19.| Give Me All You've Got

The icy morning air nipped at my skin as Bryard led me across the frost-coated courtyard. We approached the east side of The Hollows, where a cluster of bewildered new thralls huddled together, their breath forming misty clouds in the crisp atmosphere. 

Despite the snow and ice blanketing the concrete, an unseasonable warmth hung in the air, a stark contrast to yesterday's bitter chill.

My eyes scanned the group, a wave of relief washing over me as I spotted Dyon among the newcomers. Trynton's sharp gesture left no room for interpretation—I was to join the lineup. 

"What a savior," I muttered under my breath, sarcasm dripping from every syllable as I trudged over to take my place.

Trynton loomed before us, his massive arms folded across his chest like immovable tree trunks. His piercing gaze swept over our ragtag assembly, assessing each of us in turn. 

"Morning, you miserable lot," his voice boomed, shattering the uneasy silence. "Today, you train to appease your masters. Survive, and you might earn rewards... or perhaps even ascend to the rank of Punisher yourself."

To my surprise, Dyon's voice cut through the tension, a glimpse of his old self shining through. "Like any of us wants to be like that," he quipped. I fought to suppress a smile, grateful for this small act of rebellion.

Unable to resist, I chimed in. "Come onnnn, you know it sounds fun to whip a thrall and make their life hell." I rolled my eyes dramatically, the sarcasm practically visible in the air.

"Xavier." 

Trynton's sudden call of my name sent a jolt through my body. I snapped to attention, my spine straightening involuntarily as I met his steely gaze.

"Yes?" I managed, my voice steadier than I felt.

A cruel smile played at the corners of Trynton's mouth. "You want to be the example since you want to talk? I can show you that to ca you off guard."

My face contorted into a scowl, but I kept my voice level. "Uh, sure." The bitter irony of our previous encounter in the branding room wasn't lost on me. Out here, surrounded by thralls and fellow Punishers, Trynton's caring facade and Scottish lilt had evaporated like morning dew.

"Wasn't an offer," Trynton growled, jerking his chin. "Get over here."

I hesitated, glancing at the sea of faces around me, silently pleading for another victim. Finding no salvation, I stepped forward, coming to a stop beside the hulking man.

"Block," Trynton commanded.

Confusion furrowed my brow. "What am I block—"

The world tilted on its axis. One moment I was standing, the next I was airborne. Trynton's iron grip seized my arm, his leg sweeping mine from beneath me. Time seemed to slow as I plummeted, the hard concrete rushing up to meet me.

CRACK!

The impact drove the air from my lungs in an agonized howl. Pain exploded across my back, each nerve ending screaming in protest.

"What the hell," I snarled through gritted teeth, struggling to catch my breath.

Trynton's massive frame blotted out the sun as he loomed over me, his face cast in shadow save for the dangerous glint in his eyes. "That's where running your mouth gets you in a real fight, boy. One slip of focus, one misstep, and you're nothing but a corpse.."

His gaze shifted to the stunned onlookers, his voice carrying a chilling promise. "Remember this lesson well. It may be the difference between life and death."

I struggled to push myself up, arms quivering beneath me. "Is that... all you've got?" I managed to rasp, the taste of copper lingering on my tongue.

A flicker of surprise passed through Trynton's dark gaze, quickly replaced by a calculating look. "Still got some fight in you, eh? Let's see how long that lasts."

Trynton's massive frame suddenly burst into motion, his right fist cutting through the air like a wrecking ball. I barely had time to react, throwing myself to the left. The rush of air from his missed punch tousled my hair

As many times as my sister hit me for no reason, I knew I could rely somewhat on my reflexes. 

"Too slow, old man," I taunted, ignoring the protestations of my battered body.

Trynton's brown eyes narrowed. "Old?" he scoffed. "I'll show you old, you insolent pup."

He pivoted with surprising ease for a man his size, his left leg sweeping low in a vicious arc. I leapt, just barely clearing the strike, my heart thundering in my chest. Landing awkwardly, I stumbled backward, desperately trying to create some distance.

"Go Xavier!" Dyon shouted from the sidelines causing a few other thralls to whistle and toot. 

I smiled. Feeling good at something for once. 

Trynton pressed his advantage, closing in with frightening speed. His meaty hands reached for me, aiming to grapple. I ducked under his grasp, feeling the brush of his fingers against my shoulder as I rolled away.

"You can't dodge forever," he taunted, his voice a low rumble.

He was right. My lungs burned, each breath a struggle as I circled warily. Trynton's eyes never left me, dark and intense, like a predator sizing up its prey.

I feinted left, then darted right, hoping to slip past his guard. For a moment, I thought I'd succeeded. Then Trynton's arm shot out, faster than I thought possible. His hand clamped around my wrist like an iron vise.

"Gotcha," he grinned, triumph flashing in his eyes.

Using my momentum against me, he yanked hard, sending me flying. The world spun, and I hit the ground with a bone-jarring thud, skidding across the rough concrete.

Gasping for air, I forced myself to roll, narrowly avoiding Trynton's follow-up stomp. His foot crashed down where my head had been a split second before, the impact reverberating through the ground.

God I would've hated to see what would've happened to me if it landed. 

I scrambled to my feet, my vision swimming. Trynton loomed before seeming to approve of me.  "Still standing, eh?" he said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's see how much more you can take."

He charged forward, his blows coming faster. I got a dodge here, and a dodge there, but each time they became faster. I couldn't predict when they'd land and he struck me dead center in the nose. 

I stumbled back, clutching my face. "Ack!"

"Now," Trynton's voice cut through the air like a blade, his lips curling into a smirk. "You've lost. How about we have Anyae show you how it's done?"

Anyae? The name hit me like a physical blow.

My eyes widened, heart pounding against my ribs. This had to be some cruel joke, right? A trick of the light, a hallucination born of exhaustion and despair. 

He couldn't possibly be talking about the sweet girl who had died just two days ago—the one who'd pressed a water flask to my cracked lips and stuffed stale bread into my mouth when I was teetering on the brink of death.

I shook my head, willing the impossible thought away. There was no way. No way.

Trynton's massive hand swept through the air, and I heard footsteps.

From the shadows behind Trynton, a small figure emerged. Anyae walked forward with an unnatural grace, each step deliberate and measured. She came to a stop by his side, looking absurdly small and fragile next to Trynton's towering frame. 

Her familiar face was a mask of eerie calm, those once-kind eyes now glazed and distant. The soft curves of her cheeks, which I remembered being flushed with life, were now pale as moonlight.

Just what the hell was going on here? 

My mind reeled, grasping for any shred of logic or explanation. Was I losing my grip on reality? Had the horrors I'd faced finally shattered my sanity?

Who was this standing before me if Anyae was on the wagon with the other corpes?