2 Elias in Islington

"Elias, watch out!"

The warning, to Elias was as needless as the swing Aidan took at him. Elias swiftly dodged the small blade aimed for his side and closed the distance quickly again, his fingers clung to the wrist of the hand that held the weapon and his foot hooked in Aidans. He pushed, knocking his older brother and making him stumble and land down.

In this small town, so far away from that of Michael's, only two things of importance existed among boys his age; one was drink and the other was fight.

Islington was a smaller town on the outskirts of Barosnis yet it was the birth place of so many of the kingdom's defenders. This status that came with the small town was compelling motivation for the younger boys, and even some of the girls to continue the practice of being the kingdom's largest supplier of warriors.

Elias had no doubt that he would soon be one of the many put on the pedestal of one of the greatest. He worked hard and had a better knack for it than some had seen in a long time. Yes, Elias was brimming with untapped potential and the smug smile on his mouth as he looked on at his indignant and much bulkier brother who now lay in the dirt, out of bounds of the make ring drawn in dirt, showed that Elias was well aware that he was special.

"Did you see how fast Elias was?" one of the others boys cried out. Elias looked toward the small crowd of boys that had gathered, a single  girl, half his age, with the same blonde hair as his stood in their midst. Her arms were crossed and her cheeks were puffed out.

"What's wrong, tomato?" Elias called out to his smallest sister. "I thought you'd be happy I beat Aidan!"

"You went too easy on him!" she yelled back, arms still crossed and huffing. "He hurt me earlier, pulled my arm, he did!"

"Come off it, you shouldn't be running around all day playing." Aidan said, dusting off his clothes and frowning. He was a tall boy with a naturally good build, but he was more suited to farming than fighting. "You ought to be helping a bit now!"

"Enough squibbling, all of ye!" The door to one of the houses across from them swung open and Elias' grandfather, "Old Alan" stepped out. "That's enough show, I'm well aware ye have better things to be doing than standing around, don't ye?" He called out to the small group of Elias' admirers. Alan was retired knight who had never been keen to teach his own son or the rest of Elias' brothers had given in.

"The rest of yer brothers weren't that difficult to deter, but ye insist on having the sense knocked out o'ye, don't you Elias?" Alan said, his hand coming to his mouth and wiping bread crumbs, only to have them fall into his beard.

"Come on, grandad, it's just a bit of fun and game-" Elias began but stopped when Alan picked up the blade Aidan had used. "It was to give him a fair chance!" Elias said, holding up his hands even before Alan had spoken.

Every few years a tournament was held in Trough, the largest town of Barosnis. Trough was the closest to the palace, situated right on the King Richards doorstep and held many competitions, but the one upcoming was important to Elias. It was when upcoming fighters had the chance to fight and win a chance to enter into becoming part of Barosnis' greatest fighters.

This wasn't his grandfathers ideal dream for him but Elias knew that it was the only future he wanted. He could close his eyes now and he would be standing before the King, being knighted. He would fight for Barosnis, even now when the famish had caused so many to leave and search for a better life. This was it, it was about surviving now- it was about who would be left standing. Who truly loved this dying kingdom enough to bring it back from the state it had fallen to.

His green eyes met with his grandfathers cold blue ones and the unspoken of how little time was left until Elias' chance came was exchanged between them.