The Taco Dilemma

Chapter One:

Jaron gripped his sword and held it high. He stared at Roden with amusement, for the great fool/king had insulted Roden at the dinner table not an hour ago which (not surprisingly) had ended up in a sword fight.

"My taco was better and there's nothing you can do to change that!" Roden glared at Jaron with extreme disgust.

"Well at least you have the satisfaction of thinking it was better in your eyes." Jaron grinned, refreshing the grip on his sword.

Roden groaned. "Your taco was practically drenched in sour cream, your ingredients were drowning in that filth, my taco was better!"

"Oh yeah? Well, my little potato, you were in the wrong. You left out all the vegetables! All the other ingredients were all alone and you did nothing about it. My taco was better, and still is!"

Jaron was beyond angry as he lunged at Roden, sword ready. Roden yelped and ducked, causing Jaron to dive over him and crash onto Roden's legs. "N-no! I refuse to believe your lies! My taco was..Better! You had a dirty, hard shell. Whereas mine had a nice soft tortilla." Roden scrambled to his feet and advanced on Jaron, who was, at the moment, still lying down sprawled across the ground. Roden got a good, hard swipe at Jaron's shoulder.

Jaron shouted a long line of curses and quickly got up. "You coward! Wait until your very handsome opponent gets up!" He swung his sword and found his target, right in Roden's gut.

"Gaah!" Roden screamed like a girl. "My vegetables could breathe in that shell. And I couldn't allow the servant's hard work to go to waste." Roden glared at Jaron as a small tear trickled down his cheek. A tear of anger.

Blood gushed from the stab, and far too much. Though any sane person would resign from a fight with a wound that severe, Roden was not one of those people. Jaron had deeply offended him, which hurt worse than any injury could. And so, though the sting of the stab sent searing pain throughout his entire body, he wiped away his tear and tightened the grip on his sword.

"You will never insult my taco again." Roden said in a powerful voice. "My taco will always, always be better."

Jaron, who at first looked deeply guilty and worried at Roden's stab wound, now returned Roden's icy stare and stuck out his jaw. "So you want to continue this?"

Roden clenched his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Of course I do. My tortilla was beautiful. The best in Carthya. You cannot say--"

Running footsteps interrupted Roden. They whirled around to see who was coming and both groaned when they recognized him as Tobias. They waited for him to reach them, which took several moments due to Tobias' frequent tripping on the grass.

Finally, Tobias got to them, but was still huffing and puffing like he just ran a marathon. "Jaron! I need help on my jigsaw puzzle! It's really tricky and--" He stopped short as soon as he saw Roden's wound and his eyes grew wide as saucers.

Jaron pointed at Roden the same time Roden poked Jaron's shoulder. "MY TACO WAS BETTER THAN HIS!!!" They screamed in unison. A groan escaped Roden's lips before he tumbled to the ground.

Tobias rushed to Roden's side. His eyes widened with absolute horror as he lifted Roden's shirt to further examine the wound. "What happened?" He gasped.

"Jaron stabbed me..." Roden grimaced.

Tobias whirled around to face Jaron, who only shrugged in response. "He'll be fine."

Tobias shook his head. "No, he's dying! I need to get this bleeding under control!" He tried to prop Roden up, but Roden brushed him away.

"Let me die as a martyr. My death will be the proof that my taco was and always shall be better." He mumbled.