D: Chapter 7.5 : A Short Intermission Where We Warp to the Past to Understand Pasts a Little Better :D
The year was 1456, the year of the dragon.
Not really. Everyday was dragon day. In fact, at the present moment, a tall knight on a pale horse was launching spears into the sky, trying to impale large yellow dragon. It was headed straight for the Austrian capitol where a nice little jousting contest was being held over the fairest maiden in all the land—possibly all the word—Bella of Belgium.
She was very pretty and graceful, but she had an ugly personality besides her caring side that was actually a façade to cover her even more ugly and obnoxious arrogance. She was player, you see. But guys don't care about that sort of thing; as long as the woman has a nice ass they're in.
And Bella of Belgium had a nice ass.
As every knight lined up with his horse, the fairest man in all the land—maybe a brain tumor—I mean, possibly in all the world—was grinning ferociously. There was no way he could win with a name like his: March Clauses. He was tall and scruffy with bright, clown red hair and glistening cerulean eyes. His cheekbones were high and his nose was short and cute. Every girl who met his eyes promptly swooned.
However, though the young man seemed to be a jock more than anything else, he was secretly a scientist. He believed aliens had created the great pyramids of Giza, that aliens had built the China Wall, and that Genghis Khan was married to an alien at one point until she got tired of him and pushed him off a cliff. Of course, there was no evidence of this, but that didn't stop conspiracies from filling March's head.
At the end of the line, there was another young man with a strong, sturdy yellow horse. He wasn't very tall, but he wasn't short. He leaned wearily against his horse, silently sulking. The Swiss prince, Basch Zwingli, was in love with another girl, a girl he had been forced to leave behind in the small village of Berne. She was an Italian girl; big, chocolate eyes and long, frizzy brunette hair with a rather large nose and a slender figure that definitely looked prepared to knock someone out should they try to grab her. She was kind and caring, but oblivious, selfish, and a little too happy for most people.
But he loved Nix Vargas and wanted her back more than anything he could ever want in his entire life. She was the apple of his eye, the grain in his coffee. If he were a cat, she would be his pajamas.
But father had told Basch he had to marry a princess. Princes only ever married princesses, and Bella was the fairest princess of them all. Nix was simply peasant with dreams large enough to fill the sky. Bella was beautiful and stunningly so, but no amount of beauty or passion could ever extinguish the brightly burning flame of love he harbored for Nix.
Bella didn't have shit on Nix.
Now, Basch was a Grade A Jouster; he was strong and courageous and he never backed down from a challenge. But during the long moments he spent standing in that line, awaiting his next rival, he had to force himself to stay there. During the jousts, he wanted nothing more than to hop off his horse and leave the other knights to collide against the back wall. Basch felt sick to his stomach; he couldn't marry a lass he didn't love. He almost felt as though he wanted to die.
But what did he expect he could do? This was a public arena and if he hung himself out by the river the entire audience could see him. He couldn't run himself over with his own horse but he was positive the other knights would want to.
This is a joust, he told himself. Man up. You can't afford to back down. Keep your honor. Nix wouldn't want that.
As the daylight dwindled over the mountains, the first day of the tournament ended and that was when the dragon descended. All men were called to arms; they all ran out into the middle of the field and braced themselves for war. But the dragon flew on right overhead. March's jaw dropped and he screamed, "Aliens! They told that damned dragon there would be a joust. Pray thee, dragon, that I do not find your bed at night!"
And the dragon turned and flew right at March. With a shrill scream, March ducked and cowered in his tons and tons of armor, soiling his pants. Basch, who had been hiding from the owl-like eyes of Bella—who seemed to have developed a rather large crush on the Swiss boy—rushed out from a broom closet, sword in hand. With a ferocious roar, he swung his blade and sliced the dragon's head in half.
It was silent for quite sometime as the dragon wound down and writhed before it stilled. Basch couched down to March's visible hand and pulled his body out from under the fearsome dragon. March sputtered and gasped with lack of breath as Basch dragged him under a nearby tree.
When he turned, the village people were still by the arena. "Well?" He shouted. "Are you going to help him or not?"
The villagers cheered and a squad of paramedics rushed out to March with a cot. He wasn't hurt too badly—just a few cuts and bruises. For the rest of the night Basch was a hero.
And March hated his guts.
Morning came all too early for Basch. He had had a frightening dream about Bella eating a hog like a caveman and Nix was tied to a stake with a strange ring sticking out of her forehead.
He strolled to his breakfast table and found a note:
Dear Swiss Bastard,
You have disgraced my damn cousin, damn you! What the hell is WRONG with you?! And don't tell me you don't love her, you bastard, because you do! Even Feliciano and that damned potato bastard Ludwig has noticed it, and Ludwig's just as dumb as any other idiot! You know it's true! Kicking him into the pond was the best thing I've ever done.
But that is not the point here; you've killed Nix! She barely eats or drinks and this is all because you had to go and be a bastard, damn you! It's not that I care about her feelings, but if you're enough of a bastard to do something like this—leave a perfectly average girl for a fucking annoying as hell princess—then the world doesn't have long before judgement day, does it?
You're a FREAK! Join a damn CIRCUS!
Lovino Vargas
PS: You had stupid hair anyway!
Disgraced and upset, Basch left his room and headed out to the arena. Maybe he could find another dragon to eat him. But the first person he ran into wasn't a dragon, it was Bella. She fell to the ground with a blood-curdling scream and began to sob, "Basch, my love! Why have you wronged me?!"
"It's nothing personal," he grunted, running away—I mean, rushing past her.
So the day went by quickly and March won every single joust. Secretly he was cheating; one of his countrymen was a self-proclaimed wizard who really just messed with the horse saddles. He flew through the tournament like a god—until it all finally wound down to he and Basch.
Basch knew that, with the way everything had turned out so far, it was a 50/50 possibility that he would win. But it didn't bother him one bit. Bella stood at the railing right down in front of the bleachers, staring intensely at poor Basch. He groaned and slammed his helmet over his head. She was creepy as all hell.
March prepared at the other end of the field, practically glowing with confidence. If he won this tournament, he wouldn't only be winning a princess. He'd also be winning the power of speech. He could finally force every nation to listen to him when he told them aliens were responsible for creating the world and pyramids. They couldn't think otherwise—stupid people believed what their leaders told them. No one could deny his conspiracies—I mean, theories anymore. No one would call him insane ever again!
He gazed down the field at Prince Zwingli and grinned knowingly. Basch groaned and mounted his horse, praying to every god in the world that he would lose. But there was an alternate side to his thoughts; he wanted to wipe that confident sneer right off of March Clauses' face. It would be a finer moment in life, and Basch had no doubt that he would enjoy it. He clenched his jaw and picked up his joust, ready to battle.
