Day of the tournament.
CHAMPION'S TOURNEY
PARTICIPANTS WILL ENROLL TO COMPETE FOR THE ULTIMATE PRIZE-
10,00 GOLD PIECES
AND
THE HONOR OF LEADING THE HUNT FOR THE BEAST
WINNER STARTS THE HUNT AT DAWN, THE HUNT ENDS WHEN THE HEAD OF THE BEAST IS DELIVERED TO THE KING.
FIGHT BRAVELY!
The people from the city met at the tourney camp just outside the kingswood on a muggy, early autumn morning. The dirt-filled arena had been used for many a tourney before, but none so big and celebrated as this one- with hundreds of entries made of distinguished knights, king's men, foreign fighters, hired swords, noblemen, paupers, the young man and old alike. Everyone wanted a shot at not just the prize money, but the glory of leading the hunt against the now infamous and feared Beast of the Wild Forest. So now the city was buzzing with prospective heroes suiting up for a day of combat to prove their worth.
Those who arrived early were lucky enough to snag seats in the stands that rose a couple of stories high, and everyone else had to stand outside the arena simply listening to the combat inside, some selling food, others performing music and poems... This tournament had become an impromptu holiday in this land. But why not, of course? This Beast was the mark of evil and it had attacked their beloved prince. The collective adrenaline flowed through the air like a breeze.
Inside the arena the crowd was in an uproar over the first defeat- or rather, the first victory. It was Gaspard himself, cousin to the king and the prince, a young nobleman with raven locks and bulging muscles and the attitude of an antagonized bull. With his sword he beat his poor opponent into the dirt in less than two minutes. On the other side of the field was an adjacent fight that carried on for longer. And so the day progressed through the winners and losers as the list of men left standing became shorter and shorter.
"You should've gotten us here sooner; we were supposed to have better seats!" Severa hissed to the Necromancer as they surveyed the crowd from the top of the stands.
"I can see perfectly from up here," the Necromancer replied curtly, "and it's my eyes that need to behold the winner, as it's my assigned task to assassinate them upon your wretched orders!"
"Don't complain; I am letting you off easy after your last blunder. You swore to deliver the girl from Blackhill but somehow she slipped through our fingers? And now this?"
The Necromancer rudely sucked air through his teeth. "That was your assistant that didn't fulfill the promise. I raised the dead and they attacked as I said they would. Your funny little elf friend failed to deliver the girl."
The Necromancer and the Enchantress abruptly stopped talking as a serving wench stopped and gazed at them. The crowd around them was too preoccupied with the tournament below to notice their conversation at all. Severa blew the serving girl a kiss and in a second the girl turned and wandered away, quite unaware of what had just happened.
"Riss will return with an explanation," Severa replied. "He knows what will happen if he doesn't. You see, he is a smart little elf, unlike you."
"I am not an elf."
"Nor are you smart."
The Necromancer spat on the floor.
The tournament progressed with mounting excitement as the sun dragged itself across the sky. Below the thousands of spectators Gaspard slashed, smashed and clashed his way through each opponent. King Peter himself had left his son's bedside to oversee the fighting and to crown the winner. Once there had been hundreds of men enlisted in the tournament; then there were mere dozens, and then a final twelve. The afternoon was growing hot and hazy.
And then came the final countdown:
Gaspard versus Sir Tanner; Gaspard versus Aaron of Sandhill; Gaspard versus Lord Meadows... he defeated them all.
In the shadow of the late noon Gaspard's final opponent stepped into the arena.
The crowd was hushed by now, the tournament drawing to a dramatic end. The figure was dressed head to toe in a strange, dark armor. He held on to his sword tightly as he met Gaspard at the center of the arena.
King Peter stood upon the dais, raising his voice for all to hear. "And now we will witness the last challenge of the day. This fight will not be to the death, of course—but don't hold back, for the Beast certainly will not. The fate of the entire kingdom lies upon the outcome of this tourney." He stepped back and took a seat, the nobles around him looking on in anticipation.
The horn sounded once for the combat to begin. Gaspard seized the last few moments to flash his muscles to the crowd before facing his opponent.
"Got a name?" He asked him, giving his sword a few practice swings through the air. "I want to know your name before I erase it from this kingdom."
The figure in the dark armor responded by kicking a cloud of dirt up into the air between them, and in a flash he checked Gaspard with a sword to the back of his knees. Gaspard gasped; he was not cut, but his opponent had unexpectedly slammed steel into his legs and he was caught off guard and subsequently humiliated; the crowd burst into laughter as Gaspard quickly recovered and spun around.
Their swords clashed the sound rung through the air. Gaspard's opponent was fast and imperceptibly strong. With every lunge and swing Gaspard missed, though he was sure he could defeat him with brute force alone. Gaspard could endure a fight longer than anyone he had ever faced. But it was clear this opponent in dark armor did not intend for it to be a combat of endurance; he met every blow with equal force, moving fast on his feet and swiftly through the dusty breeze swooping through the arena.
The spectators could no longer hold back and the arena filled with a thunderous uproar of stomping feet.
Gaspard's opponent ducked a blow and twisted around to lay his blade hard into his shield, knocking Gaspard's sword from his hand. He was a fighter no one had seen before, and his dark armor gave no clue to what house or land he came from.
It doesn't matter where he's from, Gaspard thought furiously as he snatched his sword up from the dirt, just barely dodging his opponent's next attack. Because I'm not going to send him back there; I'm going to kill him.
Hidden in Gaspard's belt was a small dagger. With one swift movement he snatched it free and flung it straight towards his opponent's chest.
For a moment suspended in time, the dagger rotated through the air towards the opponent in dark armor. It was a bulls-eye shot, for sure, Gaspard thought- it's going to hit him square in the chest!
But the dagger did something quite different: it changed directions and landed in the dirt.
The crowd gasped- but had they seen it? Had they seen what Gaspard had just seen? It was impossible!
"What the-"
And then his opponent laid in on him with a lightning fast attack, slashing at him faster than anyone had ever before. Gaspard lost his footing- and the next moment his opponent stared down upon him, the sun eclipsed behind his head. Gaspard's sword was now out of reach and his opponent's sword was resting lightly upon his throat.
A horn sounded; the crowd exploded. The tournament had been won.
King Peter leaped to his feet, applauding ecstatically. It was a long time before the arena was quieted again.
"Come forth so I may crown the champion," the king instructed to the figure in dark armor. Gaspard stood as still as a statue, silently seething as he watched the victor step up to the dais and take a knee.
"You have fought bravely and fairly," the king announced, "and so it is you will we trust to lead the Beast hunt. It will be your challenge alone to bring me the head of the Beast. Do you accept this task?"
The victor nodded.
The king beamed and the spectators applauded.
"Then it is done," the king announced. "Rise, and show us who you are."
The victor removed his helmet, his dark hair falling out to his shoulders. Way up high in the stands, Severa let out an audible shriek.
King Peter gazed at the boy.
"What is your name?"
Adrian gazed back up at him with matching hazel eyes. "My name is Adrian."
The king seemed momentarily taken aback. "Just Adrian, is it?" he asked.
He nodded.
"Well then, hand me your sword and we will make it official."
He did as he was told, and as the king saw the raven pommel he was struck again. He took the sword into his own hand and held it up, his eyes moving over the blade that was strangely familiar to him. His hand fit perfectly upon the raven pommel- it was his very won sigil when he was once a prince.
"Where did you get this?" the king whispered aloud.
"It was my father's," Adrian replied.
King Peter shook his head; don't be ridiculous, he thought to himself. Just because it reminds you of something you once had doesn't mean it is.
"I name you champion," the king said, placing the sword on each of Adrian's shoulders and finally upon the crown of his head. "And there will be a feast tonight at the castle where you are invited to come claim your gold. The hunt will begin at sunrise."
Adrian nodded and the crowd cheered for one last time. Gaspard watched from the shadows, his mind racing.
"It cannot be," Severa hissed to the Necromancer from their place in the stands. "Did you know anything about this?"
The Necromancer couldn't contain his glee. "I did not," he said. "But finally this is getting interesting."
In his dream, Stefan was floating upon the ocean surface. The water was impossibly clear- as if it were designed with billions upon billions of sparkling crystals that gleamed with the colors of the sea and the sky. It was warmed by the sun, and his body was weightless upon the fizzy foam.
I have always dreamed of this, he thought. This is freedom. It is death. Death is...
an adventure.
But the sea began to disappear, and the warm water fell away from him, and the billions upon billions of shimmering crystals transformed into the harsh glare of sunlight falling through his window. Stefan woke up.
Marius was there, reading a book at his bedside. "How do you feel?" he asked.
Stefan took a deep breath as he sat himself up. "The fever is gone now, but it will return."
"You need to take something for the pain," said Marius. "If you don't have a lot of time left you can't spend it in pain."
Stefan shook his head. "I can't take anything else. I'm leaving today."
"What?!" Marius stood up.
Stefan slipped out of his bed and steadied himself on his feet. "Good," he said, "I can still walk at least."
"This is a joke."
"No," said the prince, taking a deep swig of water, "I'm not dying here, and I'm done saying goodbye. I can't do any of this anymore- do you understand? I have to go."
"Where?"
Stefan threw him a mischievous glance. "You know exactly where. Did you find my father's map?"
"I didn't," said Marius, "he's too suspicious- he hid it somewhere new this time, besides you know he was planning on taking it himself."
"Damn it!" Stefan swore. "We need to find it- today. While he's occupied with the tournament and feast. Will you help me?"
Marius shook his head and placed his hands on his hips. "Okay," he said at last. "Fine. Let's find the map."
Stefan grinned, though the pain was slowly coming back to his body.
The twilight was setting into the sky as I watched the castle staff prepare for the feast from my window. A victor had been crowned to hunt the Beast- the mysterious Beast that plagued my dreams, the monster of the forest.
But all I could think of was Stefan.
When my parents died, it was unexpected. I didn't have a thought in the world of them leaving me until suddenly they were gone, vanished into the forever. So I never understood the pain one feels when they know someone is going to die. When you know someone is going to die, it's the first thing you think of when you wake up. It's a sharp pain behind every smile and good thought- it tears away at your insides agonizingly slow. It was a pain I didn't know existed and now that I felt it I had no means of escape.
Why does everything I touch turn to dust? I thought bitterly. The prince will die because of me.
Tamsin urged me to attend the feast. "You need to focus on being well yourself so you can sort out that business with your sisters and reclaim your home," she advised. She was wise beyond her years.
Her seamstress had created a beautiful green dress with flowing sleeves and golden ties for me. Tamsin urged me to wear my hair down. "Only a princess wears her hair down," she said with a wink. I managed to smile.
By nightfall the castle had filled with guests, music, and the wafting smell of the feast. I waited around to see if Stefan was well enough to join us, but he never came.
"Just give him time," Tamsin said, leading me down the stairs towards the dining hall.
He doesn't have time, I thought morosely.
The dining hall was filled to the brim with guests and light, the activity spilling outside onto the garden terrace. We took our seats at the usual table- but no one else was there; Gaspard, Marius, and of course Stefan were all missing.
"What a day it's been," Tamsin said with a sigh, grabbing two goblets of wine off the adjacent table and handing one to me. "Not even the queen is here."
"Wasn't Gaspard enlisted to compete today?"
Tamsin giggled and nodded. "Ah yes, I forgot about that. That's probably why he's not here."
"Did he win?" I asked.
"Of course not," she said. "Someone else did. Isn't it wonderful?"
We laughed.
After dinner and a few cups of wine to wash down the bad thoughts, I wandered outside to the garden and sat down on a bench near the towering hedges of the maze. The moon was full and bright like it was the night of the ball, when I first met Stefan. Except that had been a summer moon, and it was now autumn and everything was so, so different.
I lost my whole summer, I thought, gone with my memory.
I fingered the hidden token inside my dress pocket, thinking for a long time. Eventually someone sat down next to me.
"What would you say if I told you I could help you remember?" said the stranger.
I glanced at them sideways, though they were enshrouded in the tall hedge's shadow. "Excuse me?"
"I know you're missing something," they said. "I can help you find it."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes you do."
I stood. "Who are you?"
They stepped forward into the paling moonlight. "My name is Adrian."
You don't know this person, my mind told me. And so I took a step back in distrust. He was tall with dark hair, and- and- YOU DON'T KNOW THIS PERSON.
"And your name is Mary," he said.
"What do you want?" I asked carefully.
He could be the someone who is looking for me... He could be working for the Necromancer...
He stepped forward. "I want you to be safe."
"And why wouldn't I be safe?" I countered.
"Because you're not wearing the necklace," he said.
I froze; what did he just say?
"Look," he said, taking yet another step closer, "I know you don't know me. But I know you. And I know that you have it. You promised you would wear it to be safe- all I'm asking is that you keep your promise."
My mouth was dry but my palms were sweaty, my head spinning- too much wine? No- not enough...
"I didn't promise anything," I said with frustration, "I don't even know who you are."
"Look at me," he said.
So I did. His hazel eyes locked onto mine and for a moment I wondered- do I know you?
No. No. NO!
"I have to go."
"Mary," he said as I turned to go. I stopped.
"Please. Wear the necklace. If you wear it then I can help you remember!"
I DON'T know you!
My hand was in my pocket. The necklace was there.
I hesitated, and then turned back to him.
"What if I don't want to remember?"
He shook his head. "I know you. A different you- and she would want to remember."
Remember what? I thought. Being captured by the Necromancer? Watching Stefan get mortally wounded? Remember the wild beast in the forest? Remember killing Lorna?
No.
I refuse to remember.
I drew the necklace out of my pocket and held it in the palm of my hand. The rose pendant glittered in the moonlight.
"I don't want it anymore," I said. "So here, take it back."
The boy named Adrian stared at me incredulously. "Don't do this," he said.
"I've made up my mind," I said simply. "Take it or don't. I'm done being apart of these riddles." I let the necklace fall into the grass and I turned away without looking back, my heart beating so loudly in my chest that all the voices around me became a monotonous blur.
What just happened? WHAT JUST HAPPENED?
As I stumbled back into the brightly lit dining hall I ran into Tamsin.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, examining me cautiously.
"Tamsin," I said breathlessly. "I have something I need to tell you."
High up in one of the castle towers, Marius and Stefan secretly slipped into the king's quarters.
"Okay," said Stefan, "I know the map is in here somewhere. Let's hurry."
Marius nodded, and they began their search.
To be continued.