Onya had stopped chewing on her own nails when she was eight, after her mom had cut them so short she couldn't even scratch herself. The habit had disappeared with the other kids teasing and mockery, and despite the reassurances of her little brother who assured her that it was not so bad.
And yet, more than two decades later, Onya was back to chewing on her own nails, standing in the middle of the crowd in front of the tower of Polis. Tris, next to her, was practically bouncing with anxiety, trying to see what was happening in the middle of the large circle. Onya didn't have the heart to tell her there was nothing to see.
A platform was placed on one side of the crowd, overlooking the stage. Titus stood beside Heda's throne, straight as a post. Onya could see the gleams of joy in his eyes at the idea of finally seeing Natshanagada dead. Leksa, on the other hand, had done as usual: put on Heda's mask like an armor, calm and stoic, as if the one who was about to enter the arena had not once braided flowers in her hair while wiping away her tears with her fingertips. Sometimes Onya wondered if Titus hadn't stolen her heart.
The Natblidas, unlike their usual counterparts, weren't standing next to the dais, instead preferring to stand just outside the combat circle, as if to get the best view of the show. Onya wondered if Leksa's plan hadn't failed miserably, if they seemed so eager to see their teacher killed.
A city guard held the disfigured child in his arms, his mother so pale she seemed on the verge of fainting next to him.
Erik was the first to enter the arena. Tall, massive, covered in furs that he had hunted himself, he stirred up the crowd by flailing his arms and giving warlike howls. The spectators shouted back, cheering him on loudly.
Kassi made a much more modest entrance, clad only in her pants and shirt, a skip in her step. She gave a huge smile to the crowd at the booings she received, as if she relished them.
As Erik glared at her snidely and fiercely, Natshana turned away, royally ignoring him to tie a scarf in her hair, to keep it out of her face. Onya had seen women do the same before, when they had to take care of their children, their babies, and realized that Kassi was clearly not as clueless as she looked.
A young boy presented them each with their weapons, and, unlike last time, Kassi chose a dagger and a knife, while Erik took his weapon of choice: his axe.
In doing so, Kassi met Onya's gaze in the crowd, and she smiled. And winked. Onya wanted to kill her herself.
She didn't listen to Titus' little speech about their fight, the rules and the outcomes, too busy watching as Natshanagada took a deep breath, looked up to the sky and seemed to have a quiet conversation with whoever was up there. Onya couldn't help but look up, but there was nothing to see.
When she looked back at Erik, Kassi eyes hardened, her face closed off and dark, and she gripped her dagger in her hand, twirling her knife in the other.
And the fight started, amidst the screams and the cheers of the crowd.
Both ran towards each other, while the Natblidas were pounding the ground with their feet, their lances. Erik took a swing at her, and Natshanagada slid through the mud onto her knees, slashing his leg as she passed.
Erik let out a scream of anger and pain mingled, turning around to all but glare at her. Natshana was cold, calculating, not showing any emotions to the crowd. Onya had to admit that she was quite impressed with her self-control. Erik didn't have that skill. He was all rage and fury, and Onya was starting to think Kassi could use that to her advantage.
Erik got up, while Kassi was nervously twirling her dagger into her hand. To anyone, she just looked like she was getting ready for a second round, but Onya could see, in the way her eyes were going around, studying Erik as fast she could, that she was just improvising.
Erik swung his axe at her, and she leaned back, so low that her hair brushed the muddy ground, twirling to throw her foot onto his bruised leg, right where she had nicked it. And Erik took that opportunity to slash her arm, tearing her shirt off and spilling blood onto the white fabric. Natshana just threw a quick glance into its direction, just to check she wasn't too bruised and she seemed to think she wasn't, as she just went back to the fight.
And Onya realized the scars on her skin weren't from falling down the stairs like she had said they were.
Kassi twirled around Erik, dodging his axe with agility, leaning and jumping, lips pursed with concentration. There was something strange in the way she moved, some sort of synchronization, a rhythm, almost.
And Onya realized why the Natblidas were stomping the ground with their feet.
Kassi had studied the way Erik moved, and detected a beat in his movements.
She wasn't fighting. She was dancing.
If she hadn't been fighting already, Onya would have killed her herself.
Erik tried again to swing his axe at her, so angry he didn't realize he was getting too aggressive. Natshana dodged it easily, and the ax flew across the ground, forcing spectators to duck as it passed above them before lodging itself in a concrete wall.
Gritting his teeth, Erik pulled his dagger out of his coat, and Tris and a few other voices began to scream that it was cheating. Kassi dodged the punches, backing off more and more. Erik sent her dagger flying with his, and boos sounded as she desperately searched for a way out.
Erik all but stabbed her right in the arm, and Kassi scrambled to her feet, running away with the dagger still in her skin.
She didn't take it out. She kept it into her flesh, knowing she couldn't afford to lose any drop of blood. And Erik was too busy stirring up the crowd to realize that she was running back to him.
He threw his fist at her, and she threw herself into the mud, twirling on her knees to slash both of the behind of his knees.
Erik fell to the ground, howling in pain, and Natshanagada was onto him, dagger in hand. She grabbed his hair, throwing his head back, and didn't waist a single second hesitating.
Onya read the word "May we fucking not meet again" onto her lips as she slashed his neck.
Blood spilled out, onto the ground, onto his armor, onto Natshangada's shirt, hair, face. Erik gurgled unnecessarily, blood leaking from his lips. Onya thought she could hear Viktoria crying, and Yelena trying to soothe her.
Erik fell to the ground, face into the mud, and Kassi rolled him onto his back, her dagger still clenched in her fist, checking for his pulse.
When she didn't find one, she slowly and painfully stood up, looking at the silent crowd, Erik's dagger still in her arm.
And she spit up the blood that was in her mouth.
She turned to the man holding the baby.
"I won. Give her her child back."
But he didn't move, mouth agape, as the baby was crying into his arms. Kassi pointed her dagger at him, raising an eyebrow.
"You wanna be next?"
And the mother snatched her child from the guard's arms, crawling him into her chest, crying and sobbing 'Thank you, thank you, thank you' on repeat.
Natshanagada threw her dagger on the ground, turned around, and walked back into the tower, without the little bounce in her step.