The Trials of Ruin and Longing

Lys

Lys woke up that morning to a slight throbbing in her finger. She brought her hand up towards her view, grimacing as she imagined how fucked it'll look. She had just flopped into bed last night without setting her finger. But to her surprise, it was set and healing normally. Lys sat up, staring at her hand, as she took a few sniffs. No strange scents. Not even Revel's scent of whiskey and smoke lingered anywhere.

That was when Lys noticed the shadows that had formed a little pool in her palm. One lone tendril drifted to her finger and wrapped itself around her healing finger. Something bloomed in her chest as she realized while she was asleep, her shadows set her finger bone, and was now acting like a brace. Lys wiggled her finger a little and found that it moved well enough. A little pain, but she was sure it'd be fine soon.

Lys stalked down her hallway, brushing a hand down the empty walls. She had no decorations, plain furniture she had collected from thrift shops. A rickety brown dining table with six matching chairs. A brown sofa with a massive tear in the back sat before a glass coffee table that was covered in papers and items of all shapes and sizes. A comically large TV was mounted in the corner by her sliding glass doors. Her kitchen was equipped with a toaster, gleaming stainless steel appliances, and an espresso machine Lys paid a ridiculous amount for, something Revel teased her relentlessly for. As soon as she thought of his name, a knock pounded on the door. Lys just smiled and shook her head. Perfect timing.

"It's literally noon. How have you not gotten up yet?" Revel, clad in a gray zip-up hoodie and black jeans, pounced the moment she opened the door. Lys scowled at him.

"It is not noon, dumbass. Now why are you here?" Lys had shit to do today, and just wanted to get this conversation over. At least, if this is visit is what she thought it was.

"What happened last night? I tried to follow you, but you were gone." His amber eyes traveled over Lys's face. His eyes narrowed at the much smaller cut on her face. Narrowed further at the shadow brace on her finger.

"It was nothing, Revel." She went to turn around, intent on a latte. But she felt a broad hand grab her elbow and stop. Lys looked back at Revel, rage rising at the fucking audacity of this fucking asshat. She bared those teeth, hissing at him.

"We both know shit happened in there. When I went after you, I could smell your blood and you weren't there," Revel snapped. "So don't fucking tell me nothing again." Lys grinned like a shark as she stepped back, ripping her arm from Revel's grip.

"Nothing." Lys slammed the door right in Revel's face and locked it before he could get a chance to push back. She heard Revel's snarl through the door as Lys took a look to admire a job well done. She pranced to her kitchen, listening to Revel trying to scare her into opening the door. It was mostly the same, harmless threats over and over. And Revel had never actually done anything to uphold those threats. He has, however, sat on her porch till she came out. He did it for a week once till she finally gave in. So Lys was safe until it was time to go. Which unfortunately she had a job to complete in two days. And a lot prepwork to get shit going. She just hoped she could manage to speed up some of those processes.

Lys prepped her coffee, and as it was brewing, grabbed the TV remote off the counter. She turned it on, flipping through a few channels till she came across a talk show discussing the Trial game from this year and theorizing what might come next for the Trial next year. She watched them discuss possible candidates that are up for grabs. Powerful, rich, and snobby ass people filled the screen as they talked between themselves. She snorted in disbelief. The Trial was basically a death trap. Anyone knew that. Even the people who played knew that. But a shot at a share of four million gold pieces was enough to try for some folk.

Lys knew she probably would stand a good chance in the Trial. Training in thievery, stealth, craftiness, and manipulation for as long she could remember, she was, effectively, an assassin. She did occasionally kill night shift guards, but those were more of a last resort. She did enjoy fist-fighting though. Loved the brutality of it, the pain it caused, but also the joy of the movement. And she was good. Good enough to hold her own against most opponents, big or small. She usually spent her Tuesday nights at an underground fighting rink. Sometimes she watched, sometimes she competed. When she did compete, she always got a big payout. Lys imagined the Trial would be a lot like that. She liked watching the games, but with her past, probably would never get a chance to compete. She turned away when she heard a ding behind her. She grabbed her mug, taking a slow sip to test it. When it wasn't too hot, she chugged it down. Tossing the mug in the sink, she turned and returned to her bedroom to get ready for a day of errands.

Lys had chosen a simple outfit for the cold winter air. She wore a cream sweater that was a size too big, and blue jeans that showed off the curves of her hips. She left her hair down, the ruby strands glinting in the weak sun. As she walked out the door, her small leather backpack in hand, Revel had jumped up.

"About damn time, Lys. I was starting to get worried," He said, the fake sweetness dripping like honey from his lips. Lys frowned at him.

"Stop that, it's gross." Lys motioned with a hand to Revel's face as she walked by. His eyes flashed with confusion.

"I'm not doing anything." Revel retorted to her as she walked away.

"You can't stop spewing bullshit." Lys tossed over her shoulder with a lazy smile. "It's gross. I'd go get it checked out by a healer, if I were you." She walked into the city, leaving Revel to scramble after her in shock.