The Chronicles of Onyx: Book 1

Chapter Eighteen

With a mighty swing of her blade, she managed to dodge the attack. The clashing of their swords sent sparks flying, illuminating the intensity in their eyes as they circled each other in the arena. The morning sun cast long shadows, and the air was filled with anticipation. Her movements were soft and precise, her body responding instinctively to every shift in her opponent's stance. She parried his strikes with a graceful finesse, her black leather armor glinting in the sunlight as she moved. The scent of steel and sweat filled the air as they engaged in the spirited duel.

Onyx faced her sparring partner for the day–Rok. The clang of metal echoed through the vast space as they clashed swords. Each swing was powerful, each parry precise, and they danced around each other like well-practiced partners.

With another swing of her blade, Onyx countered him with a swift strike, forcing him to block with all his might. Rok grunted in response, impressed by Onyx's skills.

"You've been practicing," Rok remarked with a grin, his eyes meeting hers as they continued their training. "Somehow better than before, but then again you were never the one to talk unless a fight is involved".

"You jest!" Onyx exclaimed with a nod, the thrill of the fight coursing through her veins. "But yes, the queen has granted me freedom to train," she replied, her voice filled with determination.

Rok's expression turned dark as he lowered his sword, signaling a brief pause in their sparring. "Onyx, be cautious," he warned. "The queen's motives may not be as clear as they seem."

Onyx furrowed her brow, a touch of defiance in her gaze. "I know better than to trust her," she remarked, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. "And I know she has her own agenda," Onyx replied, her wolf-like eyes narrowing. "But for now, I'll play her little game. I need my freedom, and if I can use this opportunity to gain it, I will."

Rok's concern for Onyx was evident in his eyes, and he hesitated before speaking again. "I just don't want to see you get hurt," he said softly. "The queen is cunning, and there's more to this war than she's letting on."

"I can take care of myself, Rok," Onyx replied, a hint of stubbornness in her voice. "I won't let anyone take full control of me."

Rok nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Just promise me you'll stay vigilant," he said, his voice tinged with worry.

"I don't need to promise," Onyx replied, her voice unwavering, her eyes ablaze with determination. "I will never look at the Queen as anything but my enemy, and she made that decision a long time ago." Her words were laced with a sudden fuel of hate, a fire ignited by the memories of past injustices.

Rok regarded her with concern. "The queen may not know what she's gotten herself into," he observed.

Onyx's lips curved into a sly smile. "Let her underestimate me," she replied, her voice filled with a hint of cunning. "It will someday work to my advantage,"

-ooooo-

Rok stood in the armory, watching Onyx as she carefully unstrapped her armor, piece by piece. Her movements were fluid and precise, a testament to the years of training she had undergone as a gladiator. He couldn't help but be captivated by the grace with which she handled her weapons and armor, treating them with a reverence that spoke of her skill and respect for their power.

Onyx placed her sword on a soft rabbit fur, using it as a cushion to protect the blade. With care, she rolled it up and stashed it in a wooden chest, alongside her armor. Rok's eyes caught the sight of the new intricate engravings on the blade, the word "Rivana" etched beautifully onto the steel. He couldn't help but wonder about its significance.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Rok asked, "What is Rivana?", but before she could answer Rok's question about the engravings the Queen entered the armory, her eyes fixed on the young necromancer. "Onyx," she called out, her voice carrying a sense of urgency. "I need you to come with me."

-ooooo-

Onyx glanced at Rok, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, before nodding at the queen and following her down the castle's halls, until reaching an empty chamber. It was dark and dead, unlike the lively aura many of the other chambers had held.

As they entered, the Queen closed the door behind them, and Onyx could feel a growing tension in the air. The Queen's gaze bore into Onyx's, her expression unreadable. "I'm going to remove the cuffs, but know this," she said sternly, "You will not leave this room without them. This is a gesture of trust, but I won't risk you using your powers against me."

With a determined nod, Onyx agreed to the condition. The Queen removed a necklace from around her neck, revealing a small, plain, key attached to it. Onyx held out her hands, and carefully Demeter unlocked the cuffs from Onyx's forearms.

The rush of power was overwhelming, and the Queen's thoughts became vulnerable to Onyx's mind. However, as the sensation intensified, a searing pain shot through her head, causing her to stagger.

She held out her hand catching three stray drops of blood that fell from her nose. The shooting pain became unbearable, clouding her thoughts and blurring her vision. Despite the agony, she managed to utter a hoarse cry.

In that moment of suffering, Onyx realized that the Queen's intentions might not have been as benevolent as she had hoped. The cuffs had been more than just a means of control; they had shielded her from the true extent of her powers. The sudden release had overwhelmed her, and she collapsed to the ground, clutching her head in agony.

There was no remorse in the Queen's eyes, only a calculated and detached demeanor that sent a chill through the air. It was as if Onyx was nothing more than a mere experiment to the Queen, a subject to be tested and manipulated for her own gain.

"Remember, you agreed to this," her thoughts warned as she left the room, the heavy wooden door closing behind her with an ominous thud.

The room fell into darkness, and Onyx was left alone with her pain, which seemed to intensify as if in the absence of another presence. The shadows seemed to close in on her, suffocating her in their embrace. Leaving Onyx to grapple with the pain alone in the dark room, where no one could hear her helpless cries but herself.