Jasper paced the arena in the orange light of dawn, waiting for his opponent to come forth. He was covered with as much mint as he could mange: it was shoved in his pockets and even a trace amount lingered on his blade. Wood emerged already sneezing profusely and scratching his skin whenever possible. He was shaking a bit too; the reaction had truly weakened him. Jasper wondered if he'd vomited the night before and felt an uncomfortable twinge of pity for the general.

Then he remembered Myra and his task and the pity disappeared. This man was a cold-blooded killer, one of many of Medea's willing puppets oppressing the valkyries. He deserved what he got.

Jasper entered the ring, eyeing Wood warily. Even with the reaction the general was still a threat. If he lost the match against him than he would be put on probation and prevented from challenging for six months. They didn't have that time. Jasper needed to win.

Wood attacked like a rabid dog, savage and furious. Most of his opponents had. They suspected him of whatever ailment they suffered—whether it be poison or a call to night duty that Lysandra arranged to tire them before the match began—and so they attacked savagely, wrathful and angry. Jasper remained calm and collected, carefully dodging every violent blow.

Beyond the savage façade Jasper could see Wood's failing, his slip-ups. His hands trembled on the sword, the itching distracted him, he wasn't careful with his footing. It would be easy to take the right moment and knock him off his feet. Jasper struck against the general's defence and found it unyielding. A better fighter might have broken it but to him it might as well have been a Witch Wall.

All I need is the right strike, he thought to himself. The blade was laced with mint, courtesy of Lysandra. He darted around Wood, moving too swiftly for him to catch. In a sudden, swift move he struck and earned a cut on his opponent's arm. Wood winced slightly but responded in half a second, giving Jasper a gash across his leg.

On the surface, Jasper's was the worse injury and his risk in giving the general an opening a foolish one. But he watched as the reaction began to take place, carefully staying out of Wood's reach until it set in.

"Send for a healer!" Someone called out. "He looks ill!" Jasper gritted his teeth. He needed to end this quickly.

He struck a series of quick, hard blows. Although he was no master, years of training seemed to have had some effect. He could hold his own—even if he couldn't move like a whirlwind in the way of Myra and the other valkyries. At last Wood left his left side unguarded and Jasper took the opportunity with two swift movement, leaving the general unarmed and his sword at his throat. Awkward clapping filled the stadium. Wood was as close to a master with the blade as humans ever got. It seemed impossible that a young upstart had bested him. Jasper bowed and left the arena, smiling as Wood handed over his general's ring.

"Adequate," Lysandra grunted, which was as close to praise as the princess ever got.

————————————————

Talia

Jasper had done his best. Now it was up to Talia.

She sat in her rooms and fiddled with a necklace, bringing herself into a deep state of something akin to meditation. Her magic gathered to her and

she reached through the palace in search of her prey.

Talia flicked through the minds she found, sifting through some to determine Green's location and leaving none with any clue of her coming. She was silent and unseen as she crept through each mind, leaving her own body far behind as she worked her way through the vast palace...

There. Green's mind opened up to her and she wandered through it, searching for the eye. This time it was engraved in stone. She pressed her hand into it and slipped through.

Green was in his room, flicking through the strategy book. Talia filtered through the threads of his mind, searching, searching, until she found the right one. With a single thought his mind slid into a bleary haze.He'd remember what came next only vaguely. He'd have no reason to blame her when they meet in the ring in an hour.

Next she travelled to the part of his mind controlling his movement. She made him stand up like a puppet master and tripped him over his own foot with a mere thought. Pain rushed through his brain as he landed on his knee, but not enough. Talia picked him up again only to have him knock against his table on the same knee. The old wound roared with pain as the skin split open to give a small trickle of blood. She amplified the pain just a little and blocked the wound from starting to heal.

Talia withdrew with a second's thought. The man would barely remember what had happened but the pain in his knee would still rage in an hour's

time. She was a better fighter than Jasper. That small advantage would be enough.

————————————————

"Elf," Green spat at her as they entered the ring. "No Asriel scum will ever be a general of my army." Any sympathy she felt for him died in an instant.

"This isn't your army." Talia smiled. "It belongs to the Empress. And she had no objections to me joining your ranks. I'm sure she won't have any objections to me commanding them."

"I suppose we'll never find out," Green spat. "No burning elf is going to best me."

"We'll see about that." Talia replied, her smile mischievous. Green rushed at her like a raging bull and she sidestepped with easy, calculated moves. She'd sat across negotiating tables with people involved in the attack that killed her daughters, with the man who had slaughtered her entire family and destroyed her home. She'd praised an Empress who murdered her people. A hotheaded general throwing insults at her wasn't going to make her reckless.

All it took was a few simple blows and gashes on his already injured leg for Green to lose all concentration. He rushed at her, savage, and she easily caught him off balance and disarmed him. Even without the sword he still attacked her and she was so surprised that she struck out with a single swift blow and her blade caught him in the side. He let a confused and pained cry and slumped to the floor.

Healers rushed to help him. No one was meant to die in these fights. She expected someone to chastise her, even arrest her but one healer simply pulled the ring off his finger and gave it to her. Across the arena, Medea smiled at her.

The smile was worse than any punishment could have been.