He always hated hot weather. He had a cave he went to on hot days. It was like his home because the air was always cool, and there was no better place for him to go. Plus, he had everything he needed in the cave: cool air, some privacy, plenty of cold water, and a few odds and ends... He could do anything to be there right now. For a moment, he wondered how his hidden food was doing; he wanted some honey, but a heavy blow he took made him fall and lose his focus. For a moment, he forgot where he was. With eyes free from the effects of the blow, he searched for the person who had sent him back to this disgusting mud and blood puddle. They stood a few steps away, fixing their tousled hair. He quickly got up; the dirt on him was drying under the hot sun, making his movements difficult. The person in front of him started talking in a mocking tone, "Tired, Ezra? Giving up?" Oh, he really wanted to give up. He wanted to give up more than anything. He wanted to give up and take a nice bath. He never wanted this meaningless duel! Still, he couldn't say these thoughts out loud; he just smiled and said, "Tired? Me tired? Stop kidding! Arden, my dear friend. Don't waste your breath on me; what will you do when you need it later?"

Their duel, which had started with the first light of the morning, seemed to never end. Both sides attacked each other with all their might, trying to assert their dominance. It was almost noon, and by now, the duel should have ended, and celebrations should have been held... Or at least one of them would celebrate.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Ezra looked at the sword in his hand. Well, it couldn't even be called a sword anymore. Even its handle had started to break. They had broken so many weapons that there was nothing left for them to use. He glanced at the trash in his hand one last time and threw it at the person smiling at him. He advanced so fast that no one could even follow with their eyes, but before reaching the target, he was hit by fire and turned into ashes right there.

Both sides were worn out. Their clothes were now torn apart and covered in dirt from head to toe. However, unlike their clothes, they both stood tall. Despite the layers of dried dirt on their faces, it was clear that they were not tired. They were determined; their gazes hadn't changed since the beginning.

The meaningless duel continued for a few more hours until it was interrupted by a loud shout, "Enough, stop this mockery!" As soon as Ezra heard the voice, he stopped where he was and fell to his knees.

The owner of the voice approached them. One would have to be a fool not to realize he was angry. When Ezra knelt, there was silence, accompanied by Arden's angry voice. Arden still held his weapon against his chest, his breath quickly rising and falling. Despite his worn-out clothes and dirty face, he still had a determined expression.

Arden approached Ezra and plunged his sword into the ground. "You're my eternal rival," he said, still with a hint of anger in his voice. "I thought you would be the one to fight again today. But from what I see, you're still the puppet of the king."

.....