Sage Eyes: Reawakening

Chapter 3 Part 6

"Did you see that elf win? He took out the other guy faster than a Halcyon thrush," Sofia said, looking down on the field. 

Jermina smirked. "I stopped watching after I realized that he was fully clothed underneath that armor. Couldn't he have shown some chest?"

The ladies-in-waiting kept chattering on, with Isabel jumping in from time to time, but Tiffany couldn't get into it. She kept stealing glances at Abel when he didn't look, too ashamed to look him in the eye. Should she refuse him? It's not like Tiffany had anyone else to hold out for. But Abel looked so...boring. They'd never talked before, just given stiff salutations. She couldn't imagine living with him. Eating with him. Sleeping with him...Tiffany shuddered. 

She didn't have any reason to refuse him, especially if she didn't want to offend Isabel. Abel's sister made no secret of glancing over at Tiffany to see her reaction, which Tiffany tried to maintain neutral. If Tiffany rejected Abel, her father would probably start pushing more suitors on her. It seemed like after he found out about her adventure, he wanted to get some man to control her. Maybe Lord Korigon suggested the whole thing. And Abel qualified as a better suitor than some of the other options, young men who disgusted her. 

She kept coming back to her sister's marriage, though. Alayna had seemed so happy with Keoff. He would bring her flowers, she would hug him and hang off his neck, staring into his eyes. They truly looked in love. Which made the tragedy afterward so painful. 

Tiffany couldn't take it. Focus on something else. On Simon. His loss. What a shame. He could have been well off if he had won the tournament. No need to return to crime. But Mars had proved himself easily the better fighter. Still, Simon should get a prize. 

The two fighters walked up to the wall nearest the pavilion. King George stood up, glancing at her, and looked down upon the two. "Congratulations, both of you. Your skills got you through the rounds, and we had an entertaining fight at the end. To you, Simon, our runner up, I grant you an award of ten thousand crowns."

Whispers through the crowd. Simon hadn't been their favorite, but he definitely had their envy now, with such a hefty sum. Tiffany's father didn't know he was giving so much money to a criminal. 

"To you, Mars the Blind Swordsman, our champion, let's give you a hand." The king started clapping, followed by his subjects. When it died down, he continued. "We have never had an elf win the games before. Congratulations. I will grant a wish that is within my power, and you will advance to the last round, against Sir Alveen. So what do you wish for? Money? A title? Lands? A wife?"

"I wish for one thing only," Mars said. "The sword named Forsaken."

The king looked a little confused for a moment, but then understanding dawned on him. Tiffany realized what he wanted at the same time. 

House Blade had received its name because they were the guardians of a special sword, the blade Forsaken. Supposedly, only a Blade could use the weapon, even though no one had taken it out of the King's Vault in hundreds of years. Some believed it came with a curse. No one remembered its purpose; it had been forsaken generations ago. Still, her family was supposed to take care of it. Tiffany's face echoed her fathers's, that of reluctant frustration.

"I can attempt to give it to you, but cannot guarantee it will allow you to command it," King George said slowly. He didn't want to give it up, Tiffany could tell. He hoped Mars couldn't use it at all. "But first, let's have you face off against your next opponent, Sir Alveen."

Preparations went underway, and within moments, Alveen came out, looking cocky with his tussled brown hair and swing to his walk, his jacket flapping. Mars remained cool as they walked toward the middle.

"This fight is rigged," Isabel whispered. "My dad told me so."

"What do you mean?" Tiffany asked. 

"Sir Alveen is a Knight of the Dragon. That makes him a judge. So he can use magic, legally."

"But Mars can't," Tiffany finished, leaning in. It seemed so strange, and a little wrong, that the Knights of the Dragon used magic, but she supposed they needed it to combat anyone who might try to harm the king. She wondered if the Judge Lords above really approved of that technicality. But they did seem uncorrupted from magic use. Or Mary did, at least. Tiffany didn't really know the others. "Why would they rig this? Doesn't my father want someone to replace Satchel?"

"Yes. But not this way. Think of it. When they found Satchel murdered, it cast a bad light on the Knights of the Dragon. And people were afraid they wouldn't be able to protect them. So, in order to restore confidence and faith, King George is having the greatest fighter in the land, the winner of the tournament, fight one of his Knights. When the fighter, Mars, loses, people won't think the Knights are so weak. Of course, Alveen's magic use will be discreet. You're not the only one uncomfortable with them using it."

"Clever," Tiffany said. Her doubts earlier had all but disappeared. Her father wouldn't let an assassin become the next Knight of the Dragon.

Sir Alveen and Mars crossed swords, then returned to their respective sides. The judge waved his flag, and they started advancing. Tiffany saw the judge give Alveen a knowing look. The Knight paused a moment, then kept going forward, looking a little more confident. These things implied his magic use, although she would have missed them had she not looked for them. Tiffany felt an empty feeling inside. It didn't seem fair. Mars had fought to get here, and now had to face imbalanced odds.

Mars didn't look worried. She wondered how he knew where to go, what with his blindfold on. Did he use it as a gimmick, or was he really blind? He advanced slowly, unlike the fight with Simon, his katana raise up to the side of his head.

The two fighters met in the middle and Alveen swung first. The sound of the two swords clashing rang out so loud and high pitched that Tiffany thought she could feel the vibrations. The two began a quick back and forth exchange of swords that Tiffany could barely follow. Normally uninterested in this brutality, Tiffany couldn't tear her eyes away.

Alveen seemed to have the advantage, slowly pushing Mars back. He smiled in triumph. But out of nowhere, a sword flew up and landed on the sand. Only when Mars pointed his katana at Alveen did Tiffany realize he had flipped the Knight's sword away. Alveen started to raise his hands, but then ducked and ran for his sword. Mars spun and put his sword in the way, but Alveen, desperate to get his sword back, pushed Mars out of the way with his hand, making him stumble back. But Tiffany realized that Alveen hadn't even touched him. He had used magic.

Alveen grabbed his sword, but people in the audience had begun to realize what had happened and many began murmuring. Alveen started fighting again, but recognized that people had seen him, and his confidence faltered. Tiffany looked over at her father and saw him shake his head and put it in his hand.

Mars fought like nothing had happened. None of the attacks hit him, even when Alveen tried to get in close. He almost looked like he wasn't trying.

A moment later, though, he dropped his own sword and caught Alveen's sword in a clap of his hands. Surprised, Alveen let go, and Mars quickly turned the sword around and put it to Alveen's neck. Alveen jumped away, and Mars followed. Again, Alveen used magic to keep Mars back, but then Mars threw the sword at him. Unexpected, the hilt pegged Alveen in his temple and the Knight fell down, unconscious.

The crowd burst out cheering, glad that the fighter who didn't use magic won. So many people felt uncomfortable with reminders that magic even existed, so they celebrated anything against magic.

King George pulled himself up, as if the weight of the world pushed down on him. Coughing to find his voice, he said, "Congratulations, Mars. You have earned your right to call yourself a Knight of the Dragon. We will formally knight you tomorrow. And to all the participants, we will host a ball tomorrow night in celebration of the games. Please attend."

Not one of her father's finest speeches. He sat down, looking worried.

Well, he shouldn't have made the offer if hesitant to uphold it, Tiffany thought.