Disclaimer: Zero no Tsukaima is written by Noburo Yamaguchi, Published by Media Factory. Exalted system is published by White Wolf Publishing. Any other references are owned by their respective creators.


Chapter 1: The Summoning

Parry and counter, the furry of multiple attacks against the graceful weaving through the strikes, in a lethal dance of sparks and blood.

My opponent is grinning in excitement since the start of the fight in contrast with my own somber resolution, his superior instincts a match to my advanced skills. His assured abilities against my greater talent. My sword against his Fae gifted chain armor, his spear against my Own crafted breastplate.

Some would say we are complete opposites, like light and darkness in an eternal dispute for dominance. Our philosophies in combat are likewise very different from each other, him seeking a glorious battle and equally glorious death, while I treat conflict and battle as just another tool to survive in this gods forsaken land.

There is however one thing that we share in common.

Our mutual hatred for each other.

We meet many times on the battlefield in the past, and every single time our combat was interrupted by greater disturbances. One hateful day we were even forced to fight alongside each other against the greater threat of the Restless, a day I wish I could forget with all of my might.

A day I was forced to accept that I respected his skill, power and determination.

"Well, well, well, King of Steel", he says one of the many names I earned through my life with a colorful mixture of sarcasm and reverence, "if I'm correct, it's around now we get interrupted, isn't it right?"

I pains me to admit it, but I have to agree with him this time. Fate seen to go far and beyond to interrupt our fights, as if our mutual struggles to kill each other is an amusing play the divines watch as light entertainment.

Damn the gods.

"Not today", I reply simply to him, not wanting to waste any more words with him yet being unable to avoid responding him in some manner.

Silence fall between us again, and as if this moments wish to extend towards eternity the world around us appear to be unchanged, save for a single leaf drifting on our right.

The wind blows twirling the brown leaf in the air, eventually crossing between us.

As if we agreed beforehand, both of us dash towards each other intending to end this fight on our next attack.

Golden steel meets red bone, the memory of my brother against the blood of his father.

I really hate how we know each other for so long, and I specially hate how he is my longest living acquaintance.

Horizontal, vertical, diagonal slash followed by a final trusting attack, while he swings and weaves through my assault.

But my stance is perfect in it's solidity, and I betray no weakness through my furious attacks.

He sets his stance.

Spear pointed on the ground, right palm upwards and left hand downwards.

I know what is coming.

Parrying is impossible, dodging is useless. On my best day I can evade part of the damage, while on his best day I am nothing more than a meat on a stick. A perfect technique must have a perfect resolution, an undeniable logic shaped into unavoidable truth on his hands.

It isn't wonder I don't even try defend myself against his attack, trusting into my own supernatural resilience.

The spear pierces my armor and skin, but instead of going through my body it stops at my abdomen, making my enemy hesitate for an instant.

I didn't.

Grabbing the red blade on my left hand and ignoring the pain from multiple small barbs piercing my flesh, I push him backwards, trying to make him slip and fall through the multiple debris around us. But something as shallow as that won't phase him, but my bold and reckless actions are just a means to keep him off balance and try to seize the advantage chance might give to us.

His feet for a moment are above ground, but he won't remain in this position for long, no doubt regaining his position and trying to finish impaling me with his cursed weapon.

However fate had another thing reserved for us, yet another interruption.

I'm not too well versed in sorcery, but even I could recognize a magical portal when one presents itself.

A magical portal trying to engulf my enemy.

A magical portal trying to steal my enemy away from me.

A magical portal trying to interrupt our fight once more.

"NOT THIS TIME!"

With renewed strength I tighten my hand harder on the spear, and I run with all my might towards the portal.

I won't let it go.

I WILL NEVER LET IT GO!

We both fall through the portal, darkness surrounding us. My opponent tries to dislodge his spear from my control, slowly but surely digging deeper into my flesh.

Hopping against hope for me to be right this time, to be right just one more time, I take my sword and swing at the cursed bone spear with all of my power, all of my determination, aiming towards an imperfection I created a long time ago.

I hit it once, twice, thrice.

It's on the fifth time when the powerful weapon cracks, finally snapping in half at my sixth swing.

But my enemy won't stop by something as simple as his most trusted weapon breaking under stress, and his hands are firmly around my neck, both of us swirling and twirling in the darkness, up and down losing all meaning at this point.

"Agk!"

His hands are strong.

It must be to wield his spear with such grace, with such power.

I can feel every single one of his calluses, the amount matching those on my own hand.

"Ah..."

I can't breath, but I can still move.

Holding my sword into a half grip, I start stabbing at his chest, slowly piercing his armor.

Light comes again, blinding us once more. Up and down definitely exists, and I use that to my greatest advantage.

"OOOOOOHHHHHHHHH!"

We both fall on the ground, hard.

He bellow.

Me above.

My sword in between his ribs.

I won.

"Geh... hah!" He yells, spitting blood. "Looks like... you finally won... Yui."

At the sound of his voice, I can't help but get mad. How dare he be so calm? I killed him! I finally killed him!

But then why I am crying?

He gives me back a satisfied, blood strained grin.

"Why", I must ask, I have to know now that everything is over, "why did you keep fighting? Why you didn't come under my rule? Wasn't I just? Wasn't I good enough?"

My vision blurs with tears, and scenes of our previous encounters flash through my mind.

The worst first impression possible with him intruding during my bath, he stealing a kiss from me even knowing I was married, a brief glance at the King's Hall, a shared dance at the New Dawn Festival over a lost bet. Through it all, I always hated his guts.

War.

Conspiracy.

Revolt.

Revolution.

Assassination.

Ascension.

I was never supposed to be the new ruler, but circumstances forced my hand.

"You... weren't... my... Liege."

My anger flares once more.

"He was a tyrant! Not even a shadow of his father, just a delusional maniac! A GODS FORSAKEN CULTIST! WHY DID YOU HAD TO FOLLOW THAT WASTE OF HUMAN FLESH!"

I'm not even sure if I'm speaking right anymore, my tears falling harder with the loss of battle high.

"I'm a knight", he replies, as if that would answer everything.

In a sense, it does.

Because I'm also like that, never turning back once I set myself towards a goal, an ideal. Doesn't mean I won't hate him for wasting his life like this.

A calloused hand hubs my right cheek.

"So... beau... tiful... cry... ing, doesn't suit... y... o... u..."

The hand fall.

Unable to stop myself, I tighten my grip around my sword and I let out a loud cry, a cry of sadness and rage.

My head is light, my whole body aches, and I can see the blood flowing through my stomach.

"Stupid... cursed spear".

I can't hold much longer, and at this point I don't want to try anymore. As my hands loosen the grip, for the first time I notice the crowd surrounding me.

A few kids, a few adults, a bald middle aged man in brown robes, a strawberry blond girl with a horrified expression on her face.

Huh, I guess my first impression skills aren't nearly as good as I hoped to be.