A matter of life and death
Arisha was in the zone. This was it. The moment she had worked for all her life was finally here. Soon she would step into the arena and do battle, to become Dominion Earth Champion. Only minutes now.
“For you, mother, sister, brother,” she whispered. She never included father in her mantra, he had no place there.
Eyes closed, she could feel the empty chamber around her, the smell of dust and old blood. It was warm, but not hot. She could hear the muted roar of the crowd beyond the door. The arena awaited.
Reshar would be difficult to defeat. Most would be betting against her. But they had been betting against her from the first. Let them.
As her mind poured over strategy, her hands touched her weapons in turn, an unconscious ritual she had kept since her very first battle. Her two knives, her spear — forged by Bartol himself — polished and gleaming, razor-sharp, and so familiar. She knew every nick and dent, every scratch.
She saw the battle before her mind’s eye, saw how she would fight, how she would win. Like no other champion before her. They would never expect it.
A strange feeling suddenly intruded on her vigil, breaking her concentration, and she realized it wasn’t sudden at all. She had been feeling odd all morning, a shakiness she had put down to nerves. But it…
