Chapter 11: Conflict with a Rival
The tournament had barely ended, and the streets of the capital were still buzzing with the excitement of the day's battles. Riven, his mind still caught in the whirlwind of his defeat, made his way through the crowded thoroughfare toward the quieter part of the city. The sounds of the bustling crowds, the haggling merchants, and the distant clamor of celebrations filled the air, but Riven barely noticed. His thoughts were preoccupied with the events that had just unfolded.
He had fought hard in the tournament, and though he hadn't won, he had learned valuable lessons, especially in terms of strategy. But it wasn't enough to silence the nagging feeling in his chest—the feeling that he wasn't good enough, that no matter how hard he tried, there would always be someone stronger.
"Hey, you!" a voice suddenly called out, harsh and mocking. Riven froze in his tracks, turning to face the source of the interruption.
The voice belonged to a tall, broad-shouldered young man, his expression twisted into a sneer. Behind him stood two other figures, both of whom looked equally unimpressed. They wore the colors of a noble family that Riven recognized—one of the wealthier clans that often participated in the tournaments.
"Yeah, you. The loser from the tournament," the young man continued, his tone dripping with condescension. "I saw your match. Pathetic. You didn't even stand a chance."
Riven felt a flash of heat rise in his cheeks, the sting of the insult cutting deeper than he'd like to admit. He was no stranger to ridicule, but something about the arrogance in the man's voice made his blood boil.
"I did my best," Riven said, trying to keep his voice calm, but his fists were already clenched at his sides. "What's it to you?"
The man laughed, a low, mocking sound. "Oh, I just find it amusing when someone who clearly doesn't belong tries to play with the big boys. You're nothing. A nobody." He glanced at his companions, who snickered in unison. "You think you've got what it takes to be a tamer? To compete with the likes of me?"
Riven's heart raced, the anger building inside him. The man's words cut deeper than any blade, striking at his insecurities. He wanted to walk away, to keep his dignity intact, but something inside him snapped. The taunt, the sneer, the judgment—it all felt too much. He couldn't let this person walk away thinking he was weak.
"What do you want?" Riven asked through gritted teeth, his hands trembling with the desire to fight back.
The man's smile grew wider. "I want to see if you're as pathetic in a real fight as you are in the tournament. A private duel. Just you and me. No rules."
The challenge hung in the air, an unspoken dare. Riven hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. He knew he wasn't ready. He'd just fought in the tournament and had barely made it out unscathed. But something inside him urged him to take the challenge—to prove to himself that he wasn't the weakling this man thought he was.
"I'll take you on," Riven said, his voice steely, though a tinge of uncertainty remained.
The young man laughed again, clearly pleased by Riven's response. "Good. Meet me in the training yard at sunset. We'll see if you can back up that bravado."
With that, the man turned and walked away, his companions following closely behind, their laughter fading into the distance. Riven stood there for a moment, the weight of the challenge pressing down on him. He had no illusions about the outcome. This wasn't going to be an easy fight. The man was stronger, more experienced, and his beast was likely far superior to Riven's own.
Riven's gaze fell to the ground, his mind filled with doubt. He could feel the weight of his insecurities crushing him, the fear of failure gnawing at his confidence. What if he lost? What if this man was right, and he wasn't cut out for this life?
"Don't back down now," a familiar voice said, pulling Riven from his thoughts.
Riven turned to see Eryk standing a few paces away, his eyes sharp and knowing. "What's going on?" the older man asked, his tone calm but filled with concern.
"I've been challenged to a duel," Riven replied, his voice barely a whisper. "By someone from one of the noble families. I don't think I stand a chance."
Eryk considered him for a moment, his gaze steady and unflinching. "So, you're going to back down?"
"No," Riven said quickly, his voice more resolute now. "I'm not backing down. But I don't know if I can win."
"You won't win by trying to outpower him," Eryk said, his voice measured. "You don't have the experience or the strength he has. But you have something he doesn't. Something that could make all the difference."
Riven looked at Eryk, confused. "What do you mean?"
Eryk smiled faintly. "You've got something unique, Riven. You haven't quite figured it out yet, but you've got a style all your own. Don't try to fight like him. Fight like you."
Riven frowned, trying to understand. "My own style? But what if that's not enough? What if it's not enough to win?"
"It's not about winning," Eryk replied, his voice soft but firm. "It's about proving to yourself that you're not just a victim of your circumstances. You're a tamer, Riven. You have power, but more importantly, you've got the will to stand up when it matters. That's what will make you strong."
Riven stood there in silence for a moment, letting Eryk's words sink in. He wasn't sure if he truly understood what the older man meant, but something about it felt right. Maybe it wasn't about fighting like everyone else. Maybe it was about embracing who he was, flaws and all.
"I'll figure it out," Riven said, his voice more certain now. "I won't let him get the better of me."
Later that evening, Riven made his way to the training yard, his heart pounding in his chest. The setting sun cast a golden glow over the landscape, and the air was thick with tension. The rival was already waiting, standing tall and confident with his beast by his side—a massive, muscular creature with glowing red eyes and jagged scales. It was the kind of beast that made Riven's own creature seem like a mere shadow in comparison.
Riven took a deep breath, his hands steadying as he summoned his wolf. The creature appeared beside him with a low growl, its blue eyes steady and calm. Riven didn't speak a word; he simply focused on the bond they shared, the connection that had only grown stronger since their first meeting.
The duel began almost immediately, the rival's beast charging forward with a fearsome roar. Riven's wolf leaped to the side, narrowly dodging the initial attack. His mind raced as he formulated a plan, relying on his instincts rather than brute force.
The rival's beast struck again, its claws slashing through the air with terrifying speed. But Riven was ready this time. With a sharp command, he directed his wolf to move in closer, using the terrain to his advantage. The rival's creature was slow to turn, and Riven seized the opportunity to strike at its exposed flank. His wolf's claws raked across the beast's scales, leaving a shallow but painful wound.
The rival snarled, clearly frustrated. He hadn't expected Riven to fight back so effectively.
But as the battle wore on, it became clear that Riven's strategy, though clever, wasn't enough to overcome the sheer strength and size of the rival's beast. The opponent's creature powered through Riven's defenses, landing a solid blow that sent Riven's wolf skidding across the dirt.
The fight ended quickly after that, with the rival's beast standing victorious. Riven's wolf, though still standing, was battered and weary. But despite the defeat, Riven didn't feel the crushing despair he had expected. Instead, he felt a flicker of understanding, a spark of realization that this battle wasn't the end. It was only the beginning.
As the rival approached, his expression softened slightly. "You've got guts, I'll give you that," he said, his tone more respectful now. "But you've got a long way to go."
Riven nodded, his breath heavy but steady. "I'll get there. I'll be back."
End of Chapter 11.