The Name They Chose for You

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Morning arrived with the crunch of heavy boots on dry leaves. The five captives awoke, bodies aching from ropes and a night on bare ground. Thirst seared their throats like embers; hunger gnawed their guts with sharp teeth.

The leader stepped from the shadows, the three Instructors at her back. Her calm presence clashed with the prisoners’ silent despair.

“I’d hoped a night’s reflection would make you more… receptive,” she said, letting her gaze linger on each face. “But pride still keeps you warm.”

Kael moved forward, two short wooden swords in hand.

“How about a demonstration?” He tossed one blade at Zareya’s feet. “You’ve always ruled by strength. Prove it.”

Zareya lifted her chin despite the ropes.

“Untie me and see.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Kael grinned, slicing her bonds in one clean stroke. “Fair fight. You and me. If you win, everyone drinks. If you lose…”

His smile finished the sentence.

Zareya rubbed her wrists, took the sword, and fell into stance—years of Thessalian training in every move.

Kael held his blade like an old friend: no flourish, only brutal efficiency.

Her first strike was flawless—fast, precise, aimed at his right shoulder. Kael deflected easily and countered, driving her back.

“Pretty” he murmured. “But you fight as if there are rules and cheers.”

She came harder the second time. Kael blocked, twisted her wrist, and pinned her against his chest.

“No rules here” he whispered, shoving her away.

Zareya staggered, recovered. Fury blazed in her eyes—tinged now with doubt.

The fight rolled on. Kael didn’t just block—he predicted. Every polished strike met a raw, practical answer. When she tried a showy sequence, he simply kicked dirt into her face.

“Pretty’s worthless; I fight to win,” he said as she wiped the grit away.

The finish came when frustration blinded her and she lunged full-****. Kael slipped aside, locked her arm, and slammed her down, sword tip grazing her throat.

“Yield?”

Silence pressed like lead.

“I… yield.”

Kael stepped back, satisfied.

“Big talker… but no names yet, I see.”

He grinned at the group.

“Let’s keep it simple. You”—to Zareya—“Arrogance. You”—Myren—“Muscle. Long hair”—Torven—“Toy. The laughing one”—Jarn—“Jester. And you”—Thenara—“Loser.”

Back to Zareya.

“So, Arrogance… even you can fall.”

Yanna closed in on Thenara, still bound.

“Your turn, darling” she said, cutting the ropes. “Losing’s familiar, isn’t it?”

Thenara rubbed her wrists.

“One loss doesn’t define me.”

“No?” Yanna raised a short dagger. “Show me who you are, Loser. Maybe I’ll rename you.”

Thenara attacked with **** fury—wild, unpredictable. Yanna answered with patient precision: minimal blocks, surgical cuts.

“You fight like a wounded beast” she said, parrying. “Pain doesn’t strengthen; it telegraphs.”

She caught Thenara’s arm, wrenched it behind her back.

“Accept it. You were never what you thought.”

“Never!” Thenara struggled until pain broke her.

“I… accept” she whispered, collapsing.

“Good. First step’s always hardest.”

The nameless Instructor approached Torven with a razor. Wordless, he **** him to kneel and sheared golden hair.

“No!” Torven writhed, ropes holding tight.

Locks fell like dead leaves, followed by the proud beard. When finished, the Instructor shoved him over. The bare face looked young, fragile.

“Better. Now I see you.”

He nodded at Myren and Thenara, bound side by side.

“Our hunters need sport. Which of them suits?”

Torven’s voice cracked.

“I…”

“Choose, or we take both.”

“I can’t!” Tears streaked the newly shorn cheeks. “I can’t choose!”

“Interesting.” The Instructor shrugged. “Both it is.”

The leader faced Zareya where she lay.

“Water” she said. “Ask for your group.”

Zareya rose slowly, dirt clinging to her.

“Give my group water.”

“Ask.”

“I command—”

A fist to her gut dropped her to her knees.

“Ask.”

She glanced at her companions—thirsty, broken, waiting.

“No.”

The leader sighed.

“Fine. Since we won’t let them die, your body pays. Today, you are the Instructors’ entertainment.”

Kael’s hands pressed her shoulders.

“Remember” he whispered. “You chose this.”