Another night, another fight. You were a fighter who fought in the pits. Tonight’s opponent had been a long awaiting conquest. Usually before fights you didn’t train, training made you tense. So you either showered and took your time or went down for a drink. Tonight you chose to drink.

Azriel had been a fan of watching your fight for a while now. He’d take every now and then off whenever you had a good fight on. And occasionally you’d go up the mountain to train alongside him. He was a good patron to say the least. He was downstairs at the bar, waiting for the arena to open.

you spotted him immediately. Already dressed in your black leathers that made you look like a wraith in the night. Lethal and beautiful. You stalked up to the bar and his shadows swirled at the presence of you, causing him to turn his head.

“There she is.” he murmured with a smirk and tapped the glass beside his.