Chapter 20 Freaking Psychopath
Ira’s POV
Cortis appears at the door not long after sun rays spill through the window.
She stands tall with sharp eyes scanning the room then stopping on me.
“You and you,” she says, pointing at me and Sia. “You are assigned to serve the warriors today. Water, clothes, whatever is needed.”
Sia’s eyes widen. “The training square?”
“Yes,” Cortis replies.
My stomach sinks. From Sia's expression, it's definitely not going to be fun. But then again, what ever is in this base?
Cortis walks closer. She pauses as she looks closely at me. Her gaze lingers in a way that feels almost admiring.
Yep, I'm just as confused as you are. 'Cause I'm pretty sure I'm not worth admiring, especially by a top guard.
“You look stronger today,” she comments lightly.
“Me?” I blink.
She nods. “Yes. You are carrying yourself better than I thought you would.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “I do not think so.”
Cortis smirks. “I do.”
The action stuns me to hard for me to speak so I just end up staring after her awkwardly even when she exits the servants quarter.
Sia nudges me with her elbow as soon as Cortis disappears. “I think she likes you.”
“What?” I frown. "What's there to like? Isn't she supposed to, you know, not befriend servants or something?"
Sia sighs, starting after her. "Ira, I don't think she wants to befriend you," she chuckles. "You do know she's attracted to you right. It was obvious from the day she brought you to the room."
I scoff at Sia and her exaggerations.
"No, I'm being serious. Cortis has never escorted a servant to the rooms before. And she certainly doesn't look at the rest of us like we are a rare gem,” Sia whispers dramatically.
“Don't you think you are being delusional?” I mutter, shaking my head as we grab everything we need for the job.
Sia glances up at me with doe eyes. “You are in denial.”
I pause for a moment, my movements freezing.
She's definitely insane.
For some reason, Sia finds my expression funny and bursts out laughing. I just watch her, partially enjoying the pure and joyful sound I haven't heard in days.
She laughs harder but she lets it go.
We grab the water trays, cloths and shoulder bags, then head out into the crisp morning breeze. The air smells nice, like trees with a hint of dust rising from the training grounds.
Warriors’ shouts echo across the open space, vibrating in my chest.
The square sits wide and harsh beneath the rising sun. Wooden stands line the sides with poles scarred from years of weapon strikes.
But what dominates everything is the sound.
Metal slamming, sharp grunts, breath tearing in and out, barked orders... A lot of unending orders, the occasional wince of someone hitting the ground too hard.
The last time I'd seen Ruel beat up that man but this time, watching everyone train, I can't tell which is more brutal.
And in the center of the square stands Ruel with bare arms and tense muscles.
Two men run up to him, their bodies sweaty, their eyes eager as they say something to him.
I watch as Ruel nods then rises to his feet, preparing to fight both men at once. They are both armed with short swords that look very much like long daggers. But he doesn't even have a weapon. Just his hands.
Who does he think he is? The god of war?
“Why is he always dramatic?” I mutter.
Sia snorts. “He trains like that every morning. People say it is how he relaxes.”
“Relaxes?” I whisper sharply. “Look how brutal he is even without a weapon.”
"Commander Ruel doesn't need a weapon Ira, he is the weapon." Sia mutters, her eyes roaming around as though searching for someone.
As we get closer, I smell sweat and something metallic, blood from someone already knocked down. No one seems to be paying the unconscious man attention.
What sort of training is this.
"You do know he is fine right?" Sia speaks again, nodding at the unconscious man.
"You call that fine?" I grimace.
"Yeah, see, his wounds are healing. He's only recuperating."
Warriors move around us. None pay attention to us though.
Sia and I set down the water tray near an empty shade.
Immediately a young tall dark-skinned warrior walks over. Sweat trickles down his temple. His features are sharp yet kind. He nods in acknowledgement when he reaches for a cup of water.
Sia stiffens beside me, her cheeks turning pink.
“Thanks," he smiles at Sia before walking off.
Sia’s face falls. “He never talks to me.” She mumbles.
“He just did,” I whisper.
“No,” she groans. “He never talk talks to me. Like properly.”
I raise a brow. “Do you like him?”
“No,” she protests too fast. “I just think he is nice to look at.”
The man glances back at us and directly at Sia.
The moment their eyes meet, he quickly turns away, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
I stare at Sia.
She stares at me.
I shake my head.
She blushes bright pink. “Stop.”
"I didn't say nothing," I shrug, my eyes drifting back to the smug commander still fighting even after his initial opponents whimper on the floor.
The new set of warriors around him are three this time but just like the previous two, he defeats them.
Then the guy who's usually beside him walks up to him without a weapon.
Surprisingly the other warriors stop to watch.
"Elric is the commanders only true competition. But he can defeat him whenever he pleases." Sia praises again.
I notice their fight is different, faster and just as cruel as the rest.
Sia and I step back to avoid the dust. The sun rises higher and warms my arms and face. Shouts echo around us and I watch despite myself.
Elric lunges with remarkable speed, but Ruel blocks with his forearm, twists and forces Elric back three steps.
“He is showing off,” I mutter.
“For who?” Sia asks.
“Probably himself,” I say flatly.
Sia leans toward me. “He is strong though.”
“Strong people do not need to display it like a parade.”
“You sound angry.”
“I sound observant.” I mutter, almost rolling my eyes.
Elric dodges a swing, rolls and sweeps low, but Ruel jumps, spins and elbows him squarely in the back. The crack sounds painful.
“He is not even trying,” Sia says.
“That cannot be true.” I scoff, furious now.
Come on Elric, crush him!
I narrow my eyes. "I do not think he is as strong as they say,” I declare boldly.
The moment the words leave my mouth, Ruel grabs Elric’s wrist, twists it behind his back, kicks his leg and slams him flat into the dirt.
Hard.
My eyes widen and I step back, noticing how his muscles tightened when he rises.
He turns, those cold eyes locking with mine instantly.
My heart jumps. His gaze is not neutral. It is sharp, annoyed and smug. Very smug. Like he heard what I said. Like he slammed Elric just to prove me wrong.
Freaking psychopath.