3 - THE RENEGADE

Meridian Water

 

Darkness enveloped the training room, where I was being trained to serve my king, Fondark Sweeney.

My determined look showed my commitment to the rigorous training that lay ahead. All around me, the shadows seemed to come to life, dancing and undulating like strange beings. My instructor Tom watched me minutely, every step I took, every blow I threw, he seemed to always be focused on me and that left me intrigued.

"You must learn to hunt with precision and efficiency," he said in a deep, enigmatic voice. "Your mission is to protect the kingdom from the threats that lurk in the shadows. This is your purpose as a Huntress."

I just nodded, absorbing his words. I was determined to prove myself worthy of this role and use my skills to protect the kingdom, that was my duty.

After all, I was a renegade. I didn't know where it came from, it wasn't a demon, and I didn't remember anything from my past. All I knew was that the king had picked me up from the gutter and raised me. He gave me a home when no one wanted me because they didn't know my lineage, I would give him my loyalty.

Today would be the last day of training in which I would prove myself capable of being part of the cavalry in the king's service. It was when he entered that I felt something shake inside me.

Everyone stared at him, and an eerie silence fell in the training room. The son of the leader of the wizards was there. His skin was pale, and his eyes were black, completely black, without pupils. He was tall and his body was imposing, covered in frightening authority.

I wanted to run out of that room when I realized he came towards me, since I started training two years ago, my fame spread throughout the kingdom of Umbra, there wasn't even a soldier who had fought with me and won. I had even beaten the instructor, and my rebellious instinct was sometimes frowned upon. They thought I had to bow down to them because I was a renegade, and I didn't accept it. I was raised by them, one of them I was. So I wouldn't bow down to anyone.

His gaze penetrated me, his hard expression watching me as his footsteps broke the distance between us. I raised my head. He didn't scare me, although his presence was authoritative over me, I didn't back down.

“I want to fight you.” He said with his hands behind his body and his gaze directed at mine.

“Your request is an order.” I put myself in a defensive position.

If it was what he wanted, he would have it.

The training began with calculated steps, a dangerous circle where our abilities were measured with each movement. He advanced with feline speed, his feet touching the ground with a lightness that seemed impossible for someone of his stature. I dodged the first blow, leaning my body back, feeling the movement of air near my face, but I didn't give myself the luxury of hesitating. Counterattack. A quick kick to destabilize him, which he easily defended, turning his body as if it were part of a rehearsed choreography.

His movements were silent and deadly, revealing his dexterity and natural talent.

But they didn't put me in a position of inferiority, because we seemed to be in a synchronized dance where there were no losers.

His intensely shining eyes were fixed on mine, burning with a concentration that made my every small movement seem exposed. He was studying me. No, dissecting. My next strike, a quick punch with my right hand, was blocked, but instead of retreating, I used the momentum to twist my body, trying to land an elbow. He narrowly avoided it, his gaze still fixed on me. My heart was beating at a frantic pace, but not from fear—it was something more. Something I didn't have time to decipher.

Then we move on to fighting with weapons. I wielded a black sword with a moon decorating its handle, it was the symbol of the necklace that I had never removed from my neck, the only thing that had come with me and that even though I didn't know its history it remained. I swung the blade with sagacity, cutting the air with speed and ferocity, my blows were accurate, demonstrating my skill and capacity as a hunter. He seemed to be paying attention to my every move, and although he didn't seem to be taking it easy, I felt his gaze on me. Studying me.

Our blades met with a sharp sound, sparks jumping on impact. The prince's lips curved into something that could have been a smile – or a taunt.

His eyes wouldn't leave me. Even as I dodged my attacks or counterattacked with quick, precise blows, they remained fixed on mine, intense and penetrating. It was almost suffocating, but I couldn't look away. Not while he was facing me with this intensity.

My training was more intense than any other. Because I was considered inferior, I trained day and night to prove otherwise, I learned all possible training with the body and with weapons, I also learned to track and pursue my prey with cunning.

I camouflaged myself in the shadows as if they were actually my home, making me silent and invisible. I proved to be more than capable of serving the royal cavalry by hunting various creatures, from rebellious demons to various beings that threatened our existence.

I knew I could win. The training room was filled with tension and focused energy. The blows exchanged between the two of us were powerful and merciless, each fighting with all our abilities.

The fight was considered over when we both used a blow that put us on the ground, the tip of my blade at his neck while the tip of his in a mortal point on my belly. We didn't pant or show any feelings other than defiance, but I could feel my body tingle from the closeness.

I got up, moving away so he could get up too. So I just nodded, as it was the right thing to do. He was royalty. The prince of the Umbra kingdom had fought with me. I could hear the buzz with my keen hearing, I could hear the mockery and a smirk played on my lips. It could have been anyone, but it was me. It was me there, because I was the only one most qualified for such a fight, and yet they reduced me to a mere renegade. I would prove otherwise.