The Lover's Duel

Two characters from my fantasy series, The Elincian Chronicles, are pitted against each other in a fight. The outcome of their battle is not what one would expect.

Princess Elyse was an intimidating sight. Whether in battle armor or her battle training outfit, which consisted of an alarmingly small amount of fabric. She was wearing black athletic shorts and a sports bra the same color.

When she dresses like this, you could see almost every one of the scars she’d ever earned. Along her calves were the wrinkled burn scars from my snow. Granted that was when I had no clue I’d end of loving her, but that was beside the point. On her right side you could see the large stab wound from the Great Battle that ended the War over the Flame Throne. I assumed that if you were standing behind her you could see the scar along her shoulder where she been cut with a poisoned blade.

Naturally, to her nature-as a princess and a warrior- she was putting on a show before her attack. She was letting fire dance up and down her arms, lava bubbling at her bare feet.

Suddenly her fire cut out and she began to tread across the arena. She still walked with a slight limp-regardless of all of Maria’s efforts-she wasn’t the perfect princess.

I followed suit and began walking towards her, my toes curling at the contrast of the cold pavement I’d been standing on to the hot desert sands in the arena.  

As she strode across the arena, loose strands of her golden brown hair fluttered in the wind. Her hair was coiled in a tight knot at the nape of her neck. She looked equally gorgeous, regal, and terrifying as she walked confidently towards me.

We were being forced to face each other in a public battle to see who would claim the spot at the top of the fighting leaderboards. The two of us had been scrabbling for it all year, but had refused to face each other.

I assumed her father had his hand in this. He had put our relationship through many trials since some of the hybrids had revolted. He thought his daughter unsafe being with me. Regardless of the fact that her mother adored me.

As we neared the center of the arena I could see her true feelings-portrayed through, in her words “these blasted eyes.” They were mostly crimson-the color of courage and determination-but I could see the flecks of black-fear-and purplish blue-doubt. It comforted me some that she was worried about facing me, but it didn’t bring me enough to stop myself from what I had planned to do.

When the two of us reached the center of the arena, I grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her to me. She stumbled towards me, ramming her head into my chest. I wrapped my arms around her and she stiffened at me touch. I didn’t give her time to relax against me before I had released her.

I cleared my throat and then my voice rang out across the coliseum, “I, Nathaniel Ashford, publicly withdraw from the duel. I will face all of the consequences that this will bring.”

Withdrawing from a duel was no small affair. I would be sent to the bottom of the leaderboard, fail the class for the year, and would always have a black cloud hovering over and physical-related job application.

I looked at Elyse-who wasn’t bothering to hide her true emotions- her face was shocked but quickly twisted back into the regal face of the princess she was.

She turned to face the royal box, I assumed to make sure her father heard her loud and clear, and them practically roared, “I, Elyse Anastats, acknowledged that you have withdrawn from this duel, but you will not suffer any of the consequences. As a Princess of Elincia, I have the right to pardon any person I see worthy of it. I chose to use a royal pardon and you. You will remain second in the leaderboard, will keep your current grade, and will never face the black mark on any job application. You will also revived the Claddagh Honor. This honor can only be bestowed upon a person of royal blood’s suitor who has proved they will protect their princess at all costs. And as your princess, I do believe you are more than deserving of it.”

Every Flame Princess was trained to draw the symbol of Claddagh, but few had the chance to do so. Or the resources, it was quite hard to singe a Flame. Unless they were half Nivalis.

I knew what she was about to do would hurt like the wrath of Aeron, but I didn’t care. I had been given the Claddagh Honor, a thing few suitors could say.

Elyse grabbed my left arm, the one that could wield ice, and carefully burned the two hands holding a crowned heart into my forearm. I winced every time her finger moved, but I refused to show weakness in front of the majority of the kingdom.

Once Elyse drew her finger away half of the arena erupted into cheers, while the other half gave off angry murmurs.

Elyse steeled her face, to prevent it from showing how pleased she was at angering her father, I glanced down at my arm. It was covered in blood and was pricking in pain, but beautiful nonetheless.

After glaring at her family for an angry moment she extended her hand to me and said, “Shall we?”

We laced our fingers and walked out of the arena, even more united than we’d been before.

Author's Note

Please feel free to critique me about anything in this story. It would be greatly appreciated.