“AURELIA!” Milo’s horrified voice crackled through the speakers as she tumbled onto the turf. She rolled twice before landing roughly on her stomach. Her bike skidded off the track. Metal scraped against the ground with a sickening shriek. The piercing screech abruptly ceased when her bike collided with the arena’s wall in a crash. She propped herself up on her elbows gingerly. Luckily, nothing else seemed broken. She avoided the wreckage and a serious injury by mere seconds. 

“Ori, are you there?” Dante’s softly spoken concern rang in her head as she struggled to pull herself off the hard ground.

“What happened?”

“Jordan happened,” Milo responded tersely. His voice rattled around in her helmet, radiating pain in her skull. She hoped it was just a concussion. The Divinity in a Cosmic stone could heal something like that easily. 

Ori didn’t notice his bike pulling up beside her until her brother dismounted from the artificial black wyvern’s back and rushed to her side. At the first opportunity, Milo wrapped an arm around her carefully and helped her to her feet.

 Sabino and Dante caught up to the step-siblings moments later. The two waited apprehensively, muscles tense and ready to leap from their bikes with healing kits if needed. 

“I’m fine,” she grumbled to assuage their unspoken concern, skulking onto the back of Milo’s bike. “I’ll be sore tomorrow, but I’m in one piece. Let’s just get this over with.” Her body already ached from the rough landing, and the rest of her classes would definitely be miserable for the remainder of the day. Her team finished the rest of the track with a dark cloud over them.

Barely past the marker, Ciel had locked his arms under Cassian’s, restraining his teammate who lurched at the reckless rider who caused Ori’s accident.

 “Are you insane?” Cassian hollered, “You could’ve killed her! That kind of shit doesn’t fly in training! Let me go, Celius! I’m going to rip his head off!” 

Ori had no doubt that he meant every word. She dismounted the bike with Milo’s help and removed her helmet. She ejected the ruby from her grip and pressed it against her forehead. A cooling sensation washed over her as its healing properties repaired the damage. The ground felt sturdy under her feet, and the dizziness from her fall had already faded away. 

The Alpha Team regrouped with the pair confronting the second place team. Other competitors eyed the two teams, creeping up to the commotion and wanting to see how she would react to Jordan’s cheap trick.

 “You heard the signal,” Milo accused the smug combatant while hovering around Aurelia like a worried mother hen. She lowered the stone from her head and swatted his arms away irritably, stalking up to the rest of their friends. Jordan’s appearance did so little to help her impression of him. His stupid goatee and slicked back hair only added to Ori’s disdain. She wished he kept his helmet on, as his face only worsened her nausea.

“Can’t say that I did,” Jordan shrugged casually. “Even if I had, a good gladiator should always be on alert. Little girls shouldn’t play with the big boys if she can’t even do that.”

Cassian thrashed against Ciel again, “You son of a –”

“Combat ends when the first rider crosses the finish line.” Ciel interjected and tightened his hold on Cassian. Both of them glared at the other team with unforgiving heat. 

“It was a dirty trick,” Milo agreed tersely. The crowd of young gladiators grew as more riders crossed the finish line and completed the course. The onlookers didn’t seem to bother Jordan. He thrived on attention. Her aggressor had been pulling cheap shots for years, and Ori knew he sought the drama. He thrived on attention and found validation in making everyone around him feel small, no matter if he looked like a fool trying. He had never respected her, and to his ire, the feeling was mutual. 

“Forget it,” Ori advised her friends. “He’s not worth it. Besides, a coward like him can’t beat us even with backhanded tricks like that. If you’re going to cheat, at least make it count.” 

Jordan’s smug expression contorted into a scowl. Boys like him would remain boys well past their school years. Easy to anger and slow to reason, his pride bruised too easily, and he set his expectations far too high. 

An unwelcome hand snatched her arm as she turned to walk away. Ori spun on her heel to meet his scowl with one of her own, irritation flaring at his gall. 

He snarled at her through gritted teeth, “Don’t turn your back to me when I’m speaking to you!” 

Jordan puffed up his chest and used his height to loom over her, and she wondered how many women he intimidated with his height and size. He had tried it on one of her housemates when they were underclassmen, and Ori thought he had learned the hard way to keep his hands to himself.

He didn’t seem to realize that the lesson applied to his peers, too. He applied more pressure on her forearm. Ori didn’t want to give him another lesson. She wanted retribution, and the hand on her arm would make an excellent trophy. 

“I’ll give you three seconds to let go,” she snarled. She started to count silently, muscles readying to attack.

One.

Two.

Thr- 

“HEY!” Their supervisor bellowed over the track, and Jordan’s hand flew off her as the air thrummed from Orson’s powerful, booming voice. “That’s enough of that! Hit the showers, all of you! Go and cool your heads!”

Aurelia spared a final glare at the glowering gladiator whose legs still seemed to rattle from the gigantic man’s roar. Jordan shrank back, coward he was, as soon as their lumbering master made his presence known. She scoffed and walked off the track, shoving Jordan with her shoulder on the way. 

When Ori had enrolled at the school for gladiators, they had converted one of the underclassmen showers into a private locker room at her sponsors’ insistence. Other than this one offering of privacy and dignity, she received the same treatment as her male peers. She wore the same uniform and endured the same training. Her admission had been granted on the same grounds as her brother’s. They shared the simple task of guarding their home empire’s heir, but her sponsorship came with additional conditions. The more strings they pulled for Ori, the tighter they held her leash. 

Nevertheless, she put in the work and rose to the top alongside her teammates. She had to earn what came easily to the rest of them. Despite her contributions to their successes, Ori didn’t receive the same respect as the others. Some people couldn’t look past the fact that she was a woman on a training ground meant for men. Still, she preferred it to her other program. 

At the end of her shower, she let her short silvery hair loose and changed into fitted jeans and a simple tank top. She slid on comfortable, sturdy shoes and shrugged on a dark jacket, doing the buttons over her stomach to hide the large bruises forming on her skin. She left with her bag slung over her shoulder and waited for the boys outside of their locker room. Most of the other gladiators ignored her presence, but every once in a while she could feel the attention of some underclassmen flickering to her as they passed. 

“Hey, quit gawking unless you want to clean garages for the rest of the month!” Cassian snapped, announcing his presence behind a small group of particularly chatty students. They chirped their apologies and scurried away. 

She snickered at their figures retreating in fright of the imposing, dark-haired swordmaster. Then, she turned her attention to her friend and peeked around him in search of their teammates. “Where are the others?”

“Ciel and Milo went to talk Orson into demeriting Jordan for misconduct on the track. Sabino’s crying over your bike. And it’s the end of the week, so Dante’s washing his hair.” 

“They know that won’t make a difference,” she pointed out. “Jordan’s worse now than you were as a first year.”

Cassian scoffed derisively, “Yeah, I know. I was a stupid kid back then, but Jordan’s a grown man. He needs to know better by now. Speaking of first years, don’t you have a class at the girls’ school to get to?” 

“Changing the subject? I can wait for the others before heading out…” 

“You’ll fail another year if you don’t at least try to show up.” 

“Whatever,” she scoffed. “It doesn’t matter how many times I sit through the lecture. The magic won’t work for me, anyway.” 

This was the string Ori’s sponsors used to tie her down. In exchange for the imperial family’s approval to train and fulfill duties alongside her brother and her liege, she had to attend classes at the women’s school and prevent supposedly unsavory commonfolk from approaching the heir. Unfortunately for her, she had no talent for magic. At least, they told her, she could be of service to her empire just by going through the motions. Ciel’s parents were real pieces of work. 

Cass ran a hand through his hair and sighed, shaking his head at her unabashed defeat, “Shut up and just go ahead. We’ll meet you and the girls there after classes.”

She shrugged, “Have it your way. Hey, tell the team I said thanks for trying. I’ll see you guys later.”