Mortance: A Miscarriage of Hope

Angus Ⅰ

Steel rang against steel as I flexed my fingers and drew my sword against my opponent. The dull blade glowed in winter's cold sunlight. Across from me, Ser Jon, lord commander of Sacreon's armies, steadied a practice sword of his own. Keep your defenses up, I reminded myself. Wait for the opportune moment... then strike.

"Best of luck to you, my prince," my opponent said to me before we began, "you'll need it."

"I could say the same to you," I smiled. "Victory shall be mine." 

"They all say that," Ser Jon lowered the visor on his helm and stepped towards me. I dropped into a defensive position in response. "Then they lose."

"Not this time."

The first strike came directly at my face. I brushed it aside with little difficulty, and he only hit empty air. Ser Jon recovered quickly, and he was on me again. Block, parry, dodge, I remembered my defensive techniques well. Each one came into use as I fought Ser Jon. He tried an overhead strike, and the sound of our blades connecting rang out across the courtyard. His sword swung towards my head from the side, but I ducked beneath it with ease. At first, there was little he could do to reach me, but that soon began to change.

Ser Jon staggered back as I countered another of his attacks, leaving him open, but I didn't press the advantage. "Stop playing around," he suddenly sounded irritated. I blocked his dull blade one, twice, thrice... but the fourth strike was strong enough to knock me backwards. I kept my footing, just barely, and Ser Jon was on me again before I had time to steady myself.

Block, parry, dodge, I reminded myself. Defend! The knight was almost too quick to follow. I was sweating in my armor, despite the cold, as I worked to keep up with the speed of his attacks. Ser Jon was relentless. One moment I blocked a strike from the right, the next he was coming from the left, and I had to rush to avoid a blow.

The dull training sword I fought with was not as balanced as my preferred blade, but Supremacy was too sharp for practice duels. Ser Jon would stand no chance against me with the right blade in my hand. But I'm not wielding the right blade, I remembered sadly. I'll have to fight hard to win this duel.

My opponent struck at me again, and I barely escaped once again. Almost there. Ser Jon swung again, the sword growing heavy in his arms. So close. The knight struck towards my head, and I used the momentum of the strike to move behind him. He turned to swing again, and the opportune moment arrived.

I met the sword of Ser Jon with a strike of my own, aiming to disarm him. He's not strong enough to hold on anymore, I thought. Our blades connected, and the sound of their meeting rang across the courtyard. Their force was so great that my own grip almost slipped, and I thought for sure that Ser Jon would've dropped his weapon. Instead, he took it in stride.

The lord commander of Saceon's armies moved with my force. He reversed the direction of his strike as it connected. With one swift move, my sword fell from my hands, and with another, I was at his mercy. "Well fought, my prince," Ser Jon said. "But it seems you have lost this battle."

"If I had Supremacy-"

"But you didn't, and so you lost."

The words stung, though not as much as the ice-cold steel I was wearing. Ser Jon was right, I had to be able to fight with any blade as well as I fought with my own. "Let me try again," I said, wiping sweat from my brow.

"I cannot, I have higher duties to fulfill," the knight said. "Besides, it looks like someone is here to see you." He gestured past me.

A man I vaguely recognized was waving to me from the edge of the courtyard. "Another time?" I asked Ser Jon.