Bo was restless; how could he not be? The final round of the tournament lay waiting for him, ready for the taking, but his trusty spear, which he had painstakingly forged and carved over the last six months, had taken some cheap blows and hard strikes in the semi final, weakening the connection from wood to metal. His hand tightened around his pride and joy, and all he could feel was something cold and unfamiliar. The balance and soul of the weapon was gone, and so too was his confidence in himself. But even so, there was no backing down. He had come this far, and there was no backing down now. He let out one final calming breath, before nodding to his armor bearer, who opened the curtain before him.

The familiar arena laid before them, its' crimson decor and natural lighting making the place feel more like a volcano and less like a dojo. Judges, officials, and patrons, all clad in similar hues of red lined the room, like statues in the terra-cotta army: silent, but steadfast. He donned his helmet, and stepped out into the fire lined walkway, which led to the main arena stage. While it may have been about the size of a large bedroom, the stage felt suffocatingly small, due to the ring of water the lay a few feet below the sides, like a moat surrounding a castle of old.

Across from him, the other curtains opened, and another armor clad fighter joined him in the four sided arena, looking to dash away Bo's hopes of earning a spot in the prestigious ranks of the King's Elite Guard, like his father before him. They met in the middle, where the head judge began his short introduction.

"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to join us in the final round of The King's Tournament. These two fighters have valiantly forged, trained, and fought their way to this final match, to decide who may join the King's Guard. As a reminder, points are as follows: a slash to the arms or legs is one point, and two for the body or head. A stab to the body is one point, and there will be no contact to the head or neck area. A strike made by anything other than the blade of the spear will not be counted. If a fighter is pushed or thrown into the water, they will lose immediately. As this is the final, there will be one five minute round. Now, please go to your sides, and await my commands to start."

The pressure began to mount in Bo's head. This was what he wanted, what he had worked and toiled so hard for over the last seven years of his life, and it had finally culminated in to one final five minute round. He got to his side, and knelt down, looking at the pool of blue, unforgiving water that lay below.

"Now," the judge barked, "please rise, and bow to your opponent." The two fighters did as they were ordered. "Now bow to me." Again, like trained dogs, they did. Then, the word that made all of that fear and dread evaporate like water on the sun, "Fight!"

Bo darted quickly to the center of the arena, hoping to gain control of as much area as possible. His adversary moved gracefully to oppose him, adopting a defensive stance and posture. Bo feinted a thrust to the midsection, probing the defenses of his opponent. They were not fooled, and countered with a slash to the opposite side, landing a solid blow to the arm. "One point, black! Arm slash!" the head judge bellowed.

They were quick, for sure. Bo moved in again, maneuvering his spear and using his larger frame to knock his opponents spear to the side, and landing a solid stab to the ribs. "Three points, red! Chest thrust!" Bo knew he had the strength advantage, and now, he could really dial up his attack. He moved in again, trying to set himself up for a similar attack yet again, only to be out maneuvered by his foe. They slipped his thrust, and countered with another slash, this time, to his ribs. "Two points, black! Slash to the ribs!"

All-square. Bo reeled from the hit for a second, as even with the armor and the dull blades, the strikes still carried solid weight behind them. He charged his foe, hoping to shove his opponent off balance. He used his spear to block the defensive jab towards his midsection, and was able to body-block his opponent just enough to get in a quick slash across the stomach. "Two points, red! Chest slash!" His opponent swiftly recovered, and tried to reply with a slash to the arm, which caught the end of Bo's blade.

crack* *ping* *SPLASH*

The spear was promptly turned into a staff, as in one fell swoop, the blade had broken completely off of the handle. 'Shit,' Bo thought to himself. No points were counted for hits by the wooden handle, even if the blade was gone. Losing your blade meant certain death to most soldiers, but to be the best of the best, you had to adapt to whatever situation was at hand. Unfortunately, the sudden weight shift and shock of losing his main weapon caused his leg to be vulnerable, and was expertly swiped across by his foe. "One point, black! Leg slash!"

Five to four, and Bo was still in the lead. It would have to remain that score, if he ever hoped of winning this final bout. "One minute!" Relief. It was almost over. Bo had to play defensive, and without a blade, he could easily do so by changing his grip towards the middle of the shaft, similar to a staff. His opponent, however, would not be deterred so easily. They moved with the grace of a swan, and flowed like water down the river, trying to overcome the unorthodox defense that Bo was forced to resort to. The large expanse of the arena was his ally, and he intended to use every square inch of it to try and get away from his attacker. Every swipe, stab, and lunge could be the final blow in the ring, and both parties were fully aware of this fact. "Thirty seconds!"

Bo was running out of moves. Every parry was read, and filed away in his opponent's mind, and some of his typical defenses were being quickly worn down by the onslaught of metal heading his way. Stab, slash, thrust, slash, sweep, each attack like a hailstone hitting his spear turned pole turned savior. Bo watched as the armored attacker wound up, hoping to come in for a big overhead slash. With no room to maneuver, he raised his staff over his head, perpendicularly to his body.

CRACK*

The force of the blow was too much for the wooden handle to bear, and it finally splintered into pieces, the recoil of which caused Bo to drop both halves, leaving him as defenseless as a newborn turtle. His only hope was to run, and hope time ran out before his opponent landed another stab or slash, which was easier said then done. Bo was boxed in by a flurry of well executed slashes and jabs, not unlike how a dog herds sheep. Then, with no stage left, and with nothing to protect him, Bo saw the perfect slash, heading right for his left side. There was nothing to do, except...

"Two points, black! Slash to the ribs!"

Perfectly executed strike. Certainly a killing blow on the battlefield, except, this wasn't the battlefield.

Bo locked his arm around the spearhead and shaft, and yanked it towards him. His opponent was already somewhat off balance from the mighty slash, and Bo used this to pull his adversary towards him, hoping to end the fight by ring-out. Bo grappled his armored adversary, and body slammed them to the ground. He then moved to push them off the side, which was met with a quick last ditch grab and roll from Bo's opponent. Bo went with the roll, and was able to tie up the legs of his foe with his own. Bo broke free, and gave on last strong push in order to finish the fight. He was exhausted, he was bruised, and- "Time!"

-and he was dumbstruck. He expected to hear something else completely different, namely the splash of water and armor meeting, but he heard no such thing. He looked over, only to see a gloved hand, still grasped tightly to the edge of the ring. Bo hung his head, and got up to go check on his opponent. He reached a hand out, and was unexpectedly pulled off of the stage, along with his foe.

KER-SPLASH*

After all of that, the whole fight, losing to time, and breaking his spear, this is was simply the icing on the cake. Bo was assisted by tournament officials out of the water, and threw his helmet off to the side.

"Are you kidding me? It's not enough for you to win, but you had to throw me in the water as well?" Bo was fuming.

"Well, Bo-Bo," a feminine voice mocked from under their helmet, "you looked like you needed to cool off after such a hard workout."

It couldn't be. Bo watched in abstract horror, as his foe removed their helmet, revealing the brown haired, tan skinned face of his sparring partner, classmate, and worst of all, girlfriend. Everything suddenly made perfect sense. The way she moved, the way she struck, and the way that she knew almost every move in Bo's arsenal made perfect sense.

"I have to hand it to you, though, the move to try and throw me off the side was extremely resourceful of you! Good thing you told me to work on my strength in order to do well in the tournament." Kai flexed as she said this, before going back to arms akimbo. "So, that was fun. Sorry about breaking your spear, though."

"Oh," Bo tried to regain his composure, "it not a big deal. Jhin landed some cheap shots on it last round, and I was worried it was going to break at some point no matter what." Bo looked towards the ground, then sat down at the water's edge. "So, I see you fared pretty well out there, huh?"

"Well, that's one way to put it." She moved to his side, and joined him along the edge. "But you didn't make it easy on me, you know." She slugged him in the arm, a small chuckle escaping her lips as she did so.

"Well I had to try something to keep you from kicking my ass, that's for sure. It's all I could think of at the time." Bo sighed. "You played the situation perfectly. You had me dead to rights in a real fight. It was a well deserved win."

"Look, it's not how I wanted it to go down, without a doubt. I just did what we were trained to do, you know that." She leaned on him just a bit.

"I know, I know. It still just stings a bit." He paused. "I think I could have won had you not cheap-shotted my spear," he said with a smirk.

Kai shot back to neutral at this. "Like hell! You were running on fumes and you know it!" They both laughed for a second, before being interrupted by a rather pompous sounding clearing of the throat.

aahh-HEEM*

The both turned their heads, to see the captain of the Elite Guard looking their way. They both immediately shot up to attention, saluting the captain. "Lady Kai, congratulations on winning The King's Tournament. As is per tradition, the winner gets the privilege of joining our ranks as a member of the Elite Guard." Bo could almost feel the excitement radiating off of Kai, just looking for any small crack to escape out of.

"Thank you, sir! It is an honor," she said, giving a salute.

"The honor is all mine," the captain replied, returning the salute in kind. "Please, return to your locker room, and change back in dress uniform. Once you finish your academic studies, you will be officially sworn in as a member of the Elite Guard. Now, as you were, Lady Kai."

She saluted one more time, and practically floated back to the locker room, bubbling with excitement. She looked back one last time at Bo, and beamed at him. Bo returned the smile to her, albeit not with the same level of enthusiasm. Bo collected his helmet, and began to head back towards his changing room.

"Young Bo, was it?" the captain's words stopped Bo in his tracks, where he turned about, saluting him again.

"Yes, sir, it is," Bo replied, still slightly dejected.

"As you know, the winner of The King's Tournament gets an invitation to join his Elite Guard. However," the captain continued, "the King and I still observe the contest, in an attempt to scout out any other potential prospects. And while you may not have come in first, your perseverance, power, and quick judgement cannot be overlooked." Bo quickly began to stand just a little bit taller.

"The King and I have agreed that you are quite the young man, and would like to officially invite you to join us and Lady Kai in the Elite Guard, if you would so choose."

Bo was beside himself. The agony of defeat was promptly washed away by this unexpected offer to join the cream of the crop, just as he had hoped for the last few years.

"Sir, it would be my absolute pleasure and honor to serve at your side!"

The captain smiled a bit. "Good. Please, continue your academic studies, and come graduation day, you will also be sworn in as a member of the Elite Guard." The captain saluted Bo.

Bo replied with a sharp salute of his own. "Sir, yes sir!"