#nikkilimo

"Because it takes hours of practice." Sawyer responded, dropping his own blade to his side, "If you want to master the art of-"

I drew my sword back up, the metal humming as it pushed against the dense air, I was quick enough to take my brother slightly off guard as he followed suit a few seconds later. I hated it when he referred to fighting as an "art." There was no art in the act of killing, no poetry in blood that rushed past your fingertips with each slice of the weapon.

My hand was fast, taking a first shot at him as the tip of the metal grazed the front of his shirt, his own sword was pressed against the side of my neck quickly- the cool surface stung as it pushed close to my skin. Drawing in a breath I swiftly sung back, the alloys clanking as a longer fight began.

Each sound rang out against the silence of the forest as our usual practice rang out. He had certain mannorisiums that I was more than used to; the way his shoulders tensed, the exact pattern he would swing his cutter next, how tired he would get after the first couple minutes, letting his guard down.

I swung roughly, blades scraping together as I knocked his to the ground. I stepped forward, the tip of my weapon close to his throat as his back hit the rough bark of the tree looming behind him. His chest heaved up and down, his breath forming slightly as cold cut across the air.

"Surrender yet, brother?" I smirked as he shoved the shaft of the machete away; giving me a soft glare as I matched his chuckle. He shook his head, rolling his lumbering shoulders around. I felt his pain, knew the stiffness that resided in his muscles.

"It's all that extra training, you know." He shook his head as I shoved the machete back into the cow hide holder. The strap stretched across the brawn of my chest, blending in nicely with the black animal fur that lined most of my coat.

"That what?" I panted myself, knitting my eyebrows together.

Sawyer scoffed, putting his smaller blade into the holster that rested on his belt. "The late night sessions you keep with Heda."

I swallowed, keeping an eye on my well-built brother. He wasn't just a broad shouldered warrior, he was cunning. That was saying a lot, considering most of the people who fought around here were nothing but brawn. I was lucky enough to be raised in a family that valued education, and the right to defend yourself.

"You thought I wouldn't notice?" he had a small trace of a smile on his lips. Of course I knew he would notice, as would some of the other people in the camp. "Either way, it's obviously lessening my work load."

"Your work load?" I chuckled, hitting him roughly on the arm "Yeah, I'm sure I was a real challenge for you."

"Ow!" he hissed, rubbing the spot as he played into the dramatics. He always did. The caring brother who would do anything for the girl that wasn't even blood related to him. To anyone really.

Commander Hart had taken me in as her own for a while after my mother had been slain, something that she would never mention to me again. She would treat me like her own, despite only being a teenager herself. As the years went on, she started to assume a more prominent position. I understood, knowing that it was time for me to start to fend of myself. She wouldn't have it though. The red head put me under her second in command. Her strongest soldier and his family were quick to accept me, raising me next to Sawyer as if nothing were different. For a while, nothing was.

I didn't look like the other kids, I never did. I had certain aspects that made me a grounder, made me one of them. But as I grew older, I knew that I was nothing more than a child assimilated into a society that was against my heritage. It made me an outcast. Getting slurs thrown at me. I was targeted; I am targeted by the other grounders.

Mamrie offered up a little assistance in defending myself, asserting my dominance in a situation. She was a bit tired of stitching up cuts halfheartedly, not even bothering with numbing it anymore, just tossing me a bottle of alcohol to work my way through.

"Grace, did you see that?" Sawyers voice seeped through my thoughts, pulling me from my little pity party. I shook my head, turning my gaze to where his landed. The sky was a crisp blue, so much so that it almost burned my eyes.

A small metallic flash of color pushed towards my eyes, making itself known for a second before melting back into the sky. I swallowed roughly, clenching my jaw. The object whatever it was, was getting closer, a line of grey smoke forming behind it. From here it looked small, but compared to the trees that it now closely loomed over, it looked huge.

The smell of fuel coated my lungs, fire following soon after. A loud rumble rocked through the forest, shaking the ground with a row of tremors. My stomach lurched, the fear of the unknown driving my newfound nerves.

"Sawyer," I glanced over at him "We have to find Heda."

Her hands rested lightly on the folded out map, green eyes tracing the different lines that were drawn in pitch ink. The cool air was quickly contrasted by the smell of wax, heat coming from the dozens of candles giving her some orange formula of light.

Nikki held her ground next to Mamrie, her hair falling into her eyes, every inch of her body rigid as I pushed past the large man that usually blocked the door. His hands were pressing against my shoulders, trying to hold me back.

"You're not allowed in here, Mutt." He snarled, earning a sharp glare. I hated that name, hated the association with some broken DNA line. I placed my hand on the rubber grip from my blade, the metal slick as it left the holder.

"Try and stop me," I hissed, my gaze hard.

"Gustas," Mamrie's hard voice halted the tattooed man in front of me, his chest heaving up and down. "Stand down. The both of you."

I gave the man a sly smirk, his chest rumbling like a wild animal as I raised a brow, glancing over at the orange haired woman. She kept her eyes on the map, not bothering to look up as I nodded at Nikki, now standing across from her at the only table in the place.

The walls kept a straight terra cotta, candles enhancing the sunset colors of the hidden room. Light shaded Mamrie's features, bringing more color to her forest green eyes.

"Someone must have triggered the line over here," Nikki spoke calmly, dragging her finger tip over one of the land mines that were planted around the mountain.

"It wasn't an explosion," I spoke up, earning a soft look from Mamrie as she finally glanced up, the black paint under her eyes smeared and dripping. "Something fell from the sky."

Nikki scoffed, shaking her head as she glanced back down at the map "How hard did you hit your head out there, Gracie?"

"Wha-"I shook head "I didn't hit anything. Something fell from the sky. Crashed into the south woods. It was big."

Mamrie clenched her jaw, her gaze continuing to rest on mine. It was a look that held a mixture of pity, and curiosity. I had never given the Commander a reason to distrust me. Nikki on the other hand, was raised by my side, training to be the next commander, training to take over if something unfortunate occurred.

"Nikki," Mamrie said sternly "take Sawyer, Grace and Lily to the river. Wait there for a few hours."

"Heda, do you really think-"

"If Grace is right, then they'll need water eventually." Mamrie cut Nikki off, not entertaining the idea much longer as her eyes lingered on the girl across from me before looking back down at the map in silence.  "Go."