Chapter 1.

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1..2..3..4......10.
Again.
1..2..3..4......10.
fists clenched.
again.
and again.
in all the languages i know.
again.
from one to ten.
till my heart beat slows and tears disappear,
I count until the tension leaves my body.
The pain is still there. It will always be but the anger is gone.
For now.
I get up from the wall I was leaning on. Seeing the damp marks of my sweat on the bricks. I check my daggers again.
Two on my waist, one inside my sleeve, one in my waistband and one inside my boot.
A bow slung across my back. A special bow.
I let out a sigh, my voice trembling.
I had almost destroyed everything.
I was so close. His face was on mine. Just one strike and I would have been kicked out. One strike and I would never be able to restrain myself from kicking him to death.
His sneer keeps returning back.
The way he had leered at me, a poor imitation. Words spilling out of his mouth spelling out the ways in which his father had taken my mother.
Bastard.
On and on he went till I couldn't hear him anymore, or see him in fact.
The red haze of rage had overtaken.
Numbers had meant nothing.
I couldn't remember which number came after one.
It was anger. It came before and after anything and everything.
I had spit on his face. I had not reached for my dagger. Oh no. I wanted to feel his blood on my knuckles. Feel my fist pound into him over and over again. Flesh against flesh. Till his flesh held no more meaning.
Until he was an empty husk devoid of breath.
I leaned forward to do all that and more only to be pulled back and pinned under strong arms wriggling like a fish. Struggling to land one punch. One goddamn punch.
All the while he stood there laughing, joy in his eyes.
That bastard, Lasiq.

I now, willed myself to walk back to The Katana. I had to find Saroul the owner of the strong hands that had held me back. Lord Saroul Trist, son of Yarranna Trist, Heir to the province of Tristal and also my only friend, was a godsend. Without his silent, steadfast ways I would have been sentenced to The Pit on my very first day in The Katana.
I was an angry kid back then, lashing out at everyone in my vicinity. Ten years is the mandatory age for joining the Katana. Most of the royal kids joined at around 7, mastering the art of weaponry at an earlier age than normal children.
I joined when I was twelve. I wasn't normal. I wouldn't even be attending The Katana if it was not mandatory to attend one of the four Blessed Saro's. After all I was the daughter of a..
"Rayana..." I turned only to be assaulted "....catch"
by apples!?
"I covered for you in tracking class. Just make sure you sniffle or fake a cough if you come across Mrs. Tesadora" he said, taking a big bite out of his apple.
I nod hoping he knows that I'm thankful to him for so many things.
He stumbled to the side as Celiene shoved him to get my attention.
While Saroul and I, both were from the province of Tristal with our golden brown skins, dark hair and oceans, Celiene was from the province of Hojour, with their fair skinned beauties, gold spun hair and mountains.
"Are you okay!?" she asked, her face twisted with worry.
If it wasn't Celiene I would have been sure that I was being mocked. These Hojour women were so genuine that it probably even confused the Gods. I had met one who had chased me all the way through a village that I had held a knife to her throat only to learn that she had been chasing me to return a piece of fabric I had dropped.
Not waiting for me to respond, she turned towards Saroul and started chanting on how Lasiq should be sent to The Pit for a week for his behaviour and It was very irresponsible of The Katana to let him get away with it.
Little did she know that The Katana was for warriors, for honing the human body and mind into weapons. And a weapon would not do if it had cracks and weaknesses.
Taking pity on Saroul, for he was too good a man to stop her ramblings, I grabbed him feigning some urgent matter.
When we had steered clear of her I asked "Why do you put up with her if you don't like her?"
Normally people would not be able to see his change in demeanor but live around him for years and anyone could see his tells as clear as day.
He sighed wearily "She means no harm and why do you put up with Lasiq and not go tell The Katan or at least the council?"
"You could have just said that your father asked you to take care of her." I grumbled under my breath put off by his question.
No.1 rule about bullies, telling anyone with authority would only EVER make it worse.
"And The Katan...really? Like he would ever see me." I said, holding my breath.
I caught a glance at my time contraption and let loose a gasp.
The metal contraption with it's hundred of turning things was invented by Saroul, himself. A feat of such high acclaim that even the The Balain - The Blessed Saro of wisdom had written him a letter asking him to join their Blessed Saro where all things brainy was taught, a thing never done before.
Why he had decided to attend The Katana, he still wouldn't tell me.
My hand shook with fury again as I saw my mangled time contraption. It had broken earlier because of that blasted Lasiq.
Another thing important to me was broken by him. This was gifted by Saroul for my 15th birthday.
Before I could choke in my own misery, he slipped the contraption off my hand wordlessly and just said "I'll make you another."
Bless him.
Remembering why I had even glanced at it in the first place, I bid goodbye to Saroul placing a small kiss on his cheek to thank him while watching him rub it off making a disgusted face.
I had somewhere to be. Somewhere even Saroul should not know.
I grabbed Haro, from her stall feeding her a treat and letting her knickers soothe me.

I mounted her and then I rode to meet The Katan.

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