Orange rays broke over the horizon, the mountain's snow-capped peak glistening in the morning sun. As the dawn crept down the mountain towards the valley below, it revealed a platform that protruded from the mountain side; cleared from snow and stained with blood. That circular clearing, revealing the cold stone beneath, would be where Elizabeth proved to the world she was worthy. The eyes around the arena watched and waited. The final spectators trickled in, climbing the narrow staircase that had been chiseled into the mountain side, connecting the stone platform to the village below; white-powdered roofs peeked out between the equally caked pines. This final duel would be the real excitement.

  At dusk, the first fight had begun. Now, a dozen duels later, the snow was defrosting under the rising sun and trickles of water mixed with the blood that had spilled. The piles of snow around the arena were mashed and distorted from the bodies that had been flung into their depths. The exact outlines of the circle wouldn’t be so clear if it weren’t for the half-hundred torch-bearing warriors that stood firm on the perimeter. The figures remained silent, the flaming torches some held burnt down to a smoldering husk. None of them wore the same armor and few wore much at all, most preferring to be lightweight. However, all wore the same bronze bracelets, the remnants of broken shackles. A symbol of their binding service to the realm, the symbol of an honor-knight.

  Elizabeth stepped forwards into the arena, on the opposite side a young blonde squire mirrored her. Gabriel wore steel armor from the neck down, polished to the point that it appeared silver instead. One hand rested on the hilt of his sheathed great sword, the other held his helmet. He gave a wink to one of the girls in the crowd from the Honor Village that peeked out from behind the knights. Her cheeks flushed, turning the same color as her auburn hair. Gabriel placed on his silver half-helm, hiding his lazy blonde curls and his gaze shifted to Elizabeth.

  In contrast, Elizabeth’s black hair hung uncombed down her back, two red scars stretched across her cheek and her once rich dark skin had faded in the mountains. Dirt clung to her body, glued by her sweat. Compared to the shining knight she felt a disheveled beggar. Elizabeth wore little armor, only a chainmail shirt underneath her boiled leather. Although, this did not concern her against the likes of Gabriel who worried more for looks than strength. If she had to use steel, she preferred to wield it.

  Elizabeth unsheathed her great sword, angling the blade upwards into the morning sky. Her numb fingers flexed beneath leather gloves, curling around the worn hilt. It was heavier than her regular sword, its weight satisfying in her hands. Down the blade were several scratches, a reminder of the battles it had witnessed. She wondered if the previous squires that used this blade had suffered more defeats than victories. Great swords were rarely used by the order of the honor-knights anymore, but tradition held firm for the ascension ceremony.

  Gabriel drew his own blade and as if in response the wind howled across the mountain slope. Elizabeth controlled her breathing, slow and rhythmic. Warm plumes of steam seeped from her mouth, swirling into the mountain’s cry.

  Between them stood Marshal, the Red Bear; a mountain of red hair that walked. His hair wasn’t orange, but a true deep crimson. In thick tangles it fell over his shoulders and his rusty beard was woven with black rings to compliment his black chestplate. His wrists, as thick as cannons, wore the same shackles of the honor-knights, yet cast of pure gold. For his were holy. He towered in the center of the ring, and upon seeing both combatants were ready, he raised the hilt of his longsword high above his head. The steel caught the light, highlighting the runes down the blade’s center.

  ‘Elizabeth and Gabriel are both excellent honor-squires,’ Marshal said with a voice like thunder, ‘They have trained with diligence and determination. Let the more honorable prove victorious.’

  Elizabeth's heart beat faster; she could feel the muscles in her legs coil with energy. Marshal drove his sword down into the stone with a crack. Elizabeth exploded forward. Gabriel remained as still as the mountain they stood on. It was pathetic. An honor-knight should always be offensive; defense was for the weak. Elizabeth let her greatsword trail behind her as she dashed. Just before she reached Gabriel she swung her blade, combining its weight with the momentum of her charge. Her sword lit aflame with a sheen of pure light.

  Gabriel barely shifted to intercept, but his sword blocked Elizabeth’s with a mighty clang. His stance held, but the force pushed him backwards, his feet sliding on the ice-licked stone.

  Elizabeth pulled back to strike again, but Gabriel was quicker, sweeping his sword at her left side. Her greatsword was too unwieldy, too slow to intercept. She leaped backwards to escape the deadly blow.

  Elizabeth looked at her feet. Did I just retreat? Upon reaching the answer to that question her face made a nasty snarl. He made her retreat, without so much as taking a step. It was ridiculous. It would never happen again.

  She charged in, giving a might yell and swinging her greatsword overhead. Gabriel sidestepped and went to counterattack, but this time Elizabeth was ready. When Gabriel swung his sword he likely expected Elizabeth to dart backwards again, but instead she stepped into the attack. Forgetting her blade, she ducked under his swing and shoulder charged the tin-can knight. Gabriel’s stance broke and he fell onto his back. The sunglow around his body shimmered as his back slammed onto the hard rock.

  A murmur spread across the crowd. Some may chastise Elizabeth for such a dishonorable attack, but she couldn’t think of anything more honorable than using everything at her disposal. To not use it would be to hold back. What could be more honorable than victory?

  Elizabeth wasted no time in attacking again. She struck three times downwards at Gabriel. The first two he blocked, the third he rolled out of the way, leaving Elizabeth's sword to split the rock where he had been laying. How he managed to roll in full armor Elizabeth would never know. By the time she had freed her sword from the stone Gabriel was on his feet again, his sword extended towards her.

  Gabriel knew how to swing a sword and he was adept in most noctra techniques, but in spirit he fell short. There was honor in strength and aggression, not in running. He would have been better suited as an Ash-Knight.

  Elizabeth circled Gabriel, growing closer on each lap. He swiveled around, eyes searching for an opening. He was prey and she was the beast on the prowl. When Elizabeth reached her desired range, she lunged. Gabriel blocked the forward thrust, but she wasn't done. Elizabeth attacked again and again. Each swing was faster than the last until they were separated by a flurry of steel and sparks.

  Elizabeth’s brown eyes locked onto Gabriel’s icy blue. They darted rapidly as if looking for an opening, an escape. A drop of sweat dripped from his brow down his fair skin, as he clenched his teeth; even they shimmered. How does he keep them so white? It wasn’t fair. Elizabeth worked harder than Gabriel. She was stronger, faster and her spirit burned brighter. Gabriel simply showed up looking pretty and everything worked out for him. Ever since they were paired for the final duel together, talk around the Honor Village had Gabriel as the favorite. It didn’t matter. Elizabeth would win this duel, proving everyone wrong and becoming one step closer to reaching her brother Luis again.

  Hit after hit Elizabeth could sense the coating on Gabriel’s sword began to fade, marking real progress in the duel. Not only were her attacks more powerful, her sword's coating was stronger, sharper. It wore on his own, chipping away at it. His noctra - his lifespan - was compensating for his strength and it couldn't hold.

  Then, she felt it, Gabriel’s coat disappeared entirely. Elizabeth didn't miss her chance. She struck with her most powerful thrust yet, aiming for the center of Gabriel’s greatsword.

  The blade shattered.

  Gabriel jumped backwards, his eyes wide with shock. He held less than half of his greatsword’s blade still attached to the hilt. The other half lay in two shards of steel on the ground.

  The duel was all but won, all she had to do now was finish it.

  Gabriel retook his earlier stance, brandishing the broken weapon in front of him. His knees bent, chest leaning forwards, both hands on the grip. Eyes locked on Elizabeth. He could never beat her with a full sword, there was zero chance now. Elizabeth stalked towards Gabriel. She could feel her blood pumping through her veins, it thrummed with ferocity and hunger. Victory.

  As she approached Gabriel tensed further, but then he let his stance break. Gabriel stood up straight letting his arms drop to his side, the shattered greatsword barely dangling from one hand. Elizabeth paused and wondered what game he was playing, what trick or trap awaited her. She prayed Gabriel hadn’t given up. She would believe it if he had, his position was hopeless. However, if he had given up it was an insult to their duel and to her honor. Then he closed his eyes.

  In the middle of a battle he dropped all defense and closed his eyes, waiting to be struck down. How could he? Does he have so little respect for me? For all my hard work? He dishonored their duel.

  Elizabeth sent a surge of lifespan into her muscles, enhancing them far past the point that she could control. She did the same for her sword’s coating, sharpening it to the point of slicing through steel like snow. Wisps of lifespan drifted from her body, time she would never get back. Gabriel wanted the easy way out, but she would make this hurt for him. If this attack sent him to Hell early, she no longer cared.

  Releasing the surge, she leapt forwards. The wind rushed past as she let her hair and sword trail behind her in the same attack she used to start the duel.

  Gabriel’s eyes snapped open. He swung his stunted blade. It was far too soon and too short to reach Elizabeth, even if it hadn’t been shattered. It sailed through the air, connecting with nothing. If this was his idea of a final attack he should have waited-

  An invisible force unlike any other slammed into Elizabeth. It twisted and cut into her stomach. Before she knew what hit her she was flying backwards, then rolling and bouncing on the hard stone. Finally, she landed with a thud in the snow piled outside of the arena, sending white powder exploding into the air.

  Elizabeth groaned, head spinning and ears throbbing. Her fingers found blood. The attack had sliced straight through her noctra coating, boiled leather and chain mail. What remained of the blow only drew a shallow cut on her skin, yet being forced from the arena meant she had lost the duel.

  Not only had Gabriel defeated her - stealing her moment, her victory - he had just performed tempest, the mark of an honor knight. A technique she was yet to perform.

  An animalistic guttural sound escaped Elizabeth’s lips. She couldn't accept it. She looked for her sword and couldn’t find it. It didn’t matter, she would go back and defeat him bare handed. She jumped to her feet, unsteady and swaying, yet she marched forward. Before she could step back into the ring a firm hand was placed on her shoulder. Looking up, the hand belonged to a female knight who shook her head.

  Defeat was weakness, but failing to accept defeat was dishonorable and that was unacceptable.

  The Red Bear lifted his sword from the stone.

  ‘The victory goes to Gabriel!’ he roared.

  The crowd roared back. They banged their swords and slammed the butts of their axes into the mountain. They rushed past the ring of torch bearing knights and into the arena to congratulate Gabriel. In the crowd his half-helm was knocked off, letting his blonde curls shine in the sunlight. Their cheers were the sound of a new member rising into the ranks, the trumpet of Elizabeth’s defeat.

  Gabriel only stared at his shattered sword, as if unable to believe his own victory.

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  All energy left Elizabeth and she collapsed into the snow letting it envelope her. She just couldn’t accept it. This needed to win, she had to. Luis was waiting for her, but she couldn’t even beat a teenage pretty-boy. Waiting another year for the next ascension ceremony felt like abandoning Luis entirely. How old would he be when she finally saved him? How tall would he have grown?

  She didn't know how long she lay there, but when a shadow finally loomed over her Elizabeth-shaped hole in the snow, her skin was red and numb.

  ‘What do you want?’ Elizabeth asked with a husky voice.

  ‘You.’

  A hand reached into the snow and grabbed her wrist, it was large and calloused. When it wrenched her free from the ice she found it was the judge. The Red Bear dangled her in the air by the wrist and studied her from head to toe.

  ‘You fought well today,’ Marshal said.

  ‘But-’

  ‘But you lost,’ he finished, nodding.

  Elizabeth pinched her lips. Did he come here just to rub salt in the wound?

  ‘How bad is it?’ he asked, staring at her cut stomach.

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘That’s good,’ he said, ‘I wouldn’t want my squire to die on me after I just got her.’

  ‘Squire?’ Elizabeth said, her husky voice turning to a squeak, ‘I’m not your squire, I belong to Ser Walter. Besides you’re a holy-knight, you can't take on an honor-squire.’

  ‘That’s true, but I could take on a holy-squire.’

  Elizabeth looked to see if he was playing a cruel jape, if the entire Honor Village below was onlooking, waiting to laugh at her, but he was serious. Is he a fool after all? Holy-knights sat above the three other schools, to squire for a holy-knight required knighthood in itself first.

  ‘I am not even an honor-knight yet. I will need to ascend before I can become your squire.’

  ‘Bah,’ Marshal said, ‘That's no rule, just an outdated tradition. You will find Purgatory is full of those. Worst case I can bring you back to the village next year to ascend. You won’t grow any stronger trapped on this mountain.’

  Elizabeth tried to respond, but when she opened her mouth no sound came out.

  ‘So what do you say Beth? You don't mind if I call you Beth do you? Elizabeth is just so long.’

  If I hesitate now, I will never get another chance.

  ‘I’ll do it,’ she said.

  ‘Before you agree, know it will be dangerous,’ the Red Bear said. ‘You will attend me on my business where it is a vastly different world than this sheltered mountain range. There will be knights from all three schools, wizards with more spells than sense, and monsters stronger than any knight in this village.’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ Elizabeth said with all the resolve she could muster.

  ‘Good, I knew you would,’ Marshal said, as he released his grip and let her slump back down into the snow. ‘Pack your stuff. We leave half an hour.’

  Marshal turned around, stomping away.

  ‘Wait, um Sir. Why did you choose me?’ She asked. ‘I lost.’

  Marshal never halted his step or looked back. ‘Your spirit.’

  * * * *

  Elizabeth walked into the women’s barracks. She was alone packing whilst everyone was celebrating the ascension ceremony in the mess. A draft whistled through the building, sending the eight hammocks swaying softly. She had shared the room with seven others, or more recently six after Agness passed away in her duel last night. Both Dakara and Makenia had ascended in their respective duels so their bunks would be emptied. Now Elizabeth was heading off with Marshal, leaving behind only Claire, Asha, Jeleni and one stoic woman who either hadn't given her name or Elizabeth couldn’t remember it.

  It was a miracle that the room housed eight when it was no larger than a shed. Hammocks were strung vertically on each wall, one above another. The top bunks were always a nightmare to climb into and as Elizabeth rolled in her sleep, she had fallen out more than once. She had been sleeping on the top bunk when she first joined, but after a year she challenged Asha to a duel wagering her bottom hammock. Elizabeth offered to complete Dakara’s duties for an entire month if she had lost, but Elizabeth never intended to lose.

  Another breeze passed through the room and Elizabeth shivered. It came from a crack between the wood that no matter how much the girls tried they couldn’t plug. During winter the room would become so unbearably cold that they would risk lighting a small fire indoors. However, after one incident they never tried again.

  Elizabeth walked past the patch-job flooring in the center of the room that was surrounded by scorch marks. She unfurled her hammock and brushed her hand over the fabric, feeling its sandpaper texture and smelling its moth-like aroma one last time. Inside was a burlap sack no larger than a pumpkin with every possession Elizabeth owned.

  Elizabeth’s mouth watered at the thought of a plump pumpkin. She had heard earlier that it was being served at the mess in celebration. Perhaps she would have time for a quick meal before she left. No I can’t be late. Elizabeth grabbed her regular sword that was propped up against the wall. It was a short sword; unlike the unyielding greatsword she was forced to use for the duel. This thing was dinged and scratched and ready to fall apart, but it had served her since she snapped the last, and more importantly, it was all she had. She buckled it to her belt.

  Elizabeth felt around her neck and retrieved her necklace from under her chainmail. The wooden cross dangled from a chain of small beads. It was poorly made, the wood hadn’t been carved straight, neither had it been sanded properly. It always scratched at Elizabeth's skin as she moved and it had deposited more than one splinter in her skin. She hugged it tight, it was her most precious possession.

  Luis, I am finally on my way. Wait for me.

  Elizabeth stepped out of the barracks, leaving it behind forever. She wondered what kind of woman would fill her hammock and if she would survive this mountain.

  The village felt empty. No one could be seen, but a raucous could be heard coming from the mess hall in the distance. The drinking would have already begun and the roast pumpkin would be being devoured before the chefs returned to serving their tasteless slop. Gabriel would be there amongst the knights celebrating his victory. “A true genius” they would be calling him with cheers and slaps on the back whilst Elizabeth would be forgotten. Elizabeth was just glad she would never have to see his face again.

  Her stomach growled so she pulled a strip of cured beef from her pants and began to chew on it. The salt played on her tongue and her stomach begged to swallow it whole despite the fact it would get caught in her throat.

  ‘Oi!,’ A voice called out as Elizabeth walked past. The sudden shout shocked Elizabeth into swallowing the strip whole. She coughed twice, but it was gone, ‘Where do ya think you’re headed with my blade on belt walking all proud like? I heard you were running outta the village with that holy-knight, but that don’t give you an excuse to rob a hard working smith.’

  Elizabeth turned to find a man who’s belly spilled over his pants wearing a yellow-stained tank top. It was the chief blacksmith of the village, Elizabeth never caught his name, but he was always berating her for using his blades too roughly. She always told him to make them stronger.

  He marched over, the bald spot on his head reflecting the sun into Elizabeth's eyes, ‘This sword here was loaned out to squires of the village,’ the smith said. ‘If you're leaving, then I'll take her back.’ He held out his hand, it was covered in calluses, scars and burns.

  She stepped back, ‘This is all I have.’

  ‘And now you don’t,’ The man said, wiggling his fingers, ‘Come on, chop chop.’

  ‘I don’t have any money to buy another.’

  ‘That aint my problem. Don't make me go get a knight to force you.’

  Elizabeth’s heart sank. She could ask the Red Bear to buy her a new blade, but there was no honor in asking favors when he was already taking her under his wing. She unbuckled the sword and scabbard, placing it in the man's hand.

  ‘Can I buy a new blade in exchange for some… some of my lifespan?’ Elizabeth asked, her desperation peaking.

  The smith widened his eyes, but he shook his head, ‘Normally I would, but I don’t like doing business with thieves. Now, the belt too.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The belt too. Hand it over.’

  Elizabeth slowly slipped the belt from her belt rings and handed it to the smith, ‘Is there nothing I can give you for a new blade?’

  ‘There isn’t, now scram.’

  Elizabeth couldn’t believe it and she went to argue, but remembered the earlier threat of a knight. She turned and walked away, her head low. She was shocked that even the offer of lifespan was refused. Would anyone in their right mind ever refuse lifespan? I mean his bald spot was crying for him to de-age.

  What the hell and I going to do now without a sword?

  ‘Hey now,’ the smith called from his workshop, ‘I was just playing a joke, little miss. Y’know, for all the trouble you gave me,’ He gave a toothy grin and wiped some grease from his nose. He held up a belt with a sword attached, except they weren’t hers, but a fresh leather belt and a newly forged blade. Walking over, the man dropped it into her hands, ‘Good luck, Elizabeth. Try not to go smashing this one, I forged it twice as strong, took me months, cause I was planning to give it as an ascension gift. Well that Gabriel foiled my plans, but I think you got something better than knighthood today.’

  Elizabeth inspected the blade and it shone with a ripple pattern forged down its length, ‘Why are you giving this to me?’

  The man smiled, ‘Y’know for all my complaining about how you treat my babies, at the end of the day a blade was made for cutting and nothing gives a smith more pride than seeing someone appreciate his work so thoroughly.’

  ‘I don't know what to say. Thank you… mister.’

  That's okay- Wait, Elizabeth, do you not know my name?’

  ‘I have to run, the Red Bear is waiting for me.’

  ‘No, hang on. Do you not know my name? I am certain I have told you, more than once.’

  Elizabeth backed up, smiling and clutching her prize. ‘Thank you again mister.’

  ‘Come back here! I want that back!’

  Unfortunately for him he was fat and slow. And bald, Elizabeth remembered. She ran through the village until her lungs hurt from the mountain’s icy air. She always forgot how much harder it was to do anything without enhancing herself with noctra, but running from an overweight blacksmith wasn’t worth spending lifespan on. Coming around a corner, Elizabeth saw the entrance to the village.

  A standalone wooden arch loomed over the staircase that would descend forever off the mountain. Snow dripped lazily off the Nordic style carvings down its side. At the top of the arch letters were engraved in a language Elizabeth didn’t speak, but she understood their meaning. “Provide peace through protection.”

  Under its arch stood a burly man covered in crimson bear fur. He was attaching several bags to an animal that looked like a mountain goat mixed with a donkey and to its side stood a boy clad in shining armor.

  Gabriel spun around, his blond curls waving like a halo. ‘Elizabeth! How are you, is your stomach okay?’

  Elizabeth let the repulsion she felt show on her face. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘That’s good,’ He smiled, ‘Sorry I didn’t get a chance to check on you earlier. It sure was an intense duel!’

  ‘What is he doing here?’ Elizabeth asked Marshall.

  Marshall didn’t even turn from the goat, ‘He has received a posting as an honor-knight in Capernaum. Coincidentally, we need to use the apostle plate of Matthew so we will be travelling together for a while.’

  ‘It sure is relieving to have someone as strong as you by our side,’ Gabriel said, his sapphire eyes shining.

  Elizabeth groaned.