Page 104 of The Heartless Archer

“I do not care which one I have to fight against, in that moment the person who is with me in the ring will become the enemy.”

“Huh, and here I thought that you and Pika were friends.”

Noora shook her head. “Witches and Sosye cannot be friends, no matter how kind Pika is, he is who he is, as much as I am who I am.”

Tyra got up from the settee and strode over to where Noora was resting. She flopped onto the mattress making the bed bounce a few times in the process.

“Is it not sad?”

“What?”

“How our heritage decides who can be our friends or allies? I think it is very curious how we produced all of these categories, human, witch hunter, witch. Oy Frossen, the Southern Kingdom, East and West. As if we do not all bleed the same when pricked. As if we all do not grief the same when we are struck.”

Tyra’s words reverberated in the room and both girls stayed silent. Noora started to pick at a hole in her duvet, it was the same size as Spike’s left canine, the wolf had bounced on the bed a few days ago, trying to drag the duvet off of a sleeping Noora so they could get outside and take a walk. It had left only one hole inside the fabric. Now Noora pushed her small finger inside of it, the fabric tearing more, the hole stretching gently with the pressure she exerted.

Suddenly Tyra slapped the bed and got up, turning her back on Noora, still, she could catch how she quickly wiped beneath her eyes.

“I will leave you alone now so you can rest.”

Before Noora could call after her or offer reluctant comfort, the princess dashed out of the room, the door slamming behind her. The cutlery on her nightstand from lunch clinked softly, producing a sound that reminded her of the bells they would ring in town when it was time for Sunday’s mass.

Today Noora regained her strength and decided to visit the training room in the cellar, to at least prepare her lazy muscles for the torture they would have to go through tomorrow during the trial. She dressed in her usual uniform, which sat snug around her body, wincing slightly when sheneeded to drag the fabric over the stitches in her calf. Before she could think about it too much, she grabbed one bedazzled crutch and left her chamber. On her way through the palace’s halls, she came across a few servants, carrying bed sheets to the washing or firewood stacked high in their arms. Every single one of them halted and spared her a small curtsey, something close to fear shining in their eyes. Respect.

The more servants that crossed her path downwards the more confused she got. She was glad once she stepped into the chamber, smelling like sweat and desperation, though she halted in the doorframe when she realised that the training room had been rearranged.

“Have I slept a few days or a year?”

Pika looked up from beside the pedestal that was placed in the middle of the room, iron bars surrounding it. It looked like what Tyra explained to her last evening. They got rid of the climbing wall, parkour, and the small table that was used for crushing herbs to make as much space for the fighting ring as possible. The space was currently occupied by Kekoa who looked rather annoyed as he tried to explain to Sören how he should hold a longsword.

“It is good to see you standing again.” Pika approached her and before Noora could reply he pulled her into a hug. In her astonishment, she let go of the crutch as her body was pulled into the air. Pika squeezed her tightly and swayed her left and right as if a grizzly bear was playing with its prey before it would devour it whole.

“You can put me down now,” Noora breathed and to her relief, he quickly put her back to her feet, bending down to pick up her fallen crutch and offer it to her.

“I am sorry but you got us worried. You look so much better now, not like you are…”

“On the brink of death?” she offered and watched him flush in embarrassment as he nodded.

“You cannot blame us, the way you looked drenched in all that blood like–”

“A vengeful angel that has been sent up by– what do you call the devil?” Kekoa leaned against the iron bars, inserting himself into the conversation.

“Djevel,” Noora answered.

Kekoa nodded satisfied. “I have to admit it was really impressive how you dropped that beheaded creature into the snow, sounds like something I could come up with.”

“Shut up, that is a lie. You could not even defeat Nidghörr,” Pika threw at him, making them both enter a bickering contest while Noora tried to ask herself if Kekoa just complimented her.

“Anyway,” Kekoa interrupted Pika’s next point to focus back on Noora. “What you did was very brave.”

Noora blinked at him a few times, her gaze wandering over his features. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Kekoa puffed himself up. “Why would I be joking?”

“I don’t know maybe the fact that the last time we two saw each other you tried to kill me.”

He rolled his eyes. “Did they not tell you that I was poisoned?”

“Of course they did. Does that mean I should ignore every other insult that you threw at me all this time and promised to make me suffer? Multiple. Times. Or, sorry, were you poisoned at that time as well? Because if yes, no one told me about that.”

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