A hush descended over the crowd. Tension pulsed through the air as the Matron and Sister stared each other down.
She has a fire in her belly, Thepa thought examining the unknown Matron. Like the rest of the recruits, she was young. Still, the Matron was far from green. The hard lines of her muscles and the fearless gleam in her eyes spoke of one with experience.
Yet Vivian, ever the stoic Sister, revealed nothing. Her expression betrayed none of the storm Thepa imagined might be brewing beneath her calm exterior. Unlike herself, the Sister wasn't afraid.
Thepa's thoughts drifted back to yesterday's conversation, a knot of worry tightening in her chest.
"And if you lose?" she asked.
"Then I would have lost with the grace of a warrior. There is no shame in that."
Vivian's fight shouldn't have bothered Thepa, but for some reason it did. Vivian was a proud satyr, carrying the weight of the Beachwick on her shoulders. It wasn't unheard of for a Matron to leave the Beachwick in shame, but it wasn't exactly common either. If Vivian lost in such a public display, Thepa knew it would not sit well with her. If that was the case, she didn't know what Vivian would do. She wasn't ready to lose her trusted advisor and friend.
The crowd began to stir, restless murmurs rippling through the ranks until a single voice rose above the din, rhythmic and sharp.
"Sulack..." Stomp... Stomp...
The chant grew, more voices joining, stamping in unison.
"Sulack..." Stomp... Stomp...
The tempo quickened, the ground shaking beneath the force of their collective will. It was as if the very earth drummed in time with the rising bloodlust. The crowd was hungry for a show, and if it wasn't delivered, Thepa feared they'd demand it another way. Even Lily, who Thepa had come to know as mild-mannered had succumbed to the chant, swept away by the primal rhythm.
"Sulack ..." Stomp... Stomp...
"Sulack ..." Stomp... Stomp...
"Sulack!" Stomp... Stomp...
"SULACK!!!"
At the crescendo, the tension snapped. The unknown Matron tilted her chin skyward and let out a feral roar before charging Vivian, abandoning the weapons rack a few feet away. For an instant, surprise flickered across Vivian's face, but it vanished just as quickly. She shifted her hooves into a defensive stance, her great axe at the ready, but it was exactly what the Matron was expecting. Instead of an attack, the Matron grabbed the weapon with both hands, used her body's forward momentum, and twisted hard while she and the weapon went cartwheeling past a now very surprised and unarmed Vivian.
As the Matron came out of her turn, she continued to use her body's momentum. With all the strength she could muster she vaulted the battle axe far outside the arena to more cheers of the bloodthirsty crowd.
"SULACK!" she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth.
"SULACK!" the crowd echoed, rallying behind their champion.
Thepa remained silent, her matriarchal composure barely masking her internal panic. It hurt her soul knowing the only thing she could do was watch as the Sister attempted to recover from her disarmament.
You can do this, Thepa thought as she watched Vivian's eyes dart towards the untouched weapons.
Vivian appeared as if she might try one of the less experienced options, but something changed. Instead of going for one of the weapons, Vivian looked in Thepa direction and the two locked eyes and stared into each other's souls. As they stared, silent words were exchanged amidst the taunts and jeers of the crowd.
Finally, Thepa knew she had no reason to worry. It was the reason Vivian made such a good Sister in the first place. Sulack wasn't about pride, winning, or losing. There might have been pride in winning, but there was no shame in loss. The true meaning of Sulack, the reason they did the competitions every completion, was not for themselves but to bring honor to the Beachwick. Whatever the outcome between the fierce warriors was, all of the Sisterhood were the winners.
Though she knew there was no way Vivian could hear them, she recited a line from the Call of the Beachwick.
"Esha includes, Esha provides,
We serve the Sisterhood, we live and die."
"What was that?" Lily asked, her voice almost drowned out by the rising din of the crowd.
"Fifty gold on Sister Vivian," Thepa replied, ignoring the question. Her eyes remained locked on her friend.
Vivian nodded slightly in her direction, acknowledging the unspoken bond between them. As the rhythmic chant of Sulack surged through the arena again, Thepa continued to murmur the rest of the Call of the Beachwick under her breath from start to finish.
"Esha includes,
Esha provides,
He deserves our duty,
Our sacrifices
His sacred jungles
His grainy beaches
Where younglings go
To learn what it teaches
Esha includes,
Esha provides,
We serve the Sisterhood
We live and die
Our way of life
We must conserve
Our lack of parenthood
Taught us to preserve
Our loving mother
The Matriarch of all
We the Sisterhood serve your call
If we fail, to the mountain it be
It's the way of the satyr for you, for me
Esha includes
Esha provides
I will serve my duty
I will give my sacrifice
As Thepa quietly sang, a sudden, earth-shaking roar ripped through the air. The sound erupted from Vivian's throat like a volcano, a scream so primal it shook the ground beneath them. Her face flushed a deep crimson, and veins bulged along her neck and arms as her muscles tensed with raw energy.
"SULACK!" Vivian bellowed as she charged.
Thepa had never seen her move so fast. In one smooth motion, Vivian closed the gap between her and the Matron, her fist flying toward her opponent's face. The unknown Matron reacted quickly, blocking the blow, but Vivian's relentless speed and ferocity kept her on the defensive. Every punch forced the Matron to retreat, until finally, she saw an opening. With a quick jab to Vivian's jaw, the Matron managed to push her back a few paces.
"Sula ..." Lily started to say but stopped when she realized what the rest of the crowd already knew. The punch should have done more. Instead, Vivian rotated her head, spit out a mouthful of blood, brought her fist back up towards her shoulders, and charged, giving Lily just enough time to say, "No bet."
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The Matron's confidence visibly faltered. She retreated into a defensive stance, but it did her little good. She managed to parry a few punches but missed a sideways jab that nailed her square in the stomach. The blow knocked her forward, and Vivian seized the moment. She brought her hornless head down with crushing force onto the winded Matron, sending her sprawling to the ground.
The arena erupted in cheers, but Thepa was the first to leap to her hooves. For the first time that day, she let out a cry of celebration for her friend's hard-earned victory.
"SULACK!" she shouted, her voice rising above the roar of the crowd.
All in all, it was a well fought fight. Vivian might not have been the champion the crowd wanted, but they didn't care. They got the show they needed. For now, the bloodlust was abated and for that, Thepa was grateful.
As the crowd began to thin out in preparation for the final event, Thepa and Lily hurried down to the arena. Matron Efos had already distributed healing potions to the wounded warriors. When they arrived, they found Vivian helping her opponent to her feet.
"You fought well, Matron Fenia," said Vivian, clapping her on the shoulder. "Now that I've seen what you can do, I expect next time you won't hold back. These old bones still have some fight left in them."
"Forgive me, Sister Vivian," Fenia replied, her gaze briefly flicking to Vivian's hornless head. "I was wrong to underestimate you."
"Never underestimate an opponent. That's where we make mistakes," Lily offered.
Fenia looked surprised, her eyes widening as she sized up Lily, clearly doubting the young human's knowledge of combat. But Vivian nodded in approval.
"Lily speaks from experience. Don't let her appearance fool you—she's far more dangerous than she looks. I'll see you at the crowning ceremony."
Fenia bowed low, hands outstretched, before departing. Once she was gone, Vivian turned to Thepa and Lily, her voice quieter.
"Maybe it is time for me to step down," she mused. "These younglings are getting stronger by the day."
"That's your choice," Thepa replied, "but I think you still have a lot to offer the Sisterhood."
The three of them left the arena and found some food. They didn't linger long, knowing the final event would soon begin. Thepa, however, had other priorities. She needed a few moments at the range to prepare for whatever challenge Ciary had planned, and it had been too long since she last notched an arrow. After eating quickly, she bid her friends farewell and hurried toward the range.
To her surprise, she found the range occupied. A Matron already practicing, lazily shot arrows at a distant target. As Thepa approached, the Matron paused mid-draw and turned toward her.
"Matriarch?" she asked, startled.
"That's a good sense of awareness, Matron..." Thepa paused, waiting for her to fill in the gap.
"Sonia," the Matron said, her eyes dropping to the ground.
Thepa looked down range at her shot groupings and found them to be scattered all over the place. She gave Sonia a kind smile and thought a word of encouragement might help the poor soul.
"Nervous?"
"Not exactly, Matriarch," Sonia replied, her tone uncertain. "Just hoping to get in a little more practice. Sister Ciary says it's important for good form."
"She's right," Thepa agreed. "In Wildehaven, they taught us 'practice makes perfect,' but that's not exactly true."
Sonia looked at her, puzzled in disbelief. "Really?"
"Yes," Thepa replied.
Thepa stepped up to the range and fixed her eyes on the target. Grabbing an arrow from her quiver, she notched it, her breath steadying as the world around her seemed to slow. She felt the wind's subtle shift against her ears and focused on the red target, fifty feet away. In one smooth motion, she released both her breath and the arrow.
Even after all this time I found my mark. The warm sensation spreading through her body made her giddy for what was to come, but for now she smiled besides herself.
"Good practice makes perfect," she said to Sonia. "Never forget your breathing."
Sonia bowed deeply, hands outstretched in gratitude. "Thank you, Matriarch. I'm glad I came here today."
Thepa was about to express her gratitude, but a long horn sounded in the distance, signaling the start of the next round. She quickly suggested they make their way to the arena. Together, they hurried back toward the other side of town, arriving just in time to hear Ciary's announcement.
"In honor of the Beachwick and our new Matriarch, the Sisterhood of the Beachwood will host a simple archery contest. Each Matron will receive five shots," Ciary declared, gesturing toward the makeshift range.
Fifteen brightly painted targets stood in five rows with various distances, each with a red center, yellow middle, and blue border.
"One point for rewarded for each arrow in the blue area, two for yellow, and three for red," Ciary continued. "Matrons are free to choose any target, but longer distances will multiply the points. As always, our newest recruits will go first."
"Certainly lacks the punch of the first two events," sighed Lily. "Almost not worth betting on."
"Don't be deceived," Thepa replied as the first five Matrons took their positions. "What it lacks in spectacle, it makes up for in skill. Archery is a lot harder than it looks."
"Skill?" Lily scoffed. "Look how jittery they are. I've seen calmer merchants about to be fed to sharks."
They certainly looked nervous, Thepa thought, but for many it was their first Sulack competition. Still, they tried their best. Only one dared aim for a target farther out than the closest, and she only hit it once, scoring in the yellow. In total, none of the first group managed to earn more than twelve points.
The second group fared much better. A majority of the shots were taken at the second or third set of targets with a number of them landing in the ring. Higher scores followed, but still the group lacked the necessary skill Thepa expected from a more seasoned veteran. The best of them only managed to score thirty-six points.
After polite applause, Ciary called forward the third and final group. Among them was Sonia, who looked nervous, glancing anxiously at Ciary while sweat beaded her brow.
"Recruits, at your leisure," Ciary barked.
They all fired almost in unison, except Sonia. She waited a moment, took a breath, then released her arrow. It wasn't perfect, but it was closer to the target than anyone else's.
"Again!" Ciary commanded.
Again, everyone fired as one, except Sonia who waited a beat. For the second time, she was the closest, but only just.
"Sulack!" Ciary cried.
"Sulack!" The crowd returned, but Thepa bent forward in interest. For a third time, Sonia waited, and for a third time she was the closest but only just.
Lily groaned. "I was hoping we'd see at least one bullseye on the third target. I guess these ones still have a lot to learn."
Thepa wasn't so sure. She could tell the Matron was feinting.
As they lined up for the final target, Sonia didn't wait. She shot as quickly as the others and for the first time hit the target dead center.
"Matron Sonia is the winner with a score of forty-four!" Ciary proclaimed, her voice ringing out over the cheers.
The crowd erupted, hailing Sonia as the victor, but as Thepa made her way down to the field, she noticed Sonia's hesitation. Sonia kept eyeing Sister Ciary, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but here. It didn't bother Thepa if she won or lost, but she could tell something more was at play.
Therefore, she waited for the Matron to make the first move.
"Matriarch," Ciary called, "as the guest of honor, you have the option of going first."
"Oh, thank you," Thepa replied with a smile, running her fingers over her bowstring. "But I believe the honor should go to our young champion."
Sonia looked like she was ready to lose her lunch, but silently obeyed. She gathered her stance, took a breath and hit another bullseye. Once more the cries of the crowd called out, but Thepa was unperturbed. Instead, she followed it up by destroying the Matron's arrow right down the center of the shaft to even more cheers, then looked her opponent straight in the eye.
"Sulack," Thepa playfully taunted.
The Matron cracked a smile and Thepa watched her compose herself.
That did the trick.
Again, Sonia stepped forward, her confidence now steady. With the same precision, she split the arrow still embedded in the target, just as Thepa had done. The skill was undeniable, and Thepa was pleased to see it, but she wasn't satisfied with the current state of things with such a worthy opponent. The crowd needed to be just as excited as she was. Therefore, she restarted the chant.
"Sulack ..." Stomp ... Stomp ...
"Sulack ..." Stomp ... Stomp ...
Thepa fired without looking. She didn't need to look to know that the arrow had once again destroyed its mark. She just kept the chant going as more and more of the crowd joined in with louder stomps.
"Sulack ..." Stomp ... Stomp ...
"Sulack ..." Stomp... Stomp ...
Sonia met Thepa's gaze, now fully immersed in the competition. She loosed another arrow, hitting another bullseye with precision. Thepa grinned, feeling her own competitive spirit flare.
"Sulack ..." Thepa fired again.
"Sulack ..." Sonia followed.
"Sulack ..." Thepa.
"Sulack!" Sonia.
"Sulack! Sulack! Sulack! Sulack!"
The exchange became a rapid, rhythmic duel of arrows, the crowd roaring as both women fired shot after shot, pushing well past their allotted five arrows. Neither was willing to give in, the quivers on their backs growing lighter with each pull of the string. Thepa thought it might go on indefinitely, until Sonia shot her arrow directly at Thepa's midflight, sending both shafts tumbling to the ground.
The crowd gasped, a stunned silence falling over them. Sonia, pale and wide-eyed, seemed equally shocked by her bold move. Ciary looked on, a satisfied smirk playing at her lips, but Thepa? Thepa felt nothing but pride.
If I'm going to lose, she thought, I'm glad it's to such a worthy opponent.
The hush remained as Thepa lowered her bow, cradling it in her arms. She glanced at the inscription carved along the bow's curve and turned to Sonia with a quiet question.
"Does it sing?" Thepa asked.
"Matriarch?" Sonia exchanged a nervous glance with Ciary, then lowered her bow, uncertain.
Thepa pulled her bowstring tight, the oily twang humming through the air in a resonant, low pitch. She repeated the question, her voice more deliberate.
"Does your bow sing to you?"
Sonia closed her eyes for a brief moment, her ears twitching, as if listening for a sound only she could hear. When her eyes reopened, there was a slight shimmer of tears at the corners of her eyes.
"Its music in my soul," she replied softly. "But the song your bow sings... it's the sweetest melody I've ever heard."
"Well then, Sister Sonia, may you always hear its song. For as long as you do, the Beachwick will have a great protector."
Thepa then bowed low before Sonia with outstretched hands. She went so low, she felt as if her nose would have touched their ground. When she came back up, she once more gave the battle cry for the cheering crowd.
"SULACK!" Thepa roared.
"SULACK!" Ciary echoed.
"SULACK!" Sonia shouted, tears streaming down her face.
BOOM! Went the archery target, exploding into a ball of fire.