“Eva, this is suicide, you must realize that.” Evangeline nodded stoically to her companion, although the fear in her eyes was impossible to hide. The pair, similarly dressed in traditional crimson sparring clothes, knelt on a drab gray rug in an otherwise empty room adjacent to the arena. When the younger girl, named Reiko, finished tying back Evangeline's hair into a tight bun, she tightened the scabbard of her weapon into her belt. The wide black canvas belt would hold the scabbard into place well enough for the next five minutes. Securing it further would be unnecessary. Evangeline was as prepared as possible for what lay ahead. After checking the lenses of her glasses, she stood up, and bowed to Reiko. “Whatever happens to me,” she said quietly, “make sure my journal is kept safe.” “I'll guard it with my life,” Reiko replied sincerely. Turning, Evangeline led Reiko out of the room and into the much larger arena. A large clear dome covered the cavernous area, and the motionless dots of thousands of stars could be seen despite the bright lighting. Well over one hundred citizens had shown up for the contest, filling barely half of the available seats. In another context, this would be an insult, but Evangeline didn't care. She was more interested in the dour man across the arena, the only other person besides Reiko and his own second who were standing. His helper, a man named Kaji, was someone who Evangeline counted as a friend. That relationship was irrelevant to his duties as assistant to Evangeline's feckless fiancée, whom she now faced. Daimyo Yurishi stood up from his front row seat and spoke in a booming voice. “Adeler Evangeline has chosen not to wed Takeda Hirojin,” he began. “As is his right, Takeda has challenged her in the arena. This is the last moment. If either party would like to submit rather than fight, now is the time. Takeda, you will lose all future right to claim a mate. Adeler, you will unequivocally surrender to Takeda and become his wife. Will either of you submit?” Takeda responded by drawing his sword and spitting on the ground. The crowd gasped, and a few spectators withdrew communication devices. Evangeline overheard one of them excitedly exhorting someone to get down to the arena quick as things just got more interesting. Evangeline was a little unclear on the exact meaning of Takeda's gesture, but she had to guess that it was yet another unforgivable insult for her to counter. She drew her own blade, a wickedly sharp instrument loaned to her by Yurishi specifically for this encounter, and threw away the scabbard. Yurishi gestured to the side, and Evangeline was surprised to see several Taiko drummers enter and take up their sticks. “How long do they think this is going to last?” she whispered to Reiko. “Long enough for some drama, anyway,” Reiko softly replied. The wiry musicians took their places in front of several large drums. Yurishi shook his head slightly in disgust at what was about to happen, and raised his hand. Evangeline found herself hoping that he would stop this madness, but she had lived just long enough among the People of the Eagle to accept and understand his devotion to their traditions, no matter how brutal. The Daimyo's hand fell sharply, and the drummers took up a slow cadence. Evangeline moved to the center of the arena, her sword held down by her right leg. If she was to die, it would be without showing fear. Takeda moved confidently to meet her, a sick grin on his face. Cruelty was his most obvious feature, which was only one of many reasons why Evangeline would rather die than become his wife. When they'd closed to only a meter, Takeda leaped forward and brought his sword down, shrieking like a fool. Evangeline barely moved. His blade stopped a few millimeters from her neck, and he sneered at her. “Are you so terrified of my skill that you cannot even budge?” he asked. Evangeline smiled. “Not really.” Takeda looked down and realized that the tip of her blade was resting neatly on his abdomen, directly below his navel. Evangeline pushed forward with barely enough force to knock over a wine bottle, and her sword slipped past cloth, flesh, and intestines. Takeda gasped in shock as he sank to his knees, all the strength in his body immediately robbed by agony. His sword fell across her body, tracing a thin line of crimson on her exposed skin and slightly fraying the fabric of her gi. The drummers sensed that the fight was over, and ceased their rhythm. No one dared make a sound as Takeda's severed inguinal artery quickly spilled a fatal amount of blood onto the floor. He never managed another word before he stopped moving. Evangeline flicked her blade to one side, retrieved her scabbard, and rejoined an astonished Reiko at the edge of the silent arena. “How did you know he would hesitate?” she asked, barely able to speak. “If this is my hell,” Evangeline replied, her voice wavering, “then I supposed I couldn't be killed twice.”
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