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The following two fights went by with little enthusiasm from the audience. Their thirst for blood had been beyond satiated, and now they were simply left sick. Foley withstood his opponent’s attacks as always, waiting for him to tire before opening his defenses and striking back. Saimallah crushed his opponent without touching him, ending the match in seconds.

The next morning, Valia stood in the garden behind her home, overgrown after a year of neglect, but still beautiful. She held her sword out in front of her, breathing deeply. Step by step, she underwent the Dance of the Ivunara, an elvish custom performed before battle, as well as for exercise. It was a war dance to ease the body’s mana flow and loosen the muscles. Each day was easier, and she felt like she almost back to her old self.

Sophia clutched her hands tightly. “But I did know. I knew she had that venom because I helped her transfer its abilities to a vial of Abernathy’s Ichor. I warned her what would happen, how dangerous it was to keep that bottle, and implored her to destroy it. She didn’t listen and told me to keep it a secret. To my shame, I did, and now I have the king’s blood, and the blood of countless knights and soldiers on my hands. Cyrilo said she would take responsibility for anything that happened, but all she’s done is go with the flow, hiding behind lies. Every time I try to talk to her about it, about us facing our sins, she silences me. She did it today, which is why I came to you. I must admit, I’ve lost a great deal of respect for her.