You'll never take us alive [FOP]

If you want to catch me or keep me
I'll give you two tries

For almost the entire day, together with many of her other sisters, Sarya had been locked up behind the walls of the Sun ring, taking care of her horse and practicing her moves before she had to enter the arena. This was a day they had all been looking forward to, as they were now finally able to put their skills on display for the entire kingdom to see, so they could claim the honor of ridding their kingdom of a traitor. And it was not only their own kingdom that came to watch the show but a lot of the other kingdoms as well, since many important families from all over Odiria had traveled all the way to Xaila to celebrate and watch the traitors be killed on this day.

They all wished each other good luck before entering. First, just displaying their skills on wooden targets, riding their horses through the round area. This time, Sarya did not as much focus on what the other sisters were doing, as she really wanted to become this year's champion, focussing more on what skills she was displaying within the ring. Trying not to let some concerns get in her way. In a way, she had half expected Rhysand to be participating as well. But on the other hand, she would not have been surprised if he was still laying in bed with a woman at this time. So, she tried not to think about it. Allowing, maybe, a little bit of her frustration with him to fuel her movements.

This really seemed to have worked in the end, since she was chosen by the queen as one of the three champions this year. It was a great honor, one she had not expected since she had never stood in the arena as a champion before. But she would make the most of it, that would be for certain. Softly she was brushing her horse, calming herself before her moment to shine would arrive in a couple of moments. One of her sisters came walking up to her, offering to further tighten the braces around her wrist. Sarya always chose to fight without armor, as she found it too heavy, disrupting her movements. However, her mother had insisted she wore at least a bit of armor in front of her chest, just in case her traitor would be a large brute. She kindly accepted the piece, fitting her perfectly as it once fitted her mother, who had worn it as a champion many years before. ”You can do it, just kill the bastard.” Her mother said before she returned back to her seat in the arena, granting Sarya another couple of moments alone before entering the large sun ring.

Without all the other warriors filling up the space, trying to prove their skills to the queen, the ring suddenly seemed absurdly large. Looking around the crowd, she could feel some nervousness setting in, knowing it would now be up to her to kill the traitor and take this honor. She stepped towards the middle, her horse standing close to the large door with one of her sisters holding onto the reins, just in case she needed her mount for when the traitor proved more difficult than she anticipated. Holding her spear at ready, she waited for the other end of the arena to open their doors, presenting her with the traitor she needed to kill.

Maybe we can mix up our sugar and heat
And we can caramelize

When’s it coming? Can’t recall
Oh mirror mirror on the wall

Even when his fate of ending up within the ring had been inevitable from the moment he was thrown into the dungeons, he wouldn't be Rhysand Zinyra if he didn't know how to bend the situation to his will to some extend. Instead of spending the night within his murky cell, he had found himself in between the silky, royal sheets of his former bride-to-be. Not exactly the type of night a traitor to the kingdom would expect. During their rendezvous in between the sheets, he had been well aware that this night could've been his last, though the Princess didn't grant him but a second to stray on those thoughts for too long. keeping him occupied until his eyelids had grown heavy, able to doze off in what could've been the comfiest bed he ever found himself in without much worry.

He had no idea what to expect as he was escorted to the ring, what kind of brutal opponent would satisfy Queen Radhja's petty bloodlust as they'd tear him apart in front of everyone to witness. Yet he remained confident in his abilities, shoving all glimpses of fear and anxiety to the back of his mind as soon as they presented himself in whatever shape or form. He made sure to steady his trembling hands and refrain from sinking his teeth into the inside of his cheek as they neared the entrance to the arena.

The realization that most of Xaila would be waiting for him behind that entrance slowly dawned upon him as he neared those doors. His parents, brother, sister, even his aunts, uncles and cousins probably. All of them excited for the last day of celebration, not aware of who's execution they'll be enjoying from their seats. For once it felt as if he couldn't simply shake off the glimpses of guilt -- and perhaps shame surging through his body and mind. His knuckles turned white from the grip onto his spear at the thought of all those eyes on him, both familiar and unfamilair. No matter how hard he tried to flee from his responsibilities, even deciding to leave his siblings and home behind alltogether, at the end of the day it all came circling back to him bringing shame to their name once again. Like some kind of wicked, dark magic he couldn't simply shake off.

No matter the intensity of the whirlwind ravaging through his mind as he stood there, all of it seemed to vanish as soon as those doors flung open, revealing the oh so familiar arena in which, this time, the audience would cheer for his downfall rather than his victory. A shove into his back forced him to take the first steps into the arena. Refraining himself from losing his neutral expression, he couldn't help but to delay coming eye to eye with the person standing at the other side, causing his gaze to cling itself to the audience as he neared the center of the ring. He actively avoided the space in which the royal family resided, refusing to grant them but a glance of the hint of fear in his eyes. There was, however, another pair of eyes he would've wished to avoid. A pair of odd colored eyes which made his stomach turn as he swiftly averted his gaze to the other side of the arena. He couldn't be bothered with his conflicting feelings on top of the situation he found himself in right now. At least he could grant the summoner closure of whatever it was what was going on between them, not having him question whether he'd be dead or alive once more, being able to witness it for himself this time. He could live out his dutiful live without distraction, now being aware of the fate of someone who actively chose not to.

Nearing the center of the ring, he knew that he could no longer stall the sight of his enemy. The tournament's champion, granted the honor of slaying the traitor on a day of celebration as his family and loved ones gazed down upon them. The thought alone caused him to grit his teeth and tighten the grip on his spear as he finally sought out the gaze of his opponent. A gaze with turned out to be awfully familiar, forcing that neutral expression to change into widened eyes and a loosened grip on his weapon, almost dropping it in the process. The champion standing in front of him didn't turn out to be some monstrious looking man which he'd willingly attempt to pierce with his spear. Instead, she turned out to be a woman. A woman who had showed him kindness when nobody else would. Someone whom he'd dared to sharer a hidden side of himself with during their travels towards the capital. A tight knot formed in his gut at the sight. The person supposed to be taking his life today was none other than one of the few people he dared consider his friend.

Sex and bitter cynicism
Laughing, watch it start to fall

If you want to catch me or keep me
I'll give you two tries

Sarya felt the pressure pushing down on her as she took those steps toward the middle of the arena, which felt like a lifetime with all those people looking down on her. When she shared the space with her sisters and the many other warriors, all riding their horses while showcasing their skills, she did not feel like she was being watched by so many people at once. However, it did seem as if the Queen had noticed her, otherwise, she would not be standing here, but she had not noticed it at the time. And now, everyone was expecting something from her.

The woman had been looking forward to this moment for a long time, because of the honor it would be, but now that she was standing there, she felt as if this tradition was maybe a bit brutal. It finally began to dawn on her that all these people were watching her because she needed to take a life, and usually, she did not mind killing people while she was simply defending herself, or her people, but this felt more like an execution where the traitor had no other choice but the fight for his own life, like a rat trapped into a corner. When the doors eventually opened in front of her eyes, she tried to remind herself that this would be someone who had done a lot of bad things in the eyes of the kingdom and who deserved to be punished for his crimes. That she would do everyone a favor by getting rid of this traitor.

But the moment her eyes glided over the slender figure stepping into the arena, not even looking at her, maybe because of nerves or because he was trying to find some people in the large crowd attending the event, she felt all the stress in her body multiply. Because this was not a traitor, not in her own eyes at least, but someone she considered to be one of her closest friends. Quickly, it seemed like she was taking a step back, glancing over at the sister standing near the door she came from, holding her horse. And she could see the same panic on her face as she realized who Sarya had to be fighting… Who she was expected to kill. She seemed to tighten her grip on the reins, even if Sarya was too far away to see everything so perfectly from the center, but she nodded, knowing this was going to turn out to be an escape.

The moment her eyes turned back to the necromancer, he seemed to have noticed her as well, and she could see his eyes widen when he realized. Her own face held the same expression, knowing she would not be able to end him in the way everyone now expected her to. Her feet nervously moved sideways, circling around him while she tried to steady them, along with her hands. She tried to give him a stern look, to let him know she had a different plan, that she was not going to kill him, but they still had to make this look real enough if they would ever dared to make it out alive. At yet, she could not help but let some of the fear shine through, knowing this could end badly for both of them if she failed. However, she had no other choice because killing him was not an option.

When she felt her feet getting more grip on the sand, she tried to push forward, pointing her spear at him and making an attempt to hit him with the stick, a careful and calculated move, something she would have done with anyone to test their speed and reactions, getting a sense on which leg they would use to betray their actions. But with Rhysand, she was more or less trying to find out if he understood the assignment. To see if he was going to defend himself against her for as long as he could until she could find the right moment for their escape.

Maybe we can mix up our sugar and heat
And we can caramelize