Chapter 5: The First Cut
685 Words
The morning sun cast long shadows across the training yard, casting a warm contrast against the steel in Lyr's hand. She stood still, her breath steady, eyes fixed on the wooden dummy before her.
Dante's voice broke the silence. "Focus! Lyra. Your enemy won't wait for you to find your center."
She nodded, adjusting her grip on the training sword, holding it tighter. The weight felt more familiar now, a part of her rather than an command.
"Begin," Dante commanded.
Lyra moved, her steps deliberate. She struck the dummy, each blow more precise and calculated than the last.
"Better," Dante observed. "But you're still holding back, it's not alive you know"
"I'm not," she replied, sweat hanging on her brow.
"You are. Fear is a chain Lyra. Break it."
She paused, lowering her sword and with a calm voice. "Fear keeps me alive."
"Fear makes you hesitate.
In a fight, hesitation is death."
Lyra met his gaze. "And what if I don't care about living? What am I living for?"
Dante's expression softened just for a moment.
"Then fight for something else, something more valuable than life.
She resumed her stance, the sword feeling heavier now.
A cry ripped from her throat as she slammed the blade into the dummy, splinters flying.
"Again," Dante said.
They trained until the sun reached its peak, the heat oppressive.
She cut herself but kept pushing, Lyra's muscles screamed in protest, but she pushed on, driven by a need she couldn't name.
Finally, Dante called an end
"Enough for today."
Lyra fell back to the grass, breathing heavily.
"You look like you slept on nails," he said dryly.
"It would’ve been softer," she muttered
"You did well,"
She looked up at him surprised. "Is that a compliment?"
"NO" he lied.
He offered her a hand, and after a little hesitation , she took it.
Back in her room, Lyra dragged off her sweat-soaked clothes and stepped into the shower. The water was cold, but it soothed her aching body.
As was dressing , she heard a knock.
"Enter," she called.
Lucas walked in, carrying a tray. "I thought you might be hungry."
She smiled faintly. "Thanks, then looked away.
He held out a jar of salve. "For the bruises."
She hesitated, then took it. "Thanks."
He lingered a moment. "How bad is it?"
She considered lying, then shrugged.
"It hurts. But it’s bearable
He set the tray down.
"How's training?"
"Life threatening."
He chuckled. "Dante doesn't go easy on anyone."
"Why are you being nice to me?"
Lucas shrugged. "Not everyone here is your enemy like I said earlier .I'm not.
She looked at him, searching for deceit but finding none,he looked innocent.
"Be careful, Lyra," he said. "This place changes people."
She nodded. "I'm already changing."
After he left, Lyra sat by the window, staring out at the horizon. The sun was setting.
She thought of her parents, of the life she'd lost,of what Maddox used to mean.
Later that night, a soft hum woke her. A noise from outside her window.
She walked gently towards the window,peering through the glass. A figure moved through the shadows in the courtyard.
Viktor.
He stood alone,staring out into the dark. He looked different under the moonlight,he looked haunted.
Not the composed predator she’d seen before.
She watched him for a long moment before stepping away.
They were all broken in some way. Some wore it like armor.
Some buried it deep.
Lyra curled beneath the blanket, sore and exhausted. But sleep didn’t come easy.
Her mind whispered questions she didn’t yet have the courage to ask.
What did they want from her? Why her, out of all the girls they could have taken?
But even as fear gnawed at her, another feeling burned beneath it:
Revenge.
Lyra Maddox might be a prisoner here. She might be bruised and bloodied.
And if she was to survive this world, she would need more than strength.
She would need to become the thing they feared, something they respect.
The first cut had been made.
Tomorrow, she would learn how to make them bleed.
- Writer
