16 What I Was Built For

Clay:

So... soft.

I had never slept this well before in my life. It was like all of these years, all of these nights I had experienced before were not real slumber. I only understood that now as I lay in this bed.

Why… am I so comfortable…?

My mind fogged as I became in this state of half-sleep, half wakefulness. I knew I was in a bed, but I couldn't remember why. I opened my eyes just a crack; the light hitting them and blurring my vision. When I did, I saw a sight that made my heart leap into my throat.

A man towered over me, his fist at the ready. His eyebrows knit into that wrinkled forehead of his. Short, light hair with that receding hairline making him look even older than he already was. The shout echoed in my ear, muffled to a point where I could not understand what he was saying, but a shout that could only have belonged to that... horrifying man.

In a moment I was fully awake, my eyes shooting open wider. As soon as they did, I noticed the figure that was towering over me was not what I saw only moments before, not a fist but an unthreatening open palm. I was met with a smile. Long, light hair with a young-looking face. His warm voice taking over the muffled shouts I previously heard.

"Hey! Sorry man, didn't mean to startle you." Lynne greeted.

"Y-You!?" I grumbled, still disoriented. I sat up in the bed and looked around the room. That girl that treated my injuries was gone. "What are you doing here? Where's that girl?"

"I didn't see a girl when I walked in," Lynne explained, running his hand through his hair. "But… I spoke to my father."

My tenseness dropped and my mind cleared of its sleepy, clouded thoughts. The boy standing before me, the boy I had saved from that warehouse… the boy I had lived with for days, was officially the prince of this kingdom. "Alright. What did he say?"

Lynne explained everything that happened. Maybe even with too much detail. He described the castle as he walked through it, what was going through his mind while he opened the King's door. Everything his father had said to him down to the last detail. It took a long time, but at least I had a good image of everything that happened.

"So I'm gonna get to fight somebody here, huh?" I responded when Lynne finished his story. I tried not to blush after hearing how hard he fought for me to stay… after Lynne told me so nonchalantly that he told his father I was the one that knew him best.

I was not going to let him down. I couldn't after hearing all that.

Without warning, the door to the infirmary opened once again. This time it was a different door that opened, one that lead to the inside of the castle. Standing there with reddened cheeks was that dark-skinned girl, which treated me early. She was wearing a different outfit now, instead of the bland grey uniform she wore before she had a long, bright pink tight shirt and a yellow belt around her waist to make it even more form-fitting. Just underneath her chest, there was a yellow plus, the same colour as the belt. The pants she wore were burgundy leggings, the colour almost matching her hair.

It took me a moment to remember her name, but watching her shift around shyly brought it to my mind again, Isabella.

"I heard talking. I'm glad you're awake." She said, her voice so low that I needed to focus to hear her. When the girl glanced over at Lynne, her eyes widened, crossing her legs into a polite curtsy and bowing her head. "It's an honour to meet you, Prince Charlton. My name is Isabella Iris."

I glanced over at Lynne, who stiffened at the display of worship. His lips pressed together.

"Ya, I'm awake," I interjected, trying to loosen Lynne a bit and stop her from curtsying. "Why?"

"We have been informed there is a duel to take place, in order to see if Clay will be welcomed in this academy," Isabella explained. As soon as she did, another person emerged from behind the door. It took me a moment to realize that it was a girl. 

She had masculine features, broad shoulders which were accentuated by the pinkish-red fluffy material around them. Her hair was just as short as mine, spikey, dark purple with deep violet eyes, her skin a tanned golden brown. She wore a rather loose-looking purplish, reddish shirt with that same fluffy material at the bottom. This girl also had a short black cape draping off of one shoulder that was quite usual for noblemen to wear. Her bottoms were black tight shorts that hugged her upper thighs, stopped just at the top of her kneecap.

The girl took a bow towards Lynne, bowing like a knight instead of a princess. "Cecilia Winfielde, your highness." She introduced herself, but as quickly as she did, she stopped. Something about the rushed introduction made me believe she did it out of simple necessity more than true devotion. "Not that I agree with the king's decision, as I do not believe it is a good idea to allow an outsider to stay here any longer. Especially one who does not hail from a noble family." She said, her voice sharp and commanding. It was deep and gruff, barely resembling a woman's.

"C-Cecilia! I… I don't think it is… proper to question the king's decisions." Isabella chimed in, her voice squeaky and tense like she was nervous. "Especially in front of his son."

"Alright alright. You've got a point." Cecilia grumbled, waving her hand at Isabella. "I was told to ref your little duel." She explained.

"Sounds good," I responded, standing from the bed.

"Hold on! Clay just woke up! And you expect him to fight right away?" Lynne exclaimed.

"King's orders," Cecilia responded with a shrug, seeming rather detached from the whole situation. "Come with me, Clay. You can choose whichever sword you'd like from our armoury." She said, motioning me towards her. "How this little match is going to work, is whoever I deemed has 'killed' the other first will win the duel."

"I'll be fine, Lynne," I said, a smirk across my face. "I'm gonna destroy all of them. I'll beat anybody who dares to challenge me." Lynne still looked a bit worried, but I got him to give me a firm nod.

I could picture it now. My opponent's bloodied body at my feet, crumbled and deformed. My blood ran cold. I was used to this. I was excited to prove myself, to fight in a duel again.

This is what I was built for.