The sound of steel clashing together fills the air as the crowd gathering around the two figures grew thicker, everyone holding their breaths as each fighter grew more intense and the fight grew much more serious. A child would shift his way through the crowd of people as his friends would all around the crowd. The children wanting dearly to see this since they were poor and knew that entertainment and wealth were never in the cards for them; closing in from all angles the children finally peered out of the crowd as two knights fought one for the preservation of his beliefs, the other for his. The two trained killers never breaking eye contact as both stared at each other past the shining blades. Finally the two broke away from the stalemate, both quickly spinning their blades in their hands as they went for their next blow. Again both soldiers of their religions clashing into another stalemate. Quickly bringing up and elbow the knight in old, faded white armor would catch the other warrior underneath his chin. His long dark hair flying upwards following his head, in return the knight of black armor would kick the leg of his rival out from underneath him both men quickly trying to recover from the others blow. This time however both swords would again meet but not in a failed attack but a defensive match to see who was stronger, the black knight bringing his sword down towards the exposed head of the white knight, as in trained retaliation the white knight would bring his sword blade upwards using both hands to catch the swords in another struggle. The children stood awestruck as did everyone else, no one daring to intervene in the battle that was going on for the better part of almost fifteen minutes or more. Time flying by as one dared to catch it, or no one cared to follow it. All anyone cared about is who would be the winner of this seemingly even duel, as both sides clashed again from yet another counter. This time the two knight clash inches from each others throats both men staring at the other a fire in their eyes needing to be quenched by the death of the other. Hot breath pouring out of both of their open mouths, the blades fogging as the images of their victims fade from the minds of their steel bodies, tempered by the flames of war. Again both knights quickly arch backwards with extreme precision and grace they stop for a moment seeing if the other would finally surrender, neither side wanting to loss. Aiming their swords again for the heart of their enemies they charge each other as they both seemingly swipe the blades away and begin a shield bash, both making contact around the same time look at the other as they both stand firm. They both lower the shields and raise the swords yet again. Quickly, both men flick their swords forwards as they both slide by the others blade; the white knight flinches as the black knight draws his head backwards, the white knight reaching down grabbing the buried sword blade would fall to one knee as his is a mere centimeter from the exposed throat of the black knight. The knight looking down at his worthy opponent, "You fought well sir. I am sorry it had to end for you, please give God my regards and let him know I wish for no forgiveness." Slides the blade out of the corpse and then turns as a loud sound of metal hitting the dirt echoed around the breathless crowd, "I am sorry if he was family, I wish for your forgiveness if he was." He would sheath his blade and grab his enemies sword, putting it in the bundle of weapons on his back. The lone knight would walk through the crowd as most would part, all except a young boy in rags. The boy with fear and determination in his eye would look up at the lone figure with a very nervous, weary, and unsure tone would utter the words "Excuse me... I... I want to.. be an.. an underling to you..." The lone knight would look the boy of rags over and sigh, "Boy what is your name?" Taking a small, quiet, short breath would reply, "My name is Xavier, sir." The lone figure would grab a knife from his collection of weapons and toss it at the kids feet, "If you wish to be my underling you must know one thing. I am a knight of a far away land, secondly I will train you to be a fighter such as I am. Lastly, training under me will be very difficult and failure may result in your banishment or death depending on the task. Do you accept these terms?"The boy looks at the ground as he moves out of the knights path, the knight sighing thought he was right about the boy but wanted to give him the chance. "I'll take your silence as a no, it is a shame. You seemed to have.." The boy quickly yelling yes at the top of his lugs cuts the knight short, as his smiles. "Good to see you have some spunk to you kid.. Alright keep that knife then, when you know that knife as well as you know yourself then I will give you a sword. Understood?" The boy nods and picks up the weapon, examining the weapon he could feel the difference between this and the regular knives he has held; this one didn't lean to one side or the other and edge seemed pencil thin, and very sharp. Along with this art project of a knife he would give the boy a sack of gold, "Now with this, go and get yourself some clothes and armor. I will provide everything else you could need. Once you are done meet me at the tavern. Understood?" The boy would smile and walk with the man through the remainder of the crowd as they would go separate ways for now; one heading to the bar, the other to the stores that had mocked him all his life.