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Description
Syda turned to Noellia. "Are you ready?", she asked with a wicked smile, "The Spartans will taste steel. But if one is very lucky, he may yet live out this day." Noellia felt confident and afraid. A queer mix. She had trained endlessly on the various fighting skills. Learning how to dodge, parry and thrust with her spear and sword. How to shoot with her bow. How to dominate the battlefield. But it had all been against straw filled dummies or her sisters with blunted weapons. This time it was real. This time she would win glory or shame. This hour might be her last. She feared not death. Just dishonor. It was time to put away such thoughts. Quiet the mind. Let her body take over. Do the death dance she had been taught. Noellia turned back to Syda with a single quiet and firm word, "Yes".

Description
Syda turned to Noellia. "Are you ready?", she asked with a wicked smile, "The Spartans will taste steel. But if one is very lucky, he may yet live out this day." Noellia felt confident and afraid. A queer mix. She had trained endlessly on the various fighting skills. Learning how to dodge, parry and thrust with her spear and sword. How to shoot with her bow. How to dominate the battlefield. But it had all been against straw filled dummies or her sisters with blunted weapons. This time it was real. This time she would win glory or shame. This hour might be her last. She feared not death. Just dishonor. It was time to put away such thoughts. Quiet the mind. Let her body take over. Do the death dance she had been taught. Noellia turned back to Syda with a single quiet and firm word, "Yes".