Page 126 of The Ballad of a Bard

An excited murmur ran through the men as they began to understand who was up next. And just like before, her false name was on every single tongue like a musical chant.

Red Lyric.

Ruby fell and the boys cleared out of the pit.

Red Lyric.

Zion appeared and made his way to the middle of the arena, raising his hands for all to see, for all to quiet as he waited.

Red Lyric.

A harmonious phrase that should have turned her gut to iron, hardened her like it used to and lifted her confidence into the heavens. But now it turned her insides to steam, hissing water that lapped at her and froze her solid.

Before, she’d fought because she wanted to.

Because she’d needed the money for her brother and knew that she could survive each round. But now, when there was a different meaning behind each of her victories- herkills,it chilled her to the bone to even look at the arena.

She’d hated taking a life before, but it was nothing compared to the feeling that ripped through her now at the thought of it all.

When the crowd finally settled enough for Zion to speak, he clapped his hands twice. “My friends! We are honoured to have a legend here tonight with us, one who is willing to prove himself after being gone for so long!”

A roar of exhibition rose through them.

“Please allow him your generous attention as he fights for six nights in a row! Not only will he take on two competitors a night, but at the end of his week, Red Lyric will take on Grimm!”

Gasps of delight, of horror took over and they settled in her gut like a stone in her pocket as she sank to the bottom of the ocean. Zion turned to the side, arm gesturing to her as the gate rumbled, groaning in protests before it slowly began to lift.

“Make me proud, Heartrage. Make yourbrotherproud.” Altivar murmured in the gentle voice of a lover before he left her there, making for the very top mezzanine where he would remain and watch for the entire evening.

Crimson allowed herself one momentary lapse of fear, of terror as she stared up to meet the eyes of hundreds that watched her from above.

“Red Lyric!” Zion announced and she entered the arena.

The noise was deafening and she took it all in stride, grasping onto her hatred for this all and shoving it into her core, using it to fuel everything.

As Crimson became Red Lyric and grinned.

Sixty One

As soon as the bell rang, signalling the start of the match, she began. It wasn’t hard to immediately locate the man’s weak points, especially as the new intensity of her powers sang them out to her. It pointed to them with a cerise highlight that she couldn’t ignore. There was no time limit here, not this time. Crimson jerked her right blade up to meet his sword, swivelling her wrist around his until he grunted and fell back to recenter himself.

The gate behind that shuddered closed with a force that vibrated the earth, separating them from any of the other fighters that waited for their turn underneath the stage.

She prowled around the circular arena as her boots sank in the sand. He charged like an angry bull, provoked to do their absolute worst. Her knife spun around in her palm, hilt towards the ceiling of the domed chamber as she sprang forward, meeting his attack.

The onlookers drank cheap mead, snacked on salted nuts as the serving girls went around each balcony and offered everythingup, aprons flashing in her peripherals as she tried to concentrate on the fight. Her opponent barreled for her, as if he planned to knock her into the wall and break her back with a single move.

Her foot found the border and pushed up, allowing a small boost of air to get under her as she jumped, managing to grab ahold of his shoulders with a sheer stroke of luck. He swung in confusion as she dodged the fluid attempts of his sword to knock her off, to win. Crimson grabbed a fistful of dirty blond hair and yanked it upward, a yell gargling out of his meaty throat. Her gloves were thick but not enough so that she couldn’t make out his racing pulse.

He bucked and she yelped as she tumbled off, hitting the sand hard. The impact sent shocks flying through her, her arm screaming in pain. She grimaced, grabbed her shoulder and massaged it quickly before hopping back to her feet and spinning around in search of her competitor. He’d gotten behind her, raised sword above his head as she ducked in time.

The tip nearly punctured her spine as she darted left.

Cheers in the form of her name rose up and she spared a quick glance in desperate hopes to see a pair of starry eyes somewhere amongst them all. She knew she wouldn’t find him, and yet she still looked.

Instead, she found Altivar in the top row, lifting a chalice of what she assumed to be wine at her. She could just make out his grin as he brought the rim to his mouth and drank deeply before setting it aside. He rested in a massive chair that could only have meant to resemble a throne, far richer and more lavish than his mother’s simple one. A girl sat on the right side, a male perched in his lap haphazardly as his other hand gripped the lean waist.

Crimson returned her focus before it got her killed, stepping aside as the man attacked. His arm slammed into her face andthe taste of blood filled her mouth. She stumbled back, trying to find his wrist in the blurring haze of her dizzy spell. Then she almost cursed herself because she didn’t require the pressure points anymore to access another’s emotions. She didn’t even need to find their eyes and lock their sight with hers in order to find them.

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