Sparring Ring Or Infirmary Novels & Stories

Aria’s POV).... The training yard looked bigger when you weren’t just watching from the sidelines. The ring of packed dirt stretched wide, wooden posts marking the sparring space, and practice weapons lined neatly against the fence. Warriors moved in pairs across the yard, sparring, running drills, or just beating the life out of straw dummies. The thud of fists and clash of wooden blades filled the air like a battle song. And in the middle of it all—my brother, Elias.

Minding my business I climb into the ring, jumping on feet and roll my shoulders trying to warm up. "Camden, spar with Pinky for a bit on the mats." Thomas instructs. Pinky is the one that drew the short straw in assisting my vigorous sparing sessions. He wears the full body shield, and lets me punch him around daily. He does a lot of sparring around the gym, and everyone loves him. Pinky waddles into the ring with gear head to toe. He gives me a nod, and I start laying combos into him. Staying light on my feet I try to outsmart him, and hit him before he can think about blocking.

I add. He glances over. “Even at that. But that’s not a worry of ours, we’re far from human lands. Plus, there’s been an ongoing peace treaty for decades.” “Hm.” My jaw drops as we take the last step into the large space. There’s a makeshift sparring ring at one corner, gym equipments take up the center of the room. And a small glass room with rows of knives, and targets. “Wow,” Kael gasps eyes wide. He squirms in Cassian’s arms to be put down.

The auditorium was completely cleared out. The security tape was used to make a perimeter of about a hundred square feet for each participant to fight in. A lot of blunt weapons were set on the side of the ring. From halberds to daggers, every single possible weapon could be seen there. Harvey York calmly walked toward the thirty-ninth ring. He squinted at the surveillance camera on top of him before looking at Kori on the forty-first ring. Then, he rested his hand on the ready button beside him.

"I'll be back later." "That's what every obsessed mate says." Ignoring her laughter, I slipped out before she could continue. The southern training grounds weren't far from the Packhouse. The closer I got, the louder the sounds became, the clashing weapons, shouted commands, the sharp crack of practice staff colliding. By the time I reached the perimeter fence, dozens of warriors were gathered around the main sparring ring. My pulse immediately quickened. Damon stood inside the ring and even from a distance he was impossible to miss. His black training shirt stretched across broad shoulders, sleeves rolled to his elbows while he barked instructions to the warriors surrounding him. Beside him

They hauled me out into the dark, freezing hallway before I could even brush my hair. The bitter morning air bit deep into my exposed skin. Escorting me roughly across the damp courtyard, the guards shoved me through the tall chain-link gates of the lower training facility. Harsh floodlights illuminated a massive ring of packed dirt and loose sand. Several heavily muscled Gamma wolves were already there, stretching their thick limbs and cracking their knuckles. The smell of wet earth and aggressive testosterone was suffocating. Standing dead center in the dirt ring was Todd. He held a thick wooden sparring staff, tapping it rhythmically against his thigh.

“And sparring accidents happen all the time. There’s always someone who dislocates or breaks something, so no matter when they came in, we’d have medical needs. We could even rotate and have students coming in every week. We’d have to figure out the limit, we wouldn’t want too many at once because then they wouldn’t get the hand’s on training they need, but…that’s a fantastic idea.” We looked at the hospital layout and realized that the side of the building where both Piper and I were attacked is unused, even during wartime.

“You can’t slap me! Who the hell do you think you are?” I smirked, wiping sweat from my forehead. “Huh. I guess I’m not that weak, am I? Looks like I got my hand in your ugly face. And it’s only day one. Watch me wipe the floor with you.” “Enough!” Gamma Brandon’s voice boomed across the arena. I turned, still panting. “We do not slap during sparring,” he said sharply. “You’re supposed to use the skills we taught you. Aurelia, you will stay after training for twenty more laps.”

Her eyes were the color of polished iron—calm, unblinking, and impossible to misread. She was watching me. The introductions passed in a blur. Jaric made a joke about the bus’s air-conditioning that earned him a laugh from one of the Alba students. I bowed where I should have bowed, shook hands when prompted. Then the coaches began murmuring logistics: two sparring rings, alternating rounds, first-to-five points, standard rules. Dr. Harry clapped me on the back. “You’re up for the headline spar, Max. Alba’s putting in their best. Don’t disappoint the hometown crowd.”

This was one recruit that I would keep my eye on because he had promise. “What is the protocol for sparring?” I asked a girl in the front of the second line. Her eyes turned toward me as she batted her eyelashes. Oh, she was going to be one of those people. Good to know. I loved making examples out of people like this. Most of the time they begged to be taken off my roster but never approved. I was one of the toughest trainers we had, and she would learn that quickly. “We are to spar in pairs. The only rule is to not go for a kill shot. Anything else is acceptable, sir,” she said with an emphasis on the last word.