Knighthood

As soon as Goleil began his exercise, he saw that many knights took note of him. A rare few began to watch intently, as they too were polearm wielders. He could hear their whispers.

"I've never seen such a beautiful and deadly style! Each strike flows into the next, and some combinations should be impossible..." One halberd-wielder whispered to his squire, "This man... I must learn all I can from him..."

One man with a savage-looking mace hanging from his hip watched him intently as if stunned. He was clad in a different armor than the rest of the knights, his helmet adorned with a torse or twisted fabrics with the colors purple and white. The fabric hung from the torse around his head, like a hood.

Soon, he had no shortage of challengers, but one man, in particular, arrived far before the rest. He wore full plate armor and a great helm on his head. With no tabard or shield, it was impossible to tell what heraldry the man was from, but Goleil wouldn't have cared either way.

He stopped showcasing his weapon arts and turned to the man. Many watching intently realized they'd been entranced and began hurrying towards Goleil, adding to his potential challengers even further.

They stared at each other for a moment. The knight in front of Goleil carried a long sword with him, though slightly longer than what Goleil usually saw.

"Are you prepared to die?" Goleil asked.

The man in front of him chuckled. "I am Sir Se'eray Dagerlund of Redvale, and I've never seen you here. I propose to duel you if only to test your might."

Goleil nodded. "I am Guardsman Goleil of Vrea, and I accept your proposal."

A ripple went through the crowd, especially the knights. Had this man not been knighted? It was impossible. And how was it that a Vrean stood before them when they should all be dead?

They looked at him again.

No... it couldn't be. That golden tabard had held a flame on the back. And he had called himself a Guardsman.

A chill went down their spines.

Sir Dagerlund stepped into the arena, his every muscle alive with excitement. If what this man had said was correct... this might actually be his last battle.

The tournament fields were silent, and some spectators were confused about what was happening.

A duel in the exercise fields is what caused all this? What happened to all the tests of strength, the races, and trials of courage?

The knights had all stopped, staring breathlessly at the two men that stood before each other.

Duels usually had some referee, someone to call points. No man stood forward; no man even breathed.

The two combatants went into a combat stance, Dagerlund grasping his longsword with both hands at his waist.

Goleil placed his feet apart, his right hand above his head, his left hand at shoulder level. It was an aggressive stance, perfect for single combat. The glaive tip was pointed directly at Sir Se'eray's eye level, distorting his sense of distance.

With the range difference, Goleil had an absolute advantage over his opponent that was not easily taken away.

Until now, Goleil had been slow but powerful, more decisive than dangerous.

Suddenly, the tip that had been over a meter away was right in front of Dagerlund's face. He had barely enough time to tilt his head to the side before the tip slammed into his head.

It had struck right above his eye and scraped along the side of his helm as he narrowly avoided being concussed.

His breath was shaky as he jumped back and out of reach, and his hands shook.

In front of him was no knight. A saying he had heard his father say right before he died flashed once more in his mind.

'Be not afraid, for it is merely death who stands before you.' His father's dying words, but why now?

Sir Dagerlund felt afraid. He felt fear like he had only felt once in his life.

Goleil sighed. 'I am out of practice; it's been too long since I held a weapon. That should've gone straight into his eye.' He thought.

Ty'Bral materialized behind him. "What are you trying to do, kill him?"

Goleil answered by closing the distance again, sending a thrust that seemed to shockwave towards Sir Dagerlund's shoulder.

The knight was paying more attention this time, and he saw it coming this time.

Even so, the tip narrowly scraped along his pauldron as he barely dodged, and the glaive was retracted before he could counter.

Another thrust, this time screaming towards his lower torso. It seemed slower to Dagerlund; maybe he could finally get in close!

He prepared to parry the spear to the side and counter at Goleil's helmet. But suddenly, the spear was rocketing up towards his helmet.

A feint?!

The blade slammed into his helmet, cratering it and sending him onto his back, the helmet flying off.

He looked up towards Goleil and saw those golden eyes staring back. After the Guardsman had thrust, he had stepped in again and used his arms to leverage a massive uppercut with his glaive.

Se'eray realized he had never stood a chance. The man before him was a monster, not a mere knight.

He had doubted he came from Vrea, but now he had no doubts. The man standing before him was the last Vrean and Sun Guard. He hadn't believed the rumors but wouldn't doubt if the man was a King.

Goleil extended his hand to Dagerlund and said, "You fought well, but you've much to learn." His deep voice sent a shiver down the spines of those present, his already deep voice reverberating within the helmet.

Sir Dagerlund took his hand and stood up. A line of red blood seeped down his face, and he realized that Goleil had cut him as the helmet had come off.

"Thank you, Goleil of Vrea. You've taught me many things, so do not hesitate to call upon me if you need help with anything."

With his head held high, he retrieved his helmet and left the Colosseo.

Goleil looked out over the sea of knights and squires. "Would anyone else like to duel me?"

The crowd began to look at each other, and no one was willing to step up to the exercise pad.

"I am willing." One voice said and began walking towards Goleil.

Goleil recognized him, the one who wielded a mace and dressed with a peculiar style utterly foreign to him.

"I have heard stories about the legendary Sun Guard, but I never thought I wouldst meet one in person." He said. Goleil could feel the excitement in the air increase as the others recognized the new challenger.

Mord began hopping in place. "Oh man, this is awesome!"

As the knight stepped onto the exercise pad, he drew his mace, and his squire handed him his shield. It was shaped like a kite and could protect most of the knight's upper body.

Goleil looked into the helmet and could see the man's green eyes as they stared at each other, neither in a combat stance.

"I am Sir Khalid bin Walid of Adal. I warn thou, Vrean, I am far more skilled than Dagerlund. Art thou prepared to die?" He asked, using Goleil's own words.

Goleil stared at the man and entered the same combat stance he had used against Sir Dagerlund.

"I will show you what it means to go against a Sun Guard, traitorous Adalian. I pray to the Flame that you are prepared to meet the consequences of your people's actions."