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Chapter Forty-Four: Temperament
“Did we win?” Stratin broke the silence that enveloped the arena, voice panting. “Did we?”
Kilvic spared him a solitary glance. Did it matter? There had been four of them against one of her. Though victory should be taken in whatever form it came, this was a victory he cared nothing for. If your life was truly at stake you would. Kilvic almost frowned at his own thought. It was right. Still…
He sighed. “Yes, we won.”
As if released from a spell, Stratin slumped to the ground in relief.
Ahead of them Fyodan approached. Behind them, Moss lumbered along damaged bones no doubt mending themselves. The amount of reia required to create, and operate such an arena needed to be greatly vast. Here, unlike the arena used for the winter hall fest, death was not circumvented. But a vast room that could heal wounds on the scale of even broken bones in mere minutes was powerful… too powerful.
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