Ty neither knew nor cared what Mael wanted. At least not now. She had major trouble brewing over at the edge of the passage way as she rounded it on the way to her rooms.
She was well known at home for being a rogue. If there was bullying going on, you could bet your bottom Crown Ty was there, trying to stop it from happening. Many boys around her fiefdom heard her voice in a fight and scattered. Though her arms were weak, and she knew this, she was mighty tricky to deal with, one trick after the next one up her sleeve.
Well, what did they expect? Ty mused, grinning inwardly. It comes from being female, naturally. As she caught sight of the passage to her rooms however, all humor in her died with a sickening crunch.
Three boys were hitting a fourth, who was lying on the floor, looking near unconsciousness. Blood was running from his skull. In the aggressor's fist (for there was only one aggressor, the other were just holding him) were spikes of rough steel, made as if to shine armor. They were going to punch the boy to SHREDS!
Her fury took over before her brain could. Shrieking her famous war cry, she charged toward the bullies, knives lowering into her hands as she ran...
The bullies looked up, and the boy who was punching the unconscious child froze. Ty ran at them, her cry ringing over the landscape. One, two, three! she thought, and kicked the ground hard. Springing off the ground in a jump, she leveled herself to be a thin needle, knife-arms above her head. As the bully blinked, Ty struck him with the power invested in her weight and the speed of her figure. Her legs rammed him into a wall as she rolled and sprang, once more, to her feet.
By now the bullies had understood why she was here. They growled like angry dogs, spitting at the floor in front of her in rage. Ty grinned and closed her eyes.
From deep within her she summoned the animal that had been her guide as long as she had lived. It licked its chops in her mind as it leaped into her body. Hitting the ground quickly, one leg bent as the other was flat on the floor, as you would see the arrow of a compass, she placed both hands in front of her and lowered her face.
The boys had never seen it coming. They had all simply thought of a good night to try out the gloves belonging to Jurisen, but now they realized what big trouble they were in. As the boy, much shorter and thinner than they, raised her face to the scarce light, they were shocked to see her eyes a shining purple with yellow slits; the eyes worthy of the panther. What was going on?
Once more the shriek rammed them like a blunt blade. The boys knew better than to stick around. Punishment duty did not supply a good thought for them. As the boy pounced toward the victim of their attack, they scampered, running swiftly in the direction of their rooms. The sight of those eyes burned into their memories, as did the sound of the shriek that ached their muscles. They would be warier in future.
Ty could hear the sound of quick footsteps heading her way as the attackers scampered. She looked once more at the victim. She looked like a small servant girl, not a page as she had first thought. Typical of third-year pages to head for servants, she thought. The panther's thoughts busied her mind. Run, run, run! it cried. Ty looked at the girl's face. She might be only eight, but this child didn't look over seven. As the footsteps approached, Ty remembered that nobles were not to fight after-hours. She thought of escape, then grinned at the panther's great idea. No one ever checked the roof.
She leapt up, an arm around the child's waist, and noticed that it was low enough for her. As the steps drew even closer, she landed, braced herself, and leapt up once more, aiming for one of the low wood bars that kept the ceiling above her head instead of around it. Grabbing it, she counted her breathing so as to make the least noise possible.