Ferry flinched at the sight of bright red blood dripping down Stot's leg. His eyes widened and his heart raced. He couldn't help himself and came out of the shadows.
"Stot, can I help you?" he said softly.
Stot looked up at him. After his sturtle passed, he tried in vain to stand up, leaning on his staff.
"I don't need your help, Prince Garrett," he said, trying in vain to hide his wound.
But Ferry stretched out his hand and Stot finally accepted it. His gaze was no longer as troubled.
"About your wound... I won't tell anyone," said Ferry.
"What do you mean? It's just a cut. I'll be fine. Bedsides, the tournament is coming. I have to be ready," he said firmly, trying to trudge towards the castle.
Ferry joined him. "Stot, why didn't you say you were human? That's why your wound doesn't heal. That's why your blood is red."
Stot stopped on his way. "I'm not human!" he almost shouted. "I am not one of those lazy, greedy, fake, selfish beings! I refuse to be a damned man!" he said between his teeth. And he went on, not caring about the pain in his leg or the shadows that stretched before him.
***
The Cloud Fortress Tournament was organized to celebrate the victories of the Amalgham army, but also as a proof of the progress that the young fighters were making. Or maybe they were just attempts to give hope to the inhabitants of the Fortress, now that the Long Night was getting closer. And since Thyme had won a new victory, it was another reason for everyone to celebrate. And one more reason for Ferry to show everyone how much he had learned.
On the day of the tournament, Ferry was woken up by Raghnall earlier than usual.
"Who will I fight?" he asked as he hurriedly dressed.
"We cannot decide that. Not even our commanders. It will be drawn."
"So it's some kind of a competition between us soldiers?" Ferry asked.
"You could call him that," Raghnall replied. "We usually organize such moments for people who are devoted to the Fortress through their work. So that they can see how much we work, how much we train to defend this world from the enemy."
The road to the arena behind the castle was strewn with cheers and shouts that sounded louder and louder as they approached. Everyone was present, Solacers and Amalghams, from small to large.
They were all there, seated in concentric circles around the battle arena built on the meadow behind the castle. The first semicircle was occupied, of course, by Lord Stephan, with Thyme and Leomh by his side. His guards followed, then, in the third semicircle, the warrior elves, among them Raghnall, all a bit noisy and impatient.
At some distance, standing, all the inhabitants of the Fortress were present, from the female Amalghams in the kitchen to the young Amalghams who tended the stables or the blacksmiths.
Ferry noticed the arrangement of the seats in the tribune – each one meant a place in the hierarchy of the Cloud Fortress: to the right of Lord Stephan, the place was empty, waiting for him. It was the place between Lord Stephan and Thyme, his two mentors. Leomh was seated to the left of the Pan, with Stot by his side. Stot was pale and thin, and seemed to have aged since Ferry had last seen him. In the back row were his Guardians who encouraged him with a nod and a smile. Even Sage greeted him with a short nod of the head.
Oona sat down calmly next to the young elves who had made room for her in their midst, happy and slightly unsettled by her presence. The nymph had taken her place on a seat with three pillows so that she could see better. She was laughing and clapping her hands, and the young elves, delighted by her presence, tried to get her attention. Everyone, except for Raghnall who was sitting back, somewhere on the edge of the noisy group. Dressed in an emerald-colored dress, with her red hair braided in a thick braid that fell down her back and with a crown of silver flowers on her head, Oona looked like a real queen who had come to watch a show her subjects had organized just for she.
Even Finn was present. He was sitting on the shoulders of a young Amalgham from the stables and was happily clapping.
Only Matilda was missing and Ferry felt his heart skip a beat again. He began to feel restless. All the confidence he had gained lately was starting to dissipate with every cheer or clap.
The herald, a tall elf, in his silver and fine robes that covered his body like a second skin, stepped solemnly to the middle of the arena. All the commotion stopped.
"Greetings, honorable gathering!" he said loudly and his voice collided with the high walls of the fortress, breaking into dozens of echoes. "Greetings, brave warriors and wise mentors! Greetings, brave defenders of this place ! We have gathered here to honor courage and determination. And to celebrate another victory against the enemy!"
Around him, the tumult began to grow again. "This time, we have the honor of having Prince Garrett among us," continued the elf just as loudly and the crowd cheered again at the sound of his name. "This time, we will all get to see his fighting skills that everyone is talking about."
The frenzy in the arena grew again and Ferry felt all eyes on him.
"But before that," continued the announcer, "let me remind you of the rules of the tournament. Therefore, the first round means the presentation of all the participants at the starting line and their division into two camps that will fight, on horseback, one against the other. The mandatory weapon is the spear. Those who will remain on horseback, shall pass to the next round. Then by draw, there will be selected the combatants who will fight against each other in the following rounds. There will be sword and spear fighting rounds. The one who manages to pass all the rounds wins the tournament. May the most worthy of us win," solemnly concluded the elf and the arena was once again filled with shouts and cheers.
An Amalgham brought Wind, his horse, and Ferry let down the shutter of his helmet and got on the horse. He was greeted by cheers. Oona waved her ivory arms at him which looked like white butterfly wings. Ferry greeted the audience with a nod and his confidence returned. Judging by the cheers with which he was greeted, he was the most admired of the participants.
Lord Stephan raised his arm, announcing the start of the tournament.
All the warriors lined up for the charge. At the signal of the herald's cry, the lines engaged at each other and met with levelled lances.
All the knights clashed, and Ferry felt his breath cut off in the crowd of men and horses that continued to grow, pushing and mounting each other. Like the other fighters, Ferry shouted and raised his spear while other spears raised against him.
Those remaining on horseback turned quickly and emerged against each other.
Because Wind was one of the fastest horses he had ever seen at the Fortress, Ferry managed to sneak through the crowd of fighters and knock down a dozen of them in his riding rush.
When the announcer called for the end of the first round, only half of the fighters in the beginning were still on horseback.
During the break between rounds, Ferry observed his opponents. There were more Amalghams than Solacers, a sign that physical force was sometimes more effective than combat tactics. He took a few sips of fresh water from the flask that had been brought to him and tried to find familiar faces in the crowd of fighters who were catching their breath. He recognized Stot, Raghnall and... Sage. The wolf-man was laughing and talking to other Amalghams as if he were at some feast and not a tournament.
The second round was intended for sword fighting. Opponents were drawn by lot. Ferry found out that he was number one, which gave him some sense of pride. Was he number one because he was considered the best?
Before the start of the second round, Ferry received a plaque with his opponent's number on a silver tray. His opponent in the fight was a young elf who gave him a sly look, then pounced on him with a sly sword. Ferry scrambled back and managed to stop the lightning strike that had fallen on him. Then, with quick movements, he swung his sword above his head and charged at the elf with such determination that his opponent did not have time to respond to the repeated blows and finally lost the sword, then collapsed to the ground, raising his hands in the air in sign of surrender.
Ferry raised his sword in the air as a sign of victory and the crowd exploded into cheers again. Returning to his seat, he couldn't help but notice the pride on Thyme's face, but also the surprise in Lord Stephan's eyes. He then carefully followed the fight between Sage and a Solacer and was surprised by his strength and agile, precise movements. For a moment, he was even worried that if Sage had been his opponent, he might have defeated him. This time around, Sage won the fight with an ease that Ferry couldn't help but envy.
After a short break, in which he barely had time to catch his breath, Ferry received the number of the next opponent. Next there was the fighting with the lance challenge.
When his turn came, Ferry put on his heavy armor and climbed into his saddle. In the arena, he was greeted again by cheers and shouts of encouragement. He bowed to the audience, and the cheers became louder.
Ferry looked across the arena. His opponent was just climbing into his, helped by an Amalgham. He was short and thin, but he moved smoothly under the silver armor that sparkled under the starlight. He was too tall to be a dwarf and too short to be a Solacer. It could only be an Amalgham. Ferry closed the visor of his helmet and tightened his lance in his hand. He looked at his opponent's spear and realized that it was much smaller, suitable for his small stature. Ferry grinned under his helmet: it was going to be an easy fight.
At the signal to start the fight, Ferry engaged with all his strength towards the other side of the arena, becoming one with his horse. He flew like the wind towards the opponent, with the spear aiming at him, but when he was ust about to knock him down, he was surprised to see that he had disappeared without even the spear touching him. He knew that magic was not allowed during training and competitions because the fighters of Akna fought a fair fight based on skills and effort and not on magic, precisely because not all Aknanians possessed magic in the same way.
Ferry tugged at the horse's reins and turned. His opponent was on the other side of the arena, and now he was aiming at him with the speed of the wind. He barely had time to avoid the blow, almost falling from his horse, as the other fighter already started towards him with his spear outstretched. The spears clashed, then bounced, then clashed again.
Ferry was amazed not by the strength of his opponent, but by the determination with which he attacked him, again and again. Soon, he got tired of always opposing. It was time to take control of the fight.
He pulled the reins of the horse, so that he was face to face with the small but brave fighter. The distance between them had increased now, so he could take the lead. He gave spurs to his horse and started towards his opponent faster than the wind. He hit the horse's belly with his heels, harder this time. Wind squealed, suddenly stopped his mad dash and stood up on two feet right in the middle of the arena. Ferry didn't even have time to come to his senses, because he woke up on the ground.
He stood up quickly, with the sky and the earth spinning around him and tried to figure out what just happened. Then he saw the small fighter rushing towards him, on foot, sword drawn. He barely had time to take out his sword, as it pounced on him. The swords crossed, the teeth gnashed, but Ferry managed to push his opponent who lost his balance and almost fell to the ground. Ferry barely had time to restore his position, as the little fighter pounced on him again, this time even more viciously. He struck again and again until Ferry began to retreat, step by step. Then he felt how suddenly the earth flew from under his feet and he fell to the ground, a cloud of dust rising above him. He wanted to get up, but he felt the tip of his opponent's sword sting his neck.
After a few seconds of silence, in which everything seemed to have gone numb, a tumult of voices flooded the arena. Then cheers and shouts filled the air. The fight was over. Ferry had lost.
He got up from the ground and removed his helmet. He held out his hand to the fighter, as dirty as he was. When his opponent removed his helmet in turn, Ferry thought he couldn't see well because of the fatigue or the fog that was still floating around them like a soft and warm cloud. In front of him there stood... Matilda. Her armor was no longer shiny. The hair braided in a bun had come off in strands that were falling on her face. Her beautiful face, even if now dirty with sweat and dust, was sad. Then she looked at him in a certain way and Ferry felt a stab in his heart, more painful than ever.
In the amalgam that was created around them, where the cries of astonishment or disappointment mingled with the victorious ones, Ferry would have wanted to be swallowed by the ground. Or simply disappear. Only not to see Matilda's gaze.
But soon, her gaze turned cold and the girl passed by him as if he were the lowest man. Or maybe that's what he really was at that moment.
What happened next was a blur for Ferry. He saw Raghnall approaching, then motioning for him to remove his armor, but his words melted in the surrounding light. He was then led to his place, between Thyme and Lord Stephan whom he did not dare look at. Instead, he looked straight ahead at the battles that continued to take place in the arena, but without seeing or hearing anything. Why had Matilda behaved like that? Why did she want to humiliate him in front of everyone? Didn't she care? Didn't she care at all?
Ferry clenched his fists. The last thing he needed right now was to cry in front of everyone. But suddenly, he realized that he didn't have time for that. The shouts and noise had stopped. Something was happening in the arena in front of him.
He raised his head from the ground and looked up. Sage and Stot were sword-fighting. In front of everyone, he saw how blood flowed from Stot's arm, wounded by Sage's sword. TStot's red blood.
Thank you for being here! I can't stop marveling at your love for this story. Hope you enjoyed this chapter and you'll join Ferry (and me) to the many adventures ahead. Love lots!