By Maya Petzoldt, TIWP Student
“I challenge you, daughter of Fortuna, to a battle to the death.”
I give her a tight lipped smile, my ever-growing ego peaking through. With a more meaningful smile and bit of a smirk, I say – “Sure thing, honey.”
I see her scowl at the nickname, and it brings yet another mocking smile to my face. I pick up the sword that glows into existence in front of me, just as she pulls her sword from the shadows. Her obsidian sword reflects the sun and the silence is suddenly deafening. I give her one more smile, one cheeky little smirk, and she charges, a look of unbridled rage painted upon her milk-white face.
She goes for a swing with her longsword, and once she is close enough, I lift my Lian sword to block, holding it there. Her arms tremble a bit, as she tries to force through my block. I give her a knowing look before jumping into a fighting stance, pushing her sword away and spinning around to smack her in the butt with it. I chuckle a little as she twirls around to face me, holding her butt with an embarrassed face.
The audience is silent for a moment before they erupt in an uproar at the battle finally beginning; this arena seems a lot more like it should now. She goes for every cut and swing in the book, and I block it every time, I jump at every swipe. She’s getting tired, I can see it. I smirk a little more as she goes for an under swing, and I jump as high as I can. I twist in the air and put out my foot, knocking her back before I land, it’s time to go on the offensive.
I run forward, and she barely has time to block as I swing at her, twirling around her to land minor cuts; I don’t want this to end just yet. I take one final spin, moving myself between her and her blade. I can see the confusion as if it were chest to chest, and I smirk down at her for only a second. I turn in her arms, before she can make a move, jumping and kicking the sword out of her hands before she even knows what’s happening. It flies across the arena, embedding itself in the wall.
While her confusion and surprise still render her unmoving, I slip behind her back and throw my sword to the other side of the arena, it also becoming part of the wall. I smirk again – I seem to be doing that a lot lately – and turn to look at her. She’s looking at me now, and I can’t stop myself saying-
“What’s wrong honey, I thought you wanted a fight?”
Reyoke scowls and launches herself at me. I dodge with ease, and watch amusedly as she tries to land a hit on me. As I look around, I see the audience is quickly going to get bored of this, and what can I say, I like having an audience. So I do the next best thing, I decide to end this fight quickly.
I backstep, faking retreat, and Reyoke falls right into my trap. She follows, and I kick my foot out, jabbing her in the stomach. With her doubled over, I thrust my knee up to hit her in the chin, and once she’s upright, I throw punch after punch on any bit of open arm and face I can see. She throws her arms in front of her face in a measly effort to stop my barrage on her pretty little face.
I stop and she peeks out timidly, almost scared. But I know she isn’t, she’s too stubborn to be scared of little old me. I smirk at her, with a face that says, told-you-so. I jump up, going for a kick, it’s my signature move if you haven’t noticed, and she throws her arms back up in a feeble attempt to block me. My kick hits it mark, square in her chest, and this time I put a bit of my power into it.
She goes flying across the arena, tumbling and rolling a little. She coughs up a bit of blood and a silence takes over the arena. I stand a few feet away, my fists at my side, ready to fight again, but my stance is slouched back, giving me an air of narcissism, I know I’ve won this round. After spitting the blood on the ground, she looks over at me, propped up on her forearms, and I can see the question on her face.
“You called me a daughter of Fortuna, or in other words, a daughter of luck. But that’s where you’re wrong, I did not become the champion of this city by luck, dear Reyoke, I became the champion because I am a daughter of victory.”
She looks taken aback. But after that, everything fades in and out. But I do remember one thing, as she was being treated, and as she walked away from the city, telling us she’d return when she was a greater fighter, I saw great things in her future. I bet when she comes back, well, she’ll probably be more of a challenge then.
By Maya Petzoldt, TIWP Student