The grounds were frequently used, if the permanent benches and carefully groomed sand were any indication. Along the middle of the far side of the oblong area was a raised section, covered to protect from the elements and filled with twelve individual seats, one for each of the bandrona. At the centre sat a copy of the great throne, its curving, twisting wood fanning out from the seat back with ominous grace.
Katja warred with her nerves, adjusting for the dozenth time the thin leather straps that fastened her sheathes to her back. Lewan had been roughly hauled off to the crowd, relegated to the role of highly partial observer. There were no calming words other than the ones she herself could conjure.
A roar went up from the crowd as the Ambassadors took their seat, followed by the Commander. The lithe young man in front of her, destined to be one of her three opponents, rolled his shoulders to loosen up while shooting her a broad grin. Heda was speaking but she could make out none of the words, though each emphatic statement was cheered at great volume.
At last, the four combatants were lead through the small stone tunnel and into the arena to even greater applause. Katja caught Lewan's eye from where he was seated to the left of the Commander's section. He nodded calmly and touched the tip of his index finger to first his nose, then his forehead, a quiet message to center and focus.
They were brought to a halt in a neat line in front of Heda, who drew all eyes to her as she once again began to speak.
"We are gathered here today to witness the Trial of Three, called by the Council to judge the worthiness of this stranger to be called a member of the Coalition. Victory in the Trial will reinstate the position of 'Kovakeryon on the Council as an advisor to me…" Lexa waited a moment while the murmuring died down, "and failure will result in execution. This is a battle to submission. A fighter may yield at any time and their decision is to be respected without question. Is that clear?"
"Sha, Heda." All four voiced their agreement, though three of the four looked none to pleased by it. Submission was a rare condition in Clan fights and seen as the more cowardly option relative to death.
"Very well. Podakru, you shall go first, followed by Boudalankru if required, and finally Azgeda. Do not shame yourselves or your Clans with dishonourable combat. Show yourself worthy to be called a warrior of the Coalition army and may the gods point the way to the truth."
"Sha, Heda." Again, in unison, they responded before the Boudalankru and Azgeda fighters were escorted to the sidelines. Ontari, the dark-haired Azgeda choice, glanced back over her shoulder with a look of pure malice, clearly eager for the Trial to reach the third round for her opportunity.
Ashok took his place at the centre of the arena, armed with a very long, thin blade and a large square of light netting. It was weaponry that Katja was unfamiliar with, and not commonly seen on the battlefield, but rather more ceremonial and favoured by the athletic warriors of Podakru for situations such as these. She drew her own twin swords and gave them a practice twirl, feeling their weight and balance for the first time in weeks. Nia had chosen the Trial carefully, knowing that Katja was both weakened and out of practice.
"Stot au!"
Katja barely had time to react to Heda's command to begin as Ashok quickly whipped the net towards her legs, hanging on to one corner and using it as a sort of weighted lash. She leapt the rope and landed gracefully in a crouch, ducking a rapid jab from the man's blade. She backed off slightly, earning jeers from the crowd.
He circled her slowly, looking for an opportunity to distract or entangle her. She circled with him and watched his body language for signs of an advance. Although slight in build, she knew better than to underestimate him, ignoring several feints to her weak side with his blade and paying very close attention to the movements of the net.
"You do not fight like a barbarian." He grinned at her down the length of his sword, blue eyes twinkling with what could only be described as mischief.
"Do you think me one?"
"I heard tell of a filthy wildling caught in the woods…" he paused to hop forward, their weapons clashing together with a loud clang as he tested her defenses, "but it appears that my sources were quite blind."
Katja snorted derisively and pushed forward, alternating the blades in sweeping arcs. If she could get close enough to him, the length of his own weapon would become a hindrance and the danger of the net would be largely mitigated. He was no stranger to this tactic and stepped backwards as quickly as she advanced, maintaining a cushion of space.
"Is it your words or your net that I should be more concerned with, Podakru?" She spun left as he flung the woven trap once more in her direction.
"Whichever you find more intriguing." The cheeky grin returned as he spun the net idly in hand. She could only shake her head at his cockiness.
He dipped his left shoulder slightly then, a tell that she had picked up to indicate an incoming sweep, only to be surprised by a straight stab with his sword. She deflected it at the last moment and went on the offensive, charging in too quickly for him to counter with distance. He was forced to parry her blows right at the hilt of his sword, the long blade too awkward to maneuver in such a tight space. He did, however, manage to wrap the net cleverly around one of her forearms, immobilizing that sword, as well as her hand.
Katja leaned with force against her free sword, which pushed his blade ever closer to his face. She relaxed her mask, allowing the unnatural green of her eyes to emerge, hoping to unsettle him. Instead, the smile that graced his lips and the spark of something less than sinister in his own blue eyes ended up momentarily distracting her.
"Stunning." Unphased, he lept backwards suddenly, using her own weight to create forward momentum and pulled hard on the net. The shift threw her completely off balance as her shoulder was wrenched towards him and the rest of her body followed.
Katja stumbled but blocked a blow with the blunt pommel of his sword that had been aimed at her face. Recovering quickly she used forward motion to her advantage, rolling neatly in under the length of his blade and driving her booted foot into the inside of his knee. She rose swiftly, ignoring his yelp of pain and landed an uppercut under his chin, a satisfying click of teeth echoing in her ears as she connected.
Now reeling, he dropped the netting and focussed on fending off her assault with his sword and fist. She could tell from his movements that he was heavily favouring the knee she had injured and guessed that he would be overprotective of the area. She was right. Faking an attack to that side, she waited until he moved his sword to parry and then brought down her stronger sword hand with as much force as she could muster right at the base of his blade. The vibration made her hand ache but had the desired effect, as his weapon dropped uselessly from his fingers.
Still she did not let up, shoving into him with her shoulder while kicking out the heel of his injured leg. They went down in a heap, sending a puff of sand up into the air that momentarily obscured the audience's view. When it settled, the saffron of Katja's sash was the first thing to emerge, showing her straddling her opponent and pinning his wrists on either side of his head.
"Yield."
Instead of responding he tried to twist out from beneath her but she was ready for it, shifting her weight to counter his movement. Crunch. The force of her headbutt broke Ashok's nose, and a trail of crimson ran swiftly down his face to form a dark, sticky patch in the dirt.
"Yield. Or I will break other parts that I'm sure you're much more fond of."
"I YIELD!" He yelled loud enough for the Commander and the adjudicator to hear and the man raised an arm to signal the end of the bout. Bloodied and battered, Ashok still managed a grin.
"Komba raun!" Lexa released a breath she didn't know she had been holding, and ordered the two warriors to approach the throne.
Katja untangled her netted sword, wiped both blades along the outsides of her thighs and returned them to their sheathes. She offered no aid to her opponent, knowing that his pride would see him refuse it and instead strode calmly to stand in front of Heda. Ashok, hobbled by his knee, came slowly behind her at a limp.
"Ashok kom Podakru, you have yielded. Do you acknowledge that the fight was fair?" Lexa let her gaze linger a moment longer than proper on Katja before shifting to pierce the dishevelled Lake Clan fighter with a stare.
"The fight was fair, Heda." He put his right arm across his chest, fist over his heart.
"The first Trial has been passed!" Heda raised her voice for all to hear. "Both fought well and with honour. Let us proceed with the second Trial. Bring out Jonas kom Boudalankru!"
From the tunnel came a roar that sounded barely human. Ashok retreated into the crowd with a quick bow to both Katja and the Commander. Jonas, the fighter from Boudalankru, came charging out into the light, his massive arms bare despite the chill, save for a pair of leather bracers at his wrists. He was a mountain of a man, each of his thighs easily as thick as Katja's waist. His choice of weapon was a war hammer that she doubted she could even lift. From the smug look on both his and the Boudalankru ambassador's face, it was clear they assumed this would be a quick victory for their champion.
Katja remained still, casting a quick look to Lewan who simply nodded. Neither had any concerns about the man's size. Bulk hinders speed, and weapon accuracy with a hammer was difficult to attain. She turned to face Heda as her opponent joined her in front of the Throne.
"Jonas kom Boudalankru, do you swear to abide by the rules of the Trial, to fight with honour, and to spare a yielding opponent?" The Commander looked pale, and fought to keep her eyes from sliding over to the slight girl on the right. Her heart had sunk when the opponent draw had been announced. Jonas was one of the fiercest fighters in the entire Coalition army, not only due to his size but also a battle fury that terrified even Reapers. She had seen him cleave a man in two without even breaking a sweat. Heda thought the girl completely overmatched and had pushed strongly for a fight to submission rather than death. To lose Katja to Nia's trickery, now, so soon after their conversations began to lose the stilted formality of captor/captive, was not something she was willing to chance.
"Sha Heda, I swear it." The large man thumped his chest with his fist and nodded. "I will not kill her. That honour will belong to you when she fails."
Lexa glanced quickly at Katja but noticed no change in her demeanour at the insult. The placid calm in and of itself was unnerving. She could feel Titus stir slightly to her right but stalled a moment longer, allowing more time for the girl to catch her breath. Jonas was fresh, whereas Katja had only just finished defeating the net fighter. She could only, however, delay for so long.
"Very well. To the center." They complied.
"STOT AU!"
Based on the quick reaction of Ashok the previous round, Katja anticipated an immediate attack from her new opponent and was not disappointed. With unexpected speed, Jonas lunged forward, bringing his hammer in an upwards arc that, despite his assurances to the Commander, would have killed her if it connected.
Lexa tightened her grip on the arms of her throne and caught Nia's smirk out of the corner of her eye.
Leaning as far backwards as physics allowed, Katja managed to avoid decapitation and as she straightened, drew both swords from their sheathes. The hammer came again, this time horizontally, and so it repeated, the small figure of the girl dancing out of the way of a furious series of attacks from the enormous man. She had to admit that he was not as oafish and slow as appearances would have led her to believe. He came with a tireless energy and fast pace that soon had her breathing heavily. She knew that the weight of the hammer would eventually wear him down as well, and hoped to be able to withstand the onslaught until then.
His footwork, for such a large man, was impeccable, and his positioning as a result was difficult to find any sort of gap in. She found herself needing to approach closer than she would have liked, and well within striking distance of that cursed hammer in order to overcome her shorter arms and weapons.
On one such pass, he grabbed out at her as she darted by and managed to lock his fingers around her forearm, planting his foot and using her own speed to fling her like a tiny projectile towards the edge of the arena. Katja had little time to orient herself before the side boards that separated the sand from the spectators loomed large in her field of vision. With a sickening thump she hit the wooden planks back-first, forcing the air from her lungs and blurring her vision momentarily.
To Heda, watching from her throne, it was as though the next few moments played out in agonizing slow motion. Jonas stomped his way towards Katja's prone, unmoving body and with one massive, meaty hand, wrapped it around her throat. As though she were made of paper, he hoisted her off the ground and off of her feet, her booted toes dangling a good foot from the sand. Yield. The Commander sat forward in her seat, praying to call an end to the fight quickly, as soon as the words were spoken. For god's sake, yield!
As Katja's eyes regained the ability to focus, the first thing she saw was her opponent's scarred, smirking face. She clasped both hands futilely around his wrist but refrained from squirming, not wanting to encourage him to tighten his grip. He seemed unsure of what exactly to do with her, like a slightly surprised cat that had finally caught that tormenting mouse. He held her far enough away from his body, preventing her from attempting to land any blows, so she did the only thing she could think of, dipping her chin and biting down as hard as she could into the flesh of the man's hand.
The metallic taste of blood hit her tongue as an enraged yowl came from her opponent. The desperate move had the desired effect however, and as he unconsciously drew his hands back in towards himself and his hold loosened, she saw an opening. Reaching out with both hands, she gripped the back of his right bicep and pulled herself further forward and stretched as horizontally as possible within his grip.
The look of realization on Jonas' face hit just a second before her right knee impacted his jaw. He dropped her like a rock and sunk to one knee while she rolled sideways out of harm's way, shaking her head as though to clear it. The crowd roared its approval.
She made swiftly to retrieve her weapons but he recovered quickly, charging after her like an angered bull. Spinning, Katja dodged the first flurry of punches aimed at her head by ducking and rolling around behind him. She caught the dull metallic gleam of his war hammer laying forgotten in the sand and was struck by an idea. If she could not lift the hammer to strike him, she would lower him to strike the hammer.
Carefully she baited him, renewing the dangerous leap and dance that had gotten her flung earlier in the bout. With each miss he got angrier and swung harder, eager to beat her to a pulp. She had lasted far longer than any had expected and it was a serious blow to his ego. Amongst the cheers and calls of encouragement he could hear the mockery and cat calls from some of his fellow warriors at his inability to finish her off. It made his blood boil; it also made him sloppy.
As he threw his considerable weight behind yet another wild swing, she ducked quickly under his arm and threw her own about his waist. Sliding her foot well foward into the heel of his boot, she felt the already off-balance man tilt dangerously backwards and jerked with all of her strength. Jonas' arms flailed in a futile attempt to keep upright, but her body weight attached to his back ensured that the only way to go was down. Rotating as they both fell, she propelled him towards the ground, hoping that her timing and distance were on the mark.
The large man's head narrowly missed the corner of the metallic hammer head, instead hitting with a resounding crack against the thick wooden shaft. His body went slack immediately, pinning her legs and half of her torso under his bulk. She lay there a moment, lungs burning from the effort, before worming her way out from underneath him and dusting the sand from the creases of her robes.
She could barely stand, having expended so much energy that even breathing seemed too much of a strain, but she knew that appearances, in this case, were everything. Straightening, she started towards the Commander, chin high and shoulders squared, stooping only to pick up her swords and resheath them.
As Katja approached the raised section of stands she could feel Heda's stare, but chose to seek out the Boudalankru ambassador, giving him a small nod of acknowledgement before saluting the Commander.
Lexa eyed the girl closely, seeing beneath the facade to the exhaustion that she was desperately trying to hide. Impressive. Heda flicked a look at the adjudicator, who grabbed Katja's wrist and raised it high, signalling her victory. They hauled Jonas' unconscious body from the arena unceremoniously by his feet.
No sooner had he disappeared than Ontari stalked into the center of the arena with a sort of feline grace, reminding Katja a great deal of the large cat that had been her travelling companion. The girl's teeth were bared, as though she knew no other facial expression than the murderous hatred that currently settled on her dark features.
"The Second Trial has been passed!" Heda's voice boomed out over the crowd, beginning another surge of cheers. Bets on "the little one" for the last bout had made some men very wealthy, and her determination was winning her admirers throughout the gathered Clansfolk. Truthfully though, in a fight against an Azgeda opponent, it was not difficult to be the crowd favourite. "One Trial remains, that of Ontari kom Azgeda! Do you both swear to abide by the rules of the Trial?"
They did. Katja risked a quick glance at the Azplana, seated over the Commander's right shoulder and shivered briefly at the malignant curl of the woman's lips. Nia was smiling directly at her. The older woman nodded her head in greeting and awaited Heda's call to begin.
"Stot au!"
The Azgeda fighter favoured traditional weapons suited to both her size and the arena: a double-edged short sword and a small leather buckler for protection. A long dagger sat sheathed at her hip and one poked its hilt out from the top of the girl's tall boot. Disarming her would require patience.
They were evenly matched. Ontari possessed more cunning than either of her previous opponents and a speed that even Ashok could not hope to match. She calmly probed Katja's defenses, noting with satisfaction that the girl was utterly exhausted, but for the time being able to parry her attacks.
Every blow that Katja blocked sapped her energy. Every swing and step leeched from her dwindling stores, and the worst of it was that she knew the Azgeda knew it too. Her opponent was playing with her, wearing her down as she had just done to Jonas.
She ducked a swing of the buckler and jabbed out with one of her swords, hitting nothing but air as the fresher combatant let out a laugh. Again the girl came at her and this time Katja felt the blade of Ontari's sword bite into the skin of her cheekbone, narrowly missing her eye. She scrambled backwards and touched her fingertips to the flow of black that trickled down to drip from her chin. The smirk on the other girl's face as Ontari flicked Katja's blood off her blade was infuriating.
"Center!"
She heard a voice from the crowd, lifted above the noise of the cheers and yelling with a clarity that startled her out of her thoughts. Lewan. Katja chanced a quick look at her teacher and he repeated the tap of his fingers against his chin and nose. She nodded and turned swiftly to block a strike.
That single word served to energize her and she felt a familiar tingle as the power coalesced into a burning pit in the middle of her chest. Outwards it spread, down her arms, down her legs, into her fingers and along the length of her blade. The crowd quieted somewhat, feeling more than seeing a shift in something intangible. Ontari hesitated, eyeing the fierce glow of renewed determination in Katja's eyes with uncertainty.
It was all she needed to press her opponent. Every move, every swing felt now like a comfortable extension of herself; her tired feet ached but did as they were asked, artfully moving around a startled Ontari with otherworldly grace. Katja met her opponent's blows not with glancing blocks but resounding clangs, boosted by adrenaline and the encouraging shouts from the spectators.
The blood from the cut on her cheek ran down into the corner of her mouth, but she ignored it, allowing it to drip a trail that marked her steps through the sand. Ontari had been disadvantaged only a moment, and now attacked with the same confident skill with which she has started the fight. It took all of Katja's concentration to keep up.
It really was something to behold, the two warriors darting and diving around each other like whirlwinds. Each gain was hard fought, and inevitably followed by a retreat as the other retaliated until Katja managed land a particularly hard blow to Ontari's shield. As the Azgeda stumbled backwards, Katja stepped in, planting her shoulder squarely into Ontari's stomach and driving her to the ground.
Her opponent paused on all fours, breathe heaving in great gasps as she tried to recover. Katja prowled forwards warily, striking a solid kick to the girl's ribs and flipping her over onto her back. Ontari regarded her with a look of pure hatred, as she spat a wad of black blood from her own mouth into the dirt. Katja's eyes widened, staring at the dark patch in confusion.
Natblida?!
She saw the quick flash of a grin before two fistfuls of sand were thrown into her eyes, stinging and scraping the tender flesh like nettles. She heard the cry of rage as Ontari got to her feet and charged, and raised her weapons in as defensive a stance as she could. It did very little against the thump of the Azgeda's weight against her thighs, sending her backwards as they rolled together, coming to a stop near the center of the arena.
Ontari was on top of her and though she bucked wildly, she could not dislodge the girl, nor clear the scratching sand from her eyes. Ontari spat again, this time splattering Katja's face with her bloody spittle. "Did you think yourself special? Yours is not the only nightblood outside the Coalition's reach." Her fist connected with Katja's lip and split it wide.
"How...how is it possible?" Katja grunted at the pain but managed to catch the next blow, as hazy and blurred as her vision was, in her hand, stopping it inches from her face.
A bark of laughter from Ontari was all the answer she received, along with a punishing strike to her ribs from the Azgeda's free hand. Her opponent seemed to take great pleasure in inflicting whatever pain she could en route to what she clearly assumed would be a victory over the stranger.
Katja, rather than tensing, relaxed. In the fist she grasped she had the contact she had been seeking. Abruptly she dropped her barriers and let the rush of emotion flood in from Ontari. Shame, fear, anger, apprehension….it struck her as hard as would a punch, but she grit her teeth and and sifted through it in milliseconds. She pitied the girl, if this had been her life. It was no wonder that she had become the coiled ball of rage atop her.
She felt the energy condense in the palm of her hand against Ontari's knuckles and met the surprised girl's eyes with an apologetic look before flooding the worst of the memories and emotions back at the dark-haired warrior in a concentrated mass. The reaction was instantaneous. Ontari's head flew back, the muscles in her neck straining as she screamed, clawing at her head with her other hand and trying to scramble away from Katja.
The sound was heart-wrenching. Katja had never before used her abilities to harm another living thing. She was a healer of all wounds: physical, spiritual, and emotional; to cause such anguish, even to someone intent on her own demise, went against everything she had ever stood for. She lay motionless for a moment, trying to reconcile her actions as necessity before her will to survive took over and she got to her knees. Lunging forward she grabbed the still screaming girl by the ankles, causing Ontari to topple face first into the sand. Katja crawled quickly onto the flailing girl, gripping her wrists and using her weight to keep her pinned.
Ontari's hands were wrenched painfully behind her back and held in place by Katja's hand and torso. She shoved them further upwards and was rewarded with a grunt of discomfort from the Azgeda warrior. Using her free hand, Katja dropped her sword and rammed Ontari's face into the coarse sand of the arena floor, grinding the grains against the girl's skin momentarily before yanking her head back by a fist full of hair. Both were breathing heavily, gasping from exertion.
"Yield!"
"Jok of." Ontari's growled reply carried a note of quiet fury.
Katja again shoved her opponent's face into the ground, holding it there for longer in the hopes that the difficulty breathing would convince Ontari to cede the match. The Azgeda girl's legs thrashed frantically before Katja once again pulled her head back.
"Yield, there is no shame in it."
"Perhaps not to you filth," Ontari ground out amidst coughing fits, spitting a mouthful of sand and keeping her eyes closed against the invading dirt, "submission for me is the same as death."
Katja frowned at the statement and could not decipher whether Ontari meant the Commander, the Azplana, or someone entirely different. Regardless, the girl's stubbornness would require harsher measures. A third time she pressed the dark-haired warrior's face first into the loose sand, ignoring the frenzied kicks of Ontari's legs as she mercilessly restricted access to oxygen. Slowly she felt the girl's muscles relax, all signs of struggle fading with one last kick of her feet. Katja held the position a few moments longer, giving a final shove to the back of the Azgeda's head. There was no reaction.
Katja let go of her grip and sat back resting a moment atop her seemingly unconscious opponent as the adjudicator raised his arm to signal her victory. A cheer grew slowly in the crowd until it was a roar, the wave of sound almost deafening. The Trial of Three had been passed. She had done it.
She pushed herself unsteadily off of Ontari's still form, beginning to make her way over to where the match adjudicator waited in front of Heda's throne. Looking up, Katja caught the glint of a blade rising above the Commander, the cold light gleaming menacingly as it reached the peak of its swing.
"NOOO!" With what little energy she had left she sprinted towards the Commander, loosing two of the throwing blades from her belt before even completing her first stride. Both found their intended target, with one pinning the hand holding the blade to a pillar by the throne and the second sinking hilt-deep into the neck of a wide-eyed Nia. The Azplana's sword clattered from her lifeless fingers, bouncing harmlessly from Heda's knee to lie across the toes of her boots.
All attention was focussed on the seats of the Bandrona as the remaining eleven shrunk away from the Azgeda leader's traitorous body and linked to shield the Commander from further attack. Titus fussed about like mother hen, checking Heda for wounds and ordering the guards to clear a path for them back to the Tower. No one, in the excitement, noticed that Katja had made it no further than that first step after killing the Ice Queen. An arm of steel had wrapped around her neck as she started her run, jerking her backwards into the warm body of her attacker, who tsked in disapproval and chuckled darkly in her ear. She felt the tip of a blade poke threateningly into her back. "Next time, make sure to kill me."
"Heda!" Ontari's voice rang clear in the confusion and everyone, including the Commander, stopped to turn towards the center of the arena once more. Having seen the assassination attempt fail, the warrior had decided to carry out her part of Nia's original plan. With Nia dead, the leadership of the Azgeda clan was hers for the taking.
"Ontari kom Azgeda the fight is over! Step down!" Heda's frown obscured most of her eyes, leaving only the black war paint to signal her displeasure. "You dishonour yourself and your clan."
"The only dishonour here is permitting this thing to live." Ontari could see members of Heda's personal guard circle around to flank her on either side. She would have to be quick. Her feigned unconsciousness had bought her enough time to do what needed to be done. "You put your people in danger for your own ego Heda. These are powers not to be trusted, not to be meddled with. My people knew it generations ago as surely as they do now."
"The Trials were agreed upon by the Council and have been passed. These are our laws, these are your laws." Lexa's struggled to appear calm, the other girl's words giving a hint as to what she intended.
"I reject such laws that would jeopardize Clan lives, as should you." Ontari spun to address the gathered masses, raising her voice. "Your Commander does not protect you! She is driven by greed and a lust for power! Nia kom Azgeda saw it, I see it, and if nothing is done, the Coalition becomes a puppet of a lunatic unfit to hold the title of Heda."
Murmurs broke out among the crowd as people eyed the Commander nervously. Some appeared to warm to Ontari's tirade, their fear of what Katja represented far greater than any benefits they could see. Others, disgusted by Azgeda's lack of honour, grumbled their disagreement.
"I shall deal with this as it should have been dealt with well before arriving in Polis." Ontari shifted slightly, planting her feet in a staggered stance and tightening her forearm around her captive's throat. She could see the guards approaching out of the corners of her eyes. "I, Ontari kom Azgeda, rid the Clans of this menace. I take her spirit into me, I absorb her powers for the good of the people."
Lewan let out a strangled cry as he flew past the Commander's guard to the attacker's left. To his horror, still several steps away, he watched the tip of Ontari's sword slide, as though in slow motion, between Katja's ribs and out through her front, black and glistening in the sun. His fist connected with the Azgeda girl's face just as she released her captive and he followed through with another, and another, knocking Ontari to the ground and pummeling her until she was unrecognizable.
Lexa's quiet "No…" went unheard by most, save for Titus, whom she shrugged off as she leapt down from the stands, taking off at a run. She ignored Lewan's battery of the offender and made straight for the wounded warrior in grey.
Katja, wide-eyed and open-mouthed in surprise, made eye contact with the Commander as she slowly sunk to her knees, hands gripping the blade protruding from her chest in disbelief. There was no pain per se; she struggled to process the panicked look on Heda's face as the edges of her vision began to cloud. She felt steady hands grip her shoulders, though whose they were she couldn't say. The sun felt impossibly bright, the air impossibly cold, and as her eyes slid shut she welcomed the peace that the darkness brought.
Stot au - start; begin
Jok of- fuck off, or fuck you
Komba raun - approach, come around