Truths from the Past: Book 5 of the Kinstone series
Chapter 37: The Match

I push off of the pillar and walk back into the center of the ring, staring at my opponent. He’s a good head taller than me with a slightly athletic build. Fennec is handsome, but…nah, even if I were single, he’s really not my type.

I quickly look to my arms, seeing that I’m still wearing my Han Kote. I pan over to Axana. “I have a question for you ma’am.”

She tilts her head slightly in confusion, either trying to comprehend why a sixteen-year-old girl is talking to her as an equal, or why I’m holding up the match. She shakes her head, regaining her composure. “Ask away, my dear child.”

I hold up my arms, showing my gauntlets, “Is it alright that I’m wearing armor?”

The woman studies them for moment before shaking her head, “I have no qualms with it.”

I nod then turn my attention back onto Fennec.

He smiles as he slowly draws his rapier. “You truly are a lovely young girl. I would be very much like to show you around the city, visiting its ‘finer’ aspects.” His smile broadens into a grin, “Since you are merely a ward of Shyair, perhaps I could take you away and have you become my consort.”

I feel several nerves twitch and throb in my temples. The balls on this guy. I’ve been told a lot of things by stuck-up, pretentious jerks in the past but this takes the cake. I know this is a different time, but geezus. I take a deep breath and calm myself.

I glance over to Serasfall and Celes, each with beet-red faces as they fume at the man. Both women seem ready to smack some respect into him, if not downright kill him. This also garners the ire of both Fenris and Athena as I watch them quickly rise to their feet and growl at him.

I roll my eyes and wave my hands at them to settle down. He’s just being an ass, nothing new to me.

Seeing how his comments are producing the desired effect he lightly twirls the tip of the sword. This is a rather uncouth sign of frustration and anxiousness for duelists. Mom really hammered that lesson into me.

“Draw your weapon,” he says.

I roll my shoulders feeling them pop as I then sweep my right foot back and draw my bokken. I know I’m still a little tired from my match with Piotr, but I have more than enough energy to deal with Fennec.

He smirks, “Are you going to fight me with a stick?”

I smile, “This ‘stick’ is more than match for your sword. If you were really watching my session earlier you’d seen that.”

He sniffs, holding his sword to his face. “Then prove it.”

I smile, glancing over to Serasfall.

She nods, “Begin.”

Fennec swipes his sword down as he charges towards me. I crouch low, watching him slice upwards. I in turn block his strike with my bokken, batting it away while still in my spin. He in turn spins to match my rotation and swings downwards. Again I bat away his attack with my sword, listening to the thin metal clack off of the wood.

We step back a moment, looking at each other. A good start, with each gauging the other’s initial abilities. We then nod and resume with him thrusting and slicing and me blocking and countering his moves.

My eyes track his movements as we step around the circle, attacking and countering. His attacks are precise and swift, nearly a blur yet I still am able to keep up with him. He’s nowhere near as good as duelist as Mom was. Granted she had centuries on him.

Our little steps slowly evolve into a dance, with moves and countermoves. He slashes and thrusts yet again, with me blocking each and answering with my own, always a step in sync with him.

Fennec then spins and slices across, only to have me catch his blade with the butt of my pummel. It’s a move that catches everyone by surprise, even me. This particular block requires extreme focus and precision, not to mention being able to closely follow the flow of the blade. We struggle for a moment before pulling back and resuming once more.

He has several advantages over me, namely his height and reach. Both in of themselves are my greatest weaknesses, yet at the same time, my greatest strengths. My advantages are my small size but also my speed and agility. While I do have to get up super close to him, that leaves him fewer avenues of attack.

I lunge in close, attempting a feint strike at his chest. He slashes upwards, carrying my sword along with it, threatening to fly out of my hand given how strong he is. I grit my teeth as I tighten my grip, swinging back towards him. He again bats it way and spins, slashing towards me. I twirl my bokken so that it rests against my arm, catching his attack. The impact is enough to force me to dig my foot into the tiling a bit more before I am able to throw him off.

He slashes and thrusts with me dodging and blocking each attack, both spinning and hopping around. I then leap into the air, somersaulting over him, slashing down at his face.

He counters by thrusting upwards, knocking away my assault and carrying me along with it. He then curls his hand inward and slashes towards me. While still in mid-spin, I bring my left arm down and bat away his sword with my gauntlet, landing behind him.

I smile, sweeping low to strike at his legs. He slams his sword into the ground and catches mine. I glance up and see him smiling. I giggle softly, twirling my sword and attempt a pummel strike to his chin. Fennec quickly catches it with his bare hand, feeling him struggle slightly. He grins as we push against the other. This really is fun.

The match continues on for some time longer, finding his fame to be well-warranted. He continues to thrust and slash with me sweeping and blocking. However I slowly begin to feel something hidden within his swordsmanship, besides his growing frustration with me.

He then begins to switch between styles, trying to keep me off base. His typical slashes and thrusts turn a bit more vicious as with each missed or deflected blow he will quickly shift his hand and reverse the attack, aiming the tip of his sword straight towards my face. I counter by skating my blade against his, flipping it up and away.

This is a technique even Mom forbade herself from using, given how unsportsmanlike it is.

He stares me down as we spin with each other, his eyes shimmering like cold daggers while masked behind feigned calmness. We clash again, leaping around the circle, striking and meeting every blow.

My smile slowly fades away as I block spin his sword away again, I feel his grip wobbling. I feel a tinge of fear growing within his bladesmanship. I glance up at him, cocking my head ever so slightly.

What are you afraid of?

He slashes and thrusts at me again, spinning as I bat away his slashes and tries to grab for my arm with his free hand. I knock away his hand to which he then thrust his sword straight to my chest. I bend and peel away, watching the silvery tip pass harmlessly yet extremely close to the right side of my face.

This really is no longer any fun for me. Something is really bugging him and it's making his moves subtly frantic. It’s almost as though he’s supposed to win and I’m obviously preventing that. However there’s something more to it than that, something he’s worried about.

Normally I can discern a bit more while sparring with someone. While his subtle fear is evident, it has meaning beyond that, and that he’s trying to bury. I really don’t know if he’s also able to discern my feelings.

I glance over, seeing Serasfall and Celes both watching intently, no doubt worried with each move and attack that is made.

The match continues for a few agonizingly slow moments as we get into a swirling defensive move, to which I drive my bokken into the spin and twirl it out of his hand, skidding away several feet. He looks on stunned as I hold the tip of my sword up to him.

“Do you yield?” I ask. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He nods slowly, “I…yield.”

I nod as I run over and retrieve his sword, handing it to him. He reluctantly takes it, swiping down and sheathing it. I twirl mine doing the same. It’s a little flourish for both sides and a sign of the end of the match.

I smile, holding up my fist to him. This feels so much like my duel against Irina, fighting against someone, with this time being more to show of skill rather that honor and reputation. On the surface at least. In truth we both were fighting with our pride, something I figure Axana wanted to have over Serasfall.

He tilts his head in confusion. My smile warms, “It’s a sign of respect where I come from.”

While the latter stages of the match were slowly being tainted by his growing fear and his underhanded tactics, I truly loved sparring with him.

He nods slowly as he holds out his fist to me. I grin, fist-bumping him. Much like how I won against Irina, I extended a hand of friendship, hoping to quell any hostility between us.

That…unfortunately proved to be an utter disaster, given how she tried to kill me. Then nearly two years later, she along with Lana and Mistral, came to my house and tried to kill me again.

Here I’m hoping to have to opposite happen. Maybe not all of Nethune are evil corrupt jerks, wanting my family dead. Or…I’m just being hopelessly naïve.

I look to him, “If you ever want to come over and spar with me, I’d love to have you.”

His head bobs slowly and then turns, heading out of the ring. I curl an eyebrow, hoping he’d say something at least. He walks past his mother as servants begin to attend to him.

Axana tsks as she looks over to me. “I thank you for obliging my request, young lady. You truly are far more skilled than I first thought.” I bow softly to her.

She turns and looks to Serasfall. “Your little girl is something else.” She then walks off with Fennec and her servants in tow.

Serasfall and Celes both then come over to me. I sigh, crossing my arms, watching them leave.

“Are you all right, Aria?” asks Serasfall.

I smile to her, “I’m fine, just had some good fun fighting him. Fennec really is good, and kept me off base a few times during the match.” I peer over as the group finally leaves the yard. “However, during the match I was starting to feel fear from his blade.”

I tap my elbow, “I know he wanted to win, but something else was there and I wasn’t exactly making him feel any more confident.”

She tilts her head and pans over to them. “I do not know, my girl.” I nod.

Celes then starts looking me over, kneeling in front of me, and noting anything out of place. I giggle, “I said I was fine, Celes.”

She looks up, “It is my duty as your sister to make absolutely sure. While I know your bouts with the knights can become rather strenuous, this was an entirely different matter altogether.”

I blush softly as I look up to her mother. She smiles warmly, “I agree, for as your moth-…I mean guardian, I feel the same.”

I blush even more, this time to myself. I know I feel as though she’s becoming like a mother to me and even Rhea confirmed that she thinks of me as her daughter. But to openly say it, from either of us, might lead to something neither could take back. I glance at Celes who merely smiles to me.

I turn back towards where Axana and Fennec once were. The feeling of his fear still haunts me. Just what was he afraid of? Was really losing a match to me enough to cause that kind of reaction to me?

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