Leodore admired battle - from a sporting perspective at least, controlled violence - much different from war. While there were no winners in war, here the glory to be reached was a clear motivator. And as such, it attracted people from various crowds, the deepest nooks, and crannies of Acoptia.
Leodore stood in the dimly lit chamber of the arena, for the second time today. The prince stared at the rays of light piercing the gate door in front of him. The feeling that had overtaken him at this moment was familiar to him. The nervous sinking feeling, mixed with the excitement of the adrenaline. It sept into him, making it hard to stay still as he waited with anticipation for the door to open - for the start of the duel.
"You've got this... Again," Leo whispered underneath his breath.
The door creaked as it opened and the announcer spoke, "You already know him well! Welcome yet again Leodore Crownstone, the Crown Pince himself! As he looks for his second win of the day!"
Leodore walked with a nervous spring in his step. Treading into the light, he waved to the cheering crowd. All the noise faded into one as he focused on the opposite side of the arena.
"And his opponent, the mysterious warrior, coming off an impressive showing, give it up to Z!"
Leodore took his sword out of its scabbard. Shifting his weight from one foot to another. The feeling took control of him. He had seen the stranger - but that went both ways.
Z walked out, still covered in much too large silver armor. Leodore now knew them to be a girl - at least according to Emerick. He could only guess why she would try to shield her identity. Women warriors weren't uncommon around Acoptia. So that was no reason to go through such a convoluted way to hide that.
Z wobbled her way to the center of the arena. The young prince hopelessly searched to meet her eyes, all in vain as her face was still drowning in the large helmet. The mysterious warrior drew her daggers.
"3, 2, 1... Go!" the announcer bellowed out.
Leodore closed his eyes for a moment, as the steel in his hands got clad in a faint red aura. His opponent seemed to be doing the same, the violet mana covering her weapons. Momentarily they circled each other, warily awaiting whoever chose to lead the dance first. Leo kept his eyes focused on the chest region of his opponent - as it was the first lesson ever thought to him. Letting him see and notice any movement of his foe's body.
As Z circled, she kept shifting stances - seemingly to keep Leodore guessing. Whilst the young prince kept patient, trying to notice any openings, watching her footwork and motion. His adversary once again changed stances, adjusting her feet and hands, one hand leading upfront, while the other was cocked back ready to strike. But this time instead of circling, she struck - with a strong leap Z jabbed her lead dagger forward. Leodore blocked the strike, glancing it off the flat of his blade as he moved his feet to sidestep out of the way. However, the lead strike was just a setup as Z swung her other hand in a wide motion, trying to catch Leodore, his blade out of position and feet unbalanced.
The strike connected.
Blood splashed across Leodore's armor, painting the gold with a crimson coat. The prince stumbled, catching himself from falling, he jumped back making distance between him and his opponent. Keeping a hand on it, Leo stared at his wound. Quite a deep wound on his chest, he had to keep his breathing calm and shove the panic away. The pain had not struck him yet, no his body was full of adrenaline.
Before Leodore could recover, Z once again hastily moved forward. This time the prince chose to meet his foe halfway, shaking his doubts and the creeping panic away, giving in to the thrill. He moved in with a wide blow, Z saw it coming ducking just under it twirling around to strike Leo's exposed back. Just as he anticipated, Leodore moved faster hitting her with the handle of his sword - the cumbersome armor and Z's positioning meant her balance was awful in this situation. She tumbled down to the ground with a thud.
Leodore know this was his chance. He struck with an overhand strike, Z met it with her daggers in a guarding position. However, it was no use as the force of the blow sent her weapons out of her grip. The prince used placed his foot on the chest of Z, holding her down as he pressed his blade to her helm.
"Yield, I do not want to kill you," Leodore offered.
For a moment there was silence, the crowd itself ceasing to make any noise, the world felt still. And then a voice echoed up from inside the helmet, a feminine one, just as expected.
"Sorry, prince, I can't do that," Z answered, a snapping sound accompanying her voice.
Before Leo could react, the armor came loose as the figure slipped out of it, rolling away she grabbed her daggers. The petite woman stood up, reaching up and taking off the helmet, throwing it to the side. Her long brown hair flowed in the air and... furry fox-like ears atop her head. She was a beastfolk. And with that it all made sense - the secrecy, the strange get up. Beastfolk were not allowed to compete in minor tournaments let alone more prestigious ones such as this, so she had used a loop-hole to get in.
The spectators erupted into shocked whispers, some booing loudly. Next came the insults.
"Beast! Your kind is not allowed here!" a man shouted from the crowd.
"This is a disgrace!" someone added on.
Of course, this wasn't the first time in history something like this had happened but it was still quite irregular. Leodore sighed at the crowd's reaction, shaking his head he turned attention to his opponent.
The woman looked around, the hatred thrown at her clearly had affected Z, but she too seemed to clear her head and turn to Leodore.
"I understand now, your decision to hide behind that armor. I am sorry it has to be this way and I apologize for these people. Despite that, I cannot go easy on you." Leodore spoke.
"That is fine, prince. I wouldn't have it any other way, but I can't afford to lose either. If I lose... I can't," Z answered with a weak smile.
In her eyes, Leo could see a fire. Passion and determination were clear in her tone. With one mystery solved, more arose. What was her goal? Leodore nodded curtly, recoiling slightly as the pain finally set in. He had to finish this and likely fast.
Leodore strode forward, slowly at first before breaking into a full sprint. Z let out a war cry and dashed towards the prince. Her speed without the armor was mindboggling, catching Leodore off guard for a second. Realizing that there was no chance he matches her agility Leo halted in his tracks, widening his stance he got ready to defend. Just in time too, as the young woman cleared the distance in the blink of an eye, unleashing a hail of strikes. The prince worked hard to protect himself, blocking and parrying the blows as the sound of clashing metal filled the arena.
The flurry continued as Leodore slowly backed away. Even when fully focused on defending some strikes were getting through. He felt the cuts and stabs - luckily none of them major. Yet. However, the prince knew this was bad, he was getting overwhelmed and injured. He was on a timer.
Leodore closed his eyes, trying to calm his nerves as he planned. Rationality was important in politics and noble courts but at this moment it failed him and such he scoured for something different. Impulse. And then it clicked. An important lesson in a warrior's life is the use of the environment. Leodore looked back for a split second and smiled, an idea already on his mind.
As they approached the wall of the arena, the crowd picked up in noise as they figured the prince cornered. Z moved her body from side to side as she struck again and again. Sparks flew as the blades clashed. Leodore saw his opportunity. Feinting a counterattack, making his foe duck preemptively, using this as a break he needed, Leodore took a risk and jumped back. Abandoning his defense for a second, leaving it up to luck. As he leaped back, his feet searched for the wall behind him. And they found it. With a groan, Leo kicked off the wall, soaring forward through the air.
Clutching his sword he swung it with an overhand strike as he descended onto Z. Seeing there was not enough time to dodge, Z lifted her daggers to brace herself for the blow. The impact sent a shockwave through the arena, a loud and sudden boom temporarily deafening the prince. Despite her best efforts, the woman's posture broke, Leodore's blade digging deep into her shoulder.
Leo saw as she realized it, her eyes widening in shock for a second before she dropped to one knee. Blood hastily coursed out of her wound. Z looked up, the shock in her eyes replaced by something else - fear and sorrow.
"I-I can't lose... If I fail, my people will all die. I have to prevail," she groaned out, trying in vain to get up.
Leodore drew his sword out of her shoulder and spoke, "It's over, your wound is far too grave to continue."
Despite that, the woman stumbled to her feet. Hunched over and breathing wildly, she staggered toward him.
"I have to...win," she managed to spit out, her voice frail and shaking.
A blood trail followed her as she took a labored step, reaching the prince. He lowered his blade, with pleading eyes he took a step back.
"I don't want to do you any more damage, miss," Leodore pled.
She pursued him still. With a week shout full of mixed emotions she skipped the space between them, swinging a hectic punch at him. The punch landed square on Leodores chin, snapping his head back. But he did not move back, remaining standing. The woman stood for a moment before falling face first.
Catching her in his arms, Leodore looked to the announcer. Shooting him a solemn glare, hoping he gets the memo.
"Th-the fight is over! Give it up for your winner, Leodore Crownstone!" the announcer wailed out, understanding the alert.
The crowd cheered and rejoiced, no doubt happy to see the prince of the kingdom beat what they assumed to be an intruder of the event, unworthy of being here - all because of her race.
Leodore, on the other hand, felt no joy. He grasped Z in his hands, trying not to move too much. She was far too hurt and moving her now could be dangerous, so he just stood there. Then he heard a whimper and soft sobs, she was crying.
"I-I failed... This means that all was futile, my people they were counting on me," the woman whispered.
Leodore looked down, trying his best to comfort who just moments ago was his foe, "Don't despair. You fought valiantly."
"All for nothing. I told my people I could get us help, that I would get an audience to listen to our plea if I just won this tournament... and yet."
Leodore listened to her silent whisper, her voice breaking at moments as she cried. A realization setting in - she had done all this for her people, but why?
"What plea? You might not have won, but I will listen to your request." Leodore offered.
"Our home, it's been suffering from constant attacks from a bandit group. The village is barely holding on, every attack, they take more and more from us..." she explained, tears rushing from her eyes.
Leodore knew there was a bandit problem in the kingdom, but this seemed different. More targeted, as if they were looking to destroy instead of just loot, perplexed the prince nodded.
"I will see that your village is aided. Now we need to get you healed," he answered, turning his head away from her, he shouted, "Get her the healers, now!"
Seconds passed, then a minute. Two. None came.
Leodore looked around the arena, rage slowly filling his mind.
"What is the meaning of this? I said medical attention, now!" he bellowed out.
There was a silence in the stands, an uncomfortable one. Leo diverted his concentration to his father. Who now stood from his chair, looking down at Leodore and Z.
"As the King, I cannot allow transgressions such as this go unpunished. She dared to defile the sanctity of this contest, the crown's laws, our custom! As such, she won't be permitted medical attention of the throne!" Arnald addressed.
Leodore felt a chill go down his spine as blood boiled. He was furious. At this moment he saw red, losing all awareness of the spectators around him, the tourney. Nothing mattered to Leo, but this.
"How dare you! This woman did all this for her people! Her home! They need help and fast, she is a hero for risking it all just so they can be heard!" Leodore roared.
"Escort her out of the arena, I won't have beast here any longer," the king spoke, disregarding the prince.
The Crownguard surrounding the king descended the stairs, hopping over the barrier down to the arena floor. Leodore positioned himself in front of Z, holding his sword out.
"I will not allow you to take her! I order you to back away as the Crown Prince!" Leodore spat out.
They persisted toward them, shunning Leodore. With a yell, the prince sprang onward. His intent - protect at all costs. But as his feet made contact with the ground, Leo's vision clouded, legs giving out. He dropped to his knees, Leodore had utterly forgotten his own wounds.
The Crownguard passed him, not even bothering to look his way. Leodore punched the ground in frustration as he watched them approach Z. He had been too weak to protect her, just like was too weak to protect Jacques. Another failure. How could he be the leader, a future king if he can't protect a single person? Tears filled his eyes, anguish heavy on his heart.
He watched as the span between Z and the guards closed step after step. This was it, and all he could was observe.
Just a single step left.
Leodore drew his breath, tears rolling down his cheeks. Failure.
And then a sudden flash of light blinded him.
Leodore blinked and gaped where now stood Berteram Singlestrike, accompanied by a heavy crushing pressure filling the arena, Berterams aura. The old man's face betrayed pure fury, he stood in front of the injured woman. His brilliant sword in his hand. A single line was slashed in the ground, just at the feet of the Crownguard.
"I dare you. Step over this line and I shall show you no mercy." Berterams voice was full of malice, ice cold.
And faced with Berteram Singlestrike, Leodore saw the Crownguard knees buckle. Faced with the legendary warrior, even the elite of the elite knights felt pure fear. They stumbled back, thoroughly lost.
Berteram raised a finger, pointing at the King, and through gritted teeth, he addressed him, "Arnald, you are a disgrace! Your father, your wife - they all would be horrified to see who you have become. You are no leader."
With that Singlestrike turned around, grasping the injured Z and lifting her up. Berteram looked back to Leo, their eyes meeting, he offered him a brief smile and a reassuring nod. Carrying the beastwoman out of the arena, no one dared to interrupt him.
Leo closed his eyes. The world faded away, his consciousness escaping him.