Quill 1: The fencing school

The people jostled together in the crowded bus. Little did they notice that a certain passenger didn't get off for any of the stops. "Amazing! I can't believe my luck." Cyrara said as he stared at the poster:

FENCING TORNAMENT WEDNESDAY: COME AND TEST YOUR SKILLS! KEETH SMART (slight change…. Made up character now. Changed to miyashi motomusa(play on miyamoto musashi famous Japanese swordsman)) THE #1 FENCING MASTER WILL BE THERE TO CHALLENGE THE WINNER. "Fencing is all right I suppose, to get a feel for these pekopon's abilities." Cyrara said. "Hey, buddy are you going to get off the bus or not?" The bus driver called back to him. Cyrara was alone on the bus. "I'm allowed to stay on as long as I want," he replied, "I paid my fare so you should have no complaint." Nevertheless he left the bus. "If only I had my sword then, I'd show him." Cyrara muttered and started to head home.

"Hey, you're back!" Bretete looked up from his magazine and watched as Cyrara removed his shoes. "I found great news today," Cyrara said hanging up his coat, "it is not but a month we are here and the pekopons have established a tournament, a fencing tournament!"

"What a coincidence! I'll be there to watch." Bretete said.

"That would be a pleasure to know that you are in the audience my friend."

"How many will be there?"

"Oh, I expect a hundred or so."

"A hundred? And you will challenge them one after the other?"

"I suppose I'll have to, since you cannot challenge one against all in a tournament."

Cyrara flopped down next to Bretete and started to write. Bretete watched him for a while and turned back to his magazine.

"Tomorrow, what is the day?" Cyrara asked. "Wednesday. Why did you ask?" Bretete flipped a page in his magazine. "Wednesday….snoozeday? no…newsday? No, the third day! I have it! Listen Le Bretete, I have composed a poem!"

"I'm all ears." Bretete said laying down his magazine

"Tomorrow of the week is the third day,

In which I will go to a tournament and hold sway,

All the beaten fencers will portray,

Me no more as a stranger, but the épée, a master of today!"

"It's amazing that you can come up with that short poem in just but a matter of seconds." Bretete admired. "Yes. My hand is quivering in anticipation for tomorrows fencing." Cyrara said.

The next day rolled around. Cyrara and Bretete put on their suits and walked to the fencing school. A fairly large crowd had gathered there by then and a woman with a speaker was calling out instructions. "Everyone! Please listen," the woman said into the microphone, "We need to get you all organized so we can start the matches on time! Who ever is new to the school or new to fencing, move to the left side of the room."

Cyrara smiled to himself and moved to the left. He was the only one.