Tyr versus Jarnvid

Tyr's competition put him against the other guild leaders. This was the highlight match of the tournament because it showcased how strong each guild's leader was. Tyr did not have trouble getting to the finals. Today his fight would be against Jarnvid, the leader of the Carnelian Kumas. Most of the tournaments ended with him fighting Jarnvid, so Tyr was not surprised. Jarnvid had been a continual thorn in his side and Tyr looked forward to beating him today.

Jarnvid was a few decades older than Tyr, but they had seen each other often at social events while Tyr grew up. Jarnvid belonged to another noble family in Marseille, but he used his family's connections to improve his guild. He did not take his guild seriously, and they barely turned a profit because of poor management. Managing a guild was just a side hobby that Jarnvid did for the fame and glory. He saw it as more of a club for noble families to join and make connections.

Today Jarnvid dressed in a full-bodied armor that had many jewels clustered into his chest piece. The jewels created his family emblem instead of his guild's. Jarnvid's long blonde hair was pulled up into a half ponytail. "Fenrir gives her regards," he gave a smug smile to Tyr. He relished the fact that he had stolen Tyr's woman.

Tyr looked at Jarnvid's ostentatious armor and gave a snort. "That's nice. I'm actually happy I listened to my mother for once and didn't marry her. I guess it all worked out, huh?" Tyr drew his lances. Jarnvid's jeer did not bother him anymore.

Jarnvid raised a lip and scowled, "It's all right. You don't have to hide your disappointment. You weren't good enough for Fenrir, anyway. It was only a matter of time until she begged me to take her." He drew his halberd. "She constantly tells me how I'm better than you," Jarnvid paused and emphasized, "in EVERY way."

Tyr rolled his eyes. He had enough of Jarnvid's poisonous words. Every time they fought it started with small vocalized jabs. If it had been a year ago, Tyr knew he would have been angry. Now that he met Macha, Jarnvid's efforts seemed childish and pathetic.

Tyr replied, "The world doesn't create everyone equally, that's true. We'll see who's better."

In his peripheral vision, Tyr saw Macha standing on the sidelines. She watched him with excitement in her eyes and cheered him on. This was something Tyr knew Fenrir would not do for Jarnvid. Fenrir hated watching the matches. She would usually walk around the stadium until it was time for her fight, or she would stay at home.

Tyr threw one of his lances high into the air and it hovered above the stadium. Lightning shot out of it, flying towards Jarnvid. Jarnvid used his gauntlet to knock the bolt to the side. He made a scowl. Jarnvid hated how full Tyr was of himself. The Valois twins pissed him off. He hated how they were from a richer noble family than him, and felt so pompous that tried to carve their own path in the world.

Jarnvid ran towards Tyr and slid across the ground on his knees. His long halberd swept towards Tyr's lower legs. He wanted to cut Tyr down a notch.

Aži flew up to the hovering lance and blew a great ball of fire. The fire spun around the lance's handle and coalesced at its tip. Since night had fallen, the light the fire created grew brighter with each second that passed. The ball lit up the stadium and cast shadows on the ground.

Tyr jumped into the air above the halberd's blade. He kicked off of Jarnvid's forehead to avoid crashing into him. While Tyr was suspended in the air, Jarnvid turned his body and swung his halberd up behind him. Tyr grabbed the handle just below the halberd's blade and countered by thrusting his lance between Jarnvid's armor, where the pieces were joined together. Blood splattered across the grass when Tyr pulled his lance out from Jarnvid's chest.

Jarnvid shook Tyr off his weapon and rolled into a standing position. He sliced the air with his halberd, creating strong gusts of wind that whipped towards Tyr. Tyr blocked the first, but the second hit him on his upper arm. A deep cut slashed through Tyr's rerebrace and blood flowed from the wound. Tyr swapped his lance to his other hand. He was not concerned about swapping hands because he was ambidextrous, but he frowned at the thought of how much it would cost to fix the armor.

Jarnvid twirled his halberd above his head and ran towards Tyr. The wind whipped around creating a small vortex above him.

Tyr looked up at Aži and decided he needed stall a bit longer. The ball of flame was not big enough to finish the match.

Jarnvid rushed in to press his attack, but Tyr knocked the halberd out of the way by hitting the blade's flat side into the air with his lance. He followed up the opening with a powerful kick to Jarnvid's throat. Jarnvid flew back, spit flying from his mouth. Tyr kicked off the ground to follow, his feet leaving craters in the grass. He landed on Jarnvid's body and used his lance to pin Jarnvid down by piercing it through Jarnvid's shoulder.

Jarnvid's eyes narrowed. "Got you," he coughed.

Around them, white symbols glowed and formed a circle. A great tornado of wind blew Tyr into the air and a thousand sharp cuts slashed at him. Tyr used his bracers to block as many as he could, but the blades came from every direction.

As Tyr fell towards the ground Aži released the fiery ball he formed. The ball crashed down onto Tyr's weapon, which was lodged into Jarnvid's shoulder. It exploded and a massive fiery pillar lit up the stadium.

The heat from the pillar caused everyone in the first few rows to close their eyes. The people in the top stands gasped with amazement. This attack surprised everyone because of its size and force. The height and width of the pillar rivaled the stadium itself.

When the light disappeared, Tyr stood bleeding above Jarnvid. His skin was stained red from all the blood that flowed from his many cuts. Knowing he was beaten, Jarnvid's lips moved, and he whispered, "Maybe I'll take Macha next."

Tyr planned to pull his lance out and leave since he won, but Jarnvid's comment about Macha filled him with anger. His rage blinded him and Tyr made a snarl. He jerked his lance out and kicked Jarnvid into the stands.

The crowd hollered. This was the Cold Hearted Captain they all loved. Tyr's reputation in the city for being cold and short-tempered caused some women to swoon and give him the title 'Cold Hearted Captain'. The final match of the tournament did not disappoint and everyone cheered.

****

Although the Obsidian Dragons won every match they competed in, they did not win the tournament. Carnelian Kumas won because they had enough high-ranking people to compete in every event. A few of the contestants that won for Carnelian Kumas were previously Obsidian Dragon members. Tyr wished they had stayed, but could not hold it against them. It was their choice to leave.

On the way back to the guild headquarters, Krystof pleaded for the group to have a celebration. Tyr rarely went along with Krystof's party ideas, but he was willing to go because Macha seemed enthusiastic about the idea. Krystof chose a bar he frequented and got them a table.

Macha looked around, impressed at the upscale bar. She had never been to a luxurious bar before and admired the chandeliers which were shaped like sirens that moved above them. Every once and a while, a cool mist would come out of a siren's mouth. The overall appearance was lavish and decadent. Macha felt the place seemed over the top, but it did have a nice design. She also noted how Krystof recognized everyone in the establishment.

"Everyone's gotta drink at least one shot for each match we won!" Krystof cheered. He poured the drinks freely because he knew Tyr would pay for tonight's entertainment. Krystof did not worry about money but enjoyed being treated by his friend. He saw today as payback for all the back to back missions Tyr forced him to go on recently. While Krystof poured the shots, he reflected on how today was a great day. Luna beat Liam, he won his match, and Tyr was paying for the drinks tonight.

Macha looked at her shot glass and took a small sip. She knew she could not handle five shots in rapid succession, so she figured she would take it slow and pace herself.

Krystof looked at Macha, who had not finished her glass yet. "Macha, come on. I wanna do the next round." Krystof bounced up and down in his seat pleading her with puppy dog eyes. He loved letting loose, and it was a rare day that the whole group got together like this.

Tyr, who sat beside Macha, reached over and finished her shot. He did not want Krystof to heckle her.

Krystof poured the rounds one after the other. With each round, Tyr would let Macha finish half of her glass, then reach over and finish the rest for her. This was more than he usually drank, but he did not mind since it helped Macha.

The food was delicious and a live band made the atmosphere merry. The band's music created an illusion of confetti constantly falling in the bar. A steady stream of alcohol made Tyr relax, and he smiled easily. He was glad he came because Macha would not have been able to drink as much as Krystof poured.

A pair of beautiful women approached the table and asked if Krystof and Tyr would dance with them. Tyr ignored them and Krystof began to decline their invitation. He knew Tyr would not go. When they were younger, he used to beg Tyr to be his wingman. Tyr hated going out, so he almost never agreed. Now, Krystof thought it would be impossible because Tyr had Macha.

Macha surprised Krystof when she said, "You two can go if you want. Have some fun." Everyone at the table, besides Tyr, looked at Macha as if she sprouted another head. Macha looked around the table, "What? We're here to enjoy ourselves. I don't mind." She took another sip of a sweet cocktail she had ordered earlier. Macha understood that Krystof and Tyr were attractive men. She did not want them to feel they missed out on a chance because of the group.

Krystof wanted to dance but refused the women with a heavy heart. He did not want Tyr to get into trouble when they got home. Krystof knew women could say something was fine in front of others, but it would be a different story behind closed doors.

Macha's reaction bothered Tyr because he wanted her to beg him to stay or at least look upset. Her lack of concern meant that she still did not see him romantically. Tyr contemplated how he could change the way Macha viewed him. Going from a friend to a lover seemed complicated, but Tyr perceived it as a worthwhile endeavor. Macha was unlike any woman he ever met. He loved her easy-going nature, beauty, and intelligence. Her constant curiosity made living with her interesting and he did not want to imagine life without her.

At the table behind them, Ivan Mikhailov sat and watched Macha. He was a rich merchant in charge of slavery in the city. Although he was not from a noble family, Ivan excelled at business management. This allowed him to increase his profits and rise to a high position in the few hundred years since Marseille's independence. Ivan had been admiring the small woman in front of him since he sat down at his table. Ivan initially avoided going up because he thought she was Tyr's woman, but she seemed unconcerned with Tyr dancing with the two strangers who approached the table.

Ivan stared expressionlessly at Macha and the image of her locked up in his torture room at home, crying in agony flashed into his mind. Her small form would be covered in blood and her eyes would be full of fear and helplessness he mused. Ivan felt the strong urge to make his dream a reality. He put on a charming smile and walked up to her table.