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 was only part of the truth. If she had actually fought with her normal strength, Slackjaw would've been dead much sooner. She didn't know anything about her opponent, but from the words of the guard, she might actually be in danger.
Her hands found her hair, and they began to tug on the strands.
What did I get myself into? If I had listened to mother...
She let go of her hair and began to pace the dirty cell.
She stopped in front of the broken mirror, and she remembered the way her fist had broken 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 began to pluck the bigger pieces of what remained of the mirror. After a bit, she laid all of them on the ground and began to match them like a puzzle. Once she was done, she looked at her reflection.
Then, CRACK.
Her boot crashed against the pieces of the mirror.
"I will die. I don't want to die." Her voice sounded weak and scared.
"No, I will kill all of them, with or without Elyon's help." Her voice came out harsh and cold.
"Who cares about that? I only want to eat something and fill my pockets with money." She started to cackle with a hint of greed.
"..."
Then, she didn't say anything.
"Who are you, really, Eve? Are you a byproduct of your past, maybe someone who wants more from her present? Or someone scared for their future." Her voice didn't carry any bit of emotion.
She didn'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 lifted her foot, then bent down. She picked up all of the shards and inspected them for a bit. Then, she walked over to the window and threw them through the metal bars, watching as they scattered in the wind.
She sat back on the bed made of straw and waited for the guards to demand her wrists.
After a while, multiple footsteps were heard through the corridors. A group of men stopped in front of her cell.
Before the guard with the halberd could tell her to put her wrists through the bars, the youngest of the guards unlocked her cell, and the other guards turned toward the sound.
"Agenor, what are you doin-"
But before they could realize what the trainee was up to, he slipped into her cell.
"Wrists!" the young Agenor exclaimed.
Eve and the guards looked a bit taken aback, the latter being much more so.
She rose from the bed and presented her wrists.
The young Agenor happily cuffed her, and the other guards stormed into the cell to berate him and to possibly teach him a physical lesson. Agenor, in his defense, stated 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 stopped berating him, and all of them turned toward her. But before they could realize who Eve was addressing, Agenor opened his mouth again.
"Pride is what keeps me alive! Pride for the people around me, pride for my job. And pride for myself!" he shouted in protest.
Pride... I used to be like him... And I think I still 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 stopped berating Agenor and just turned 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 sighed. "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 nodded and backed off, and the other guards escorted Eve out. But this time it felt different; they were a bit gentler. Possibly because she didn't hurt the new kid.
Walking the halls, this time it felt different. It felt like she was walking to her execution.
They approached a massive gate. The guards opened it and unbound her.
"Good luck out there, Eve," the older guard told her, behind him, Agenor nodding in agreement.
Then the gate closed behind her, and so did 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 was long and black as the night. She wore nothing more than a robe that had a hole in her chest. At her feet lay three swords. The woman picked up all three of her swords, holding two of them in her right hand.
Eve bent down as well and picked 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 shouted excitedly to the crowd.
Eve and the woman started walking slowly until there were only a few feet between them.
"Fragmenta speculi fracti animae tuae adhaerent. In pulverem ea convertam," the woman chuckled as she spoke.
"Speak normally, wench," Eve pointed Nightfall in her direction.
"My, my, what a foul mouth you have, missy. But that is alright..." The woman's voice turned 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 turned into a shout.
The defilement dropped her swords and she gripped the edges of the hole in her robe. "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 started to tear.
A pale index finger emerged from the cut, then the middle finger. After a bit, a pale hand exited the wound, then the wrist, and then the forearm.
She had another person inside of her.
After Eve thought that, the fight began.