The Fires of Idirsholas | Andres+D'Arcy - Day 2

The battle ended as abruptly as it had begun. D'Arcy and the boy from Ten had both landed their blows to the assailant, carving out more chunks of stone from the sculpted body. Through her fear there was a part of D'Arcy that was elated - she was doing it, she was fighting! Despite her failures in training she had landed hits on her attacker. Perhaps it had been her own doubt holding her back this whole time, and it had taken having no other choice but to believe in herself to let her talent shine through. Maybe it was simply that she needed that fear of death to truly be able to defend herself. Either way, she was starting to feel less and less like a damsel in distress. Maybe she could be one of those princesses that manages to slay her own dragons.

She had been bracing for the next strike of the great stone sword, already scanning for the best points she might be able to try and dodge to, when the knight suddenly changed course completely. It was back among the ruins, moving away from the duo as if already trained on a new victim to taste his blade. For a moment all she could do was stand there, trying to process the swift battle. Why did the knight leave them be? Had this just been another form of testing from the Gamemakers? Had they somehow passed the test?

Suddenly something else from her dream came back to her; the king's weathered voice, calling the knight "Champion". D'Arcy looked out in the direction the knight was moving. Could this have been the knight from her dream? Could she have just been face to face with the champion of the kingdom that made up the arena? If only she could remember more about that dream! Her gut was settling nicely onto the certainty that it had been a message to her, trying to tell her some sort of information that might just help her get out of here alive. But what?

The sigh brings D'Arcy out of her cloud of thought as she turns back to the boy from Ten as he glanced over the nick he received from the knight's sword. Up close now D'Arcy realized just how small she was compared to him; he looked every part the picture perfect tribute for these Games. A knight for the Capitol to send on a quest. Someone who could be as much danger to his enemies as they could be to him. As if reading her thoughts the boy turns to her, weapon drawn, eyes glaring down at her. All D'Arcy could do was bring her arms up to shield herself from the blow. How silly she had been, letting herself get carried away by the comfort it had been having someone fighting beside her against a common enemy. She let herself forget that she was alone in here, her life in her hands and her hands alone. The bigger threat was gone, her usefulness gone. She hoped he'd make her death quick and painless.

Except it didn't come. D'Arcy dared a peak to see the boy dropping his weapon, a smiling face extending out a hand to the rocks on the ground. Tentatively, she lowered her arms. "We sure did a number on that ol' thing," the words pouring out like warm maple syrup, "Ya know, you put up one hell of a fight for a youngin'". Kindness lingered in his drawl, and D'Arcy let herself relax. Perhaps he didn't have her death on his agenda for the day. "Th-thanks," the word caught on a tremble before she could grab a hold of her confidence, "but I'm almost certain I would be dead if you hadn't come to help me."

Perhaps that was why the boy from Ten (Andres, the name finally leaves the tip of her tongue) was letting her live. Gratitude that they were able to be there, work towards a common goal in a sea of selfish interests. He seemed much kinder than she had ever expected him to be. A part of her wanted to stick with this truce between them, have some sort of companion by her side to help get through the Games together. She almost asked him, as he scanned out across the rubble. Almost. But she knew better, deep down. She couldn't forget his training score, the highest of anyone else. Andres, her knight in shining armour, must have some deadly tricks up his sleeve. A rabbit knows better than to let a fox into its den.

"I'm sure if no one else has pulled that sword from that stone you'd have a pretty darn good shot at it." D'Arcy blinked and looked around as he spoke. A sword in a stone? Such a thing had escaped her notice until her eyes found it not too far in the distance, and now she couldn't believe she'd missed it. "Oh, I hadn't seen that before! I don't know though… swords weren't exactly my strong suit…" she trailed off as her mind wandered back to the training center. Her struggle to hold the sword with two arms, the sad thud it made against the dummy, the clatter as the sword fell from her hands and she fell to the ground. No, not much of her strong suit. Still, as she looked down at the jousting stick in her own hand, a weapon like the one she had now hadn't been good in those days either. Maybe it would be worth it. Could it hurt to try?

"What about you? Don't you want to try and get a sword too?"