The whisper of the mace rose to a roar behind her, so close. It rose until it stopped directly behind her. Timura’s breathing, so light on her lips.

Yes. In this, she’d drown. In Blood and Shadow.

Their lips met, salty from tears and blood. And Timura opened herself to Vaela. Her Power buzzed through the blood, a gate unlocked. From only the few drops seeping from Timura’s lips, a torrent of Shadow rushed to Vaela. Far more Power than she’d ever sensed from Timura, far more than the volume of blood could possibly contain. An entire life in these few drops.

Could she? Accept such a burden, carry it so close to death? Vaela cradled Timura’s face, her blood on her tongue, her life upon her lips. Yes. In this, she’d drown.

Through life and darkness, awash in Blood and Shadow, Vaela swallowed.

Shadow screamed through her veins and she arched upright. It pounded through her body, tearing down her arms and legs, ripping through her heart. Timura’s essence–familiar, yet aflame with desire. An aching for worth. Vaela let herself drown and drown in the darkness, Shadow clawing through every inch of her body. It Flowed through her entire being and she jolted to her feet. The world Faded around her.

No more running, no more sinking. She turned and faced the Meteor. The woman’s chest heaved, the burned tissue rippling like jagged earth, the mace held high overhead. The Meteor Swung it down and the stone hurtled towards Vaela’s head. If death wanted her so bad, then let it take her.

When only every drop was spilled.

Vaela screamed and raised her right arm overhead, bracing it with the left. Shadow raged through her body and she drowned and drowned. The world around her dwindled away–so deep was she, the heart. And she wouldn’t fall.

Not until every drop.

The mace Smashed into Vaela’s forearm. The impact rippled through her like a distant echo. So far away, the physical world. Her arm dipped under the force and deep with the Shadow, her bones snapped.

The Shadow burned away in an instant and clarifying pain jerked her back into the physical world. Her right arm, broken but held overhead by the left. The momentum of the mace–stopped by her body. The pain from her arm and rib flooded back into her. She gasped and threw her arms to the side, the stone following suit. The weight jerked the mace from the Meteor’s hands, though she offered no resistance. She stared wide-eyed at Vaela, looking as shocked as Vaela was that she had blocked her attack.

Vaela’s broken right arm dangled from her side. Her body–empty of Shadow, but full of pain. And in this, she’d drown–her enemies and any who meant her loved ones harm.

She shouted and kicked the Meteor in the chest. The woman stumbled back, clutching her wounds, and Vaela tackled her. She clawed her way up to the Meteor’s head while the woman thrashed like a wild animal. Vaela smashed a fist into the Meteor’s temple and her head snapped to the side. The Meteor flailed and punched into Vaela’s ribs. Pain shot through her and Vaela buckled to the side. The Meteor bucked her off and rolled on top. Vaela raised her right arm and the Meteor swatted it away, driving a spike of pain through it. She looped her hands around Vaela’s throat, crushing her airway. All of the woman’s weight leaned onto her hands, as if throttling Vaela was the only thing keeping her upright.

Black and red spots exploded throughout Vaela’s vision. She punched the Meteor with her left fist. The woman’s grip weakened. Vaela’s entire body burned, her limbs turning leaden. Darkness crowded around her and she struck again. Her fist cracked into something and the Meteor’s grip loosened further. Vaela raised her arm again and it barely responded. The world burned away, a haze of darkness and pain, growing more and more distant.

But not until every drop.

She slammed her fist forward again and the Meteor collapsed. The pressure on her throat eased, though with the weight of the woman on her chest, she could barely breathe. Her vision blacked out and only a dull buzz filled her ears. Throughout the arena, only rustling and whispers.

Vaela’s limbs tingled as feeling faded back in. She strained against the Meteor’s body with her left hand and shoved her off. Air rushed into her lungs with the release of weight. She rolled to her side and then pushed to her feet. The arena erupted into cheers, a clap of thunderous sound breaking the void.

Pain ached through her broken rib, her broken arm, her damaged hand, her entire body–and Vaela screamed. She thrust her bleeding, trembling left fist into the air and she stared down at the Meteor’s unconscious body and she screamed. So fierce she could barely feel the pain. So loud she could barely hear the crowd around her. The celebration of the crowd died out, leaving only Vaela’s screams to fill the arena. They stared down at her and she screamed because she was alive.

A sob choked off her scream and she stumbled back. Once again, heavy silence hung on the arena, as breathless as she felt. She hobbled back to Timura’s unconscious body, bloody foam bubbling from her lips. Beside it, the hoop laid where Vaela had dropped it. She grabbed it and almost toppled, bracing against the ground.

Let this be over.

She shuffled back to the Meteor and released it. It ringed her neck, the metal glinting like a halo around the woman’s head. The crowd roared back to life, the arena shaking from the stomping. Vaela retrieved the hoop and returned. She held the hoop over Timura’s head. The healers could help her, they could save her. She wasn’t too far gone.

Please don’t let her be too far gone.

She dropped the hoop. As it fell, a shudder ran deep through Vaela, down to her very essence. Not pain, not a physical sensation. Yet one that resonated through the fiber of her being. The world felt as if it shifted under her feet, though nothing moved. The hoop landed around Timura’s neck with a dull thud–the only sound in the entire arena. All around, people wore puzzled expressions. She wasn’t the only one who’d felt it.

Her eyes fell on Hermit. He looked confused, but different from everyone else. A look of recognition, like seeing an unexpected acquaintance at one’s door. His eyes met hers and a chill ran through her. Maybe more like seeing an unexpected enemy at one’s door.

Something important had just happened.