Twinned Flame

The Show Begins

Training had concluded by the time the arena was filling with eager onlookers. Sylvie had stepped away from the arena into the hallway by the supply shed to cool off a little in the shade. Hugo was at the gate looking up into the stands,

"There's a lot more people than I anticipated for the assessment," Hugo said. Sylvie was wiping sweat from her neck when she glanced up at him.

"I see some Alphas from the neighboring packs in the stands, some heirs as well," she walks over to see what he is looking at. The arena was like a large football field with a spectator box in the center row. Braxton had moved there when pack members started arriving. The box was now filled with people Sylvie had never seen before, Alphas and Betas, maybe family members piled into the box dressed to impress.

"What packs do you see?" She asked, leaning on the half wall and still looking up at them. Hugo pointed to Braxton, then moved to his right side. A large man sat beside him, dark skin, tight coiled hair in a small afro that connected to a full beard. He was in a tan suit with a white shirt, boasting a smile as he chatted to the man next to him. He looked like he just told a joke and was waiting for his counterpart to laugh.

"That's Justin Justice, of the Smokehill clan. The man next to him, his beta, is Miles Hind." The man beside him, who was nodding enthusiastically at what he was saying, was older than the Alpha. He was dark-skinned as well, his grey hair was braided back in rows, and was clean-shaven. He wore a matching suit, but opted for a black shirt.

"They prioritize mining and steelwork. A lot of our infrastructure comes from them." Hugo moved his hand to the row behind them. A young looking woman, pale, with thick red hair pulled into a loose pinup, was wearing a tight emerald dress. She was staring at her phone while the older gentleman beside her was pointing at things in the field. He had a clean-shaven head and face, and wore a dark blue suit. He was holding a cane in his other hand and was constantly tapping the woman as he pointed to get her attention.

"That's Gene Windsor, Alpha of Windswept pack. His daughter, Jessica, is his current Beta. She's his only heir, but he believes only sons should inherit the title. Their pack is known for medical supplies."

Hugo moved and pointed to two identical people, and two teens. They both had dark hair that looked almost blue in the sun, one had longer hair pulled into a tight bun. He was dressed in a black dress shirt and pants. The other one had shorter hair, in a crew-cut style. He was dressed in the same, a black dress shirt and pants. There was a girl sitting next to them considerably younger, she had the same color hair braided to the side. She was dressed in a blue dress, matching the suit color of the young boy next to her. His hair was cut like the short-haired twin.

"That's future Alpha twins, Damien and Vincent, and their two younger siblings, Jenny and Raphiel. Their pack is known for being the Kings trust. They are versed in everything the country has to offer, from politics to trade. We can make a warrior, but it's them that can control the warrior," Hugo said. She nodded, enchanted by the twins,

"Wow, are they like a type of royalty?" She asked, turning back to Hugo.

"If the king is unwilling to remarry and produce an heir, it's speculated that someone from the Stone family would be next in line," Hugo said, stretching his back before opening the gate for her.

"Come on, it's about time to start," Hugo said just as Braxton called attention to himself.

"Welcome to the Bloody Dagger pack, and welcome Alpha's, Beta's and family of Smokehill, Windswept, and Crestfallen to our Annual Assessment of warriors!" Braxton shouted, raising his hands to the cheer of pack goers. Despite the unsettling feeling she got when near him, Sylvie admitted he does have a way with the pack. She speculated they either didn't see what she saw, or chose to ignore it for the sake of pack peace.

"I welcome former Beta and warrior recruit trainer Hugo Montizor," Braxton called, gesturing to the center field Hugo was walking towards. Sylvie walked over toward the other recruits, who shot her dirty looks. She stood a little off from the group as usual, shaking off their attitude to focus on the assessment. Hugo waved to the crowd, stepping up onto a little podium, adjusting the microphone.

"Welcome all to the annual assessment here at Blood Dagger. Every year, a quarter before the multipack Warrior Trial, we like to show off our recruits," Hugo explained.

"As our guest, Alphas know. We don't fear conflict, we do not flee from it; where there is no struggle, there is no virtue," Hugo said, reciting the pack's pledge with gusto and slamming his fist into his chest. The recruits followed suit who a 'Hoorah' shouted back.

"We are always on the verge of being overrun with rogues. It is our diligence, our pride, to offer this country some of its strongest fighters," Hugo continued.

"This assessment isn't just a show of skill, it's to show that we will always adapt and rise to any challenge." Sylvie couldn't help but smile at his display of pride. It was one of the only few times that generally got him riled up.

"We will start with the first assessment, archers at the ready!" he called. The group all disbanded, running to grab quivers and bows from the offered equipment rack. Sylvie ran over to her own bow. A horsebow she crafted from ash wood, the alpha didn't offer her equipment to keep outside the training arena. Hugo helped her craft the bow, telling her it was better to ask for an apology then ask permission. She restrung the bow, making sure it was tight before grabbing the linen arrow bag she also made. She strapped the bag to her belt, letting it rest on her lower back. For training, she preferred smoother access to the arrows. Putting it on her back tired her arm out more quickly. She counted the breadhead arrows she'd made the night before, and when she counted 24, she ran over to the range and got into position in front of the last open target.

Other recruits had compound bows with levering systems and special attachments. Sylvie was a little envious at the favoritism in the ranks.

"It's not about the bow, it's about the archer," she mumbled to herself, nocking her arrow, waiting for the call to start.

"Archers, you have 10 minutes to loose 15 arrows. You will be judged on target points and arrow count," Hugo explained.

"At the ready!"

"Begin!"

Sylvie pulled the arrow back, breathed deep and let loose the arrow. It flew towards the target 'thawking' into the dense hay 20 yards away. She didn't stop, quickly nocking another arrow and repeating until Hugo's voice snapped her from her focus.

"TIME," she relaxed, staring at the target filled with her arrows and attempting to count how many she accomplished. A couple of field hands pop into view, going target by target, plucking the arrows and then bringing them to the table in front of us. Sylvie quickly counted, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Jessica, 12 arrows, 106 points," "Allen, 12 arrows, 109 points," "Jakob, 9 arrows, 61 points."

"Rosanna 5 arrows, 50 points," "Lawrence 14 arrows, 114 points," "Wesley, 12 arrows, 108 points."

"Elsa, 13 arrows, 88 points," "Sylvie, 15 arrows, 119 points."