The Swordsman's Meeting.

BRETVER 23RD YEAR 48 ASMERIAN CALENDAR

Jackson woke up, warm from his blankets, and Alice laid with him fast asleep. He grunted as he rolled his sister off of him. She looked so peaceful when she slept, if only she weren't a cripple, they could play like they used to. After he stretched and gathered his thoughts he got out of bed and walked downstairs where his father was wide awake and cleaning the living room. "Ah, son, I see that you're awake," Connor said. "Come and help me clean the house, son."

"Okay, but why are we cleaning this early in the morning, father?" He asked as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Because I want to surprise your mother, and I bet she wouldn't mind having us do it for her for once."

"Okay, what should I do then?"

"Take a wet rag and wash the windows."

"Yes, father," Jackson responded. He washed the windows all around the house with incredible speed, all except his parent's room. He stood before the door to his mother and father's room and opened it ajar and quickly glanced inside. His mother was still asleep so he entered. Some water from his pale spilled out onto the floor; he froze in place. Fearing that he had awoken her but Veronica remained asleep, with gentle movements and a talent for being quiet, he mopped up the water. It wasn't long before he finished with the window and all of the ledges where dust collected and exited with the stealth of a ghost. He headed into his room to check on Alice, who was still fast asleep in his bed. He shut the door behind him as he headed back downstairs.

Connor had finished with his part of the cleaning and had grabbed a glass of water. He rested on the sofa and watched the sunrise above the horizon. Jackson sat down next to him and watched the sunrise with his father. "You're done already?" Connor asked.

"Yes, father, I even did your room as well."

"Wonderful son, that's just wonderful," Connor said as he wrapped his arm around Jackson. "You're mother is quite a heavy sleeper so I don't think there was ever a chance of you waking her."

"Thank you, father."

"So, are you ready for the day?"

"Yes, I'm excited to fight the elf, Sir Jodi, again, and Mister Miller is still in the event as far as I'm aware," Jackson said, Connor pulled him closer, proud of the man he was growing up to become.

"Ah, I see then. Son, you do realize what a peiron sword means, right?"

"No, father, what does that mean?"

"If you were to win that sword, it would be by far the most valuable possession in the household worth up to twenty-five Caton Gold coins."

"Really?" Jackson asked out of shock.

"Yes, son, it is rare and expensive for a peiron longsword to be constructed. The current rate for an arming sword of the same material is far less due to the amount of material being significantly less than a longsword. However, you should still try to win it from him and take it for yourself, but that's the merchant in me talking. you just do whatever you feel is right, son."

"I will, father."

They sat on the sofa for a while longer, and eventually, Alice and Veronica both woke up. They all had a large breakfast together. Today was going to be different, however. Veronica and Connor were going to have to watch over the store, and Alice was going to have to go with them. Jackson made his way out alone this time. The sun shined a bright and warm light over everyone and everything. There was not a cloud in the sky, and there was a general mood of joy among everyone in Greendale. Jackson decided to head to the North gate to meet Mister Miller as he entered the town today so as not to miss him.

Miller woke up with Ruby next to him yet again. The sun was high in the sky, and the clock read 9:00. He gently shook Ruby. "Come on, lass, time to get up." He whispered as he rocked forwards and to his feet. His clothes were already prepared for the day. They were fine clothes that weren't too flashy while still being of a much finer quality than anyone else's. His maroon shirt and black trousers were typical garbs for the nobility of Gregoria. They were expensive and the red of his shirt would show through the armor he would wear in the tournament.

"Is it morning Mister Miller?" She asked as she sat up.

"Aye, it is, and we have a guest, so let's get up and eat. I've got an hour before I've got to go to town." He said as he stood up. They walked into the living room and were greeted by Audrey, having already made breakfast. "Good morning Sir Miller." She said as she bowed.

"What is this here lass, ya didn't have to make me my breakfast," Miller said as he entered the kitchen.

"It was more for me since you were asleep for so long, and I just made extra for you and your daughter," Audrey said as she fixed her plate.

"No, um, Ruby ain't my daughter. She's a Varin that I freed from a nasty Luccian merchant."

"Woah, really? Did you kill him and take her with you?

"No, not even close, the bastard was just being a prick and unsightly. I simply put the fear of Gregoria into him and he ran with his tail between his legs."

Miller sighed and grabbed a plate of food, and he also fixed a plate for Ruby. He sat down at the table opposite Audrey, and Ruby sat next to him. She was starving and cleaned her plate before both Miller and Audrey. She glanced up to Miller if only to ask for a second serving which Miller was happy to give her. The food wasn't anything special but it might as well have been the best food Ruby ever had. Audrey was impressed by her appetite as she finished her first serving of pancakes and eggs.

"I don't suppose that you were well fed by your last master?" Audrey asked after seeing how Ruby treated her food. She just ignored Audrey and drank a cup of milk. "I don't think that I've introduced myself, have I? I'm Audrey Barker, and I'm fifteen. I go to a school in Westfield; it's one of the best schools in the country."

"I'm Ruby, and I'm Thirteen or twelve, I don't know," Ruby said shyly.

"Well, I'm pleased to meet you, Ruby. For a slave, you're being treated-"

"She's not a slave, nor will she ever be again." Miller interrupted.

Audrey sat silent as she realized her mistake. "It's fine, and I know I'm being treated well," Ruby said.

They finished their breakfast in silence and cleaned up after themselves. Miller's house was pristine and cleaner than most nobleman's. He prided himself on cleanliness and looking presentable in everything except for clothing. He finished up and grabbed his armor and sword.

"What are you doing with those?" Audrey asked.

"I'm in a swordsmanship competition for the festival lass. I intend to win so that I may keep my sword, but if I should lose, then it shall go to a lad who's far more skilled than myself."

"And who might that be, Sir Miller?"

"A young lad Jackson Scottkey, he trained in the capital for a few years if I'm not mistaken, and I believe that he may just be the best in the land."

"I see, I should like to meet this young lad."

"I'm sure ya will lass." He said as he finished with his things. "Ya ready to go into town, you two?"

"I'm ready, Mister Miller!" Ruby exclaimed.

"As am I." Said Audrey. "Where are we going first, Sir Miller?"

"The first thing I have to do is the Swordsmanship competition, then we'll go watch the horse races," Miller said as he opened the front door.

"We see the horse's race Mister Miller?" asked Ruby with excitement.

"I told you we would lass."

"Yay!"

Miller led the girls to the walls of the town and through the north gate. To his dismay, Jackson was waiting for him and had forgotten to wear his helmet. "Hello, Mister Miller!" Jackson said as he greeted him.

"Hey, there kid, what are you doing here?"

"Well, I was waiting for you, but I didn't see you yesterday."

"Who is this boy Sir Miller?" Audrey asked.

"This is the lad I told ya about this morning; his name is Jackson."

"Ah, I see, it's a pleasure to meet you, Jackson. I'm Audrey Barker, and I go to Westfield School."

"Likewise, Barker, I'm Jackson Scottkey, son of Connor Scottkey and apprentice to James Scottkey."

"Please, just call me Audrey."

"My bad, and who might you be?" Jackson asked Ruby.

"I'm Ruby, and I live with Mister Miller." She said shyly.

"Wait, you're a Varin, aren't you?"

"I-I am," Ruby said, frightened.

"Don't be scared. I've never met a Varin, and I think I'm lucky for having met you." Jackson said as he looked in awe at her ears and tail.

"You do?"

"Yes, but not everyone is like me around here, so you better stay close to Miller."

"I know."

"Speaking of which, you never said that you knew a Varin Mister Miller."

"Well, I didn't know her since the day before yesterday," Miller said as he crossed his arms.

"How did you two meet?"

"She was, and I mean was a slave, then I freed her from her Luccian dog of an owner."

"So, she's your slave now is what you're trying to say?" Jackson asked disgruntled by the thought of Miller being a slave owner.

"Calm down, she's not my slave, nor is she a slave to anyone anymore." Miller retorted.

"That's a relief to hear, Mister Miller. I'd hate for you to lower yourself to slaver scum." Jackson sighed.

"Aye, it would be a cold day in hell, wouldn't it kid? Now, let's get on our way before we forfeit anything." Miller said as he started walking towards the arena.

They made their way to the arena; it was just as busy as the day before. Jackson split off from Miller and the girls. He headed for his fighting station on the other side of the arena. His armor was waiting for him along with the black cloak that his father had lent him.

He donned the armor for the second time and looked around. It was a lot more nerve-racking being alone than with his family. He was not able to focus as he was putting on his armor and continuously made mistakes. He glanced at his hands, and he was shaking. Jackson took a moment to breathe and relax. He remembered what it was like on his first time dueling his uncle.

The elven knight was also very skilled, and he was almost too much for Jackson to keep up. Elves were feared by any swordsman—they lived in Bowing Woods, which was home to fierce monsters such as Orcs and Quilins.

Jackson waited for the referee to show up. Sir Felaern Jodi was standing across the fighting station and had noticed Jackson looking in his direction. He waved and proceeded to put on his armor. Jackson returned the gesture and stood up. He entered the fighting station and practiced a few strikes with his longsword.

He calmed his nerves and relaxed after a few swings. The referee walked up behind him and patted him on the back. "How's it going young one?" The Felaern asked.

"I'm well, sir, how are you?"

"I must admit that I'm rather excited to fight again."

"Oh, I hope not to disappoint you, sir."

"I'm sure you won't see lad. Yesterday was very exciting for everyone. Sir Fjord was so impressed that he got some of the Head Judges guards down here to watch you."

"Really?"

"Yes, you are very skilled for being so young. Where did you learn how to fight like that?"

"My uncle James Scottkey is the commanding Knight of the order of Asmeria and is the one who trained me. So, I had the best mentor in the land."

"I thought that there was some relation to Sir Scottkey and you."

"Yes, sir, do you know my uncle?"

"I do actually, I also know mister Connor Scottkey."

"You know my father?"

"Yes, he took my daughter from me a long time ago and returned her to me as a more learned woman, she now rules as the minister of mages in the bowing woods."

Jackson stood in his starting position, and Felaern entered the fighting station. Jackson just needed to win one round against the elven knight, and he would move on to the next bracket. The referee stood up on his podium and raised his hands.

"Everyone, may I have your attention, please." Said the referee. "We will be continuing from where the fighters left off from yesterday's part of the event. As such, the contestants who were in the middle of their fight shall keep their scores from yesterday. Mister Scottkey here only needs to win one more round before he moves to the next bracket, as you can see on the event boards around the arena."

Jackson took up a close guard stance and readied himself for what the elf and his rapier threw at him. He gripped his longsword tightly with both hands and thought up a strategy. He was going to bait Felaern into getting close enough to where we would be unable to stab at him and then grab his sword repeatedly.

"Contestants, fight!" The referee barked.

Jackson stepped into the middle of the fighting station and kept a close eye on Felaern's footing. You could tell when someone was going in for a strike because they'd put more spring into their knees. Felaern sprung forwards, and Jackson caught his blade. Jackson stepped into his thrust, and Felaern fell forwards as Jackson swept his legs from under him.

Jackson went to jump on top of Felaern, but the elf got to his feet incredibly fast. Jackson closed the gap yet again and waited for his chance. The crowd was roaring with screams of excitement and cheers of admiration.

Felaern thrust into Jackson again, and Jackson barely managed to grab hold of the thin blade. Felaern pulled back, and Jackson moved with him. Felaern fell backward as he lost his footing, and Jackson, who was still holding onto the blade, fell forwards and snapped the thin blade in two from his weight.

Jackson quickly stood to his feet and saw that he still had the end of the blade of the sword in his left hand. "I'm so sorry, Sir Felaern." He said as he dropped the blade.

"Oh, you're fine, young one. It was bound to happen, whether it was you or someone else." Felaern said.

"I can pay for it, Sir, it wouldn't be a problem," Jackson said as he aided the elf up.

"Young one, I have plenty of other swords and arms. There's no need to buy another; besides, you've given this aging elf enough payment." Felaern said as he placed his hand on Jackson's shoulder.

"I don't understand, Sir Felaern."

"You'd understand if you were my age. It is hard for any elf elder to find the excitement and joy in anything we do and you young one, you've given me the thrill and excitement that I had sought out for a long time. I have been wanting to meet you for a long time, my child, now I must bid you farewell."

"The match goes to Mister Scottkey of Greendale!" The referee exclaimed to the crowd. The crowd was out of control and chanting Jackson's name. He bowed and exited the fighting station.

There were three more brackets that he needed to win before he could enter the finals and possibly face Mister Miller. He wasn't nervous anymore and was able to focus and fight. He watched as two other swordsmen fought it out. One was a Westerner, and the other was a Luccian. They both were using arming swords and were very skilled.

Ultimately the Westerner won the match, and it was time for Jackson to fight again. Jackson was using a longsword, which meant his sword was two-handed and was considerably longer than your average arming sword. An arming sword was a single-handed sword with a straight, double-edged blade of a similar design to the longsword, but the length was much shorter, around twenty inches while the longsword was standing at thirty-eight inches long. Jackson had a clear advantage in this fight as he had more reach than the Westerner, and he also had been trained in the art of dealing with arming swords effectively. The match was short-lived; he was the victor by a clear margin.

He rested for only a moment as the next swordsman entered the fighting station with an enormous greatsword. The man's sword was at least six feet long and was the most colossal sword Jackson had ever seen. It was taller than the man using the sword. Even if he parried a strike from a sword that large, it stood a chance of disarming him and leaving him without a sword. He looked around for a shield that he could use. There were a few, but they were all round shields and were too big for Jackson to wield. He finally saw a buckler shield of a larger size than most, and he went to grab it. "Hey lad, what do you think you're doing with my shield?" A large man standing next to the buckler asked.

"May I use it, I will repay you for the use of the shield Mister."

"Fine, but ya break it, ya fuckin buy it." The man said as he sat back down.

The shield had a steel bar that was a center grip and went through the protection and was also part of the steel plate on the other side. There was a coat of arms painted on the face of the shield with a red heart on the center steel plate.

Jackson went to his starting position and watched as the man rested his great sword on his shoulder. The man was an Asmerian knight by the name of Sir Michael Wentworth and was a grandson of the former nobleman Thomas Wentworth who was a Knight and lord during the Tyrant King's rule.

Jackson readied himself to take some brutal blows from the greatsword. Greatswords relied on them, maintaining momentum and range. If he got too close then he would be repeatedly struck by flourishes and fast hard strikes. The round started, and Jackson took control of the center of the fighting station. Jackson was only wearing a cloak over his armor and had no helmet on his torso. It was very dangerous for him, and he knew it. Jackson ducked under the first strike, and as Michael went for another, he braced himself and blocked the blow with his buckler.

The strike hurt Jackson and made him cry out in pain as his hand went numb from the force of the great sword meeting his buckler. Jackson stepped into Micheal's stance and hooked his leg around Michael's. The man fell on top of Jackson, but Jackson quickly got out from underneath him.

He won the round by resting the edge with a murder grip on Micheal's throat. "Nice seeing you again Jackson, have you been well?" Sir Wentworth asked as he laid to on the ground. "You know, I've missed our little bouts."

"It's nice to see you again, Sir Wentworth," Jackson replied sarcastically.

"Tell me, is your uncle well?"

"He is, he's still commanding the Order of Asmeria and is doing his best to uphold the republic."

"Just as I remembered him, well then. Shall we go again?"

"I would hope so unless you wish to surrender like you always do, Sir Wentworth."

Jackson and Wentworth got back to their starting positions and readied themselves. Jackson and Wentworth had fought before in the Asmerian Capital. Jackson was the victor of most of the duels, but Wentworth was also very skilled and capable. The round started and in a blur, as the two clashed.

Wentworth took a massive horizontal swing at Jackson, and Jackson ducked under the strike. He won the round by placing the tip of his blade at the bottom of Wentworth's breastplate. Right next to the seam in the armor.

Jackson stood to his feet and turned back to his starting position. Wentworth took up a close guard stance and held out his great sword at Jackson. "You know what Sir Wentworth," Jackson said.

"What you little shit?"

"I think you're overcompensating for something."

"You little shit, you should be a Jester in the king's court, not a knight."

"Says the man who can't beat me, a mere child." Jackson said loud enough for the entire audience to hear clearly. They all laughed and started booing Wentworth.

"Oh, I'll take your head on this round."

"We shall see Sir Wentworth," Jackson said with a chuckle, making a grand display for all to see.

The two started their final duel, and Jackson rushed forwards, trying to gain control of the center of the fighting station. Wentworth, however, had the same plan and reached the center before Jackson did. Jackson backed off as Wentworth swung his greatsword down and then kept it in motion with flourishes and spins. Never stopping the momentum of the heavy blade. He overswung his greatsword, and the blade went far to Jackson's right. Jackson saw his chance and dealt the match-winning blow, stopping only for a second as he lunged in with a jab that would've cut through Wentworths back. The referee called the match, Wentworth argued as he didn't even notice Jackson's strike. Jackson was exhausted from the weight of his armor and sword. Sweat was covering his eyes, and he collapsed onto the ground.

"The winner of the match is Mister Scottkey." The referee announced again after explaining to Wentworth how the young swordsman won the bout.

Jackson just laid there in the dirt of the fighting station. He was too tired to get up and exit the fighting station. His legs and arms were on fire from his quick movements throughout the day, and he was hungry.

"What's wrong, lad, ya got nothing else to give?" Wentworth asked as he stood over him.

"You're very demanding, Sir Wentworth." Jackson panted as he sat up straight.

"Oh, your uncle is far worse than I."

"No one could argue that Sir Wentworth, but I rather like my uncle's way of mentoring others and myself. I wouldn't have had it any other way looking back on it now."

"Kid, once you get some more meat on your bones. I pity any man who crosses you. You Scottkey's are all insane." Wentworth spat down on the ground next to him but he paid it no attention as the referee escorted Wentworth out of the fighting station. The referee came back and offered his hand to help Jackson up. Jackson took his hand and forced himself to his feet. Jackson closed the gate behind him. Once he turned around, Audrey Barker, the girl he had met earlier in the day, was standing right behind him.

"That was an awesome fight; I never thought such a young boy could do so well with a sword." She said enthusiastically.

"Thank you, I've been working very hard on perfecting my skills with the longsword for a few years now," Jackson said as he sat down.

"I think that is very admirable."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm glad you see it that way. I personally just do it for fun."

"Oh, what else do you do for fun?"

"I like going hunting with my father, and studying with my sister is also a lot of fun."

He finished resting, and the man he was supposed to fight next had quit the swordsmanship competition. All he had to do now was win one more round, and he'd win the grand prize and the Peiron longsword from Mister Miller.

He and Audrey sat and talked for a while longer until the referee grabbed Jackson by the shoulder. "Mister Scottkey, the final duel will be fought on the center stage. Your opponent is just as good or better than you. His name is-"

"Mister Miller, correct?" He cut the referee off.

"Yes, I'll tell you what, that black blade hat he is using put most of his opponents in fear like no other."

"Trust me; it wasn't the blade…" Jackson paused as he stood to his feet. "The man is what makes one freeze in their tracks." He said as he grabbed his equipment. He left the buckler that he had borrowed, and the owner came and picked it up without saying a word. Jackson faced the stage and started for it. Audrey followed him so she could watch from the stage. The referee just stood there and watched as the young boy made his way to the stage.