The crack of impact rang across the sparring grounds like a snapped branch in winter.
Damien staggered back, his boots scraping hard against stone as pain flared across his ribs.
Across from him, Kristin rolled his shoulders and smirked.
“You’re slow,” he said. “You're losing form.”
Damien wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. His jaw tightened.
“Again.”
They circled each other again under the now darkening sky, two predators measuring distance and intent.
A handful of students lingered at the edge of the grounds, pretending not to watch while very obviously watching. Kristin was sixth ranked in the academy. Damien of course was ranked number one.
Whenever they sparred, it was sure to draw attention.
Kristin lunged first.
Damien blocked, twiste
