Shadow of the Sands

ARENA OF GHOSTS 2/2

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She was shoved into a dark, small room, the door locking got behind her. There was nothing but blackness around her, she hesitated to move.
"Where am I..." she whispered, refusing to risk stumbling into a trap. So she waited, as her heart were racing.
Outside, the Harkonnens eagerly filled the stands around the arena, eager for the show to begin

Two hours dragged on and each minute feeling like an eternity in the pitch-black room. She waited, her nerves on edge as time crept by.
Then, a metallic clang shattered the silence, something was changing. A massive door slowly creaked open, allowing a sliver of light to sneak in. Beyond it lay the Arena, waiting.
She spotted her crysknife on the floor and she reached for it. With a deep breath, she gripped the weapon tightly, ready for whatever awaited her.
As the walls seemed to close in around her, urging her towards the opening, she steeled herself for the challenge ahead. It was time to face her destiny head-on.

She stepped out into the blinding brightness of the Arena, she blinked, her eyes adjusting slowly after two hours in darkness. But what caught her attention was the strange absence of color, everything appearing in stark black and white under the intense sunlight of Giedi Prime.
It was a surreal sight, one she'd only heard of in tales from Arrakis.

As the Harkonnens in the stands above booed at her, seeing her as their enemy, she couldn't help but feel a surge of resistance. But it was when she looked up and locked eyes with Feyd Rautha that things truly became a bit interesting.
There he was, seated beside the Baron on his throne, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine. There was something in his eyes, something she couldn't quite decipher, but it made her pulse quicken nonetheless.

Across the Arena, she met his gaze head-on, her eyes staring at him In that moment, Zurayeh's stare seemed to convey a silent message: she was unbreakable, even to someone as formidable as Feyd Rautha. Her pride as a Fremen burned brightly within her.

Beside the Baron, Feyd Rautha observed Zurayeh intently, his interest piqued by the fierce determination in her eyes. There was a hint of excitement in his gaze as he awaited the arrival of the other fighters. He couldn't help but feel intrigued by Zurayeh, sensing a worthy adversary in her.

She glanced away, noting the two doors opening on either side of the Arena, just as hers had done. But unlike her, the newcomers didn't face the shrinking room; they volunteered to confront a Fremen, to defeat her. The two fighters strode out, their eyes burning with hatred towards Zurayeh. They were Harkonnens too, and they loomed large in the Arena. Could Zurayeh emerge victorious against them?

Feyd Rautha, however, looked interested, his eyes held curiosity. He wondered how the fight would go, but like everyone else, he thought Zurayeh would lose.

One of the approaching fighters wielded a dagger, drawing nearer to Zurayeh. Under her breath, she whispered, "Fi barid as-Sahra, al-intiqam huwa saaya samit, yantadhir birtiqal."

"𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿, 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗸𝗲"

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As he charged towards her, shouting, she swiftly sidestepped his attack, narrowly avoiding the swing of his dagger. With lightning-fast reflexes, he quickly adjusted, pivoting to face her once more.

Just as he prepared to strike again, she held her knife up, meeting his dagger in a blade lock, their weapons pressing against each other with equal force. Locked in this tense standoff, they both strained against each other, each trying to gain the upper hand in the duel.

She slammed her head into his, gaining the upper hand in the duel. Amidst the roaring cheers of the crowd, she blocked out the noise, focusing solely on defeating her opponent.

Feyd Rautha observed her closely, his gaze never wavering. It felt like she was trying to prove something to him, to show him that she was more than just a "Sand rat."

The man staggered backward from the blow, and she seized the opportunity to deliver a swift kick to his stomach, sending him tumbling to the ground. Before the other fighter could react, she swiftly stabbed her crysknife into the throat of the fallen man, then withdrew it in one fluid motion.

As the second opponent charged towards her, she stepped back, poised for the next move.

Feyd Rautha continued to watch her with interest, a hint of admiration flickering in his eyes.

𝙃𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙚𝙧?

Breathing heavily, she braced herself as the other man charged at her. Her mind raced as he closed in, his sword swinging towards her—or so she thought.

But in a quick move, he fooled her, retracting his sword and dropping down to block her crysknife. Then, with surprising force, he slammed his head into hers, like he was settling a score for his fallen ally.

Stunned, she staggered back, reeling from the impact. Before she could regain her bearings, he landed a punch, sending her stumbling further. She watched in a daze as she had her crysknife pointed at him, ready to deliver the final blow.

Amidst the cheers of the crowd, urging for her defeat, a smirk played across her lips. And from above, Feyd Rautha's eyes bore into her, a glint of something unexpected flickering in his gaze.

"Do something," he murmured quietly, his voice barely audible above the din—a hint of intrigue in his tone.

Could it be? Did he want her to succeed?

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Turning her gaze towards him, she spat out a mouthful of blood, her resolve steeling. With a burst of adrenaline, she dodged past her opponent, moving with lightning speed. In one swift motion, she slashed his throat with her crysknife, leaving him choking on his own blood as he fell to the ground. And in that moment, she knew no one had seen her move.