Page 29 of The Fifth Soul

I grab the blade, now deserted on the ground, and toss it far enough away before I flipping her over and bending her leg at an angle. Like the man before, she doesn’t expect the move, and once she catches on, it’s too late.

The three taps on the floor come predictably soon after. I let her go and step aside. I don’t help her up or attempt to do fake pleasantries. Losing to me isn’t punishment enough for what she did.

I’m angry and dazed as I walk away. Cuts and bruises cover my face and body. I want to get back to the locker room and clean up. I know I’m walking in the wrong direction when I see Jesse on my path. He was standing on the other side of the circle when it all began.

What gives me pause is his expression. He’s warning me. No, urging me to turn around, but I can sense it’s too late.

I can feel the blade coming toward the back of my head. Call it a sixth sense. I know it to my bones, like I know a crowd is watching, the sun is up in the sky, and my lungs need air to work. It’s a deep, unavoidable knowledge that needs no reassurance.

I stop walking and wait for the unavoidable moment; it will embed its sharp edge into my skull and kill me, but the moment doesn’t come when I know it should.

I slowly turn around. My intuition is right about almost everything. The blade is there, hovering inches from my head. Floating mid-air but not holding itself in the air; instead, it’s being held. Dora’s expression of shock and disbelief tells me she doesn’t know why. I don’t have time to guess when a figure speaks from the crowd.

“Our court of honor should go above all, including petty disputes amongst yourselves.”

The statement comes with movement as the crowd parts, and no other but Brandon Oscuro walks into the circle.

“She, she, she started it.” Dora’s lips are already trembling at the sight of the crown prince.

“Ms. Blanco initiated a challenge that was accepted and returned. Her actions completely align with the rules of the training circles. The rules do not allow the throw of a blade at the back of a retrieving cadet.”

“I’m sorry.” Her words shake with every syllable. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. It will never happen again.”

“There is no room for dishonesty in my ranks.”

The blade drops to the floor. The clanking noise of it hitting the ground is the last thing we all hear before Dora’s eyes turn black. She begins to sob and scream, louder and louder. Harsh jolts shove her body from side to side until she finally drops. I take in every excruciating second. Black smoke begins to slip out of her nose, mouth, and eyes before her body thrashes on the floor one final time, leaving her unmoving and dead. My eyes don’t leave Dora, even after her eyes drain of light.

Brandon turns back to the crowd. “Let this be a lesson, not a warning. Those do not exist on the training grounds.”

The crowd scatters off like they can’t get away fast enough. That’s when I realize it. He was never talking to her. His words were always to those watching. While she pleaded and tried to reason for her life, her fate had already been sealed.

Brandon walks off, just like that, without a single word to me. I remain standing with what remains of Dora staring into space.

Jesse approaches me slowly. His hand tentatively lands on my shoulder. The gesture of comfort snaps me from my frozen state. My lungs don't seem to fill enough for me to catch my breath. My feet urge me to outrun this feeling. Before I know it, I head in the same direction the crown prince departed.

I follow after him deep into the forest. The road is uphill for a few minutes. I lose my anger and energy with every step until I huff and puff just to keep up. Unlike me, he continues to walk peacefully—or at least that’s what it looks like. I don’t say anything when he finally stops and turns to face me. I have nothing in me but questions, yet no words to phrase them.

“I know you wouldn’t have done it.”

Like he somehow knows what I am capable of. The definite rise of his chin tells me he’s ready for me to argue with him. Should I? He’s calling me weak. Is it weak to not desire to be capable of such a heinous act?

“You know nothing about me.” My fists are tightly clenched at my sides.

I let the clouds in my mind take over. The voice that speaks is not mine anymore. I give in to the red steam inside my chest. Brandon might not deserve it, but he’s my current target. A deep subconscious part of me targets him because I know he can take it. I’m tired, in pain, and sick of having to prove myself. Pent up anger inside feels like it is going to consume me if I don’t let it out.

“I know what you are made of, Bianca Blanco, and it’s tougher stuff than this.”

I see understanding in his eyes, and the look doesn’t soothe me. Goosebumps break out over my skin. He sees too much, and he is so sure about what he sees. For a second, my brain pauses, and I wish I could see it too. The steam inside my core cools down to a numb feeling.

His hands cup my cheeks, and I raise my face to meet his eyes.

“You didn’t use your gift once. You could have activated your gift and slit her throat as easily as you could breathe. Yet, you chose instead to beat her on her own turf.”

“They need to know I am not easy prey.”

I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself. Is that what I was really doing?

“You need to understand that there is no beating people at their own games. The rules will change when they realize the odds are no longer in their favor. Stop trying to win over opinions you have no business caring about, anyway. It’s pathetic.”

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