One. Two. Three.
One. Two. Three.
Jeva's arms hurt. He wasn't a powerfully built man like his father, didn't have his size either. Keen eyesight and being reasonably fast were really the only tools he'd brought to his training since the first day, well, that and an unholy determination not to be told those were the only tools he'd brought to his training.
"Do you really think it'll matter this close to the games?"
"I just don't want to look like a fool." Jeva ran a hand through the mop of short hair held back by a simple leather cord. "We've got local heroes, tournament champions, and aspirants coming from all over the region. Not going to end up another star struck local kid beneath their notice. Not this time."
Shaya walked down the steps, hooking her thumbs in her leggings and stopping to look upwards, breathing the spring air in deeply and shrugging softly as her brother leaned on his knees, still panting from the near continuous knife throwing he'd done since dawn.
"You were fifteen. I was thirteen. We WERE starstruck local kids, Jev, the competition's always been friendly plus or minus a few shouting matches and a couple of fistfights. It will be fine, you'll see."
Jeva's deep blue eyes looked almost haunted as he stared her way. "Back then, we weren't occupied and father was still here." He regretted it instantly. Shaya's smile vanished and her gaze dropped. "Shay..." his voice softened, his eyes casting off to one side and then back to her as he scrambled to soften the blow. "what I mean is that thing have changed and eveyone's worried. Competition or no, a lot's happened in six years. Dalton Rush isn't just some common meeting place for farmers and woodcutters, it's the administrative seat of the region. I mean have you looked around, we're the ONLY ones competing this year. All the other training ... kinda stopped."
"You think too much." Shaya pulled her long hair back and tied it up slowly, creating the long, central braid down the center of her back she usually wore when doing her own training. "We've been working every day, and whether we win or not, all the news from the front says the war might be over." her smile crept back across her olive skinned features as her brother's expression went slack with surprise. "Ahhhuh!" she nodded curtly, mischief glittering in her eyes before she spun on one heel before deliberately dashed back up the hill towards the house. "I guess the dead are fighting themselves now, so soldiers might get to come home! That's what administrator Peake was saying, anyway." her voice stuttered with her footfalls as she ran, her speed picking up as she heard him start to come after her.
"What?!?" he yelled. "Hey, no way, you can't just tell me that, how do you know? when? Does that mean we don't have to send tithe this year? SHAYA!"
"What?" her head poked out from behind one of the shed doors, the girl already wriggling into her practice armor. "Come on! Let's head into town! We've got a festival to help with before our guests arrive!" She took off running through the trees, a shortcut along the stream towards the main road to town.
"..."
Jeva stopped and just stared, the fatigue of his morning drills making the idea of chasing her even to the storage sheds through the fruit groves an insurmountable task. "She knew the whole time..." he grumbled, rolling his eyes.Thoughts of tossing his sister into the stream when he got the chance, it's waters still icy with winter run-off crisscrossed with muttered curses about deliberately luring him away from his perfectly well earned sulk.
But he, too, was smiling.
Father might be coming home, and the stress of the town's occupation, it's missing members, and the fear of the war might finally be over.
