Chapter 9: Under the Winter
A shiver shook a small bit of the cold out of Chris as he walked along the path. A firmly packed snow road trailing on out of view as he marched. Glancing around, he could see the familiar sight of the Shepherds on their march again, wagons of supplies and individual Shepherds trailing along as usual, only now they did it through a winter-y landscape instead of the cool, yet thawed Ylissean roads.
All around them evergreen trees, covered top to bottom with snow, dotted the area. Occasionally, the relative silence he was used to by now would be broken by a sound, something like a bird's chirp or a loud crack as a branch fell from the snow's weight. He'd even seen the second one of those himself an hour or so ago as they were walking, something he realized he probably missed before when walking with his head in the book, though with the memory of what'd happened at the wall, he realized that wasn't too bad of a habit.
Memories of the last night, of the genuine toast Stahl had called for what he'd done yesterday, came back to mind as he tried to push down a soft grin on his face. He remembered blushing at all of the attention, trying to bring up Maribelle and Frederick for helping him, and Chrom for winning the duel. All of which they ignored, at least, for the moment. And even though he'd tried to ask them not to, he honestly couldn't say he disliked the feeling.
A feeling he didn't like anywhere near as much were the small pinpricks in his thumb, something he'd been annoyed about the whole day so far. Pulling his left hand out, he'd originally thought the cold would've numbed it out, making it more manageable as they got closer to where they were going. Or at least, he hoped it wouldn't make it hurt worse.
He quickly stuck his thumb in his mouth, hoping that that'd at least numb the stinging a little, just like it had last night. It probably looked weird to anyone else; he definitely didn't want to talk about why he was doing it to someone—
"Why're you sucking on your thumb like that?" Lissa asked behind him.
His thumb flashed down into his pocket, still stinging a bit as he instantly answered, "What do you mean by 'sucking on my thumb?' I'm not doing that."
"Uh, yeah, you were. Here," she pulled his arm out, revealing his thumb and the multiple tiny marks on it, "woah. What'd you do to get it like that? And why didn't you ask me or Maribelle about it?"
He quickly shoved his hand into his pocket again. "It's not something you guys need to do anything abou—where are you going?"
"You'll see!" she said back, already behind one of the carts nearby. "Hey, can I just borrow your staff for this? I could get mine, but I just threw it in the back when we were packing and I don't wanna climb up."
"Uh, I gue—wait, no, you don't need to heal this! I'm totally fine."
She hopped down from the cart, Chris' staff in hand as she jogged back over. "Come on, it'll only take a second."
"I'm serious, it'll be fine if I just leave it," he pleaded.
She placed her hands on her hips and leaned in, "Well, as the more experienced healer here, I'm going to patch it up." She grabbed his arm again. "Here, it'll only take a second."
He stuck his hands out to try and stop her, which only meant she could grab it even easier. "Wait, no stop—"
In that second, Lissa'd already poked his thumb, making him wince until he felt the familiar feeling of someone else's mana flowing into it. Slowly, the soft dulling of pain washed over his thumb as he watched the thin holes in his thumb close up. The flesh knitted itself back together in seconds and, after giving it another poke to see if she'd done it right, she nodded with a smile on her face.
"There, easy!" she said. "I still don't get why you didn't want me to heal it though."
"I-I just, well…" He took in a breath, mumbling, "It's not something you should have to deal with."
He stared back at the ground again, not looking up again until he heard Lissa hum. "Well, it's not like I'm doing anything better with my time right now." She shrugged. "Honestly, the whole thing seems kinda silly to me. I bet Maribelle'd agree too."
"I…" he trailed off, trying to think of some kind of reason before curling his finger back in. "Fine, I'll ask next time."
"Good, or maybe give us some warning next time you…" she looked lost in thought for a second, "Huh, you never said what you got those from. What was it?"
"Oh, well… I just got it last night," he answered, adding nothing else.
"...and?"
"And what?"
Lissa snorted, crossing her arms. "And what were you doing?"
His cheeks heated up a bit, but he tried to shake the feeling off. "It, uh… it doesn't matter."
Lissa gave him a weird look, but just shrugged, letting the sounds of the march take over from there.
And so they marched, Chris taking a look around at the different trees around them once more as they did so. At least until a loud laugh rang out from in front of them, reminding Chris of the person who was actually leading them where they were going.
Peeking around a cart, he noticed Raimi talking to Frederick about something. He couldn't really hear it from where he was, but from their faces and her laugh a few seconds before, he just assumed it was a regular conversation. Something he felt only a little weird about, even though she'd almost killed Chrom the day before.
"Say, what do you think of Raimi?" Lissa asked.
He turned, noticing she wasn't really smiling anymore. "I mean, she's fine, I guess. Why?"
"So, she hasn't done anything weird lately?"
"Uh, I just heard her laugh, but not anything I can think of. Why do you ask?"
She lifted an eyebrow as she leaned around the cart. "I mean, I put a frog in her armor a while ago, and I'm getting a bit concerned about it now, to be honest."
"Oh, yeah, I gu—" he straightened up, turning to her. "Wait, why'd you put a frog in her armor?"
She giggled a bit, a snort mixed into it as she explained, "Cause she seems like she's really grumpy all the time, so I thought that'd lighten her up a bit. But that was this morning, and we've been walking for long enough that I'm kinda worried about the little guy. Frogs aren't good in this kind of cold."
"I mean, that still sounds kinda rude. But I hope the frog is okay." He looked up ahead of them again, hoping to see something, at least, until a thought came to him.
"Wait, where'd you even get a frog up here?"
Her smile dropped, and a hesitant laugh slowly chuckled out of her as she mumbled, "Uh, well, I'm a princess, soooo… oh hey look, it's the capital, I think!"
She dashed ahead, leaving Chris curious for a moment before he sped up to see what she'd meant, stopping before he'd caught up as he heard Raimi clear her throat, yelling loud enough that Chris had to cover his ears.
"Arena Ferox is within sight. I'd much rather get you your meeting with the Kahn before the day ends, so pick up the pace!"
And once his ears stopped ringing, he managed to join them.
Giving a quick wave to the city guards behind him, Chris pushed himself to catch up with the rest of the group. He quickly made his way up closer to the front, trying to get a better view of the city than what he had in the middle of the pack. Up until then, all he'd seen of Ferox was the Longfort, which he assumed wasn't much like the city itself.
An assumption he quickly learned was wrong. Similar grey brick walls surrounded the entire city—ones even taller than the Longfort—that made sure the 'medieval fort' look of it stuck around. From the long, stone, snow-cleared paths to the houses, to the blazing torches outside of each of them, everything looked like it was prepared for battle at any moment.
Most of the houses were bare, aside from the occasional colored fabric or banner. The second of those showing a symbol of two wolf heads, cut in half by what almost looked like a sword's slash through it. At least, that was what Chris could notice, he still needed to keep up with everyone else.
Next, they made their way through the market, something that looked at least a little similar to what he remembered in Southtown's main square. A few stands and open buildings, shops of almost every kind. Tons of people, all decked out in furs, going about whatever they were doing. He even noticed a stand selling what looked like fabrics, and tried to remember that one for later.
And finally, they stopped at… wherever they were. Really, all it looked like was just more city, but now with a few more armored guards standing outside. He moved up closer to the front as Raimi started talking to them, but by the time he got there, they'd already opened the doors.
She nodded, and slowly Chrom, Robin, and herself led everyone else into the generic building. Inside, Chris only found a polished stone staircase reflecting the sunlight behind him into the cave-like tunnel below.
A long hallway followed, stone walls leading further and further into wherever they were. Torches blazed all along the walls, and Chris even started to shift his coat around as he noticed it was feeling a little too hot on him. Eventually, Raimi stopped at one of the doors and nodded over to it.
"Most of you will be staying in there until you can get your arrangements, one of the training rooms is to the door on the left, and food should be given whenever the cooks get it prepared. As for Prince Chrom and the kid, the Khan wishes to meet you two. Any questions?"
Chris blinked, slowly pointing to himself. "Wait, you mean me?"
"Yes, she specifically wanted to meet, in her words, 'whoever the fool is with the stones to talk a Feroxi captain out of a fight.'"
"Does she only want the two of us," Chrom asked, "or would we be allowed to bring more?"
"I doubt she would like it if every one of you showed up, though a few more should be fine," she answered. "I do recommend making a good first impression on her though."
Robin and Frederick stepped up to Chrom's side, as well as Lissa for some reason, but Chris didn't have time to ask why before Raimi started walking down the halls again.
After a minute of walking, with a few too many turns for Chris to wrap his head around, they reached a massive door, clearly reinforced despite how deep underground they must've been. With a knock, the doors opened, revealing an incredible, well-lit, massive room.
Dozens of torches and fireplaces burned along the walls, lined with different weapons ranging from axes, knives, spears, and swords. A few suits of armor sat around as well, each one polished enough that he could easily see the fire's reflection in them. They were also dented, for some reason.
A slamming open echoed through the hall, snapping Chris' attention towards it, and the person who made the sound.
She stood tall, turning to them and revealing her tanned face. Blonde hair frayed out behind her head as she started walking towards them. A steel sword—one nearly half her height—was propped on her white shoulder armor. Pinching the sword between her neck and shoulder, something that made Chris' hairs raise at how sharp it looked, she used both of her hands to tighten the red plates fastened to her entire right arm as she got closer.
As soon as she could, Raimi moved over to her side. Standing only slightly taller, she started, "These are the Shepherds of Ylisse, led by Prince Chrom."
Chrom took a step forward to talk, but was interrupted by her. "Well, I can at least see why you weren't all that impressed. But, I'm supposed to have manners." She adjusted the grip on her sword, lifting it off of her before planting it near her feet. "I am Flavia, eastern Khan of Regna Ferox. Your own introductions aren't needed, Prince Chrom of Ylisse, but you may give them if you wish."
"We're here for diplomatic reasons," Chrom said, "we might as well act like it. I'm Chrom Lowell, Prince of Ylisse as Raimi said. With me are my sister, Lissa; my retainer, Sir Frederick; and the tactician of the Shepherds, Robin." He turned back, stopping when he glanced at Chris. "Oh, and Chris, another Shepherd."
Raimi whispered something into Flavia's ear. Her eyebrow rose, and after whispering something back, she nodded and looked straight down at him.
"Then if you're this 'Chris', I have you to thank for avoiding a border skirmish with Ylisse. Especially so against the apparent strongest fighter in Ylisse, and after your duel, East Ferox as well." She huffed out a snort. "Well, second only to myself, of course."
Chris swallowed a lump in his throat, answering, "Um, yeah. I mean—" he pushed some confidence into his voice, looking up to meet Flavia's eyes. "Yes, I'm just glad that nothing went—nothing went wrong."
She looked down at him, scanning him with a gaze he couldn't figure out. A shudder ran through him under her, only for her to bark out a laugh. "Well, you got in with a duel anyway, so that only made the fighting personal. Though you still managed to somehow talk a Feroxi captain out of a proper battle, so that's worth something."
She turned to Chrom. "Regardless of what happened, I apologize for the trouble. Those damn Plegians have been harassing our borders for months now, and with our other half getting the most out of our trade with them, they are, hmm, I'll say less than interested in dealing with the problem."
He nodded, giving her a light smile. "Think nothing of it, though we'd prefer not having to do something like that again."
"Yes, I'm not sure that kid of yours there could handle something like that again," she said with a smirk.
Chris realized she was talking about him, stiffening, only for her to laugh loudly again. "Look at him now, like a deer surrounded by wolves. Relax, only the cold bites up here, and from what you've done I can see something in you." She paused, eyes narrowing a little. "Now that I think about it, maybe a winter in Ferox could do you some good…" she trailed off, tapping the guard on her shoulder.
Frederick stepped forward. "I do believe Chris' training is not the main point of our discussion."
"Sure sure," she waved him off, turning back to Chrom. "Now with that out of the way, I know you're here about Plegia as well. Raimi hasn't told me everything, but I'm assuming you want an alliance of some sort?"
"Yes. Just like you, we've been attacked by Plegian bandits for a while now. At this point approaching years," Chrom said. "And not just that, undead monsters known as Risen are roaming around the country. We've come seeking aid from those, as well as a possible war with Plegia if the need should arrive."
"Then I suppose you have found the right Khan for support. Still, that support will have to wait."
Frederick moved forward and asked a question. Though Chris turned away from the scene when he felt a tap on his shoulder, turning to see Lissa grinning at him.
He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering why she'd pulled his attention before she nodded to Raimi, and then at Frederick. The next moment, she stiffened up, just like the two of them who Chris now noticed were almost mirroring each other. Both stood tall and straight up next to the right of their own leaders, the same way Lissa was pretending to.
He almost choked out a snort, barely holding it down as he shot a halfhearted glare at Lissa. After hearing something about a tournament though, he dropped it, the idea pulling at a memory before he perked up.
"You mean the, uh, Khan tournament, right?" he asked, drawing everyone's attention to him, including Flavia.
"Yes, and here I thought I would have to explain everything going on in this country." She nodded to him. "Go on then. I'm still guessing you haven't told them about it."
"Oh, uh…" He tried to remember everything he could, from what little of the game he remembered, as well as the few books he remembered mentioning it.
"Well, the two Khans pick two people to fight every few years, and the one that picks the winner is in charge of the country." He glanced to the side. "But I don't really know much about it other than that—oh! Actually, wasn't it part of one of your older traditions? Dating back to when you guys were still barbarians. I remember that part of it pretty well, actually."
When he finished, he looked around, only to find everyone else staring at him wide-eyed. "What? Was it something I said?"
Frederick quickly sputtered out, "Khan Flavia, please take no offense to what he just said. I am certain he meant not to insult your people by calling them—"
Flavia then burst out laughing, Raimi at her side shaking her head, now placed in her hand. All while Chris was desperately trying to figure out what he'd done.
She slowly stopped laughing, looking down at Chris dead in the eye. "First you talk the captain of the Feroxi guard out of a fight. Then you call my people barbarians to my, the Khan's, face."
Chris' jaw dropped as a smirk crossed Flavia's face. "I was right about you, kid, you've got some serious stones."
The tension in the air left as Chris stumbled over an apology, but Flavia ignored him. "Outside of that, he was mostly right, at least the important parts. We select champions to fight every few years, and the battle determines who's allowed to be reigning Khan for the next term."
"Now, normally, you would be out of luck," she continued, pacing around now. "My worse half over to the west has been on a winning streak there for the past few terms, and with him still leading the country I might as well just yell at Plegia for all the damn good it will do."
She raised her finger, stopping on a dime. "But! That is where your good luck returns. The next tournament is within the coming few days. New spring; new chance for leadership. And more importantly for you lot, a new chance to kick Basilio out of his throne."
Robin slowly reached for her notebook. "And with the tournament coming soon, you'll need a strong champion to get yourself into power. Correct?" she pointed out.
"You're sharp, I'll give you that," she told her with a sharp grin. "Yes. I've need of a champion who can beat his. And as luck would have it, the best possible option for the position just so happened to defeat the previous champion in a duel yesterday." She jabbed her thumb towards Raimi.
She let out a sigh. "It was an honest duel, and one I lost just as well. I'd expect no one weaker to fill my position than the prince of Ylisse."
Chrom paused, looking down at Chris before nodding, his hand tightly gripped on Falchion. "Then if that's what is needed, you'll have myself and the Shepherds as your champions."
"Excellent! I don't doubt that old oaf will be out of a job before long!" She cheered, calming down as she added. "Though as a warning, Raimi was the strongest fighter in eastern Ferox, other than myself, and even she hasn't beaten Basilio's champion. And now the man's gotten himself a new one. Won't stop talking about the new kid's 'peerless skill with a lance,' I am almost certain he is doing it just to spite Raimi." She let a small chuckle. "Though maybe champions just were not meant to be lancers, who knows. All told, you'd best prepare for the tournament."
Robin, who now had a pen in her hand, was quickly writing something in her notebook as Chrom answered her, "We will, and thank you for allowing us this."
"Thank me by winning me the Khanship. This isn't Ylisse where your words are all that matter, your actions speak here," she ended, turning back to her throne.
"Right, we'll win it for certain," Chrom chuckled back, "and trust me, you're not the only one who prefers action to words."
She barked out another laugh, giving them a sideways glance. "You know, for a bunch of pacifists, you Ylissians have some bite to you," she said, finally leaving the great hall.
Raimi moved back to the door they entered from, nodding for the rest of the Shepherds to follow. As they did, Chris felt a tap on his shoulder, turning to see Robin behind him, eyebrows scrunched and notebook in hand.
"We need to talk."
"Oh, yeah, sure." He looked back around, seeing everyone file out of the doors as they closed behind them. "What do you need?"
"That'll wait until we find somewhere more private to talk, it involves what you… know," she said slowly. His eyes widened a bit in realization, and with a nod, they headed back to where the Shepherds were being held.
Chris faintly heard Chrom start explaining the tournament to the other Shepherds behind him as Robin tried to find one of the rooms they'd be sleeping in. After a weird look from one of the nearby guards, as well as Robin quickly stating that they were discussing strategy, for some reason, they were shown off to a side hallway and told to pick whatever room they wanted.
Moving for the closest one, Chris opened the door behind him, letting Robin duck under the doorway into the bare, cave-like room around them as she sat down on a nearby wooden chair. Chris noticed the small mattress resting on some carved-out stone and plopped down as well, making sure to dodge the torch on the wall before turning back to Robin.
"They must've gotten these rooms prepared fast," she muttered, leaning back into the chair and taking out her usual notebook, "unless these torches are just always burning. Though that's…" She leaned back and hummed. "That's something to talk to Miriel about, actually."
Chris nodded. "Probably, yeah. They're, uh, a little cave-y though."
"I suppose, but that isn't why we needed to talk."
"Oh, yeah. I'm guessing you want to know if I remember anything else, right?"
She nodded, taking out her notebook and frowning. "Not only that, but also thank you for saving us back at the Longfort, as I don't think I ever actually did that." He briefly tried to stop her, but she kept going. "I should've been more cautious of how a fully armed force would look to the guard. That much is my fault. If I'd done that, we might've gotten through completely fine."
"I guess." He shook his head. "Anyways, no, I haven't remembered much more. I think there was another Shepherd we got here. But other than that it's still just Marth showing up and fighting." Something wrong settled into his stomach, but Chris couldn't really tell what it was.
"That still lines up with what you mentioned back in Flavia's throne room." Her eyebrows furrowed, and she quickly flipped to another page of her book. "Actually, is there anything special you remember about Marth?"
"Uh…" he thought back for a moment, "did I say Marth is Chrom's daughter?"
Robin's pen clattered to the floor, her biting back some words as she picked it up. "No, you never did. Why wouldn't—actually, no, Chrom was there when you were explaining it, I doubt you wanted to mention that he has a child in front of him." She wrote something in her notebook again, pausing. "You said Marth is Chrom's 'daughter?' So she's a woman?"
"Uh, yeah. Oh, right, she wears that mask thing."
"That's what did it." She nodded, crossing out some things and writing new ones. "For future reference, does Marth have a different name? That one sounds masculine for a girl."
"I'm pretty sure it's Lucina, but it's still been a while." He thought again, nodding to himself. The name felt right at least.
Robin crossed out some more things before letting out a sigh. "I'll get to changing that later, anyways. I don't think this matters too much, so we can leave it to Mar—Lucina to answer herself, whenever she meets us again."
"Now that that's out of the way," she flipped to another page of her book, "do you remember what Flavia said about Basilio's champion? I need to confirm something."
"Uh… I know she mentioned his champion was strong. Also young." He perked up with an idea. "Maybe they're the next Shepherd that I mentioned earlier?"
"That's… something worth noting, actually. Though you probably forgot her words there." She wrote something off to the side, nodding to herself and scanning the page over again. "She said his champion had, quote, 'peerless skill with a lance.'"
Robin set her book in her lap, leaning closer to him. "You had to have noticed something off about that, right? That—"
Chris' eyes shot open in realization, jumping up from the bed. "The new champion couldn't be Marth, because she uses a sword!" he blurted, only to force himself back down again. "Uh, sorry."
"It's fine," she said. "Anyway, that's what I picked up. As you said, Mar—er, Lucina uses a sword, and even if she switched weapons, I highly doubt she could've traveled all the way up here, even if we did this in that other timeline."
She stood up, her boots clapping on the stone floor as she paced around. "You mentioned earlier that Lucina had others from the future come back with her, and as well that you apparently gave them directions in that future. So what if this is another one of those time travelers, and that they still made it into the tournament." She sat back down, leaning into the chair. "Assuming they want us to win is most likely a bad idea, there could be other things at play, after all, but knowing that alone should help. Regardless, I've got some planning to do for the tournament, so thank you for the help here."
"Yeah, you're welcome." He nodded, pushing himself off of the bed and moving to the door. Just before that though, he paused.
"Actually, could I ask a question?"
"Yes, sure," he heard behind him.
He took a second to think about his wording, asking it with the confidence he was getting used to pulling up. "In that letter, the one from myself in the future, I said we should try and move away from the story, right?" He turned around.
Robin perked up slightly, setting down her pen and looking at him. "Yes, he did. Why do you ask?"
"Then why are we here?" he asked, taking a step closer to her. "We're still just doing the same things, aren't we? I know you guys sent the, um, pegasus knights I think? You sent someone to Themis, but is that really enough?"
She looked up at him—something he wasn't used to seeing her do—and clapped her notebook shut. "I'm guessing this is leading into asking what our plan is?" He nodded, earning a sigh.
"You're right to want to know, but frankly, there isn't much of a plan in that regard."
He tried to ask a question, but she cut him off, adding, "I'm not saying we don't have any ideas, but at the point we're at, there aren't many options available to us."
She rose out of her seat, now pacing around the room. "As of now, our only options are to either prepare for war, or declare it. The second of those looks awful from a diplomatic standpoint, while the first is what we're doing here. Not to mention it's our best option overall because Ylisse doesn't have a standing army. Which is its own list of problems, but I won't get into that."
"The point of this being that, as I said, this is the only option we realistically have, even though it's not something you're comfortable with." She sank back into the chair, crossing her arms. "I even agree with that. You asking this did have a point though. It's my mistake for leaving you in the dark like that, and I really shouldn't do that with what you know. So I'll try to keep you informed on this kind of thing, alright?" she said with a genuine smile.
Chris stared at her for another moment before shaking his head, even harder than normal. "Uh, yeah. Thanks for that." He turned back, glancing over his shoulder again and asking, "Oh, and for explaining all of that."
She nodded. "Don't mention it. Now, I assume you've got something to do? Maybe find a room for yourself? I've taken over this one."
He nodded back, stopped halfway through the door. "I might actually try and do some, uh, training. I think Raimi mentioned they had some… some rooms for that earlier."
A few torches lined the walls of the training hall, flickering as Chris looked his sparring partner up and down. Donnel stood tall, but slightly off. Seeing the few lines of sweat falling down from him, Chris noted that he'd probably taken Frederick's past hour of training easier than he had. The light, tired feeling in Chris' arms, instead of Donnel's strong, firm stance, only proved that he was weaker—
Chris shook his head, he shouldn't be focusing on the small stuff. Donnel was staring him down, ready to spar, and this was the only way to get stronger anyway.
Glancing to the left, he saw Stahl give a smile Chris thought was encouraging, one he shot back. Then Frederick raised his right hand, a sign that was getting more familiar with every day as Chris got back into his fighting stance.
"You know the rules well enough," Frederick said. "First strong hit marks the victor. Stahl and I shall stand where we are and observe. Now, begin!"
Chris launched himself forwards, seeing Donnel tense up as Chris raised his sword high. In a form he'd been practicing for the past few days, he slammed his wooden sword down with everything he had, a loud crack echoing out as their swords clashed together.
Then he stepped back, not waiting for Donnel to respond before his sword crashed down again, and again, and again. He kept pushing, noticing the thin layer of sand under them get dusted around as Donnel backed off. Chris didn't stop though, not until he was almost at the wall, finally about to win his first—
Donnel broke his thoughts with a sudden thrust of his sword. Chris took a step back to dodge, but now his footing was off. With the second he had, Donnel pushed forward, ruining Chris' first rush as he was forced to slowly back away. He brought his sword up to block a stab meant for his head, barely ducking out of the way as he realized just how bad of a position he was in.
Chris jumped down into a small roll, stumbling, but managing to clear some distance between them as he readied his sword again. Now Donnel was taking quick, heavy breaths, though slightly lighter than Chris' as the same dull throbbing ache washed over his arms again.
Chris couldn't keep up a straight fight like he had been much longer. Aside from the torches and other weapons on the wall—both way too dangerous to use in a sparing match—the sandy floors under him didn't have many rocks in them. That, and after the snowballs from the last few matches, Donnel would be ready for it anyway. Checking everything else, including Frederick's words from before, Chris settled on something he was hoping Donnel wouldn't expect.
And also hoping he'd even be allowed to do it in the first place.
Charging again, Chris hammered his sword into Donnel's side, who just barely managed to bring his sword up to block it. This time though, Donnel immediately pushed back, thrusting forward again and once again forcing him back. This time, off of the sandy arena they had.
Not letting up, Donnel pushed himself as far as he could in a massive lunge. Chris barely managed to get out of the way of it, but he'd had to dodge away from Frederick and into the wall, almost ruining his plan.
Letting out a frustrated grunt, Chris dived down, trying to dodge Donnel's attack but just barely getting nicked in his shoulder. Instantly backing away, both of them looked over at Frederick—Chris over his shoulder—and took a second to wait for the match to end right there.
But it didn't, and just slightly faster than Donnel, Chris rushed forward again. Their swords met once more in a loud crack until he was forced to back up again, slowly inching his way backward.
And towards Frederick and Stahl.
He waited for Donnel to lunge forward again, and then instantly jumped back with everything he had, ducking behind Frederick. Stahl moved out of the way of the two, but Frederick held his ground, exactly as Chris hoped he would.
Donnel dug his foot into the ground, stopping himself before he crashed into Frederick, but also throwing off his balance. Chris instantly took the opportunity and jumped forward, crashing his sword down into Donnel's with everything he had, the crack louder than ever as Donnel was forced to take a large step back. Again, he charged, forcing Donnel closer and closer into the corner. Each strike as hard as the last, Chris kept thundering down.
"Just one more step and he's in the corner!" he thought, the grin on his face ear to ear with pride.
He pushed, slamming his sword one last time and sending Donnel's own down towards the dirt. Closer now to winning a sparring match than he'd ever been before, Chris stepped back, pulling his sword back for a wide sweep to finish the match.
Right into the corner, completely missing and smacking the wall to his side.
His jaw dropped, barely seeing that Donnel ducked under his attack. Chris quickly realized that he'd overextended his swing, and so had Donnel as he pulled his sword into an upward slash. The blade wasn't sharp—even bouncing off of the thin leather armor Chris was wearing—but it was enough.
"The match is over!" Frederick called out. "Donnel is the victor."
"Woo wee!" he cheered, planting his sword into the ground. "That was a close one there!" He stuck out his hand, a smile on his face as he adjusted the pot on his head. "You almost had me with your duck around Sir Frederick there, but you done messed up when ya backed off from me in the corner."
Chris shook his hand, looking back up to notice Stahl and Frederick walking up to the two of them.
"A good observation," Frederick added, gesturing off to the side, "one I do care to expand on, if I may."
They both plopped down, Chris almost laying back before propping himself up on his shoulders. Though after seeing Donnel sitting up straight, Chris pushed himself off of the ground and mimicked him.
"Good. First of all, Chris." Frederick turned to him. "As Donnel mentioned, your idea to run around me was a good one. It did rely on my not moving, something which could have been a flaw had I simply chosen to move—in fact, I'd no intention of not doing so at the start, though you fully committed to it. It was a clever maneuver; one that almost won you the match."
"That being said, you were far too committed to such an idea, taking an unnecessary glancing blow to your shoulder in the attempt. While in practice it would have cost you neither battle nor life, that only means it was not too great a mistake, instead of not being one at all. If you wish to fight with your mind, you must be ready to switch to a new plan if it becomes too difficult to pursue. You've many chances for victory, but short-sighting yourself on one will only spell your defeat."
Chris nodded, rubbing the sore spot on his shoulder as Frederick turned to Donnel. "Next, Donnel. You've improved considerably since you first joined, particularly in your offense. You nearly halted Chris' entire initial assault with that sudden push, a well-committed effort that could have cost him greatly had you pushed just a little more."
Donnel grinned ear to ear, but Frederick continued. "Despite that, he almost managed to corner you with his plan. Your defense without your usual lance is still poor, and as such almost cost you the match. You managed to barely pull through in the end, though do take care to be more thoughtful in battle, both in your defense, as well as offense."
The two nodded. Then, Frederick stepped back, allowing Stahl to take over. "Well, with your swordplay, you're both still too settled into your habits right now. Donnel, I can pretty easily tell that you're more used to a lance, since outside of that last hit you were pretty much only thrusting with your sword. It's definitely not a bad move, but if you rely on it too much it's pretty easy to counter."
"And Chris," he turned, taking a moment to scratch his head. "I'm, uh, not sure how to say this, but are you sure you want to use a sword?"
"Y-yeah? Is that a problem?" he answered, a little faster than he liked. "Sorry if that's rude, but yes. I do."
He nodded. "That's fine, but I really think you should switch off of them, or at least try something else out."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well…" he trailed off, scratching the back of his head. "I guess I'd say that you're using your sword like you would a club."
Chris waited a second for him to continue, which he did. "Sorry if that's vague," Stahl said. "I've only actually started training with axes recently. See, how you attack is that you keep hitting from the sides and especially over the top."
Stahl pulled out his own sword from the sheath on his back, swinging it from one side to the other before swinging downwards. "These are pretty good every once and a while, but they don't really take advantage of the sword's control. They work, but you'd need to stop overusing them or you'll just be predictable like you were in that fight."
"You could actually see it with Donnel's defense in that match. Frederick, could you help me show it?" He lifted up his sword to the side, nodding to Frederick who picked up a spare sword and swung it hard, a loud crack coming from it, but not much more. He quickly let out a few more, but each one was blocked. "See, no matter where he tries to slash at me from, I can block it easily from the sides. It's actually kinda the opposite problem Donnel has. The only difference is that a thrust or stab are less problematic than slashes since they're harder to block."
Frederick turned around and picked up an axe, adding on, "Though with an axe—if you could get into position, Stahl—you can use both its weight as well as all of your strength," he swung the axe at Stahl's sword, the force of it sending it flying out of his hand, "to break through the block, and far easier then you would with only a sword. Its added weight will tire you out, though for a healer endurance is rarely a limit. You've little use for such martial skill, especially so in the case of prolonged combat."
He put down the axe as Stahl moved to pick up his own sword. "Now do you see why I first recommended the axe to you? I will still train you in the sword if you so wish, but I do believe the axe may be a truer fit for you yet."
Chris was about to shake his head in response, but hesitated. As always though, his grip on the sword tightened.
"I'll just have to break out of that habit then, right?" he answered with a soft smile.
Frederick let out a sigh. "Very well, though be warned that you will find it difficult to break such habits. I'm frankly surprised by how ingrained they seem to be given your lack of experience." He turned back around nodding over to the side as Stahl followed him. "Now, get back into your positions. This time take what you learned and use it well."
He raised his hand as Chris stood up again, getting back into position and waiting for Frederick to start.
"And before we begin," he said instead, catching Chris' attention. "I know you've noted the torches and weaponry on the walls, Chris, and I will end the match if you dare throw any of them. I know you take well for utilizing the environment—and those around you, apparently—but do take care to not injure either Donnel or yourself. This is but a training match, nothing more."
Sputtering, Chris quickly tried to respond "I—!".
"Begin!" Frederick called.
Chris snapped up, and only had a moment to turn around before Donnel was on him. And through the clattering sound of swords and dirt being kicked up, he could barely make out Stahl chuckling behind him as he failed to block a swing from above as it crashed onto his head.
"And that is the match," Frederick said. He wasn't grinning, but his tone sounded like he was. "My only advice is to pay attention to your opponent next time. Do get yourselves ready to continue."
Chris blushed as he picked himself up off of the floor, but managed to smile a bit before they started up again, drowning out the embarrassment with the sounds of sparring as they went on.
He had an important fight to get ready for, after all.
Credit to LostDeviljho for the underground Arena Ferox thing. They pointed it out from I think smash and it honestly seems realistic for Ferox to do. It's also sick, so I'm including it.
Credit to Sushion (aka Bunni) as always for her wonderful help with this chapter, and as well to Ghep! Both these two, LostDeviljho, and many more wonderful authors, readers, and people in general can be found on the Fanfiction Treehouse (Discord code: 9XG3U7a) where we shitpost, and occasionally have wonderful conversations about fanfiction and writing in general.
Writing's going well, things are happening. Still trying to wrestle college and writing, but I'm surprisingly able to keep up my current pace. Hoping to accelerate it, but for now, this is how it's going. Until next time, and thanks for all the support!