Prologue
-Two years ago-
'Who wants a piece of the champ?'
' Go away.'
'I don't feel like it."
'You're starting to bore me, purple man.'
'Would wittle Fiowa feel better if she had some fun?' Jax crooned.
'Only possibly,' she said.
'Tell you what, let's spar, and if you win, I'll leave you alone,' the Grandmaster at Arms said.
'I long for a worthy opponent.'
'Bring it on.'
'Weapons?'
'I'll win easily with anything but this lamppost, twerp,' said Jax.
'Oh, really? Je ne te crois pas.'Fiora taunted. I don't believe you.
'Try me, woman.'
Fiora tossed Jax a wooden sword. 'How badly would you like to be beaten?'
'As well as your flimsy little arms allow, my lady.'
Jax and Fiora took up either sides of the sparring ring. 'Prepare to get destroyed,' the Grand Duelist called across the ring.
'If only that might happen,' Jax responded. He took off his mask and cracked his knuckles.
Fiora smirked and ran at her opponent. Jax patiently waited for her to reach him. As she neared him, she feinted to test his capability. Jax knew that she was not trying to hit him, so he only sidled to the left.
Fiora grinned and darted forwards. She sliced at him with a series of graceful strokes, all of which Jax dodged or parried.
He struck back at her with his own sequence of slashes and jabs, forcing her to respond in kind.
'Poor form!' she laughed, both of them knowing it wasn't true. For the better part of an hour, they fought.
As they became tired, their passes at each other became weaker and sloppier. In the end, they both collapsed, gasping, in a limp pile of sweat. When they'd recovered, Fiora said to Jax, 'I've longed for a worthy opponent.'
He raised an eyebrow. 'You've said that,'