The Arena Breathes Fire
The arena had fallen into silence, broken only by the relentless ring of steel and the ragged breaths of the two warriors. Every eye was fixed on Lyra and her opponent, the air heavy with the heat of their clashing wills.
The untouched fighter charged again, his blade whistling through the air in an overhead arc. Lyra darted sideways, the blade slamming into the stone where she'd stood, shards of rock scattering like sparks.
But pain lanced through her side with every movement. Her ribs burned. Blood stained her tunic, soaking into her belt.
Lyra (inner monologue, gritting teeth):
Every step hurts… every breath feels like glass. But if I stop moving—it's over.
Her amber eyes locked onto his.
Lyra (inner monologue):
I won't let him think survival made me weak.
---
The Predator's Roar
The untouched fighter bared his teeth.
Opponent (snarling):
"You should've fallen already! That wound should've ended you!"
He spun, blade carving a wide arc. Lyra ducked low, the wind of the strike ruffling her hair. She thrust upward, her blade grazing his shoulder. Blood spattered across the dirt.
The man staggered back, fury in his eyes.
Opponent (roaring):
"Enough!"
He surged forward, slamming his boot into the ground, his blade swinging with enough force to crack the earth beneath.
Lyra raised her weapon to block. The impact was monstrous. Her knees buckled, her arms screamed, and the world blurred. She was thrown back, skidding across the dirt.
Dust rose around her as she coughed, clutching her side.
Lyra (inner monologue, gasping):
This strength… it's like fighting a storm head-on…
But her hand never let go of her sword.
---
Kaen's Turmoil
In the stands, Kaen's body leaned forward instinctively, his fists trembling.
Kaen (inner monologue, furious):
She's bleeding out there… She's pushing past everything her body can take.
He bit his lip so hard it bled.
Kaen (whispering):
"Lyra… don't break."
Beside him, Riku's eyes narrowed. He saw more than just a fight—he saw the thread of Lyra's will tightening with every clash.
Riku (softly):
"She's not fighting him… she's fighting the idea that we don't belong here."
---
Lyra's Memory
For a heartbeat, Lyra's vision wavered.
She saw flames. Not from this fight, but from the riverlands—the burning torches, the screams, the desperate clash for survival.
She saw Fin collapsing, his small body trembling. She saw Daren's scream of anguish. She saw Kaen standing, fists clenched, refusing to bow.
Their faces lit in her mind like sparks in the dark.
Lyra (inner monologue, fierce):
This isn't just my fight. I carry all of them with me.
---
The Rise of Fire
Her opponent lunged, blade raised to split her open.
But this time—Lyra didn't retreat.
She stepped into the blow.
The blade carved a shallow cut across her arm, blood spraying. Pain seared her flesh.
But in that same heartbeat, her blade shot forward like a spear of light.
It slashed across his chest, tearing through his tunic and leaving a gash that bled red.
The untouched fighter froze, eyes wide, breath ragged.
The crowd gasped.
Lyra (panting, voice sharp):
"Pain doesn't decide who wins. Resolve does."
---
Opponent's Fury
The man's face twisted, humiliation fueling his rage.
Opponent (roaring):
"You dare wound me?!"
His blade swung in a storm of strikes—wild, furious, merciless. Each swing shook the ground, sparks flying as Lyra barely parried, her arms screaming under the weight.
She stumbled, slashed across the thigh, across the shoulder—blood dripping from multiple wounds now.
Every strike cut away at her body, but none cut away her fire.
Lyra (inner monologue, gasping):
My body's breaking. But my heart… my heart's not done yet.
---
A Survivor's Flame
As another brutal strike came, Lyra shifted.
She twisted her blade, deflecting his with a flash of sparks, and in the opening drove her knee into his stomach.
The untouched fighter grunted, staggering.
Her blade followed—slashing across his cheek. A thin red line marked his face.
He touched the blood in shock.
Opponent (snarling):
"You… filthy survivor!"
Lyra's chest heaved. She was trembling, barely able to stand. But her glare was fire itself.
Lyra (hoarse but steady):
"We're not filthy. We're the ones still standing."
---
The Arena Reacts
The survivors, battered and broken, erupted in shouts.
Survivor (shouting):
"Show him, Lyra!"
Another Survivor (yelling):
"She's proving it—for all of us!"
Even Fin, pale and weak, forced his voice through his pain.
Fin (hoarse whisper):
"Don't stop… Lyra…"
---
The Clash That Burns
The untouched fighter roared again, fury overwhelming reason. He lunged with a downward strike meant to cleave her in half.
Lyra screamed, raising her blade with both hands, her entire body straining.
The impact thundered across the arena. Stone cracked beneath her feet.
For a moment, it seemed she would be crushed.
But then—her eyes blazed.
Lyra (shouting):
"I… WON'T… BREAK!"
With a primal roar, she shoved his blade aside, twisting her body.
Her sword slashed upward, tearing across his chest once more, deeper this time. Blood sprayed.
The untouched fighter stumbled back, clutching his wound, gasping in disbelief.
The survivors roared louder than ever.
And Lyra—bleeding, trembling, barely standing—raised her blade high.
Lyra (panting, defiant):
"This… is the fire of those who refuse to die."
---
The Weight of Blades
The arena floor was a battlefield of dust and blood. Lyra's body swayed as she stood, every limb screaming with pain. Her opponent, though wounded, still loomed like a storm—towering, breathing hard, eyes burning with rage.
Opponent (spitting blood, sneering):
"You're still standing? Pathetic. You should have fallen ten strikes ago."
His chest rose and fell sharply, blood dripping from the fresh wounds she had given him. But unlike Lyra, his body hadn't reached its limit. His fury only seemed to fuel his strength.
Lyra (panting, defiant whisper):
"If you're so sure I should've fallen… then why am I still here?"
Her blade trembled in her grip, slick with sweat and blood. Her knees bent, ready, though every nerve begged her to collapse.
---
The Predator Advances
The untouched fighter roared and lunged again, his sword slamming down like a hammer meant to crush stone.
Lyra twisted at the last heartbeat, but the blade grazed her shoulder, tearing open another wound. Her cry escaped as blood sprayed across the dirt.
She stumbled, vision spinning.
Lyra (inner monologue, reeling):
The world's tilting… my legs won't hold me much longer.
The untouched fighter smirked cruelly as he advanced.
Opponent (mocking, voice low and venomous):
"See? You can't stop me. You're nothing but broken scraps of the real soldiers we were meant to be."
---
The Survivors' Desperation
From the sidelines, Kaen's voice broke through the chaos.
Kaen (roaring, furious):
"Get up, Lyra! Don't you dare let him say that!"
His fists pounded against the railing, knuckles bleeding from how hard he clenched them.
Fin, lying weak and pale on the healer's cot, forced his trembling voice through cracked lips.
Fin (whisper, almost a plea):
"Lyra… don't… give in…"
Even Riku, usually calm and unreadable, leaned forward. His jaw clenched, his eyes sharpened.
Riku (soft, but with steel):
"Stand. Show him what a survivor's fire truly is."
---
The Chains of Pain
Lyra tried to straighten, but her ribs screamed with every breath. Her wounds bled freely, painting her arm crimson.
Her opponent raised his sword high, a shadow eclipsing her.
Opponent (booming):
"This is your end!"
The blade fell.
Lyra raised hers.
The clash thundered like the cracking of mountains. Sparks exploded. The shock drove her to her knees, her arms nearly snapping under the weight.
Lyra (inner monologue, strained):
I… can't hold… this much longer…
Her vision blurred. The blade loomed closer, pushing her down, inch by inch.
---
Memory of Ashes
And then, through the haze of agony, memories flared.
The riverlands—blood and mud. Kaen screaming as he carried two survivors across the flooded ground. Fin clinging to life in Daren's arms. Riku cutting a path with silent precision.
All of them broken. All of them still alive.
And she remembered her own oath, whispered under her breath the night they survived the second trial:
Lyra (memory whisper):
"As long as I breathe, I'll carry their strength with me. I'll never bow."
---
The Spark Rekindled
Her teeth ground together.
Lyra (growling, defiant):
"I… said… I WON'T… BREAK!"
With a roar torn from the depths of her lungs, Lyra twisted her blade, shoving his strike aside. Sparks flew as steel scraped against steel.
She surged upward, ignoring the searing pain in her side.
Her blade slashed across his arm, tearing flesh.
The untouched fighter bellowed in rage and pain, stumbling back, clutching his wound.
---
The Arena Erupts
Gasps filled the arena. The survivors shouted, voices cracking with hope and desperation.
Survivor (shouting):
"She's doing it!"
Another (yelling):
"She's cutting him down!"
Kaen's throat tore as he screamed, his voice echoing across the stands.
Kaen (roaring):
"YES, LYRA! SHOW HIM WHO WE ARE!"
---
Opponent's Desperation
The untouched fighter's fury twisted into something darker—panic.
Opponent (snarling, wild-eyed):
"You think a weakling like you can stand against me?!"
He attacked again, a storm of slashes, each one wild but filled with enough force to cleave stone.
Lyra blocked the first, dodged the second, parried the third—but the fourth slashed across her thigh. She cried out, stumbling, blood streaming down her leg.
Her vision swam, the world tilting dangerously.
Lyra (inner monologue, staggering):
I can't… my body's too heavy…
The man's blade rose for the final strike.
---
The Flame That Refuses to Die
But just as the blade came crashing down, Lyra's eyes blazed.
She saw Kaen's fury. She heard Fin's whisper. She felt Riku's gaze.
And she remembered Daren's voice—firm, unyielding—from when he stopped Fin's blade with his own:
Memory – Daren (echoing):
"Because I'd rather betray this world than betray you."
Lyra's grip tightened.
Lyra (shouting, voice breaking, tears in her eyes):
"I WON'T BETRAY THEM!"
Her blade surged upward in a desperate arc.
The two swords clashed—then hers slipped through his guard.
Her strike cut across his chest, deep and merciless.
The untouched fighter screamed, stumbling backward, blood pouring from the wound. His sword dropped, clattering to the ground.
---
The Arena Holds Its Breath
Silence.
Lyra stood, trembling, drenched in blood—her own and his. Her blade dripped crimson, her chest heaving like a dying flame refusing to fade.
Her opponent fell to his knees, clutching his chest, gasping. His eyes widened with disbelief.
Opponent (hoarse, broken):
"How…? How did a survivor… bring me to my knees?"
Lyra swayed, but her eyes never wavered.
Lyra (panting, voice raw but proud):
"Because… we don't fight for pride… we fight to live."
And with that, she raised her sword again, ready if he dared to rise.
But he couldn't. His strength bled out onto the dirt.
---
The Survivors' Roar
The survivors erupted in deafening cries. Their voices shook the arena itself.
Survivor (roaring):
"She won!"
Another (sobbing with joy):
"She stood against them—she WON!"
Kaen's face cracked into a rare, fierce grin, tears streaking his dirt-stained face.
Kaen (shouting):
"That's our fire, Lyra! That's what they'll never take from us!"
Even Riku allowed the faintest curl of his lips, whispering under his breath.
Riku (softly):
"…Well done."
---
Verya's Cold Judgement
Above them all, Verya's gaze was as sharp as steel. His cloak rippled in the wind as he spoke, his voice echoing across the arena.
Verya (booming):
"Victory—Lyra."
The survivors cheered louder.
But Verya's eyes narrowed, the faintest glint of interest sparking within. For the first time, he had seen the fire of a survivor burn brighter than the untouched.
---