The Labyrinth is where futures were made, and Ivo was not going to let his future be chosen for him. The rubble of the aging walls agitated the ground beneath his boots. He left his greaves tucked under a willow, two lefts, and a right turn back. He could memorize up to fifty turns, better than most, less than a select few. He’d double back and leave the maze victorious with them on and his armor shining, but for now, they were slowing him down. He relied on his agility to keep him out of harm’s way; he wouldn’t need the protection if he didn’t intend to take damage.
It was his first time in the inner labyrinth, like all of his competitors who are now of age. They all trained the mazes of the woods and caverns surrounding their village. Their parents guided them through their own memories of the event and the stories from victors past and present. They were a people bred to fight, raised to bring victory to those who summoned them, but today was a different war. Today was the pairing.
Ivo stopped deftly on the balls of his feet, knees bent, breath steady and silent as he heard the rustling of chains ahead. His heart fluttered at the possibility it could be her, his stomach sank with the fear of the possibility it wasn’t. He hadn’t mapped out the aisles ahead, but if he is coming across others he must be nearing the outer ring. Below the path is the underground path he took with his father and mother at his side as they walked him into the center and said their goodbyes as he stood on his pedestal at the entrance.
“May your pairing bring you strength.” His father, Silas rumbled with a proud nod. Ivo smiled at the tint to his father’s cheeks, a crack in his demeanor. Silas was a fortress with his emotions, yet the memory of his own pairing was enough to crack his walls, just as Ivo’s mother had when she conquered him in this very labyrinth.
“Good luck my son. May your senses guide you, and you choose well.” Iva held out hands, offering her namesake the flat metallic bonding bracelet. A humble strip of metal for the weight it carried. Once sealed could not be taken off. Verný mojej smrti, loyal to my death was the way of his kind.
That item that chooses his future is now sheathed and at his side. He brought his hand to it the weight of the event finally crashing down on him. The chains he heard rustle before now were sailing. A metal melody echoed down the concrete-flanked reverberating like the ripples of shoreline down the mountain from their village. A collision of steal rattled the air; a pair has begun a battle.
In this event there are only two knights wielding the flying hammer, the talent passed down by their father. Two sisters born in the same year, were allowed to enter the rite of passage together. One Ivo intended to stalk, ambush, and use the item at his hip to claim victory over her heart. The other, he’d refuse, but he had to be cautious because if you are defeated, there is no honor in denying your victor. It could cost him a mentor.
Adrianne earlier had flashed a coy smile at him before pulling down the visor of her helm and facing her entrance. Come and find me if you dare. That is what she said to him yesterday while her dark hair clung to her sweaty temples. He did dare. And that is what guided his silent pawing towards the battle. Any young knight in this labyrinth would take their chances of fighting Aphnes if it meant a split chance or battling Adrianne. Both were a lucky match for any knight. Ivo held no malice towards Aphne, but beyond honor, beyond duty, when the armor came off and there are no wars they are summoned for, it is Adrianne that he wanted to come home to.
Could be a trap. Ivo considered taking in the sounds, it only sounded like two in the scuffle, and he could hear the echo of the shield and the groan of it’s bearer just moments after chains sang. If only he could get a peak around the corner Ivo could watch the feet of the one throwing their weapon. The sisters had very different steps to how they welded their weapons. Adrienne was fond of a pivot on the ball of her foot, just as she did when she danced with him at victory feasts. Their people were bred to win, they had many feasts. Train for victory, celebrate often, honor the fallen, but praise those who triumphed. Soon it will be their turn to adorn their family crests and be summoned for battle.
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It has always been that way. Their people were given land, and weapons. Anything they needed to train, and when their ensign summoned they would answer the call. Ivo felt guilty that he was grateful the pairing was a month before his branding ceremony. You will regret that if you don’t get your head out of your ass and focus. The thought had come too late and as the dueling pair collided into the wall of the passage Ivo’s ears perked at the heavy steps charging behind him. Fool.
He raised his shield leaning into it as he reversed his stance. He left himself open and now he does not know the enemy he’s fighting he crouched low to cover his vulnerable knees as well as he could. The impact was less forceful than expected he listened behind the shield for the air cutting the next attack and when he heard it he swiped his shield hard in an attempt to parry the blow but the attack did not come from the same direction this one came from his exposed side. The blunt end of the polearm crashing into his ribs. The force staggering him into the wall where bits of moss and dirt sprinkled in through his visor. He would not be a pristine victor, and that wound alone ignited the ire in his chest.
Dual-pole arms. Derrin. Ivo should have remembered he wasn’t the only one who scouted everyone’s moves. Was his best friend not beside him? This may be the pairing but there’s a gravity to the event, this is how they show they are worthy of their branding. Derrin wasn’t going to let Ivo escape this labrinth without proving himself. A fear sunk deep in Ivo’s belly. What if this wasn’t about honor what if Derrin was looking to pair with the same knight as he? What if she said yes? The battle is to show your worth to your companion, a mating dance with bruises, but just because you win doesn’t always gain you the prize. They can refuse, few do, winning battles is the highest honor. Having a partner with clout raised your chances to be branded by your desired mentor.
Derrin tucked his chin, they all donned the same armor for the pairing. Usually this move would have the beak of a hawk pointed at Ivo, the armor of Derrin’s family. None are forgotten. Ivo spread his stance dropping his weight and crouching behind his shield. He had fought with Derrin before, and had yet to best him. The sound of the flying hammer on the wall behind him reverberated through his armor as Derrin spread his arms urging him to make a move.
His friend was rowdy, where Ivo was patient. That would be how he claimed victory today. He pushed his weight off his left foot, Adrienne told him it was his habit. He should have listened, Derrin read the move and without hesitation tucked his longer sharper pole arm, and stepped to the opposite side of Ivo’s shield dragging the shorter weapon across Ivo’s ankles. And you wanted the freedom to move. Ivo scolded himself as he tripped onto his shield letting go and leaving it behind as he rolled back to his feet ignoring the searing pain where iron connected with the bone. Derrin had the mercy to use the blunt end, he is showing dominance, Ivo was relieved to know his friend wasn’t trying to gravely wound him. Derrin, always the showman. The best of their generation.
Ivo raised his blade putting his now free hand on the hilt. He didn’t intend to wield the weapon this way, but where Derrin was bold and strong, Ivo was fast and smart. What he lacked in brute strength he made up for in adaptation. He waited for his friend to cajole him back into a fight, as soon as Derrin raised his arms, Ivo kicked off his left foot raised his blade, and with all go his strength brought the haft to his friend’s chest plate. He lets out a groan and backs into the wall. Ivo had him off balance, now was the time. He continued to step forward and that is when he heard the chains, just before they wrapped around his exposed ankle.