pleasant compared to his unhealthy appearance. He took a drag of the cigarette in his hand, but kept his eyes trained on her.
Selissa’s hands tightened around the sword hilts in anger. Who the hell did he think he was? She was one of the best fighters in the entire temple and the adjoining village, even counting all the travelers and war refugees that resided there. He had no business questioning her skills, just because she was a woman.
“Little girl, you say?” She answered, trying not to let her fury show in her voice. “Can a walking stick like you even lift a sword?”
The walking stick wasn’t fazed by her taunt. He merely continued to watch her calmly over the cigarette. “Why don’t you try and see for yourself?” He asked and rose from the stairs. He threw the cigarette on the gravel and put it out with his foot.
Selissa raised an eyebrow at the man’s challenge. Did he really want to fight her? She snorted scornfully, more than willing to teach this man a lesson. She threw one of the swords at him. It landed right between his feet, the blade cutting into the gravel. The stranger still wasn’t fazed. He stared at her calmly, before bowing down to pick up the sword. He easily dragged it out of the earth and held it up before him.
Selissa didn’t wait for him to be ready. She charged at him, sword ready to strike. She slashed and hit— Nothing. Eyes wide in surprise, she heard the gravel shift behind her. She spun around as fast as she could to block the incoming blow. Blades clashed against each other, and the strength of the strike sent her stumbling back several steps. She just barely managed to regain her balance before falling on her back.
She jumped back to make some distance between them. In her mind she heard Master Teren’thil’s voice scold her. “Never underestimate your opponent.” He had told her that so many times, and she cursed herself for forgetting.
She slid into a battle stance as she studied her opponent. He was standing casually in front of her, like they were not in the middle of a fight. She willed herself to calm down. Fury might have made her strikes stronger, but it would ruin her technique. She took a calming breath, before striking again.
This time he blocked her attack before making a strike of his own. But this time she was prepared and spun out of his reach. She aimed a kick at his stomach, which he just barely dodged.
They spun around, kicks and blows flying around, blades slashing through the air. No one got a direct hit at the other, and Selissa soon realized that they were too evenly matched for either of them to gain the upper hand.
She jumped back and stilled, chest heaving from her ragged breathing. The stranger stopped moving too, and simply watched her from the other end of the yard.
“You’re a lot tougher than you look, I will give you that. Let’s say we’re even, shall we?” Selissa said as her breathing started to return to normal. The stranger simply nodded, a smirk on his face that made her want to bash his nose in.
“Let’s say we are.” He agreed. He held her sword up for her to take, and she hesitantly stepped forward. There was still something about him that put her on her toes and knowing that she probably couldn’t beat him in a fight didn’t make her any more comfortable.
“Do you have a name, stranger?” She asked as she accepted the sword.
“Has no one ever told you that it’s rude to ask someone for their name before giving your own?” He said, the arrogant smirk never leaving his face. Selissa felt her jaw clenching at his attitude. Did this arrogant fool even know the meaning of the word humility?
She forced a smile to her face. “My name is Selissa. Pleased to meet you...” The stranger clearly heard the thick layer of sarcasm in those words, since he raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“Selissa? As in Sorrow? What kind of parents gives their child a name that means sorrow?” He asked. Selissa’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, before she hid her surprise behind a bright smile. She knew her name originated from Sinar, the ancient language of Sinaria. It hadn’t been used commonly in centuries and was now only used by those who studied ancient texts. The only ones who knew how to speak the language now were highly ranked priests and historians. For him to know the meaning of her name, he had to have some knowledge of it as well. Not for the first time since he arrived, she asked herself who this man was.
“Well, I wouldn’t know. I don’t have any memory of my parents.” She said pleasantly, the fake smile still in place. A strange look appeared in his eyes, as if he had just gotten something confirmed he already suspected. It was gone as soon as it appeared.
“So they abandoned you in this place? Like so many of the other unwanted children who live here?” He asked with such nonchalance he could be talking about the weather.
His tone swiftly ignited Selissa’s annoyance with him into full blown fury. He had no right to assume something like that! He didn’t know anything about her!
A pang shot through her chest as she realized that neither did she. The reason for her anger was not his words, but the fact that they might be true. No one had ever come searching for her. She had always told herself that her parents were dead, but maybe the truth was that no one wanted to find her.
She forced herself to remain calm. “It’s none of your business.” She said, before turning away from him.
“You’re right. It’s not.” He simply said before lighting another cigarette and turning away.
As he started to walk away, Selissa felt the need to have the last word. “Those things will kill you, bastard.”
“Alassane.” He said.
“What?” Selissa asked, brows furrowed in confusion.
“My name. And somehow I seriously doubt that this will kill me.” He said, chuckling as if it was some kind of inside joke.
Selissa could only stare in confusion as he walked away.
4
The sound of the village was a sharp contrast to the peace of the temple. Everywhere people were hurrying around, doing their work or the daily errands.
Although Selissa liked solitude, there was something about the bustling life of the village that she enjoyed. Maybe it was the lack of the solemnity that normally surrounded the people living in the temple or maybe it was the fact that she was able to blend into the crowd with everyone too busy to shoot her strange looks.
She made her way through the streets on her way to the village’s tailor. Calen had asked her to pick up the robes for the new set of apprentices that would arrive soon. Every year some of the priests accepted apprentices that would study under them, later to become priests themselves.
She had never once considered trying for an apprenticeship herself, despite Calen’s insistence. She had a deep respect for Issara, but the life of a cleric was not for her. She was a fighter by heart and would never be able to live by the strict rules of priesthood.
Angry sounds arose from a crowd nearby. People were standing in a half circle, looking down and yelling at something in the middle. Selissa craned her neck to see what it was, but even her tall frame couldn’t reach over the people in front of her. She considered ignoring it for a second, before quickly admitting to herself that her curiosity would get the better of her soon anyway.
She stepped forward, pushing through the crowd under loud protests from the people around her. Finally, she managed to squeeze to the front of the masses to see what all the fuss was about.
On the ground lay the red-haired girl Selissa had seen yesterday. The boy who had accompanied her stood leaning above her, obviously trying to protect her from the angry villagers. Selissa tried to comprehend what the poor girl could possibly have done to upset so many people, when she realized that the problem was.
The girl was Marked. That was why everyone was so upset.
Someone threw a stone at the girl. It hit her on the cheek and left a bloody mark. Despite the fact that it had to have hurt quite a bit, the girl didn’t make a sound and merely shied away. The boy yelled furiously at the crowd for them to leave her alone.
Selissa fe
lt rage bubble in her chest. Had these people no shame at all? This girl’s only crime was the mark on her face, but still these people treated her like dirt.
She saw another person lifting his arm to throw the next stone. Before he could even react Selissa seized him and threw him into the people standing behind him.
The crowd immediately went quiet. Everyone was staring at her, obviously frightened by the violent look on her face.
“You should all be ashamed of yourselves!” She yelled, and a few of the nearest people shrunk back. “On what grounds do you attack this poor girl?”
A few gained back their courage at her accusation. A man stepped forward, disgust evident in his face.
“She got the mark of the demons!” He shouted, more people getting incited by his statement. “We don’t want scum like that in our town!”
“Demons? Look at her! Does she really look like someone who would harm anyone?” Selissa shouted, gesturing to the small girl behind her. She couldn’t be much more than twelve or thirteen years old, and as she cowered on the ground she looked even younger. She shrunk back, trying to hide as much as possible behind the boy at her side. Selissa met the eyes of the man who had stood forward. By the sight of her eyes, the man quickly started to fidget, unnerved by the strangeness of their silvery color.
“The only scum in this town are you! Cowards like you who only attack people