As the bullet struck its target, the people fled in panic. He fell,
and with him, fell the Sanque Kingdom.
'Father!' "F-f-father…NOOOOOOO!"
And his blood…was on them all…
*******
The rapiers flashed as thrust by thrust was parried.
"Milliardo, calm yourself! Aggression alone will not make you victorious," exclaimed Pagan.
"Pagan, you are not even trying. Why will you not attack?" asked a furious young Milliardo Peacecraft.
The rapiers continued to clash, yet the pace started slowing down.
"You are getting tired Milliardo. Moderation, patience and self- control will overcome pure strength in the end." Pagan moved to prove his point by effortlessly guiding his rapier towards Milliardo's throat. "I have you now."
*******
His sister had left earlier with the ambassador's family. But he had already passed his dead mother's bed. As he came to the great hall of the Peacecraft mansion, he arrived just in time to see his father get shot by a man in green uniform.
The green uniforms gathered, and left the room in single file. As the last uniform exited the room, he turned to say, "So where has your pacifism brought you? What has it brought you? Fool. Boy," this time turning to address the young Milliardo, "are you going to grow up to be a dog too?" And with that, the soldier turned and left.
Milliardo rushed to his fallen king, his father. His suit was quickly soiled as the wound poured its crimson stain onto the pure white cloth. 'Father…why? Who are they? Those uniforms…I remember them from the peace delegation a few months ago.
Peace.
But the World Federation Military Alliance? Father, you have always taught pacifism...
But…'
*******
"This lesson is not over yet! I will not be defeated!" With a burst of speed that left Pagan completely disoriented and confused, Milliardo fell back and spun at the same time bringing the point of his rapier to that of Pagan's. With the momentum of the spin, Milliardo continued to thrust while falling back. The total force brought to bear on the rapiers caused Pagan's to snap – sending the blade whirling off into one of the training hall's walls. Pagan proceeded to take off his fencing mask, but before fully exposing his face, Milliardo had already removed his mask and made his way to the weapons rack. As Pagan placed his mask under his arm he looked up to see Milliardo offering him another rapier.
"Neither shall I win because of petty circumstances."
'Your countenance, maybe your mask does not protect your face from harm. Are you hiding behind it, my lord?'
*******
Spotting an ornate gun lying beside his father's prostrate body, he hungrily grabbed it and tucked it under his now crimson jacket. 'I will seek an equal plane to bring you to justice. I will have my revenge. But…' Turning back to his father, thoughts of guilt began clouding his mind. 'But I will not stain the Peacecraft name.' He quickly hurried into the fencing hall and grabbed a fencing mask off of the rack.
*******
"Milliardo, do you not think that Pagan has had enough?" asked reigning King Peacecraft as he entered the room.
"Father…I…" The face of aggression and passion, the one that had so scared Pagan moments ago, quickly vanished and was replaced by one of surprise…and fear.
"No, Milli. There is nothing for you to say. Why do you look so downcast my son? I am not scolding you."
"Yes father."
"Besides I came here to announce the presence of a new friend." Turning aside, the high king addressed an unseen boy. "You can come in now."
"Who– "
But at the gesture of his father's hand, Milliardo fell silent. "You can ask our guest yourself." Suddenly, a young figure of similar height and stature as Milliardo stepped into view.
"Hello, my name is Treize, Treize Khushrenada. I'm here with the Romafeller and World Federation peace delegation party."
Milliardo was at a loss for words, but a quick glance from his father gave motion to his mouth, and sound for his voice. "My name is Milliardo Peacecraft, the sixth prince of the Peacecraft line. How do you do?"
*******
Running towards one of the mansion's many secret exits, he made his way out. His eyes were assaulted by the sight of the kingdom in ruins. Among those ruins were tall human-like robots, colored an ugly green like that of the soldiers' uniforms. 'Mobile suits?' Milliardo had often heard of them, but never believed that such a wonder really existed. However, at the moment, the site was far from being the embraced wonder of an ambitious young boy. It was the destruction of a kingdom. It was the death of his father. It was a cause for hatred. 'Treize, you were with the military alliance. Were we not friends? You will answer for what has happened here...you will help me find my revenge!'
*******
"I see that you are quite talented with the foil," commented the young Treize.
"Do you play, Mr. Khushrenada?"
"Please, call me Treize and yes I do know a bit about the foil."
"Do you care to spar?"
"Milliardo!" interrupted his father, "Do not be so rude to our young guest."
"Excuse me your highness," responded Treize, "I will accept Milliardo's invitation. Many thanks, but your highness need not concern himself with my offense."
"That is a fine young gentleman you have chosen as your opponent Milliardo. It would do you well to learn from him."
"Father!" But no reply was given as the king exited the room.
"Shall we not begin Milliardo?"
"You are only wearing the vest."
"These rapier's have been abated. I need not fear a blunted point."
"Fine, let us begin."
Milliardo immediately began a savage offense, and like Pagan, Treize would only parry and defend himself. But Milliardo said nothing. He only searched for an opening, a weakness, in Treize's form. But as quickly as the weakness was found, it would disappear. Angered by the duration of the conflict and his inability to strike a hit, Milliardo stepped forward and made a decisive thrust. However, Treize calmly intercepted the oncoming foil with his own, and spun it out of its master's hand, completing the fluid almost-beautiful motion by bringing the abated point to the neck of the young prince. Milliardo froze. He was not afraid, but was actually leaning towards the point. Pagan chuckled at the sight before commenting.
*******
'What will I do? Will it be your life for his?' As the thoughts spun in his head, Milliardo suddenly recalled the day he met Treize and challenged him to a duel. Those words burned in his head.
*******
"Moderation, patience and self-control."
'Father!' "F-f-father…NOOOOOOO!"
And his blood…was on them all…
*******
The rapiers flashed as thrust by thrust was parried.
"Milliardo, calm yourself! Aggression alone will not make you victorious," exclaimed Pagan.
"Pagan, you are not even trying. Why will you not attack?" asked a furious young Milliardo Peacecraft.
The rapiers continued to clash, yet the pace started slowing down.
"You are getting tired Milliardo. Moderation, patience and self- control will overcome pure strength in the end." Pagan moved to prove his point by effortlessly guiding his rapier towards Milliardo's throat. "I have you now."
*******
His sister had left earlier with the ambassador's family. But he had already passed his dead mother's bed. As he came to the great hall of the Peacecraft mansion, he arrived just in time to see his father get shot by a man in green uniform.
The green uniforms gathered, and left the room in single file. As the last uniform exited the room, he turned to say, "So where has your pacifism brought you? What has it brought you? Fool. Boy," this time turning to address the young Milliardo, "are you going to grow up to be a dog too?" And with that, the soldier turned and left.
Milliardo rushed to his fallen king, his father. His suit was quickly soiled as the wound poured its crimson stain onto the pure white cloth. 'Father…why? Who are they? Those uniforms…I remember them from the peace delegation a few months ago.
Peace.
But the World Federation Military Alliance? Father, you have always taught pacifism...
But…'
*******
"This lesson is not over yet! I will not be defeated!" With a burst of speed that left Pagan completely disoriented and confused, Milliardo fell back and spun at the same time bringing the point of his rapier to that of Pagan's. With the momentum of the spin, Milliardo continued to thrust while falling back. The total force brought to bear on the rapiers caused Pagan's to snap – sending the blade whirling off into one of the training hall's walls. Pagan proceeded to take off his fencing mask, but before fully exposing his face, Milliardo had already removed his mask and made his way to the weapons rack. As Pagan placed his mask under his arm he looked up to see Milliardo offering him another rapier.
"Neither shall I win because of petty circumstances."
'Your countenance, maybe your mask does not protect your face from harm. Are you hiding behind it, my lord?'
*******
Spotting an ornate gun lying beside his father's prostrate body, he hungrily grabbed it and tucked it under his now crimson jacket. 'I will seek an equal plane to bring you to justice. I will have my revenge. But…' Turning back to his father, thoughts of guilt began clouding his mind. 'But I will not stain the Peacecraft name.' He quickly hurried into the fencing hall and grabbed a fencing mask off of the rack.
*******
"Milliardo, do you not think that Pagan has had enough?" asked reigning King Peacecraft as he entered the room.
"Father…I…" The face of aggression and passion, the one that had so scared Pagan moments ago, quickly vanished and was replaced by one of surprise…and fear.
"No, Milli. There is nothing for you to say. Why do you look so downcast my son? I am not scolding you."
"Yes father."
"Besides I came here to announce the presence of a new friend." Turning aside, the high king addressed an unseen boy. "You can come in now."
"Who– "
But at the gesture of his father's hand, Milliardo fell silent. "You can ask our guest yourself." Suddenly, a young figure of similar height and stature as Milliardo stepped into view.
"Hello, my name is Treize, Treize Khushrenada. I'm here with the Romafeller and World Federation peace delegation party."
Milliardo was at a loss for words, but a quick glance from his father gave motion to his mouth, and sound for his voice. "My name is Milliardo Peacecraft, the sixth prince of the Peacecraft line. How do you do?"
*******
Running towards one of the mansion's many secret exits, he made his way out. His eyes were assaulted by the sight of the kingdom in ruins. Among those ruins were tall human-like robots, colored an ugly green like that of the soldiers' uniforms. 'Mobile suits?' Milliardo had often heard of them, but never believed that such a wonder really existed. However, at the moment, the site was far from being the embraced wonder of an ambitious young boy. It was the destruction of a kingdom. It was the death of his father. It was a cause for hatred. 'Treize, you were with the military alliance. Were we not friends? You will answer for what has happened here...you will help me find my revenge!'
*******
"I see that you are quite talented with the foil," commented the young Treize.
"Do you play, Mr. Khushrenada?"
"Please, call me Treize and yes I do know a bit about the foil."
"Do you care to spar?"
"Milliardo!" interrupted his father, "Do not be so rude to our young guest."
"Excuse me your highness," responded Treize, "I will accept Milliardo's invitation. Many thanks, but your highness need not concern himself with my offense."
"That is a fine young gentleman you have chosen as your opponent Milliardo. It would do you well to learn from him."
"Father!" But no reply was given as the king exited the room.
"Shall we not begin Milliardo?"
"You are only wearing the vest."
"These rapier's have been abated. I need not fear a blunted point."
"Fine, let us begin."
Milliardo immediately began a savage offense, and like Pagan, Treize would only parry and defend himself. But Milliardo said nothing. He only searched for an opening, a weakness, in Treize's form. But as quickly as the weakness was found, it would disappear. Angered by the duration of the conflict and his inability to strike a hit, Milliardo stepped forward and made a decisive thrust. However, Treize calmly intercepted the oncoming foil with his own, and spun it out of its master's hand, completing the fluid almost-beautiful motion by bringing the abated point to the neck of the young prince. Milliardo froze. He was not afraid, but was actually leaning towards the point. Pagan chuckled at the sight before commenting.
*******
'What will I do? Will it be your life for his?' As the thoughts spun in his head, Milliardo suddenly recalled the day he met Treize and challenged him to a duel. Those words burned in his head.
*******
"Moderation, patience and self-control."