Indra guided the group to the back of the manor, where an expansive training ground presented itself. Weapons of all sorts lay upon racks, but spears were of the greatest supply. Indra halted and looked at Eitan with glinting eyes. "So, how shall we go about this? Two on two? Or single duels?"
Eitan glanced at the two behind him before meeting Indra's gaze. "Single duels will be fine."
"So it shall be then!" Indra clapped his hands, and two men promptly jogged over. Both carried spears and wore knight uniforms. Indra smiled at Eitan, but his eyes were on Agni and Farrel. "Now, who is up first?"
Eitan answered for them. "Agni. You go."
Agni's eyes widened slightly, but then a razor-sharp smile cut through his expression. "Yes, sir." He stepped forward, one hand eagerly gripping the hilt of the broadsword on his back.
Indra motioned with his eyes at one of the spear-wielders, and the two took to the arena. Once centered, the opposing knight raised his spear in salute. "Nile Thorne, knight of Mirthow."
"Agni Jescon of Saorise." Demonstrating his noble upbringing, Agni unsheathed his sword and naturally returned the salute.
"Both sides ready? Begin!" Indra loudly proclaimed with a swipe of his hand.
A spear was instantly thrust out. Then, a grating sound of metal upon metal as Agni firmly redirected it. Nile wasn't frazzled and smoothly swung his spear back around, targeting Agni's side.
Agni's body tilted, causing the strike to narrowly miss. Nile pulled back every so slightly to ready another strike, and Agni didn't pass up the opportunity. He leaped forward, broadsword brandished wide ahead of him. Another clash of steel as Nile met sword with spear.
Undeterred, Agni ferociously pressed forward, intent on not allowing the opponent any space to maneuver. In contrast, Nile was forced to respond to the fierce strikes while attempting to regain the distance that brought him the advantage.
But how could a wolf so easily allow its prey to escape? Every time Nile attempted a wider swing to push Agni away, the man would instead duck and press in further whenever possible.
The match went on, and Nile's breath had become noticeably labored. The man's expression hardened, and he suddenly thrust the spear, the force behind it even greater than before. Agni met the blow with the flat of his sword, but he was pushed back, leaving skid marks in the ground where his feet dug in.
Nile's spear twisted, shifting to target Agni's chest with remarkable speed. Agni's eyes narrowed, and instead of backing off further, he dropped to the ground and rolled. A donkey roll. Not something seen in these noble duels. Nile's eyes widened, and in his pause of shock, Agni had already popped back up to his feet, and the tip of his sword went straight for the opponent's neck.
Nile hurriedly swung his spear to deflect the blow, but Agni easily knocked it back and pressed on. That was it. The edge of Agni's broadsword hovered next to Nile's neck, and his spear halted mid-arc.
A sound of applause carried through the air, and Eitan detached his gaze from the arena to look at the source. Indra clapped one final time, expression beaming as though it were not his knight who had just lost. "What a fierce sword." The man praised as Agni sheathed his blade.
Agni looked over at Eitan, lips curled up with satisfaction. Eitan gave him an approving nod, and only then did Agni glance at Indra. "Thanks for the compliment." He responded bluntly as he came back over to Eitan's side.
Nile also walked over, the tip of his spear now levelled at the ground. He gave Indra a light bow. "It seems my training has been insufficient, my apologies." He straightened out and looked at Agni. "It was a good match."
Agni made a grunt of acknowledgment. Indra waved him off with a smile, although there was now a certain gravity to his gaze. "One should always give their all. Being beaten today just shows there is more to be done."
"I will commit your words to heart." Niles bowed deeply before stepping back. He inclined his head slightly towards Eitan before moving to the side.
Eitan also couldn't help but show a look of appreciation at the words. It was rather close to the creed he lived by, after all. Do your best and never give up. A simple yet difficult way to live life, but it was this resolve that carried him through two.
"Shall we be on to the next match?" Indra remarked as more of a statement than a question.
Eitan quickly adjusted his expression back to normal and nodded. "Farrel."
Farrel stepped forward, right hand resting on the hilt of his longsword. Indra's eyes ran over him and lingered noticeably before moving to his own knight. "Fight well. Don't take it easy."
Eitan's brow slightly rose as the knight bowed in acknowledgment. He made eye contact with Farrel, and his lips curled up. "I suppose I should tell you the same, then?"
Farrel's gaze grew more intense, and he crossed his arm over his chest, bowing deeply. "I shall bring you victory, my liege."
"There wasn't all this fuss when it was my turn." Agni's grumbles caused Eitan's mouth to twitch.
However, his expression didn't crack. He stared at Farrel for a moment before nodding. "Go on, then."
Farrel stood up straight and walked to the center of the arena, where the other knight had already taken his place. He saluted with his spear and made the standard greeting. "Slade Estone, knight captain of Mirthow."
Farrel's stolid expression didn't shake in the least upon hearing such. He merely withdrew his longsword and returned the salute. "Farrel Falker." He had no fancy introduction and quietly readied his sword. He had once held the title of knight captain as well, but he had long abandoned such things. All that remained now was his name and duty to his liege.
"Begin!" Indra's voice clearly fell over the arena.
However, unlike before, there was no sudden clash. Both men merely kept their eyes trained upon the other, tips of weapons unwavering. Palpable tension filled the air, just waiting to be cut.
Then cut it was. Slade made the first move, spear twisting out at the opponent. Farrel easily deflected and returned a slash of his own. Similar exchanges repeated in a matter of breaths, before a sudden stillness descended. It seemed as though time froze for a brief moment, and the two men made eye contact. Spear and sword then lashed out in sync, each far sharper than before. The probing was over; now the real fight began.
Slade's grip on the spear shifted forward as Farrel closed in. He alternated between slashes and thrusts at an extraordinary speed, meeting the longsword blow for blow. However, as he made a particularly wide swing, Farrel's eyes glinted. Farrel ducked just below the trajectory, the spear's sharp edge slicing off a piece of gray hair. His sword shot upward, nicking Slade's side before the man jumped back. A bit of crimson leaked out, staining the torn edges of the once pristine uniform.
Both men steadied their stance, and Slade's eyes darted to Indra. Seeing the subtle smile on the blond man's lips, his gaze hardened as it shifted back to Farrel. "You are strong. As my lord instructed, I will fight at my best." As he finished those words, a pale blue glow enveloped the spearhead.
Farrel remained silent, but a white aura emerged over his own blade in kind. Slade's eyes shone with faint surprise, but it quickly faded as the clash resumed. Now that auras were ignited, the duel was even more intense than before. Sparks flew as weapons struck and retreated faster than the average human's eye could track. Blue and white intertwined as if in a deadly dance.
Eitan watched on with an odd shine in his eyes. Slade, was it? His skills are beyond expected what is for a border barony like this. But even with this, there wasn't even a hint of tension in him about the results of the duel. Farrel was, after all, someone who had managed to force his way through a county's troops and kill the heir. Even if it resulted in his own death as well, the achievement still stood.
Eitan's focus was drawn back to the duel as a loud clang reverberated through the air. Farrel had successfully parried and pushed out Slade's spear, breaking the opponent's stance. Not allowing any time to recover, Farrel's longsword flew forward, sharp point halting a hair's breadth from Slade's trachea. A pinpoint of blood surfaced and trickled down under the white aura.
Spearhead lowered to the ground, blue aura extinguishing. "I lost," Slade conceded gracefully.
Only then did the white glow around Farrel's sword dissipate, and he acknowledged his opponent with a short nod. He pulled back his blade, and the aura had eliminated any traces of blood, so he returned it directly to its sheath.
Slade stepped off the arena, going to Indra and bowing with spear held straight by his side. "Apologies, my lord."
Indra had not moved or spoken since the end of the duel, an unreadable expression hanging over his face. But a smile lightened his features at Slade's words, although his stormy eyes held a profound heaviness. "It was a worthy defeat. Use this experience to strive harder in the future. Now, go get yourself cleaned up."
Slade lowered his head in gratitude and left to bandage his wounds. Just as he made way, Farrel approached. He took a knee before Eitan, bright golden gaze directed upwards. "I have brought victory, my liege." A smile flickered across his lips; a rare public display of emotion. But, he couldn't help it. This was technically Farrel's first official act as Eitan's knight. He was already content to serve in Eitan's shadows, but to openly and successfully bring honor to his liege filled Farrel's empty chest with no end of pride and joy.
"You did well," Eitan briefly rested a hand upon Farrel's shoulder, returning a pleased smile. "Rise."
Farrel stood tall and returned to his place by Eitan's side. He glanced over a bit to see Agni subtly providing him with a thumbs-up. Farrel's lips cracked into a half-smile, half-smirk, and he faintly waved his hand. Agni's eyes widened slightly, apparently not having expected an acknowledgement. But the two settled as Indra's voice came over.
"I must admit, I am rather shocked, Lord Eitan," Indra spoke with a light-hearted chuckle. "I hadn't expected you to bring a knight capable of defeating my captain. Perhaps I should be ashamed."
Eitan inwardly scrutinized the man, but outwardly put on a gracious smile. "You flatter me. Sir Slade's skills have left me greatly impressed," he paused and glanced at Farrel with gratification. "It is merely my great luck to have found such a wonderful knight."
"Oh? Found?" Indra lifted an eyebrow as he caught the keyword.
Eitan chuckled slightly. "That's right. Farrel is someone I picked up from the slums before coming to Saorise." He explained concisely but vaguely. It was no good to expose Farrel's background so easily.
Indra's eyes flickered at this, and his lips upturned. "I see. Then you are quite lucky indeed."
Eitan hummed in acknowledgment while his eyes narrowed slightly. There had been a near imperceptible shift in Indra's vivacious demeanor, but Eitan didn't have the time to figure out exactly what it was before being hit with a startling proposal.
"Well, now that the knights have had their fun, what do you think about us lords stepping up?" It was said so casually that Eitan took a moment to question his ears.
Eitan stared at Indra with mild uncertainty. "Baron Mirthow, you surely don't mean you wish to duel with me, do you?" He couldn't help but attempt to clarify.
Indra smiled brightly. "Naturally! Don't tell me your blood isn't boiling after watching such clashes?"
Eitan didn't reply immediately. He hesitated to openly admit it, but he was right. Watching such battles made Eitan's fingers itch to draw his own sword. It had been too long. Far too long since he had a proper face-off, the best he got was sparring with Farrel on occasion. But even then, going against such a restrained opponent was a far cry from the blood-rushing battles he craved.
"I didn't bring my weapon," a partial lie. Eitan brought his dagger, but had indeed not armed himself with his shortsword. Doing so would be considered highly irregular, after all. Who could have guessed that he'd be facing someone who seemed to revel in such irregularities?
Indra's expression didn't drop in the least. "That is hardly an issue," he said, spreading his arms wide. "As you can see, we are not lacking in supply."
Eitan's gaze travelled over the various weapon racks in the area. "You believe I can provide a worthy effort?" He questioned testingly. Although his appearance was no longer the frail young master of before, Eitan certainly looked no warrior either. He was young, and with a slight build and pretty face, few would look at him and expect a fight.
Indra let out a short laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling while a piercing gaze levelled on the younger lord. "Should we duel, I think I shall be surprised again."
Eitan's mind worked quickly, and soon, his mouth twisted into a half-smirk. "I hope the baron won't be disappointed, then."
Indra's face lit up. "Please take your pick of the provided weapons." He urged before striding over and seemingly without much care, selected a standard spear for himself.
Eitan observed him briefly before scanning the racks and eventually deciding on a suitable shortsword for himself. He gripped the hilt and swung it about a few times before heading over to the arena where Indra awaited.
"Would you like to have your knight be the overseer?" Indra asked lightly.
"Thank you for your consideration." Eitan dipped his head and gestured for Farrel to come over.
As the knight stepped up, the two faced off, and Eitan noticed that Indra's demeanor had entirely shifted. The perpetual smile had been wiped off his face, and bright eyes were trained on Eitan's every movement. He saluted Eitan dignifiedly. "Indra Mirthow of the Mirthow Barony."
Eitan raised the shortsword, amaranth eyes ignited. "Eitan Reidar of the Saorise Region."
Greetings complete, Farrel raised his arm. "Begin." A distinct proclamation, signaling the final duel.