Champion — Vladimir Duran

A Rising Knight: Vol2, Iss2
In the wake of Vlad's decision last issue its time to shift focus to the other side of the story. How do the other Knights live knowing that they are under a death sentence? What kind of choices do they have to make to create anything good in their lives? And what does it mean to call yourself a Champion among wizards?

Excerpt

A man in military black jumped through her window and rolled across the floor. He ended his entrance by standing before her oldest trophy case with a flourish and a bow. The absurdity confused Tora Pikehedge for a moment. But only for a moment. She'd been tense all day. Now that something was finally happening, the tension drained from of her. At last there was something to do.

The man said something but she didn't pick it up, she was moving. Bare legs flashed as she rolled out of bed and onto her feet. A sheet of numbers went flying into the air. She reached toward the Reigh to burn this stranger out of existence. And found nothing. A wall like the side of a fortress hid away her native power. The bastard had shielded her as he rolled. The flourish and bow had been distractions.

Fine. Tora Pikehedge, Champion of the Royal Games1, was a Knight. She had other weapons. Without looking, she reached out behind her and flung her Champion's trophy straight at the man's head. Her own body followed. If this was it, if the Hunters had finally found her, so be it. They couldn't take away what she'd won. But she could take some of them with her.

Before the golden statuette got close there was a single, sharp flick of the Reigh. The trophy split neatly in two, clattering on the floor. Tora did no better than her missile. Using every ounce of skill she had, Tora twisted to avoid the bonds of air he manipulated around her. Pointless. They locked into place almost immediately, like he knew where her limbs would be before she did.