Liora
Kara found a loose stitch in the grip wrap while Liora was looking at the prize table.
"Turn around."
"I am turned around."
"Your hand. Not the rest of you."
Liora held the sword where Kara could inspect it.
The exhibition court occupied the open side of the forge hall. Temporary seats faced a series of marked stations, and the sponsoring guild had hung its crest high enough to appear behind every selected fighter.
A narrow side table held the award descriptions.
Liora had read the first line from three paces away.
Personal access to the upper forge.
She wanted to read the rest.
The words were large enough to see without approaching the table. Smaller lines continued beneath them, partly hidden by the hand of an entrant filling in a sheet.
Kara turned the hilt slightly.
"Hold still."
Liora brought her eyes back to the loose stitch. Winning would require using the blade in her hand before she learned anything about the forge she wanted to enter.
