Solak | The Cost of a Dream
Two years had passed. Two years since she had last seen Rohan. She held those memories in a cage in her mind and took them out for inspection whenever things became hard. She would always miss him, and it felt lonely without him, especially when she was so alone in this place. She still hadn't accepted that he was the one who had left, still didn't linger on that point.
"Hey! Solak!" She looked up from her stretches as a small group of the other squires surrounded her. Sighing, she popped her neck before standing straight.
"What can I do for you, Lask?" The eyes she pinned him with were bored and worn with habit.
"Why don't you polish my shoes for a starter?"
She glanced down, taking in the boots caked with mud and dust. "No. Ask one of the servants to do it for you. I'm busy."
"Oh, but a slave should always make time for her masters. Surely your… training can wait. You'll be assigned as a soldier anyway, better get used to following orders." The boy smirked, certain he had found the perfect argument to humiliate her.
"Say, Lask, if you have enough time to be ordering Solak around, then surely you're capable of beating her." The instructor's voice cut through the crowd of youngsters, twisting a grin onto Lask's face.
"Of course, Instructor Halen."
The delight in his voice made a chill creep down Solak's spine. She could feel the eyes in the yard turning towards them.
"Well, Solak?" The instructor was staring down at her, eyes sharp. She understood he was giving her a chance to prove Lask wrong.
She nodded briefly, glancing Lask up and down. He had grown recently, now standing just over a head and a half taller than her. She had watched him practicing and noted the awkwardness in his limbs as he adapted to the growth spurt. If she wanted a chance to beat him, now would be it.
"What conditions?" She asked in a low voice, watching Lask observe her in the same way she had.
"Regulation weaponry. Lask, pull your punches."
"Don't." Solak cut, meeting Lask's stare. "If I'm arresting someone larger than me, they wouldn't." The instructor nodded. Lask's grin had turned feral and malicious.
They both hurried over to the weapons rack. The guns on this one were emptied of powder and shots, so there wasn't any risk of him trying to shoot her. She strapped the holster to her leg, then chose a short sword and sheathed it on the other side.
She bounced on the balls of her feet lightly before returning to where the instructor waited. Surprise would be her main strength here, as well as speed. She was small and fast -- she only had to get inside his range.
Lask joined them, his expression thoughtful.
"First to get the other to surrender wins." The yard was still and silent. Even the knights were surreptitiously watching, trying not to show any interest. "Positions."
The two youths faced off. Solak leaned forward, shifting her weight onto the balls of her feet. A cocky grin crept onto Lask's face.
"Go."
She darted forward in a burst of speed, her elbow connecting with his stomach. As he doubled over, she brought her knee up, hitting his nose as hard as she could. There was a soft crunch. She hoped it was broken. He stumbled forward, letting her trip him easily. She flattened him against the ground with her knee as she drew her gun and aimed it at the back of his head, pressing the cold metal to his skin.
He shifted under her. She dug her knee in deeper and made sure he felt the barrel of the gun. The silence in the yard was thunderous.
"I surrender." He ground out.
She straightened with a small smile and bowed to the instructor. She stepped into the loose circle of people who had surrounded them, carving herself a passage.
Drops started to fall from the sky, heavier than the silence. There was a slow rumble in the distance.
The storm continued into the night hammering the tiles continuously. Solak was woken by the quiet sound of the door opening. Even under the rain she had always been able to hear the slightest sound. She wasn't quick enough to stop a cover being thrown over her bed, over her, and pinned down tightly.
"You know, blows through a futon don't leave bruises." The whisper of Lask's voice reached her through the layers. She barely had time to form a thought of dread before it was forced from her body.
This was a different kind of pain. This was muted but still strong, like a pin being driven into fabric. The blows continued as she curled into a ball.
Rohan… Please Rohan, help me…
She wasn't sure how long she was pinned down, only that by the time he left she could no longer stay conscious.
The day came with sunshine. She wasn't sure if she could move. She had to move. She forced her limbs to do her bidding, ignoring the sharp ache throughout her body. He couldn't cow her. She had been through more than he could even think of.
He stared as she strode into the yard. She stared back, green eyes piercing his. Her hair drank in the sunlight. There was the haughtiness of a queen in her demeanour. He bowed his head and looked away.
The sun shone on the puddles casting rainbows on the water.
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