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Weekly Contest #81
The newcomer strode through the entryway, shoulders squared. Verin watched as his eyes darted across the torch-lit arena. On a spring morning before dawn, the students of the King's Academy were practicing their fencing. Something in his nervous gaze felt vaguely familiar. Had they met? He looked eighteen or nineteen years of age, around Verin's age. “Look at those eyes.” Beside Verin, Aria casually flipped the wooden practice sword in her hand, an appraising expression on her face. “What do you think?” “Ah…” What sort of answer was Aria ...
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