“There is a monastic order who reveres beasts as mighty warriors, sometimes even gods. They send their young on a spiritual journey into the Wild to study the beast they resonate with. Ridiculous, really, worshiping those mindless creatures, but they’re some of our best warriors…Those that survive, at least. Best to see if we can twist them to our aims. Would be a perfectly good waste of weaponry to do otherwise.

- Emperor Anthony Lancaster (Private Journals)

I waited there, my leg tapping a rapid beat against the stone floor while the wooden bench creaked under my small movements.

“And that’s TIME! Good job, you two. Would’ve done Zadalk proud with that final roundhouse, Elio. Fought like a monster out there,” Professor Redmoor bellowed, calling an end to the duel. My new friend bowed to his opponent, who only snorted and walked off to join his cohort aside Prince James. Elio didn’t seem to notice as he cheerily bounced back to where I sat.

My leg’s rapid rhythm increased.

One more to go.

“Lysandra! Gavin! On the mat!” Redmoor demanded with as much cheer as was contained in Elio’s grin. The lanky elf sulked onto the combat field where Redmoor waited. One of the boys who had been there beside the high wall when I was attacked stepped up to the hard-packed dirt with a nonchalant smirk.

So, he’s Gavin, I mentally noted. He was well built and had rusty auburn hair slicked back to a sheen. Our eyes met. He smiled darkly.

“Mind if I challenge someone, sir?” Gavin asked loudly.

“There’ll be time for that later, cadet,” Redmoor cut him off quickly. “Now is the time to get a handle on fighting an individual opponent.”

“I’ve been sparring with tutors twice your rank since I was child, Professor. I don’t mean to overstep, but I would like to actually develop here, if you are willing. I would prefer a challenge to really push myself.” Gavin’s words were as greasy and polished as his hair. Redmoor considered his serpentine words with more care than I had hoped for. I knew where this was going even before Gavin hammered the final nail in my coffin.

“What did you have in mind?” Redmoor inquired softly. Gavin pretended to consider it, his eyes scanning over the dozens of students until they landed once more on me.

“How about the famous Fang herself? Surely, a fight with me would be nothing compared to defeating a pack of Shardclaws single-handed…literally.” The other students chuckled and whispered, each of them bold enough to stare at me while Redmoor considered this. I pulled down the cuffs of my uniform, uncomfortable by the attention.

“It’s okay,” Elio stated simply as he sat down next to me. He casually put his uniform jacket back on, hiding his remarkably toned body under its woolen mass. “You are stronger than him.” I shrugged, not nearly as confident in his assessment. Recognizing this, Elio gingerly placed a hand on my shoulder, careful to avoid the bruises there. “You are the Fang. Do the Shadow Lord proud and fight with honor.”

“I will,” I replied softly, turning to Elio. His earnest expression was enough to settle the worst of my nerves. Across the field, a blue skinned warrior gazed at me intently. I shuttered under his sight, and so returned my attention to the mountainous man that would decide my fate.

“Aye, that’s a fair point, cadet Palelake. Alright, Lysandra, stand down. Get ready for the next bout. Cadet Shade, if you will.” Redmoor gestured for me to join them on the combat circle. ‘Ooh’s’ rose up through the gathered crowd as I stood up and approached the circle. Taking the stairs one at a time, I went over my strategy.

“Okay, you dithering half-trolls, let’s go over the rules again until you can hear me whispering them in your sleep,” Redmoor intoned with a mischievous smirk partially hidden behind his sizable red beard. “This is combat training. This is to hone your senses and train you how to fight other enhanced individuals. Be brave. Be ruthless. If you go for a killing blow, however, I will personally rip off a limb of yours of my choosing. This isn’t some official duel, after all.” He grinned at all of us, slowly turning to make sure we all understood him. As this was the fifth match that day, we all knew this little speech by heart.

“Cadet Palelake, to your side,” Redmoor requested tersely. He caught my gaze, and I thought I saw something soften there. But it was gone in an instant, and I decided not to linger on fantasies. He knew what he did.

I was about to be tested.

“Cadets! Ready yourselves!”

“Are you sure you’re ready for this? I don’t if I could put up the same kind of fight that alpha Shardclaw must’ve given you. You sure it wasn’t some Pufflemur that you mistook for a true beast? I know their little talons can look quite scary in the dark,” Gavin shot at me as he rolled his neck and shoulders. He took off his uniform jacket, exposing ridiculously compact muscles across his arms and chest. He unsheathed a dazzling sword of gold and red, striations circling the blade in mesmerizing patterns.

I ignored him.

Instead, I reached into a pocket and grabbed a single piece of cloth. Gasps arose around the crowd as I tied my platinum hair back into a tight ponytail, the orange ribbon catching the afternoon light as it peaked through the overcast clouds above. Gavin paled slightly at the sight of it, and I grinned at him innocently. Behind me, Elio whooped. To the side, Azuris smiled softly.

I couldn’t see Charles’ expression behind the group of nobility he sat with.

“It looks like Artemis decided who was telling the truth,” Redmoor remarked quietly. But given that his whisper was basically at the same volume most people talked at, everyone heard his comment.

“You’re right. I doubt you’ll put up the same kind of fight, Pisspond.” Gavin recoiled as if I’d already struck the first blow.

“You—You dishonor my family name!” Gavin barked, but he turned his back to me as he searched for support in his friends.

“No, you do. The second you jumped me with the other cowards, you lost all honor your puny pride might’ve mustered up.” My words stung him, but he just growled. Hair taken care of, along with my not-so-subtle claim with the orange ribbon, I took off my uniform jacket. Bruises still healing lined my arms and shoulders, and I stretched to loosen up the stiffness in my joints. More gasps rang out, including one from Redmoor.

Two weeks.

Two weeks had earned me these marks. Two weeks of grueling exercise after hours with Elio. Two weeks of ridicule and chastisement from my fellow students and even a few scathing remarks from some staff members. None believed my story that James had attacked me and I slayed an Alpha Shardclaw…By myself, in the middle of the night outside the walls. In fairness, I would’ve struggled to believe me. But that didn’t make Charles’ comments about tall tales for getting attention hurt any less.

I pulled on each side of my head to stretch the muscles of my neck while I took in my opponent. It felt like an eternity ago when we last fought, and he’d restricted his fight to the pole and his fists. Now, with that sword, I knew this would be a tough fight. I was sure he wasn’t joking about his tutelage.

“Want to fight Lysandra now, Gavin?” I teased. He scowled. I grinned. The ward around the circle sparkled into existence, forming a thin barrier between us and the crowd. More people than I remembered being in our class now filled the benches surrounding us.

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“CADETS! FIGHT!”

At his words, I launched forward. The fifteen meters that separated disappeared in just a few heartbeats. Elio’s lessons screamed in my mind.

“Pugilists live on the edge of a knife, my fellow disciple! We do not give our opponents time to think. We get inside their guards and make their lives miserable, all for the glory of the mighty Shadow Lord!”

His fanaticism aside, his instruction proved vital. Gavin recovered right before I reached him. He brought up his sword and slashed upward from his left hip to right shoulder. I dodged to the left. His blade whistled past my ear and nicked a few errant strands of my ponytail. I pressed two runes, one on each bracelet that now adorned my wrists.

Metal whirred to life at my touch, and I flexed my fingers into fists right as the two enchanted gauntlets coated my hands and most of my forearms.

“You poor pup! You’ve been trying to activate this relic with nothing but mental and proprioceptive commands, haven’t you? That’s stuff they teach you in your third year, you stupid girl! Here, from here on out, press these to activate and deactivate your gauntlets. They are always in the same place, so don’t worry about memorizing the rune formation.”

Gorg’s chiding words had been a game changer. Though embarrassing to admit to this short dwarf, I now had a consistent way to use my gauntlets, and had been practicing with them every free moment I had.

I punched toward Gavin’s stomach and he twisted to avoid the worst of the blow’s impact. My left fist, now encased in silver and crystalline armor, slammed into his side with a satisfying crunch of metal against magic. An amulet with a giant green crystal flared to life as the barrier surrounding him like a second skin shimmered at the impact.

That didn’t matter. I was just getting started.

I ducked under a horizontal slash and flipped over my hands to avoid the vertical strike Gavin tried to pin me to the ground with. My breath came light and steady, and I mentally promised myself to thank Elio for the hundredth time for insisting I train my cardio.

“You rat! Stop scampering around and face me!” Gavin screamed in frustration as I dodged two more of his blows, keeping my elbows tucked in tight around my body.

“Only if you promise to put up more of an effort!” I replied sweetly. He growled and launched himself at me.

Perfect.

With a yell, he jumped and slashed down with all his might in a swing that would bisect me if I let it. I didn’t. Instead, I pressed one of the runes that rang along the lower knuckles of my right gauntlet. The gems there, as it turned out, were not just for show. Pressurized air condensed around the large plates that overlapped around my fingers like some tiny rectangular shield. Gavin’s eyes widened as he realized his mistake too late.

I punched, twisting my hips into the motion. The blast released at the apex of my swing and connected almost instantly with the center of Gavin’s chest. He flew back as all of his momentum was overridden by the sheer force of my blast. It was my turn to jump, and I released yet another concussive projectile, but this time at the ground behind me. I twirled through the air right as my opponent’s form was crushed against the combat circle’s barrier. Golden light shivered as it resisted his aerial exit. The crowd, though distorted through the field, collectively winced at the sound.

I landed directly before him, my momentum more than enough to drive past his hastily raised sword and slam my left fist into his jaw. Three short spikes made of the unattuned Shardclaw talons crunched against the green shield and caused dozens of thin cracks to appear across it. I danced around a desperate strike from his sword, but didn’t let him rise from where he had fallen to the dirt. Sweat and dust coated his exposed arms and face.

I shifted my feet and began the dance of death Elio had been drilling me on. It was a vicious and unyielding series of strikes that left no angle untouched and no time for either one of us to recover. But unlike me, Gavin was apparently unused to such unfettered ferocity. My fists blurred with quick and precise movements, slamming against his chest, joints, and face. I ducked and spun, using every ounce of force my slender form could eek out.

“Enough!” Gavin cried. I was thrown back with a pulse of energy. Heat given form condensed around his body. Sweat began to bead down my forehead and into my eyes from the proximity to that impossible warmth. “You are a rat!!! You’re just some commoner who got lucky! Let me show you why you’ll never be anything more than the dirt we stand on now, you penniless whore.” Dignity melted away into malice across his handsome features. It was like we finally got to meet the true Gavin Palelake, and we were the worse for it. I didn’t flinch back. I waited.

Gavin stood slowly, then whirled his blade in a tight arc around him as if to test the weight and balance of the peerless weapon.

“You know,” he whispered just loud enough for me to hear. “I didn’t hate you before. You annoyed me, sure, but all lowborn do. After this, though, when my blade sticks through your gut and cauterizes your innards while I twist, you will know the smallest taste of my hatred for you. We gave you a chance to repent for your sins, and you spat on our generous offer. I’ll have that stolen gauntlet if it’s the last thing I do.” He slowly raised his eyes from where they studied the ground. “You don’t deserve to even be in the same breath as him.”

“Who?” I asked, confusion and alarm racing through me at the dead eyes that met mine.

“Edric, son of Duke Irongale,” he whispered it like a promise. Suddenly, a lot of the intense stigma I’d received from the nobility began to make more sense. They might’ve been the worst, but they still loved. This gauntlet was a reminder that not only did their friend die, some lowborn trash had lived using the very treasure that was supposed to keep their friend safe. I was a constant reminder of what they lost—what they should’ve had.

But they chose to honor his memory with violence and disdain, I concluded, setting my shoulders in preparation for the true beginning of this fight.

“Die, rat.”

He lunged. He sped toward me like a wyvern straight from the second hell. His weapon sang through the air, heat and wind congealing along its blade to strike me down in one crucial blow. Fire started lick along the length of the rapier. Nausea built in my gut at the thought of getting stabbed by that piece of molten metal.

Gavin screamed and stabbed forward. I dodged to the side, but he merely planted his lead foot and spinned with incredible grace.

Professional tutors since infancy, indeed.

Swiveling, his sword slid across my right shoulder. Flames burst from the weapon on contact with my skin. Flesh bubbled and I gasped as tendrils of energy seeped into my body. The area around the wound grew cold. I jumped back and briefly assessed the wound. Where life once existed, the cold blackness of winter I knew so well now creeped along my arm.

The pain was unimaginable.

“Hurts like hydra in heat, doesn’t it?” Gavin inquired casually. He circled me as my right arm now hung limp by my side. Despite his tone, the chilly hatred never fled his eyes. They were bright blue orbs, and the heat from his sword danced in their depths. “Taken from a Frost Phoenix. You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure out what it does.”

I gritted my teeth and spat on the ground. The crowd was still outside of our small arena.

Of course I figured it out, you smug nobleman.

And I had. It burned the wound and then stole my own heat, causing the flesh to flash freeze after increasing its temperature. I was lucky the meat didn’t explode off my limb. If he managed to do more than this glancing blow, I was done for.

Time to show him how I got the nickname.

“Do you know the cure to a Shardclaw’s strike?” I asked instead, deigning not to answer Gavin’s question. His brow furrowed, not expecting this turn of conversation. I smiled sweetly through the misery that drowned my mind. I rushed forward, closing the distance between us in the blink of an eye. He swung for my right side, confident I wouldn’t be able to defend that side with my injured arm.

He was correct, of course. That’s why I didn’t defend at all.

Instead, I leapt forward and smashed my fist into the hand that gripped his rapier. The spikes along my knuckles skimmed the reinforced metal hilt until they made contact with his hand. The fangs atop my gauntlet glowed like a winter pool in sunlight right as they made contact with his exposed fingers. As I’d hoped, his shielding didn’t take into account objects he was already holding. I crashed into him and we went tumbling, but my mission was complete.

He dropped his sword and cried like I’d just murdered his whole family. He clutched his injured hand and watched in morbid fascination as crystalline patterns arced up his grazed knuckles. I landed hard and the air in my lungs escaped with a mighty whoosh. It took me several precious seconds just to let the world stop spinning, and I was grateful my opponent was preoccupied.

“What have you done?!” Gavin screamed right as I groaned and got slowly to my feet. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” The barrier around us disappeared and Prince James of all people stormed toward us. I tried to raise my defenses, but I was tired and in agony of my own. He spared one hateful look at me, then strode past toward his friend. With one quick motion, he knelt next to his friend’s whimpering form and unsheathed a knife. Its edge looked like it could pierce dragon hide, and for all I knew, it could.

“Hold still,” James demanded coolly. Gavin met his iron gaze and slowly nodded. Then, faster than I could react, James drove the blade through Gavin’s top knuckle joint, severing the crystal’s warpath across his body before it could get further. Gavin passed out after a mighty wail. The prince gathered his friend up and carried him away. He paused briefly before he passed me by, no doubt to take his friend to the medical sect.

“Amputation,” he said coldly. Then, with a face set in stone, he turned to me, his friend limp in his sturdy arms. For some reason, I felt a pang of guilt even as my shoulder burned and froze all at once. “The answer to your question…Amputation is the only cure for Shardclaw wounds.” He left. But something in his eyes contained a dark promise, and I knew then that I had made an enemy.

For in that look was a vow of death, and it was all for me.