Bang. Smack. Smack. Woosh.
I repeat the movements, over and over, trying to nail the combo against the training dummy.
Smack. Smack. Bang.
I have to get stronger.
I have to get better.
"You know, my dear Number 23, if you keep hitting it that hard, you'll break it."
Mid-punch, I freeze.
I turn to see her perched on the railing, legs crossed, posture lazy and flirtatious. Typical. More skin on her than brains—it's always the same with her.
"Since when have you cared about me, Number 22?" I snap.
"Never," she replies lightly. "I care more about the dummy than you. But you stopped all the same."
I scoff and head toward the well. She uncrosses her legs and drops from the railing into the arena behind me. I scoop up a pail of water and drink deeply, easing my parched throat. It's probably been hours.
"You need to talk about it," she says.
"Not to someone like you. Go flirt with Kaelith."
She rolls her eyes. "He isn't here at the moment."
"Exactly the point."
"And I bet you miss flirting with that black-haired one."
I spin on her, rage burning in my eyes. "Don't say another fucking word."
She meets my glare without flinching. Then she smiles.
"Now there's the look I wanted. Ohhh yes—perfect. Just like Kaelith."
"Don't compare me to the protégé."
I turn back to the dummy and resume striking it, fists slamming into worn wood.
"You know," she continues casually, "you're both so serious. So scary. But if I had to put my money on who's stronger—"
I whirl toward her.
"—Kaelith would be my first choice."
I've had enough—I want to swing at her.
But she's already running off, waving mockingly over her shoulder.
I clench my fists.
Of course she's right. I know she is. I can't compare to him.
That's why I'll become strong enough to beat him.
"Aaahhh!"
I drive my fist forward. The dummy's wooden head cracks cleanly and splits apart.
Ever since that day, the anger hasn't left me.
He has anger too — but there's something else inside him. Something I don't have. Something I can't grasp.
What has he found that I haven't?
It infuriates me.
I begin pummeling the dummy's body, over and over, ignoring the sting in my knuckles.
I want answers.
I want strength.
And I'll do whatever it takes.