(Ivan)

Ivan watched Jane as she stood up, vaulted gracefully over a handrail, and walked briskly toward the arena grounds. Her cloak fluttered behind her.

Rock Stump followed her. He was surprisingly nimble for his massive size. He was at least two feet taller than Jane and had the build of a large bear. He had a rounded midsection that looked like he had swallowed a keg of beer.

The Shadow Lands spectators cheered boisterously.

“The Nature Kingdom will be represented by Rob Stone and Ivan Snow. Rob, the Swiftblade, is the reigning Spirit Competition champion. He dominated in the finals ten years ago. Ivan Snow, the Snowstorm, is the titleholder of the Pike’s Brawlers Tournament. Please welcome the champions from the Nature Kingdom.”

The Nature Kingdom contingent went wild as Ivan and Rob made their way toward the champion stage.

A group of men and women entered the field, pulling a floating armory buggy. It was loaded with different swords, armor, and other gear. The champions were outfitted with Vests of Protection.

Personal blades were not allowed, so Ivan took his time looking for the right weapon. He evaluated the swords based on length, weight, and point of balance. He narrowed down his selection to three blades that had more weight above the hilt, which were designed to give the wielder more striking power.

After making his selection, he glanced at Jane and caught her watching him. Their eyes locked for an instant before he averted his gaze.

Something about the way she looked at him set him on edge.

Ivan headed back to the champion stage after getting his gear. He sat down and nodded to Rob.

“If we win all of our fights, we’ll face each other in the finals,” Rob told him. “Time and a few injuries might have slowed me down a bit, but I’m hopeful that my training and experience will bridge the gap. I hope we see each other in the finals. Let’s make our people proud. May the scales of fate favor you.”

“I’ll do my best. May the scales of fate favor you,” Ivan replied to the old proverb.

“The final bets with the dicers are coming to a close,” the announcer blared.

Ivan saw a flurry of activity as spectators rushed to place their bets. A few minutes later red flags were raised, closing the betting round. He figured Toby had already placed his bet. Ivan was not a fan of gambling. A game of chance where the odds were stacked against you was a fool’s game in his book.

“In the first round, Fin Gothic will face Ivan Snow.” Ivan’s heart quickened when he heard his name. “The Snowstorm will fight the Blazing Infernooooooo!” the announcer shouted with arms raised. “In the clash between ice and fire, who will claim victory? Clear the arena proper, so the match can begin. Today, we are going to witness history in the making.”

The side gates of the coliseum opened and everyone except the attestants, champions, and judges, cleared the field. The floating weapons rack was moved next to the sidelines and only Fin Gothic and Ivan Snow remained on the field.

Ivan always felt nervous before a duel. His stomach was in a knot and his palms were sweaty. He had his own ritual to ease his nerves. He took a deep breath and started rolling his shoulders. He clenched his fists and let them relax. He turned toward his attestant and reached for the sticky sand. He scooped some up and slowly rubbed his palms together. Ivan accepted the proffered sword once he was ready. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath, exhaling slowly. He opened his eyes and felt calm and poised. The attestant bowed and moved back.

The thunderclap of the Behemoth announced the start of combat. Fin Gothic expertly spun his sword in one hand and extended it toward his opponent. Ivan did the same, to indicate that he was ready.

The coliseum exploded with ear-cracking applause.

The shouts of Inferno were met with screams of Snowstorm. The rallying cries of the spectators from the Evergreen Realm and the Nature Kingdom filled the colosseum. Each group led the chanting of the crowd for their own duelist. The energy of the audience washed over the combatants.

Ivan knew that Fin was well-known by the crowd and favored to win the match. Being perceived as the underdog had its own advantages, though. An opponent that underestimated you often made crucial mistakes. Ivan was reminded of the old saying – “Appear weak when you are strong, and strong when you are weak.”

Fin wasted no time and lunged forward. His opening clash was fierce. Ivan deflected the incoming strikes and sidestepped a series of stabs.

Ivan switched his footwork and stance to an unconventional style that he had seen inexperienced fighters use when they felt overwhelmed.

Fin took the bait!

He pushed forward with the Windmill Assault, commonly used to overpower a less experienced swordsman. The Blazing Inferno leaped forward and delivered a barrage of slashes. Ivan narrowed the distance to his opponent, circled him, and parried the onslaught, foiling Fin’s attack with his Stone Wall defense. The Windmill Assault relied on power and speed. It was an impressive technique that was difficult to master. But it was a strategy that could not be sustained for a prolonged period. Fin’s initial bravado and poise started to slip. His overconfident expression disappeared.

The duel continued. No one landed a strike. Fin had overexerted himself during his offensive push and was drenched in sweat. Ivan relied on his stamina and maintained a defensive stance while he evaluated Fin’s reach, speed, and fighting style.

An opening presented itself. Ivan feigned a parry, throwing Fin off-balance for a split second. That was all that was needed. He delivered a powerful thrust. If not for the Vest of Protection, Fin would have been gutted.

Fin dropped to the ground with a grunt.

“What an amazing fight,” the commentator bellowed. “No one expects a snowstorm to arrive at the start of spring.” He chuckled at his own joke. “The victor of the first match is Ivan Snow!”

Ivan headed toward the champion’s stage. He briefly looked back. The attestants assisted Fin with the VOP removal by using a nullifying rod.

“The Stone Wall defense against the Windmill Assault was a risky move, but you made it look easy.” Rob clapped Ivan on the shoulder. “Well done. After this fight, your next opponent will be more cautious.”

“Fin underestimated me. Most people do, before they see me fight. But I agree, it’s unlikely for any of the others to make the same mistake.”

“An upset,” the announcer’s voice boomed. “What an excellent way to start the Spirit Competition. In the second match, the reigning champion, the Swiftblade, will face the Whirlwind. Here come Rob Stone and Verti Grace!”

The combatants, followed by the attestants, walked to the center of the arena, and prepared for their duel.

The Behemoth sounded and the men extended their swords at the ready. The duel began with the opponents circling each other. Verti was the first to test Rob’s defenses. He attempted to deliver a quick strike, which was met with a jarring block and swift counterattack that grazed Verti. The match could easily have ended in the first exchange if the Whirlwind had not moved quickly enough. Rob boldly took the initiative with the Viper Strike maneuver. An overhead chop was deflected by Verti, causing an explosion of sparks. The Whirlwind landed a glancing blow on Rob’s right arm. The VOP weighed down his arm, simulating the injury. Rob instantly switched sword hands. Seeing Rob’s apparent disadvantage, Verti charged forward.

I bet Rob did that on purpose, Ivan thought.

Not many people outside of the Nature Kingdom had seen Rob fight with his left hand. He had heard a story from his aunt that when Rob was a young man, he had injured his right arm and had been forced to practice with his left to keep up with the other students. Since that time, Rob had continued to practice with both hands.

Naturally, Ivan had incorporated Rob’s left-handed practice into his own training.

Verti’s aggressive charge was deftly parried by Rob, which provided an opening. Rob delivered a swift thrust to the ribcage, ending the fight. The Whirlwind swayed and then collapsed to the ground.

“It appears that the reigning champion’s left hand is as deadly as his right,” the announcer exclaimed over the ovations of the crowd. “What an incredible contest! So far, the Nature Kingdom is dominating.”

“In the next duel, we will see Jane Sapphire and Julius Restic. We have ourselves a royal match.” The spectators laughed. “The Shadow Princess will face the Unforgiving Blade.”

Jane stood up. She tossed her cloak to one side. “Shadow Princess... That better not stick.”

Ivan overheard her grumbling as she passed by. “Royal match… As if.” She huffed.

Ivan watched her closely, evaluating her as an opponent. She moved like a predator, graceful and fluid. Her expression was proud and determined. He was eager to see her fight.

Julius fidgeted with apparent impatience. He cocked his head to one side, scanned Jane from head-to-toe and shook his head dismissively.

The Behemoth blared and Julius wasted no time. He surged toward Jane with a burst of speed. Jane sprang forward, ducked past his sweeping attack, and thrust her sword into his gut. Jane’s counterattack was a blur. Without looking back, she headed toward her seat as Julius crumpled to the ground behind her.

Many in the crowd leaped up and raised their hands in awe. Exclamations of disbelief mixed with cheers echoed throughout the coliseum. Across the field, the Evergreen Realm section stared in stunned silence.

Ivan had barely registered all of that in the background as he gaped at Jane. He realized that he was gawking openly at her when she arched her eyebrow and winked at him. He did a double take. As she passed him, he heard her muttering.

“Royal match my brass.”

Ivan’s eyes widened. He wanted to laugh but kept a straight face. He did not know many royals, but he did not expect such language from one of them. Jane was feisty.

“This might be the fastest victory in the history of the Spirit Competition.” The announcer’s voice echoed the disbelief of the spectators. “I hope you didn’t blink, otherwise you would have missed the entire fight. Wow, simply amazing!”

“In the next match, the Butcher will face the Deadly Viper. Here come Rock Stump and Calin Hope.”

Rock Stump towered over Calin Hope. Despite that, Calin was still the favorite to win the match. On the boards, the dicers had Calin leading three to one. Rock was a renowned general of the Shadow Land’s army but was relatively unknown in the dueling world.

(Rock Stump)

The familiar sound of the Behemoth announced the start of the match. Rock was annoyed. He had been forced to enlist in this useless competition by his queen. Sword fighting was not a game for him, but a way of life. The trip to Eel Island was a waste of his time. He had a war to win and needed to be with his troops. He absently rubbed the vicious scar on his face and touched his half mutilated left ear, while glaring at Calin.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

(Calin Hope)

Calin eyed the Butcher warily. His opponent was inhumanly large. He needed to rely on his speed and cunning to win this fight. “Speed, cunning, and good looks are all you need in life,” his momma used to tell him. He knew that he had at least two of those and had made a name for himself.

Rock went on the offensive with a vicious attack. Calin dodged, sidestepped, and deflected a brutal blow that jarred his teeth. He realized that he could not allow Rock to continue his offensive frenzy. He began timing his strikes with a quick in-and-out approach, using the Elusive Dancer technique. He landed a solid slice across Rock’s left forearm, which appeared to have no impact on the giant. Encouraged by his success, he pressed on.

He delivered three solid hits and smiled to himself. The last slice to Rock’s shoulder had caused him to stumble. The win was within his grasp.

His opponent appeared to be struggling to stay upright. Calin lunged forward to deliver the coup de grâce. Surprisingly, Rock moved nimbly to one side and swung his sword like a battle ax. The force of the blow broke through Calin’s defense and flattened him to the ground.

“What an incredible turnaround!” the announcer cried out. “Calin dominated throughout the duel, but in the end, he found himself between a rock and a hard place.” He laughed at his own joke again.

(William)

“Only four champions remain in the sword fighting tournament. We will have a showdown between the Nature Kingdom and the Shadow Lands. Before we proceed with the second round, you will witness an epic battle between the Red Dragons and Blue Wyverns teams. It’s time for Burn the Banner!”

“Burn the Banner.”

“Burn the Banner!”

The spectators jumped to their feet and cheered wildly. An underground door on the east side of the arena retracted.

The announcer bellowed, “Let’s welcome the Red Dragons.” The bannerman for the Red Dragons emerged. He sprinted, while holding his team’s flag high up in the air, flexed his biceps, and roared fiercely. The rest of his team stormed onto the field. They were all armed with shields, spears, and VOPs.

William noticed that the crowd’s reaction was mixed. Some cheered and others booed. Apparently, not everyone was a fan of the red team. Even at the far northern cities of the Nature Kingdom, people talked about their favorite Burn the Banner team. In the taverns of Pike and Scar, he had overheard plenty of heated arguments about which was the best team and who was the best player.

“Let’s greet last year’s victors, the Blue Wyverns.” The announcer stood up from his seat and held the Screamer Shell in both hands.

A second underground door retracted on the west side of the arena. The bannerman for the Blue Wyverns ran onto the field, followed by the rest of his teammates.

“Aunt Lisa… Aunt Lisa!” William jumped up and down. “We’re watching the Blue Wyverns in person!”

His aunt smiled and threw her arm across his shoulders. “Did you know that this tournament doesn’t follow all of the standard rules for Burn the Banner?”

“Really?” William leaned forward. “Well, to be honest, I don’t know all the rules, anyhow. I only kept up with the scores when we visited Pike.”

“Let’s see. Well, the basics are still the same. Each team starts on the opposite side of the field. The goal is to grab the enemy’s banner, bring it back to your starting base, and burn it in the brazier.”

“Look, they’re lighting up the braziers on each side of the field.” William pointed. “What’s going on over there?”

“That’s part of the modified rules. The monks Levitating those boulders and trees will create additional obstacles for the two teams. At timed intervals, they’ll send them flying across the arena. The players will have to avoid getting smashed by one of those if they want to stay in the game.”

William rarely saw his aunt so excited. She gestured exuberantly.

“In addition to that,” she continued, “there is no designated bannerman. The small banner is attached to a spear, so if the bannerman gets surrounded, she can throw the spear toward a teammate. That makes the game much more exciting and unpredictable.”

“Scraps, that sounds amazing. The Blue Wyverns are the best!” He raised his hands and pumped his fists in the air.

The braziers burned, the boulders zoomed across the field, and the two teams stood at their bases, ready to start the game. The Behemoth sounded and the offensive players rushed into the fray.

William sat on the edge of his seat. The main offensive forces of the two teams collided and he jumped up. The crowd roared as the battle commenced.

“Hey, Aunt Lisa, I see our favorite player. Look, there is George.” He pointed.

“Watch out for that tree!” William joined the unified cry.

Several players got pummeled and fell to the ground, weighed down by their VOPs. William groaned as two of the Blue Wyverns were splayed out helplessly on the field. Despite their predicament, they still tried to trip their opponents with their spears. Some of the Red Dragons suddenly split and vaulted toward the blue banner carrier. The Blue Wyverns executed a similar maneuver on the opposite side of the field.

The only thing louder than the pounding of the shields was the screaming of the crowd. The last defender protecting the Blue Wyvern’s bannerman went down. William gasped and jumped up. The bannerman for the Blue Wyverns was none other than Viktor Grim, the youngest player to ever become a team captain and a crowd favorite.

Viktor was surrounded by four opponents, but he took down three players by himself, before throwing the banner to a teammate.

“That was awesome,” William shouted.

“Nooo,” Lisa cried out as the new bannerman for the blue team got smashed by a flying tree. One of the Red Dragons captured the fallen flag and two of his fellow players ran toward him to form a defensive line.

The spectators that were cheering for the Red Dragons chanted, “Burn... Burn… Burn!”

Viktor Grim rallied his team with a battle cry and sprinted after their lost banner. He raced at full speed, carrying a spear in each hand. He was faster than anyone on the field and quickly gained ground. Suddenly, in midstride, he sent one of his spears flying, followed by the other. Each spear connected with a target. He knocked out the rear guard and the banner carrier. That was all the time that his team needed to recapture their lost flag.

“Look!” William cried out. Viktor Grim sprinted toward the brazier. William and Lisa sprang up from their seats and screamed, “Run… Run… Run!”

Their team ended the match with a dramatic win. The fans of the Blue Wyverns yelled exuberantly and hugged each other. Viktor Grim was lifted onto the shoulders of his teammates as they celebrated their victory.

“What a match! Another classic contest between the Blue Wyverns and the Red Dragons.” the announcer bellowed after the field was cleared. “Viktor Grim singlehandedly carried his team to victory. He is the player of the decade, if not the century. The Blue Wyverns need seven more wins to tie the best record ever. To commemorate today’s historic clash between the Blue Wyverns and the Red Dragons, do not forget to purchase cloaks and banners of your favorite team at the marketplace.”

“Let’s keep things moving,” the announcer roared. “Please note that the red flags are up, and betting is closed. It is time for our second round in the sword fighting competition. The Butcher will face the Snowstorm. Duelists, take your places.”

(Ivan)

Once he and Rock were in position, the Behemoth blasted, and the match began. Ivan took the initiative. He had observed Rock closely in the previous match and had devised a movement-based strategy. In a matter of seconds, he landed two grazing slashes. The technique that he used was created by the bloodstalkers of Tork. It was used to take down larger, slower pray. The name of the technique was Death by a Thousand Cuts, and it relied on incapacitating your opponent over time with multiple non-lethal strikes. Ivan moved nimbly, avoiding Rock’s counter attacks. His swift strikes were intended to maim, not kill.

Rock rumbled with rage and charged forward. Ivan gracefully ducked under a heavy swing and countered. The number of slashes that he landed continued to pile up. He could see that the Butcher was beginning to feel the effects. Still, Ivan took his time and continued his relentless assault. Finally, Rock dropped to the ground with a groan.

“That’s the longest fight we’ve seen for decades. The Butcher demonstrated incredible endurance, yet it was not enough. Our first finalist is the Snowstorm.”

The spectators were already on their feet. They had been oohing and aahing during the entire fight. Ivan noticed that some of the Tork spectators were exceedingly exuberant.

“He used one of our fighting techniques,” someone bellowed.

“He’s just as skilled with that technique as one of our bloodstalkers,” another one cried out.

“He should receive an honorary title of bloodstalker.”

Ivan noticed that a few of the Torkans who had questioned his selection before the competition were now singing his praises.

“I told you he is the best!” John was waving and screaming wildly. “The Rock was no match for the Snowstorm. In your face, pebble.”

Next to him, Toby waved just as exuberantly, hands stuffed full of dicer chits.

It took a few minutes for the crowd to settle down.

“The next match will determine our second finalist,” the announcer bellowed into the Screamer Shell. “Rob Stone and Jane Sapphire, take your places.”

Ivan watched as Jane purposefully strode onto the field. She moved with confidence and dexterity. Rob extended his sword forward and bowed slightly, a gesture given to a worthy opponent. Jane raised her blade to salute him in turn.

The Behemoth trumpeted and both combatants leaped into action. Their swords collided violently, causing an earsplitting metallic clank. The blades whistled as they sliced through the air. The crowd exploded when Jane dove backward in a summersault to avoid a low strike. Ivan observed that both fighters were well matched. Jane appeared to have a slight advantage on agility, while Rob was delivering the more powerful blows.

Jane switched to the Lumberjack, an antiquated dueling maneuver. As she advanced with a series of cleaving strikes, Rob was forced to retreat. Ivan leaned forward, completely absorbed by the fight. Jane was a formidable opponent and one of the best swordsmen he had seen. To counter, Rob switched to the Flying Leaf. He moved nimbly from side to side and attacked Jane with a series of sweeping slices. The dance of their blades was a rare spectacle. The fight could have continued, if not for a slip by Rob. Jane took full advantage of the brief opening and drove her sword into his chest.

Rob fell to the ground. The piercing screams of the spectators filled the arena. Jane knelt and spoke to Rob. Ivan, sitting not far from them, leaned forward.

“You have the heart of a champion,” she said.

“You’re a fierce fighter,” Rob replied. “It’s likely that the next time we meet, it’ll be on the field of battle.”

“Perhaps.” She inclined her head, stood up, and walked back to her seat.

“What a sensational match,” the announcer proclaimed. “It was truly magnificent to have seen such an extraordinary display of skill and talent. The finals match will be between the Shadow Princess and the Snowstorm.”

“It’s time for the next interlude.” The crowd cheered in response.

“Bring on the Pig Lancers!”

(William)

“I’ve never heard of Pig Lancers.” William looked at his aunt questioningly.

“Ohhhhh, you’re going to love this game. It’s Rose’s favorite. There are two teams. Each team has ten players. A team consists of nine stilts-men and one jouster riding a pig. Look! Look, here they come.” The jousters carried long lances and rode the biggest hogs William had ever seen.

“The rules are simple,” Lisa continued. “The team with the last man standing is the winner. The pig jousters’ goal is to topple over the clowns on the stilts.”

“Hah, they’ve saddled the pigs like horses.” William pointed and laughed. “Look at those clowns. They’re throwing carrots to distract the pigs.”

The game had already started, and it was the weirdest thing William had ever seen. He could not stop laughing.

“I can’t take it.” Lisa held her stomach and howled with laughter. Two of the clowns threw carrots at each other and yelled insults. Another clown had lost a stilt and was hopping on a single post, screaming, and flailing wildly.

At the end of the game, William was not sure which team had won. All the stilts-men had been toppled over. The spectacle had whipped the crowd into a laughing frenzy.

The announcer cleared his throat. “The winner of this contest is the Bacon Brawlers. The rematch between the two teams will be tomorrow.” The announcement was followed by another round of cheers. “Don’t forget to get your bacon brisket on a brioche bun from the bistro. Those come with a complimentary clown cocktail.”

“The dicers are closed. And now, are you ready for the ultimate clash between the Nature Kingdom and the Shadow Lands?” The announcer jumped on top of the table and raised the Screamer Shell above his head.

The throng of spectators went wild.

“The two remaining contestants have clawed their way to the top in a shocking display of skill and determination. The odds of seeing these two fighters in the finals is staggering. It is time for the last match in the sword fighting tournament. Jane Sapphire and Ivan Snow, take your places.”

(Ivan)

Ivan met Jane at the center of the arena, and they exchanged the traditional greeting. She watched him intently, like a predator. He got the distinct impression that she would pounce on him the moment the duel began. Ivan was eager for the fight to commence. But his excitement was tinged with anxiety. He had only seen Jane fight twice, but that was enough to know that she was a tough and unpredictable opponent.

“Did you know that the last tie in the sword fighting event was over a century ago?” The sound of Jane’s voice startled him. She paused meaningfully and added, “What are the odds of this match ending in a tie?”

Ivan did not have a chance to respond before the Behemoth blared and Jane darted toward him. He felt the rush of air to his left as he deftly avoided her strike. His feet scraped the dirt as he swiftly countered, thrusting his blade toward her. Jane spun sideways and attempted to flank him. Their swords locked, and they briefly stood shoulder-to-shoulder. In an unorthodox fashion, Jane drove her knee toward his midsection. Ivan twisted away at the last moment and barely avoided the hit. She glided forward with a sideswipe and their swords clashed again. The impact of their blades resonated throughout the arena.

Klank! Whoosh! Klank!

Ivan went on the offensive. He delivered a series of brutal strikes that drove Jane back. She was equally adept at defense and skillfully deflected the onslaught. The crowd reacted to every swing and near miss.

Ivan was impressed by how fluidly Jane switched from one style to another. After a long exchange, they circled each other. Jane and Ivan used the brief lull to catch their breath.

Jane rushed at him, and their swords locked again. They stood face-to-face, straining for dominance, before pushing away. They were both drenched in sweat. Ivan thought that he was finally getting ahead. He lunged forward and feigned a midsection stab. His eyes widened when he realized that Jane mirrored his attack. He stabbed Jane in the heart while she struck him in the lung. Together, they collapsed to the ground.

“What!” the announcer cried out. “The duel ends in a tie…” The disbelief was clear in his voice.

The coliseum was in an uproar. People were on their feet, cheering, yelling, and clapping.

Less than a foot apart, Ivan and Jane faced each other as they lay on the field. She was flushed with exertion, and she looked intently at him.

“Meet me at the northern entrance of the Temple of Cea’Nia at the start of the Archery Competition. I’ll tell you how I knew the outcome of our duel. And…” She paused. “I’ll tell you what started the war.”