Anything Can Change
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II. Fate
"Eye on your opponent's blade! Watch where they swing!"
A young Lucina's hair flew wildly as she twirled around, keeping a tight grip on her rapier as it sliced the air around her. The steel of her sword clashed into another's- one more elegant and royal, the blade that was Falchion. The blades met with a metallic screech and Lucina jumped backward, putting distance between her and her father, Chrom, whom she met with a fierce gaze. She was panting, and sweat dripped off her brow in the heat of the summer evening.
"Aaagh!" Lucina yelled and sprinted forward, holding her blade close to her face as she jumped and pounced on Chrom. The latter retaliated by bringing up his sword and blocking the blow, parrying Lucina's strike and sending her stumbling to the side. She quickly regained composure, lashing at her father again with her blade. He managed to counter once again, and the duo's blades were locked against each other.
"Steady!" Chrom said as he pushed against Lucina's blade. She grunted, struggling against the superior strength of her father. Once again, she jumped backwards with a steely gaze. With a look of determination, she readied her blade by giving it a couple of flips in the air and raising it into the air. She then leaped into the air, somersaulting in a forward roll, bringing her rapier upward... and proceeded to fall flat on her stomach on the ground, wincing, her blade falling lazily after her.
"Lucina!" Her father rushed toward her side and knelt beside her. "Are you alright?"
"Ugh..." she groaned, pushing herself up with her palms with her father's assistance, small tears in her eyes. "It's no use... I'm never going to get it..."
"Don't say that," Chrom assured her. "You just need practice. That's what these sparring lessons are for."
"But I have practiced for awhile, Father. It seems as if there's no hope for me," Lucina said, picking her fallen blade from the ground, casting her gaze downward.
"Lucina..." Chrom said, placing his shoulders firmly on his daughter's shoulders. She looked up into his eyes. "Listen to me. You've just turned fifteen years old. You're still young, and there's plenty of time to learn. Even if you can't do it now, with enough time you can. Anything can change. Now, let's get up. It's time to return to the castle." He held out a hand.
Lucina nodded and wiped the dirt off her cheek, taking her father's hand and getting up slowly. The fierce orange sun was setting, spreading honey-golden rays all over the kingdom of Ylisse. The pair went off to the castle on horseback, Chrom riding up front and Lucina in the back. The young girl was staring at the beautiful sunset in the distance.
Anything can change.
She looked down at her open palm, and slowly began to draw determination from the depths of her heart. She formed a tight fist with her palm, and with newly-found strength gazed at the sunset once more, a look of serenity and courage on her face.
.
"Ha!" Basilio let out a hearty laugh, thumping his chest and guffawing. After his bout of laughter, he saw that the mysterious swordsman was still standing there, not saying a word.
"You still wish to challenge my champions? Well, you're certainly a feisty and ambitious young fellow. Could use someone with your ambition in our ranks," the large man continued. "After you've proven your skill, of course."
The masked man stood silent for a moment before replying. "Send me the best warrior you have."
Basilio's playful smile disappeared, replaced with a disappointing frown. He strode forward confidently to the man, looming over his small figure.
"Now, I said you've got ambition. But there's a fine line between confidence and downright cockiness," he said. "Care to repeat your last statement, nameless one?"
"I do not wish to stand around discussing things already discussed. Time is of the essence, I do not intend to squander what little of it is left," the masked man said, grabbing the hilt of his blade, not intimidated by the looming Basilio's large stature. "I intend to challenge your strongest champion, right here and now."
Basilio stared down at the man, who stared back at him through his butterfly-like blue mask. Neither backed off from the other, and the two stared at each other for a while, with all of Basilio's other men watching them intently. The tense air hung heavily in the soldiers' quarters. Finally, Basilio turned around and let out an exasperated grunt.
"Very well. It seems you will be taught a lesson through pain, that arrogance is man's greatest downfall," the khan said. He then bellowed deeply. "Lon'qu!"
Only a few seconds passed before a slim yet muscular man entered the soldiers' quarters, with jagged brown hair and a sword strapped to his side. His gaze fell upon Basilio and the mysterious masked man, but he remained silent. Basilio gestured toward the guest.
"This lil' man here wants to fight you personally. Now, he was real persistent about it, so go show him a thing or two about the Ferox way. Make it quick and we can all enjoy a good show. To the arena, both of you."
Lon'qu stared at the masked man, and he noticed and stared back. Lon'qu flinched involuntarily. Something about him seemed... off. He couldn't quite pinpoint the exact detail, but he grew uneasier by the second. He didn't have time to say anything about it as he was led toward the arena with the masked man following him. The two were then placed in the middle of the arena, facing each other with blades at the ready, all of Basilio's men watching from the sideline. The khan himself was at the front, crossing his arms and watching intently. A single ding was heard, signifying the beginning of the fight.
At first, the two swordsmen stared each other, blades drawn. Lon'qu's eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on his opponent, whose emotions and eyes were obscured by that blue mask. The rest of his face betrayed no emotion. Lon'qu, seeing that his opponent was attacking, decided to make the first strike. He rushed forward, swinging his blade toward his opponent's face. His blade was met with a regal-looking saber, and his opponent struck back like a serpent, lashing his blade at Lon'qu's face. Lon'qu's eyes grew wide as he narrowly dodged the sword from ripping his face to shreds. He placed some distance between him and his foe.
"Tougher than one appears..." Lon'qu murmured to himself, holding his blade tightly as the masked man ran toward him again, attempting to continue his onslaught. Lon'qu watched as the man jumped up and swung down. In response, the champion held his blade up horizontally, blocking the attack. The masked man swiftly struck again, this time at Lon'qu's feet. Lon'qu jumped, dodging the attack, and struck back with his own sword, which was parried once more.
"Good fight," Basilio muttered to himself, nodding in approval. He kept a close eye on both of the swordsmen. The arrogant challenger was more proficient with the blade than he'd initially thought. He was giving Lon'qu, Basilio's champion for years, a hard time. The khan could use someone like him...
Meanwhile, the challenger's sword blows were getting faster, and each assault came faster than the last, with the gleaming blade lashing from a different directions each time. Lon'qu didn't have time to retaliate or strike back; all his efforts were going into blocking one blow after the next. Finally, with a shout of determination, the masked man held his hilt with both hands and swung forcefully. Lon'qu barely had time to block the attack, but when the blades struck, Lon'qu's sword flew out of his hands, arcing in the air and landing straight down on the ground behind him. The masked challenger pointed the blade at his chest in victory before sheathing it. He turned to Basilio in the sidelines. The khan was clapping slowly and deliberately.
"Very nice show," Basilio said. "I'll be damned if you ain't the best swordsman this side of Ferox. Lon'qu, my boy, you need to shape up! Could be more fighters in the future." Lon'qu remained silent as he walked up to pick his fallen blade and sheathe it. Basilio turned to the masked man.
"My men and I would be honored if you would join our ranks. The champion's tournament for the khan is coming up fairly soon, and I need all the best men I can get my hands on."
The masked man nodded. "I would like to join your ranks. I have heard that the other khan will receive some new champions as well, some of them hailing from royal blood. "
Basilio made a fist. "Recruiting foreign royalty? That Flavia... well, there's no rules against that. We'll just see how this goes!"
Lon'qu wandered back to the two and faced the masked man. He held out a hand.
"Though you have defeated me, you have earned my respect as a superior swordsman. I look forward to working with you..."
"You may call me Marth," the man said, shaking his hand firmly. "May our battles together be victorious."
.
"Where did you get that?"
Two identical Falchion's glinted in the arena battlefield, with each of their points directed toward the other. Marth remained silent, letting the blades do their talking.
"There's no way..."
The two azure-haired swordsmen lunged at each other, each blocking each other's strikes gracefully and with unparalleled skill. The Falchions collided with each other again and again. Chrom jumped up, spinning forward in a somersault rapidly before letting gravity taking over and swinging down his blade with tremendous force, keen to attack.
Eyes on your opponent...
Marth expertly blocked the attack, sending Chrom back to the ground and the two engaged in a series of sword strikes, with sparks flashing out at each collision of the two Falchions. The two azure-haired swordsmen fought with unparalleled skills. Chrom, agile as always, darted in and out of attacks before speaking.
Watch where they swing...
"Tell me..." Chrom said, blocking another strike, "...who taught you to fight like that?"
Steady.
Marth jumped backwards to distance himself, then jumped high in the air, readying his blade. He nimbly somersaulted forward in the air, rolling rapidly multiple times before unleashing his own blade at the Ylissean prince. In the midst of the attack, he responded.
"My father!"
The two backed off each other, before Chrom lunged forward with surprising speed, swinging his blade and stopping inches before Marth's neck, who was still recovering from the fall of the initial attack. Marth dropped his blade in surrender, knowing defeat had come. Chrom sighed, then sheathed his blade, and Marth did the same. The Shephards had won the tournament for Flavia.
"Well, whoever he is, he must be a great warrior to have taught you to fight that way," Chrom said to his fallen opponent.
Marth brushed his clothes, before walking back out of the spotlight to Basilio's quarters. As he walked away, he faced Chrom over his shoulder and nodded.
"The greatest."
