Kings Game

Chapter 24 - Death

"I'll be fine," he said. "I promise to make it home safe."

"I know, I just wanted a hug."

"You've been clingy all week," said Kell.

"You weren't complaining last night."

"I would have complained if you were awake, you took up the whole bed and stole the covers."

"I get cold at night! Not all of us produce as much body heat as you do."

Roran left them to their banter and departed. He followed the path back to the training arena, passing quickly through the street where Timara had attacked them. The stonework was just as Nul had left it, a drooping mess. There were signs on the road warning people of the uneven ground and a large hole where Timara had been trapped. Her chain was still there, a handful of links visible where the stone had been broken apart.

Roran felt his mood drop even lower. Defeating someone like Timara seemed impossible, let alone the three Kings. Keeping his head down, Roran hurried to the training arena.

Once there, he tied the beads around his focus markings and closed his eyes, diverting energy from his body into the markings and bringing the beads to life. The effort exhausted him. His whole body ached and he wanted to lay down. After a brief hesitation, Roran did lay down.

Lying on the ground, Roran forced himself to activate the focus markings and watched as the beads flickered to life. He lied there, feeling his energy drain out of him and fuel the beads. He wondered if this was what a lamp felt like.

Once he was accustomed to the sensation, Roran forced himself to his feet and started walking laps, keeping the beads lit the entire time. As he settled into the exercise, Roran was able to pick up the pace, moving around the arena in a light jog. A few laps later and he felt as though—given enough time—he might actually be able to catch up to Kell and Timara.

Deciding to push himself further, Roran drew his sword and attempted to run through some of the drills Kell had taught him. Before he had finished the first exercise, the beads went dark. He relit them and tried again. Once more, the beads went dark before he finished the drill. After the third failed attempt, he gave up.

Sheathing his sword, Roran relit the beads and ran laps until he felt like dying. Coming to a halt, Roran decided he was done. His legs were shaking and he was beginning to feel the frail exhaustion from yesterday coming on. The last thing he wanted to do was pass out in the training arena, so he decided not to push himself. In total, Roran had spent less than thirty minutes training.

Once his legs stopped shaking, Roran left the training arena. He didn't want to pass through the melted alleyway again so he went the long way around the city, passing through several streets new to him.

Turning down an empty street, Roran heard the crying of a baby. Looking up, he saw an open window and a woman bustling back and forth, taking care of an infant. He thought of his mother. The few times Roran had been sick his mother had doted on him even more than usual. He smiled at the memory.

As he was about to leave, he paused, seeing a familiar figure sitting on a nearby bench. He waved. "Hi Sarah."

(2)

Sarah gave him a half hearted wave in return. She was slumped on the bench, her shoulders drooping. Despite her obvious exhaustion, she still made the effort to give him a smile.

"Hi Roran."

He sat down next to her. "Are you okay?"

"Tired," she said. "Trying to avoid work."

"I'm surprised you're working at all. You don't look so good."

Sarah scowled at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"