“CONTESTANTS, GATHER!”
In the next ten minutes, it will be decided.
The time is now. This is the moment that I prove my worth, seize the future, and secure the fate of Krasta for all posterity.
This is for you, Ophelia. This is for you, Keendelle.
I walk down the length of the tunnel, emerge into the light, and enter the battlefield for the fate of Celestia.
The roar of the crowd is deafening. Their voices rumble in my chest and have my ears ringing. The stadium is packed from wall to wall, even the standing room taken up shoulder-to-shoulder. The shrieks and cries of the women for Kharu blend in with the men’s whistling and cheering for Emilia. The other two contestants, a brother and sister pair, have their own fan section dressed in blue around the rim of the stadium. The fervor of the fans is deserved; this is a momentous occasion, and the feeling of thousands of people watching only heightens the intense emotions of the moment.
I glance at the royal viewing box, noting my father, Mina, and Aurelio sitting together. I scoff and look away from the latter; I don’t want to see his stupid face right now. If he cannot understand the gravity of the situation, then I’m not obligated to teach him.
He is a tool in my game, after all. A tool I care about very deeply, but will distance myself from if necessary.
“Contestants, at the ready!” Eren booms.
I draw my sword at my side. Glancing to my left and my right, I realize I am in the very center of an arc of contestants, positioned the furthest away from the opposition. That opponent prepares herself in dramatic fashion, twirling her sword in one hand while she spins her dagger in the other. Her eyes, the mirror image of mine, bore into my head from across the clearing. Her hair may be tied back into a magnificent braid, and her armor decorated and glimmering in the sunlight where mine is absent, but we stand the same height, and I’m sure my expression is reflecting hers.
Daelia awaits me.
I can’t wait to knock her down a few pegs. My naïve sister will at last learn the unfairness of the world firsthand.
I hope you’re watching, Atena.
“BEGIN!”
My four comrades charge in without hesitation, closing in on Daelia within a matter of seconds. Although it is a four on one, Daelia makes quick work of the brother and sister pair, narrowing it down to Kharu and Emilia. While the medical team rushes into the arena to grab the injured, I slowly, methodically, prowl around the edge, eyeing the way Daelia handles Kharu and Emilia like a pair of toy dolls. For all Kharu’s strength, Dealia can parry his every attack; for all Emilia’s speed, Daelia can outmaneuver her. Her footwork is magical, and her strikes are picture-perfect. Daelia is the image of perfection in swordsmanship.
The only problem? Her heart is far too soft.
After five intense minutes, Kharu and Emilia finally fall to a stunning double-handed attack by my sister. Emilia is thrown clear out of the arena, and Kharu collapses to the cobblestone floor, concussed. The crowd roars its approval.
“DAELIA! DAELIA! DAELIA! DAELIA!”
Their chanting fills me with joy. The more love the audience holds for my opponent, the more thrilling the victory will be. I can imagine their faces going slack when my sister finally falls at my feet, surrendering Celestia’s ideals to me. The identity of our country must be upheld by the strong, not the weak-minded idealists that know nothing of the world.
Dealia wipes the sweat from her forehead, relaxing her stance while she waits for me to approach. I cease my leisurely walk around the arena, my heart beating harder and harder as I approach her. The thrill of the fight seeps into my very bones. After weeks of training, preparing, and steeling my mind, I am ready. I am ready to truly take the throne.
When I charge at Daelia, I expect her to be ready; she blocks my attack easily, giving me a moment to be nose to nose with my sister. She glares daggers at me.
“I hope you enjoy your pointless game, Alessia,” she snarls.
“Oh, I’m enjoying this thoroughly,” I say, smirking.
Daelia swipes at me with her dagger, but I am more than prepared for the attack. I dance out of the way, slamming my fist into her stomach on the way out. Daelia, as expected, doesn’t react, instead taking the opportunity to kick at my knees. I jump straight up to avoid the attack, swipe at her with my sword, and attempt to stomp on her as she performs a flawless backbend to avoid the blow. Somehow, by some divine blessing or dumb luck, she flips out of the way and lands on her feet.
“DAELIA! DAELIA!”
“ALESSIA! ALESSIA!”
The crowd continues to divide its cheers as we continue our fight. It becomes more of a dance than a battle as our footwork inspires awe in the crowd. With sweat dripping down our backs, our swords soaring through the air, we magnificently dodge, strike, and parry, round and round in a never-ending cycle. I’m having more fun than when I took on the quest to destroy the orc village. Daelia is truly a formidable opponent, worthy of my greatest efforts.
If only we could agree, this fight would never have to happen in the first place. But if I’m being honest, I’m glad we’re fighting it out. This is the first time in my life I truly feel pressed to give it my all in battle. One slip-up, and I’d fall to her sword. With one opportunity, I can seize victory. The scales are balanced for now, but even the slightest tilt will end this match.
“Give up, Daelia!” I laugh. “There’s no need to make a fool of yourself in front of the entire kingdom!”
“SHUT UP!” Daelia roars.
