d2 . eris murphy

"Shit," Madame Ruell cursed, jumping forwards and kneeling down beside the boy in front of Eris. Her dark brows were knitted into a tight frown, fingers going over the blow to his head, working their way to his throat as she searched for his pulse. Her shoulders sagged in relief, concern turning to anger in an instant as she shifted her burning gaze onto Eris.

"We've talked about this, Eris," she snapped, standing up as she rounded on the eighteen year old. Eris rolled her eyes, arms folded across her chest as she tapped a boot on the concrete ground. She raised a dainty eyebrow, meeting anger with smugness, trying to flame the fire that burned within their instructor. It was just another demonstration, another display of Eris' mastery of her weapons, another show that these children were just not up to the standard. Maybe, just maybe, if she were lucky enough, Madame Ruell might finally oblige her by shifting her to the Peacekeeper's training classes. She wanted bigger and stronger, she wanted people who made her sweat and work for her victory.

She was tired of the boredom that these classes brought her. Training at home with her sister was more exciting, having her father beat her with a well-placed punch to the jaw because he knew every one of her weaknesses was thrilling. But winning? Over and over and over again? Where was the excitement? How many times have you heard of someone wanting to be punched in the face- the thrill and excitement of the pain blasting across her cheek was exhilarating? Ripred, Madame Ruell didn't even let her push harder, calling off her attacks before she could make them scream or beg for her to stand down.

"Maybe you should start taking my advice, Madame," she sneered the word, moving to the weapon racks as she slid her sword back into place. "How many times do I have to prove that I'm ready to move classes?"

Madame Ruell stood, brushing the dust off her dress as she beckoned two of the other kids over. "Take him to the infirmary, please, Rhys and Jules." They nodded, scooping up him up in one movement before disappearing out of the room. The rest of the class stood at the edges of the room, eyes tense, shoulders tight as they watched the confrontation unfold before them. She moved to the weapons rack, placing the few remaining swords away.

"When you learn that fighting is more than winning," she spoke softly, words teetering on the edge of unheard as she forced Eris to take a step forwards to be able to hear what she was saying.

It was an intricate power move, but it was one Eris was all too familiar with, a favourite of their teacher's, it no longer held the strength it had when they were twelve. Eris rolled her eyes, arms falling by her sides as she was forced to endure the incoming lecture. She had tried many times to coerce their instructor into a battle, trying to prove her outright power through submission and belittling defeat, but the woman would retreat, or simply refuse to attack, taking a blow that would injure her knowing that Eris would not kill her. She couldn't become a peacekeeper if she had the blood of her dear innocent teacher on her hands. That was the one of the few things that could keep her in place, rooted by a desire trained into her by her father.

"Winning is the only outcome in a fight. If you haven't won then you're dead. So no, I won't fall into place just because you think it has to have some other nonsensical meaning," Eris snapped, spinning on her heel before storming out of the room. The silence echoed behind her, before Madame Ruell broke it with a single clap of her hands, continuing the class as if nothing had happened.

Her house was in one of the nicer parts of district two, two stories high with a shed attached to its side. The pounding of flesh on leather greeted Eris as she walked up to the roller doors, leaning on the side as she watched Laura throw a kick. Laura had a habit of switching to fist fighting when the weapon stopped landing the hits, it was a terrible move that would end in her death if it was an actual fight. There hadn't been a single victor that had one by throwing their fists, it was a promise of death, and Eris would try and beat it out of her before her name was called. There were few things in this world she liked and Laura happened to be one of them. Much shorter than her, but as brilliant as she was, falling in step behind her to become another extraordinary peacekeeper just like their older sister, Sam.

"Where's Ruth?" Eris asked, pushing off and walking inside. Laura paused, wiping sweat off her brow as she turned to face her older sister. "Ruth's helping out mum, you know she's not as interested in fighting as we are. As long as Dad has us on the straight and narrow she has a little bit of freedom."

Eris rolled her eyes, picking up the tape as she pulled off pieces and wrapped them around her knuckles and fingers. Laura shifted her attention back to the punching bag, but once Eris had finished taping her hands her sister moved towards the ring. "Ya know, Laura, you really need to get better with a sword or spear or axe-"

"When you get beat me in a fistfight I'll listen to your opinion," Laura grinned, beckoning her sister forwards before moving into a fighter's stance. Eris shrugged, slipping past the rope of the ring and standing opposite her sister.

"You have a fair point, but you're only a little bit better than me," Eris retorted, going in with the first kick to her young sister's side. Laura dodge, shifting her weight onto her left leg as she threw a punch. "Try and beat me with any other weapon after this."

Laura grinned, following up her punch with a kick that sent Eris into the rope, gasping as she gritted her teeth. "Deal."