Page 36 of The Blackened Blade

I begin to stretch out, momentarily forgetting my pain, as a sharp sting moves up my spine and into my shoulders. I wince with the pain just as a familiar voice speaks up from the group.

“Isn’t three laps a bit much?”

All eyes turn toward the voice, my own pair turning toward the familiar brown-eyed boy.

Knox looks at Mr. Valor, as Kane and Xanders stare daggers into the back of him.

Anders looks around the training grounds, a low whistle falling from his lips as he shakes his head. “That isa lotfor someone like her to cover. I mean she doesn't even have any physical strength, let alone magi–ugh–” Knox elbows him in the side, his eyes narrowed at his friend, before Anders' gaze flickers to me. His creased brow eases out as his eyes slightly widen, and quickly mouths a ‘Sorry’.

Knox glances back toward me, his mouth open before he freezes. His brows crease deeper the longer he stares, his gaze quickly moving down toward my clothes. His eyes slightly widen when he reaches my trousers.

I peer down and notice the stains on my knees. There were a few scraps from the fight earlier and it looks like a little bit of blood seeped through.

I glance back up toward Knox as his gaze meets mine, an unreadable look in his eyes as he tries to take a step toward me. But Xander reaches a hand out, pulling him back before cutting me a cold glare.

To them I was some weak and pathetic memory of the past and an annoyance to have to share space with now.

I take off my grey zip hoodie, throwing it to the ground before I take off in a slow sprint, putting distance between me and the voices calling out behind me.

I was no longer the weak girl they knew. I may not be the fastest or strongest, but my mentality was no longer the same. I know my worth now, and that I deserve more from this life than what I’ve always been shown by those around me. This second chance, this new life…I won’t waste anymore of it on them.

The wind whips through my hair and past my face as I build myself up into a run. Something thrums through me as I pick up my pace. Even with my body sore and aching with pain from the attack, I felt a power and strength slowly building in me. This wasFreedom.

Too many days, weeks and years were wasted rotting away in a small prison cell, or a suffocating cage calledWensridge academy. Too many small and mundane moments were taken from me, and too much of my blood and tears shed in these prisons.

The pain and fear I felt in the Facility, and the years of torment in the academy before that, had taken parts of myself that I didn’t even realise were gone. They left me alone and broken, believing I was unworthy of a good life,or a life at all.

I pass by the group, finishing my first lap, feeling their eyes on me, and Mr. Valor’s voice calling for their attention as I continue the pace I’ve set.

None of them could ever understand how this felt; the aches and the pain, I’d embrace them all and let them slowly strengthen me.

This was a small taste of the freedom I now have; of the fresh air surrounding me with no shackles or cage binding me. Nothing was chasing me, there was only an endless path in front of me, with myself making the choice on where to go and how far.

The nightly training had clearly helped in some way, maybe building my stamina up, because even after another lap, I’m still staying strong and moving steadily.

I keep my pace, my breathing slightly heavier on my final lap. A small trickle of sweat drips down my face and chest as I see the group in my sight and push myself harder.

I reach Mr. Valor, placing my hands on my knees as I calm my breathing and racing heart.

Mr. Valor calls for the class to continue, as I lift my head up and into two captivating green eyes. The sun catches his white gold strands as he leans down, handing me a cold bottle of water. There's a slight glint in his eyes, his gaze still a little cold and guarded but less cutting now than before.

I straighten myself and take it from his hand, quickly pulling myself from my daze.

I give him my thanks as I gulp the water down in seconds. The cold liquid quickly cooling and reviving me.

“Join the others, Ms. Bane.” He heads back to the class, and calls for their attention as I make my way over.

I get a few pointed looks, but also some curious stares as I head to the back of the group, where I find an empty space.

“We’ll start the stance again, since the majority of you seem to be having issues.” Mr. Valor’s lips straighten into a grim line as he looks around the group, a frustrated tone in his voice as a few of the students avoid his gaze.

He takes a stance in front of the group, his body slightly bent forward as he holds a wooden-tipped blade in his hand.

His muscles bunch in his arms as he flicks the wooden blade outward, before throwing the blade upwards in a dummy move meant to distract. He twists his body around, catching the blade to the back of his imaginary opponent and slashes outward quickly, aiming for a vital point, essentially incapacitating or killing his invisible target.

I watch his posture, remembering the stance and moves easily as he begins to straighten up. It's a simple technique meant to distract, then incapacitate or maim.

How was anyone struggling with this move? How wasthisso hard for them?

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