The day of the final duel arrived. The sun was at its highest and beaming down. The arena was packed with people from all corners of the kingdom, the King occupied prime position in the grandstand. My opponent and I assumed our poses at opposite ends of the stadium, dressed in steel armour, wielding one double-edged sword each. The screams from the crowd faded into the background as I waited for the signal to begin. The sound of my breathing was all I could hear. The bell rang, we charged towards each other, fury powering our strides.
Our swords clanged and seemingly fused together with neither of us giving way. A kick to my leg and I retreated. Suddenly, the weapon came flying towards my face. I dropped down, averting the attack. I followed up with a swipe of my sword to the arm. Their armour absorbed my blade. The battle ensued for much longer than previous ones. Every attempt of mine was blocked with a counter-step, every manoeuvre was negated by swift moves in retaliation.
The opponent was well trained, they found every weakness in my armour, allowing blood to gush out of me. With each fresh cut, the crowd erupted into flurries of triumphant cheers. The King watched on with mirth, lounging between a bowl of grapes on one side, and a golden goblet of wine on the other.
The hot metal burned against my skin. Waves of anguish reverberated through my body. But, each slash from the rival blade was a profound testament of the sacrifice for Finn. And I used it as a reminder to give myself strength. Finn! Oh, how I missed his smile, his messy black hair and the bronze freckles on his nose that the sun's rays seemed to burnish brighter.
A mighty swing of the opponent's sword flew by my face again. Once more I stooped down to duck the assault but this time, I spotted an opening – the opponent's ankle was exposed. With one swipe I sliced it open. Struggling to walk for a few paces, the opponent fell to the ground. Staggering up on my feet, I approached the fallen soldier. My mind still waged a war on how I would end it. Would I be able to?
My shadow eclipsed the opponent as I raised my sword up. However, bringing it down was not as easy. I could hear the crowd and my parents yelling 'Death! Death! Death!' I thought of Finn and of the life we could have together, how it only required the sacrifice of one pitiable victim who lay in front of me. After all, the opponent chose to be here of their own accord, placing their life on the line for glory. With my sword posed high in between quivering palms, I closed my eyes and paused.
"No…" And that one pause was all it took for me to realise I wouldn't be able to go through with it.
Suddenly, the opponent jolted up and plunged their blade right above my knee, piercing my armour. I screamed with all my might and fell. But, falling on my knees only intensified the agony as the sword lodged deeper into my thigh. I was panting like an animal, struggling to withhold the pain. Garnering every ounce of spare strength from the core of my being, I finally thrust my sword into the opponent's chest just before collapsing on the ground in pain. The crowd erupted into an uproarious cheer at how delightfully brutal the battle of strength and skill had gotten.
I lay on a bloody patch of sand, my chest heaving from exhaustion, when I heard the opponent next to me gasping for breath and coughing. Torn in ten different directions by empathy, I pulled back the opponent's helmet for a glimpse of the first person I ever attempted to kill. Underneath the streaks of blood, were the freckles I had always loved. Laced with pools of sweat was the black hair I used to lose my fingers in. A massive lump curled up in my throat, my insides twisting into excruciating knots. Finn! Wading through fits of angst, I yanked off my helmet, my eyes seeking his. Violently ripping my chain mail gloves off, I touched his face so I could feel his skin against mine. With tears bursting froth from my lashes, I pulled him close, allowing our cheeks to become one.
I cried to him. "What were you doing here? Why have you picked up a sword? Why were you fighting?"
"I…. I…" he struggled to speak, his lungs drowning in his own blood. Every cough was a sign of the moments he had remaining. "I… am here for you… your family said they would approve… of me… if I could win the Battle. Your," he spluttered, "your sister, Ceri, trained me..."
His eyelids stopped fluttering, life steadily seeping out of his pupils. I screamed out for him, Finn! I let out a blood-curdling scream. Everything I had gone through – the pain and struggle, the fighting and training, spiralled into a burning ball of rage within. Letting my dead lover go, I pulled the sword out of my thigh and threw it to the side. I grabbed my sword and stood up. I could see my family running towards me, cheering and smiling. They were to blame for all of this. They had not changed. They were incapable of seeing me for who I was. As they drew nearer, I lost all sense of sanity and humanity. In a frenzy, I cut Father's head off. The hot blade made it easy. Mother screamed, but not for long as her stomach was impaled by the same blade that ended Father.
Aghast by the sight of our dismembered parents, Ceri yelled in grief, exposing her vulnerability. Her whole life she only ever cared about our parents and they were now gone. She had herself to blame. She played along with it. She trained me and made me capable of completing such a heinous yet deserving act. She ran over to Finn's sword, picked it up and stormed across to me.
Watching the ghostly shadow of my sister loom nearer, I did nothing in retaliation. I had nothing left to live for. Ceri was always better than me, there was no way I could ever live to see her demise. I dropped to my knees and awaited my death.
Ceri pushed the bloody end of the sword right up against my neck but held back from finishing the deed, glaring deep into my eyes. I closed them for a moment, forcing her to ignore my humanity. I thought back on how this all began.
_
My eyes opened slowly, wondering when Ceri would finish me off. I stared deep her into her eyes. I could see tears forming, the whites of her eyes were drowning in red.
"You haven't changed," she said. "You're still a failure and a disappointment, you deserve a punishment worse than death," she spat in my face.
But just as she was about to spew another curse, a piercing ache snapped her sentence in half.
Ceri glanced down.
I had rammed the tip of my weapon into her heart.
She was foolish enough to come out here with no armour. Ceri began coughing up blood, studying my eyes with alarm. And as the strength from her body began to dissolve, she thrust her sword into my neck. Ceri fell on me and just as we were brought into this world together, we fell down to the ground to leave this world together.
With life draining out of me I could barely hear the crowd. The sight of my burgeoning bloodspill seemed to prompt them into louder spells of applause and cheers. As I glanced up, I discerned the faint outline of the King's grin while he plucked at a grape skin lodged between his teeth. He stretched his arms, stood up, and clapped.
He spoke the last words I'd ever hear. "Good show, I look forward to next year's Battle."