spacemaxmarine

Sarah’s hand rested on her dad’s stomach, firm with muscle but covered with a bit of body fat he couldn’t help with given his busy days. She slid her hand up and down, enjoying the feeling of his hair rubbing against her skin. Wriggling her face even closer she brought her head right up to his armpit, her nose a few inches away from the hair and sniffed. It was a bit tarter than his usual body odour from the sweat, but it was also a lot stronger which was what she really enjoyed. She dared to move her face even closer, until she was almost touching it and breathed deeply. Sarah was well on her way to forgetting that nasty dream as she inhaled her father’s scent, but on her next breath his hairs trembled and tickled her nose, causing her to pull back a bit. She didn’t want to risk sneezing and waking up her dad. He needed the sleep.

Alexis sighed. “I’ve lost fights before, plenty of times, as you can imagine. But Bella, that was something else. I failed, Noah. I failed to protect the Knight’s Sheath, my comrades, the king. I was knocked aside by a monster that defies the laws of nature. No matter how much I train, how much I struggle, what good is it when someone like Bella, who never fought a day in her life, can suddenly become an unholy demigod and crush us like we’re insects? How is that fair? Part of me did want to take part in the tournament, to show everyone, including myself, how strong I am. But… I was afraid I would instead be reminded of how weak I am.”

Once again, Seraph thought back to Foley, and how they faced off in their duel at the academy. The stubborn dwarf had withstood a similar attack from Seraph, deflecting Seraph’s light blast even while spitting up blood. Seraph kept that image in his mind and slowly began to approach Phune. Now, it was a war of attrition to see who would lose their strength first. Would Seraph falter and be annihilated, or would Phune’s burning river turn into a dripping faucet? With every step Seraph took, that question echoed through the minds of everyone observing. The audience sat with bated breath, waiting to see if their prince would succeed.