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//Flashback//
A cold wind sliced through the clearing in the woods with icy abandon. Estel Brac
suppressed the tremors that threatened to overcome her slender form and took a deep,
relaxing breath. The girl standing across from her, Kalina Machen, five years her senior
at the age of eighteen, smiled menacingly. Strands of dirty blonde hair wrapped around
her as she watched Estel. Estel's long black ponytail, held securely in place with wide
metal bands, felt heavy against her back and the sword she held began to slip from her
sweaty hand. She shifted her grip from her left hand to her right and wiped her palm dry
against her pants. The breeze died down, leaving the clearing still and silent. Even the
birds had quieted their incessant chatter in anticipation of the duel to come. "Shall we
begin?" Kalina asked coldly. The brunette nodded sharply- the sooner it started, the
sooner it would be over.
The two girls moved to the center of the clearing, stopping several feet away from
each other. Wispy clouds of dust swirled around their ankles before settling back into
place. Hatred burned in Kalina's green-gray eyes. "I hate you," she snarled. "You have
made my life a living hell ever since we first met." Estel remained silent, taking every
insult flung at her without flinching. At last the torrent of harsh words ceased, and the
two bowed slightly to each other, bound to the code adopted by all duelists. They raised
their swords until they clinked together. Sunlight glinted off the polished blades, catching
their double-edged surfaces. They pulled apart, slowly circling around the clearing,
catlike, watching each other warily. Kalina made the first move, lunging with the point of
her sword aimed at the other girl's chest. Estel dodged gracefully and counterattacked,
their swords clashing and filling the clearing with metallic rings. Soon, both girls' hair
was plastered to their foreheads with sweat. Breathing heavily, Estel could feel herself
growing tired. The sword felt like lead in her hand. Kalina was grinning triumphantly,
certain of her victory. With a fierce swing, she disarmed Estel, the younger girl's sword
falling at the edge of the clearing. Shock was etched in her delicate features as she looked
up at Kalina.
"No one has ever done that before. Congratulations," Estel said softly. Kalina
smiled savagely.
"This is just the beginning," the blonde hissed. Estel whirled around and slammed
her fist against a tree. There was a barely audible click, and then she turned back to
Kalina.
"I agree." A single-edged silver blade protruded from the bracelet on her left
wrist; an identical bracelet minus the blade adorned her right wrist. She smiled sweetly,
but her eyes glittered coldly. Kalina suddenly found that she wasn't so certain of an easy
win. "Now it begins," Estel said calmly. They began to fight again, closer than before,
Estel using the razor-sharp blade as her only defense. It caught Kalina's arm, leaving a
thin line of crimson in its wake. She hissed in pain and clutched at the wound, blood
smearing across her pale skin. The blade went for Kalina's sword hand next, and she
reflexively pulled back to avoid it, dropping her sword in the process. It disappeared
beneath the undergrowth. Estel began to advance on Kalina, a predatory smile on her
face. The blade brushed against the delicate skin of her neck, feather light, but just
enough to draw a gleaming drop of blood to the surface. It welled up before trailing down
her skin. She backed away until she could go no further, her shoulder blades pressed
against a tree. Estel pushed the blade back into the silver bracelet with a sigh of disgust.
"Did you really think you would win?"
"Bitch," Kalina spat. She lunged at the smaller girl and was rewarded with a swift
punch in the stomach.
"Don't mess with me," Estel hissed, green eyes narrowed in anger. "Not today."
Clutching her stomach in pain, Kalina raised her eyes to glare at Estel from beneath a
curtain of blonde hair. Bowing her head slightly she admitted her defeat. Estel watched
her for a moment before turning and retrieving the two swords. She held Kalina's out
toward the other girl, who grudgingly accepted it and slid it back into its sheath. Estel
quickly sheathed her own sword and turned on her heel. "Good fight," she called over her
shoulder. "You almost won. Maybe next time." She laughed quietly. Kalina watched her
walk away, seething at the girl's mocking words. Someday, Estel would lose, and then
who would be the victor? She smiled darkly. Someday…
//End Flashback//
//Professor Windwoode's Lab: Outdoor Training Facilities//
Michael had been chosen as Estel's combat partner, being the closest in age. She
was fourteen, he a year older, but they were fairly equal in skills. Aiko sat, her back to a
tree, watching them fight. They had been at it for nearly half an hour already but neither
one could gain an advantage over the other. The sun beat down mercilessly on them, and
sweat cut paths across their glistening skin. Michael was trying to use his weight to pin
Estel to the ground but she was too quick for him, dodging all of his attempts. The only
sounds in the clearing were those of labored breathing and muffled footsteps. Aiko's eyes
widened as Michael finally managed to pin Estel beneath him. She struggled for a minute
and then was still. As soon as he relaxed, she flipped him onto his back with her legs and
pointed a blade to his throat. "No weapons," he said softly. "You're cheating." Glaring at
him, she tucked the knife back into her boot.
"Hn. You're just a sore loser." Standing, she extended a hand to him, helping him
up. "Good fight."
Silver pressed his back against the tree, hidden in its dappled shadows. He
snapped a few quick pictures of Estel. "So this is Windwoode's new protegee," he
muttered to himself. "Quite impressive." Slipping his dark glasses onto his face, he
melted into the shadows once more, camera safely stashed in his coat pocket.
Aiko had noticed the man in the forest, even though Estel and Michael had not.
He had taken pictures and left. It was odd, but she decided to keep it to herself. After all,
he was probably one of their own. Few people were foolish enough to be near if they
weren't. She blinked and looked back at Estel and Michael. They were hugging now,
Michael whispering something in her ear, Estel smiling but not laughing. No one had
ever seen Estel Brac laugh, and it was rare for her to smile. She was always so serious,
perfectly offsetting Michael's teasing playfulness. Aiko envied their closeness. It was
something she had never had the luxury of having with someone. She sighed. "Come on,
Aiko," Michael called. "Let's head back. It's getting late." She stood and, after one last
glance to where she had seen the mysterious man, followed Estel and Michael back to the
professor's lab.
//Professor Windwoode's Lab: Indoor Training Facilities//
"You can do better than that," Professor Windwoode taunted. "Give me your best
shot." Estel grinned and wiped the sweat out of her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Whatever you say," she replied easily. She pulled back her arm and swung at
him, catching the side of his jaw with a resounding crack. The professor winced and
gingerly rubbed his face. A rather nasty bruise had already begun to spread across his
face where she had punched him.
"Better," he said approvingly. "Now do that every time, okay? Take a break and
meet me in the shooting range in ten minutes." She nodded and took a sip from her water
bottle. Handing a small package to Estel, the professor said, "Here, I think you've earned
this." She sat down her water bottle and unwrapped the package. Inside were a small
black handgun and a box of bullets.
"Thank you," she said, inspecting the smooth black metal casing that gleamed
under the light. It fit her hand perfectly as she held it up and sighted, pulling the trigger
experimentally. It wouldn't have much recoil. Nice. The professor, still massaging his
jaw, nodded and turned away. Estel gathered her things and set off after him. Next would
be target practice, one of the areas in which she greatly excelled. Her keen eyesight made
her an extremely accurate shot. Of course, the fact that the professor worked her long,
hard, and often only served to improve her skills. It was exhausting, and she would often
collapse at night, completely drained. But she was getting stronger, better, faster. Muscles
rippled beneath her smooth skin giving her a catlike appearance. All of her hard work
was beginning to pay off.
She pushed open the door to the shooting range; the professor was already there.
A row of increasingly smaller targets was nailed to the wall. Raising the gun the
professor had just given her, Estel let her eyes go cloudy as she focused on the large red
circle, the center of the first target. Her fingers clenched around the trigger, sending a
bullet into the almost exact center of the circle. She smiled in satisfaction and moved on
to the next target. Each shot she fired hit its mark. "Excellent work," the professor said,
the praise a rare treat. However, she did not let the compliment go to her head. It would
affect her performance, something she never wanted to do. Glancing at his watch, the
professor said, "All right, that's enough for today. Get some sleep." Estel nodded,
suddenly aware of how tired she was. She made her way to her room and quickly
changed into pajamas. After giving her face a quick scrub and brushing her teeth, she
collapsed bonelessly into bed. Sleep overwhelmed her almost immediately and she fell
into a deep slumber.
A while later, she was awakened by shouts that were coming from a room down
the hall. The professor was arguing with someone; it sounded like Fey. Letting her eyes
adjust to the darkness, she got out of bed and stealthily crept down the hallway. There
was a faint line of light under the door of the professor's private office. She could hear the
voices more distinctly now. Assured that it was indeed Fey and the professor, she knelt
on one knee in the shadows by the door and began to eavesdrop on their conversation.
"I'll do what I damn well please with that girl!" the professor shouted angrily.
"But use her as a weapon? After the war, then what?" Fey demanded.
"Destroy her. That child will be of no use to the Revolution Forces once we have
won the war. She will be a danger to society and herself. I may have trained her too well.
But she will be a useful tool in battle."
"But she's only a child! Fourteen! You can't just terminate her! She's like your
daughter; she looks up to you. Would you really be so cold hearted?"
"Yes," he replied calmly. Estel was horrified. He meant to kill her? She hurried
back to her room, falling into bed just as the door down the hall opened. It slammed shut
and footsteps started towards her. A head was thrust into her room and she quickly shut
her eyes, feigning sleep. Apparently fooled, Fey continued on. Estel got up again and
hastily began to pack her things. The professor was still in his office, probably back at
work as usual. There were still several hours until sunrise, enough time to be long gone
before they even realized she was missing. She zipped up her bag and hefted it onto her
shoulder. It was packed with all of her few belongings, including her gun and bullets. She
had dressed all in black- it would be easier to remain unseen that way. For an instant she
thought of the others, of Michael and Aiko, but she knew that she must go alone. One
quick stop and she would be on her way.
The safe was in a small room at the end of the hall, locked but unguarded.
Crouching by it, she pressed her ear to the cold metal and spun the dial clockwise. There
was a faint click and she began to twist it counterclockwise. Another click echoed in her
ear, and then finally another. The heavy door swung open silently on well-oiled hinges.
She pulled out a stack of bills, just enough to live on for about a week, and stuffed them
into her bag. She shut the door of the safe as quietly as she could and made her way to the
back entrance. Pulling a knife from her boot, she disarmed the security system and
opened the door. It swung shut behind her as she disappeared into the night.
//Revolution Forces Headquarters//
Silver held the photograph up to the light and studied it carefully. Estel was of
medium height, slender, with waist-length black hair pulled back in a ponytail and
fastened with hinged metal bands. Picking up another photo, his eyes were drawn to her
hands. She seemed to be left-handed, and it looked as though she had only four fingers on
her right hand. He tossed the photo onto the table and sighed, running a hand through his
spiky white-blonde hair. Estel was certainly attractive, with strongly delicate features and
wide, catlike green eyes. The laptop on the table in front of him beeped, its work
completed. The screen displayed the password to Professor Windwoode's private files,
one of which would logically contain information on Estel. There was one labeled
"Weapon Profile" that caught Silver's eye as he scanned the list. He clicked on it,
bringing up a detailed profile of none other than one Estel Brac. Ignoring the first section
of physical statistics- hair and eye color, height, and the like, all of which he already
knew- he scrolled down to the good part. There on the screen, in small black print, was
everything the professor knew about the girl, really no more than a child, who he was
training as the Revolution Forces' ultimate weapon. Apparently she had been abandoned
at a very young age and grew up on the streets. Eventually she had been trained as a
duelist- it did not give specifics- and lived off the money she won. It was quite
impressive. But then, after several years of dueling, she had accidentally killed her best
friend Zoeliana Feldspar in a duel, losing her right ring finger to an infection caused by a
sword wound left untreated for too long. After Zoeliana's death, Estel had fled, scared
and alone. Windwoode, who'd had his eye on her before, seized the opportunity to take
her in and begin her training. Once the war was over, he planned to execute her, thinking
that she would be useless with no more battles to fight. There was extensive
documentation of all of Estel's training, everything she had ever been taught. It was
extreme, how much he had put her through, more than most people her age would be able
to handle. But he was beginning to see that Estel Brac was no ordinary girl. Of all her
training, she seemed to excel in handling guns and hand-to-hand combat. Not bad for a
fourteen-year-old orphan.
Someone was coming, brisk footsteps ringing harshly down the corridor. Silver
quickly shut down his laptop and slipped it and the photographs into his bag. He darted
from his seat and ducked through the back door just as the other door opened. Nydia
Yamoree stuck her head into the room, her keen nose twitching slightly. Someone, a
stranger, had been there recently; their scent still hung in the air. She frowned.
Headquarters had been infiltrated, but whoever it had been was gone now. She shut the
door. Windwoode would want to hear of this.
[tbc] scarlet_
