Eve hadn't managed to calm down in the slightest. The upcoming fight added additional pressure on her.
She sighed audibly.
One might think that the previous fight with Slackjaw was a pretty close one. But in reality, it's only part of the truth. If she actually fought with her normal strength, Slackjaw would've been dead much sooner. She doesn't know anything about her opponent, but from the words of the guard, she might actually be in danger.
Her hands find her hair, and they begin to tug on the strands.
What did I get myself into? If I had listened to mother...
She lets go of her hair and begins to pace the dirty cell.
She stops in front of the broken mirror, and she remembers the way her fist broke it. She could try to repair it, but what's the point? When something is broken beyond repair, what's the point of fixing it?
Eve begins to pluck the bigger pieces of what remains of the mirror. After a bit, she lays all of them on the ground and begins to match them like a puzzle. Once she is done, she looks at her reflection.
Then CRACK
Her boot crashes against the pieces of the mirror.
"I will die, I don't want to die." Her voice sounds weak and scared.
"No, I will kill all of them, with or without Elyon's help." Her voice comes out harsh and cold.
"Who cares about that? I only want to eat something and fill my pockets with money." She starts to cackle with a hint of greed.
"..." Then she doesn't say anything.
"Who are you, really, Eve? Are you a byproduct of your past, maybe someone who wants more from his present? Or someone scared for their future." Her voice doesn't carry any bit of emotion.
She doesn't respond for a while.
"Maybe it's too early for me to answer, because right now, I don't know who I am."
Eve lifts her foot, then bends down, she picks up all of the shards, and inspects them for a bit. Then she walks over to the window and throws them through the metal bars, watching as they scatter in the wind.
She sits back on the bed made of straw and waits for the guards to demand her wrist.
After a while, multiple footsteps are heard through the corridors. A group of men stops in front of her cell.
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Before the guard with the spear can tell her to put her wrists through the bars, the youngest of the guards unlocks her cell, and the other guards turn towards the sound.
"Agenor, what are you doing?-" But before they can realise what the trainee was up to, he slips into her cell
"Wrists!" The young Agenor exclaims.
Eve and the guards look a bit taken aback, the latter being much more.
She rises from the bed and presents her wrists.
The young Agenor happily cuffs her, and the other guards storm into the cell to berate him and to possibly teach him a physical lesson. Agenor, in his defence, states that he wanted to show them that he wasn't fearful and that he was a man.
Eve silently listened to the guards talk, then her gaze fell back on Agenor.
"Being fearful is what keeps us alive."
The guards stop berating him, and all of them turn towards her, but before they can realise who Eve was addressing, Agenor opens his mouth again.
"Pride is what keeps me alive! Pride for the people around me, pride for my job. And pride for myself," he shouts in protest.
Pride...I used to be like him...And I think I already am. But at this point, it doesn't matter.
"Then tell me, Agenor, if I ripped out your throat and you choked on your blood right in this dirty cell. How prideful would you consider yourself then?"
I don't have any intention of hurting this kid, but he needs to learn a lesson in one way or another.
The guards stop berating Agenor and just turn to her, then back to him.
"Very prideful, I did it to prove to my new colleagues that I am a man already. I will also go down as a man."
One of the older guards audibly sighs.
"You don't need to risk your life over such foolish things, kid. Stay alive for us, will you?"
Even though the message wasn't addressed to her, it gave her a bit of hope.
Agenor nods and backs off, and the other guards escort Eve out. But this time it feels different; they are a bit gentler. Possibly because she didn't hurt the new kid.
Walking the halls, this time it feels different. It feels like she is walking to her execution.
They approach a massive gate, the guards open it and unbind her.
"Good luck out there, Eve," the older guard tells her, behind him, Agenor nodding in agreement.
Then the gate closes behind her, and so does the other entrance across from her.
A beautiful woman stood across from her, her bronze skin a contrast to her striking purple eyes. Her hair is long and black as the night. She wears nothing more than a robe with a hole at her chest. At her feet lay three swords. The woman picks up all three of her swords, holding two of them in her right hand.
Eve bends down as well and picks up Nightfall.
"Everyone, the most anticipated fight of the whole night. A battle of cats, or should we say, monsters? There's no need for introductions; let the fight begin." The announcer shouts excitedly to the crowd.
Eve and the woman start walking slowly until there are only a few feet between them.
"Fragmenta speculi fracti animae tuae adhaerent. In pulverem ea convertam." The woman chuckles as she speaks.
"Speak normally, wench," Eve points Nightfall in her direction.
"My my, what a foul mouth you have, missy. But that is alright..."
The woman's voice turns to a whisper.
"I don't have a name, the only thing I can call myself is...The defilement of yesterday."
"I don't care about your stupid nickname." Eve's voice turns into a shout.
The defilement drops her swords and grips the edges of the hole in her.
"But you do have to care, after all, I only tell my name to the people I will kill."
The skin between her breasts suddenly starts to tear. A pale index finger exits from the cut, then the middle finger. After a bit, a pale hand exits the wound, then the wrist and then the forearm.
She has another person inside of her.
After Eve thought that, the fight began.
