By the Sword

04 | What Was Done, Has Been Done

Caleb (left) and Albert (right)

***

The week whizzed its way like an arrow shot from its archer, and Aspen's heart gradually raced with great anticipation.

Tomorrow marked his first stage of the knights' trials, so there was no time to waste—timing was a precious commodity.

In the quarters Aspen had borrowed from the knights, a series of slashes, stabs and cuts lacerated the empty air as he performed the moves he had practiced endlessly. Ponderous thumps of his boots vibrated through the floors while his sole companion, Father's red cloak, danced with every maneuver. With a finishing blow, his sword pointed to no one in particular, perhaps the imaginary Prince Ira?

His heavy breaths was all Aspen could listen to, both his armor and sword clanked as his body collapsed into the floor. He promptly brushed off the copious—more like a waterfall—amount of sweat cascading down his hot cheeks. Surely the armor was bulky, but his muscles fortunately grew accustomed to them throughout his mock spars.

When his pants finally subdued, Aspen brought his sword into his vision, the blade, despite the abrasions decorating through the metal, reflected his weary brown eyes and reddened skin. They then traveled to the hilt, where the Elysian sigil of the soaring, white eagle was engraved into—the symbol of freedom and independence.

Aspen's mind immediately traversed to Prince Ira. If he remembered correctly, the prince was blessed with the rarest type of Wing possession, his public appearances had thus mesmerized countless civilians. Not only is he the best swordsman, but the best Renéi possessor, all in one package.

Such an elegant man, but a difficult opponent to defeat. He gripped on his sword as he stood back up. Well, I shall keep practicing—

Aspen's tiny hairs immediately erected as soon as the air behind him felt slightly odd, indicating he was not alone. His instincts had him swerved on his heels and aimed the sword... on his best friend.

"Whoa, whoa, it's just me." Rey grinned, raising both of his hands. "Getting better at detecting sneaky opponents, heh?"

"Rey..." Aspen sighed heavily, lowering down his blade. "You're finished with your council work?"

"I was taking a bathroom break," drawled Rey as he placed his hands behind his head. "And then suddenly, I wondered how my best friend was doing."

What a way to say you're slacking around.

"Albert's gonna find you and bite your head off if you don't make haste," Aspen said amidst his sly smile.

"As if he has enough strength in his teeth to decapitate me," Rey retorted, before he strolled towards him. "Kind of grotesque, but now that you said it, Albert can certainly transform into some sort of a scary hairy beast ravaging entire villages and devouring all of their flesh."

Aspen shook his head and sheathed his sword. "You've read too many novels."

"Are you not surprised though? That guy is eternally cranky. The moment he came into this world, he immediately growled at his parents, 'Why did you give birth to me?'" Rey bared his teeth and furrowed his brows, impersonating their former classmate. "By the gods, this palace is blessed with cantankerous individuals who can't loosen themselves up."

Aspen could only laugh in a jittery manner while he leaned against the pillar. The king and Prince Ira were obviously Rey's constant targets. He had lost count on how many times he had prevented his best friend from a tongueless demise, especially when these two were practically standing in front of him.