If you think it's long-winded and goin nowhere, then I agree with you. But I don't care. I'm getting all these details in whether u like it or not! :
Leandra = Latin for "lioness"
The room was dark and stunk heavily from the sweat and heat coming off of the two bodies in the room. Despite this, Helena knew every inch of her old dwelling from training in it every day of her life and living in it for the first ten cycles of it. However, this evening marked the longest she had ever been fighting one round of training against her guardian without losing. Her body was covered in scratches and stab wounds from Athelstan's knife. All day her body had bruised and healed from kicks, punches, and falling on the ground. She stood tense on the far side of the room while her guardian stood on the opposite side, resting for the first time that day. His own body held bloody wounds from this fight; it was obvious to both of them that this was no longer training. His wounds were in lesser number, but he was not used to such infirmities since before Helena was born. Now after she had lived sixteen cycles, he would not let her beat him without the threat of death waved in his face. He kept his eyes on his opponent at all times, never letting her out of his sight.
They had grown accustomed to each other's style of fighting and several times in the last two seasons she had come close to matching him in a fight, but never this close and she didn't seem to be wavering any time soon. She had that hungry look of a killer in her eyes that sent a chill through Athelstan because it was so similar to that of a vampire before she devoured her victim. He couldn't count the number of vampires he had killed in his lifetime, which was no small feat. At this point, this struggle was a test of endurance; who would outlast the other? Unless, something unexpected happened.
As if on cue, Helena lashed out her aura at him before he could duck out of the way. It was like a whip cracking on his bare chest and he fell back a few steps from the blow. Helena didn't waste a moment and continued her attack. She ran towards him lashing out her aura as much as she could. When she was ten paces from him, she dodged under his own mental attack and lunged for his gut. Her shoulder collided with his solar plexus and she slammed his back against the stone wall. He recovered fast and lifted his knee into her diaphragm, leaving her breathless. He took the advantage to wrestle out of her vice-like grip and lock her head in the crook of his arm. With his free hand he grabbed her arm and twisted it painfully behind her back. Before he could dislocate her shoulder, Helena threw a burst of power behind her, a move she had never performed before, and it collided with Athelstan's head. Before he knew what was happening, he fell back to the ground, his vision momentarily blurred, as she reversed their positions, and dislocated his shoulder. He yelled in pain but Helena didn't miss a heartbeat. She drew his knife from the ground, he hadn't known it had fallen, and thrust it fast towards his heart. She stopped it short just as it barely touched his skin, and twisted it to mimic obliterating the vampiric heart. Compared to his shoulder, the knife practically tickled. The move left behind a small red dot as its only mark.
"You're dead," she said in a low, breathy voice. To Athelstan's painful shock, he had lost a fight. She stepped back and waited for him to rise. She knew there was no argument. Helena had allowed neither her nurse nor her guardian to enter her mind in four cycles and tonight she proved that she possessed the skill to kill even another Triste in a fight.
Athelstan stood and moved over to the stone wall. She shoved his injured shoulder into it biting back a scream. He had to force himself to rotate his relocated shoulder and ignore the pain. Tomorrow it would be too stiff to use if he didn't. He noticed that Helena offered him no aid, and betrayed no emotion as to whether the pain she had caused him pleased or upset her. He had trained her well.
"Well?" she pressed. She wanted her title.
"MARIKA!" he yelled upstairs. Helena rolled her eyes in annoyance. She didn't see why Marika had to be the only Triste around to witness this statement. As Marika opened the door, the first burst of light that day flooded the room, causing Helena to squint. "Did you accidentally kill her, Athelstan?" Marika's voice was sickenly hopeful.
As soon as her feet touched the stone floor, Athelstan declared loudly, "Helena Leandra Triste, you are a true Triste by blood and prowess: a predator of evil and protector of good. From this day on, you are free from the care of your guardian and nurse." He had to take a staggered breath, his body was still recovering. "You are-"
"Wait, Athelstan," Marika sneered with a sadistic gleam in her eyes. "Helena has yet to mate. She is not yet free."
Helena's heart skipped a beat. This couldn't be true. She couldn't stay with either of them another day longer, not after she was guaranteed her title. It was inhumane. Athelstan looked Marika dead in the eye, and then looked intently into Helena's clear blue gaze. "Helena, you are free from this dwelling, from your guardian, and from your nurse. As is law, you are to procreate twice to continue our line." Helena smirked at Marika's downcast face. She shoved Marika out of her way as she ran outside of the house that had been her prison her entire life. She didn't care about her wounds or hunger. She was free, and that was greater that food or health. She walked to the lake in the woods that surrounded their city, no her city. There was no longer a "they" just Helena. On the other side of the forest lay the village where her mate waited for her.
She scrounged up enough energy to wash her wounds and face clean. She felt out the area around her with her aura. She sensed animals, insects, the wind, the citizens of the city, and even Marika tending to Athelstan's wounds. She sensed no vampires or werewolves or shape shifters, even though she had only met a vampire once in her life. Marika had kidnapped it and brought it to Athelstan. She had been made to probe its mind and kill it. Both Tristes told her that this vampire was very weak, but to Helena he was a frightful sight and presence.
Helena lay down by the lakeside and drifted into a dreamless sleep. Fourteen days ago she had experienced her monthly fertility cycle, and she thought she was primed for mating.