Shifting Tides

The cold air bites into my skin, carrying the stench of stale beer, damp sand, and dried blood. Across the open drop, suspended twenty feet above the pit floor, Seryna shifts her weight. A breath leaves my lungs as she sits upright against the iron framework of her cage.

For days, the guards pushed tainted rations into our cells, trying to drain our strength before the main event. Their stupidit