Duel

The atmosphere in the banquet hall was heavy with tension, and I could feel it pressing down on me from every side. Xyra Eldarion the Xyra was standing right in front of me, still as intimidating and breathtaking as she had been in the game.

Except now, she wasn't some distant character on a screen. She was real. And she was staring right at me with those ice-blue eyes that sent a chill through my entire body. 

But she looked different from what I remembered. I mean, she was still Xyra, but she seemed… younger? I could swear she was about my age ten or so. In my mind, she had always been this powerful, older figure, someone to look up to, to be terrified of.

But seeing her now, her cute round face and delicate features softened her aura just a bit. Just a bit. She was still regal, still commanding, but there was something undeniably cute about her.

And that's when I made my mistake. My brain, in all its brilliance, decided that now was the perfect time to zone out. Instead of focusing on the very real threat standing in front of me, my mind wandered to how adorable she looked.

Her platinum hair fell softly around her face, and she had the tiniest hint of a frown on her lips, which only made her more endearing. I couldn't help it I just kept staring, lost in my own thoughts.

Suddenly, something hit me square in the chest, snapping me out of my daze. I blinked, looking down to see a glove lying on the floor by my feet. My heart sank. What… what just happened?

"I want to have a duel against you," Xyra said, her voice firm and unwavering. 

Wait, what? A duel? Did I miss something? I reached down instinctively, picking up the glove and holding it in my hand.

My fingers traced the fine fabric because, of course, Xyra's gloves would be made of the softest material, probably something outrageously expensive. 

But then, I realized what I had just done.

I looked up, wide-eyed, as Xyra's expression darkened. Oh no. Picking up the glove… that meant… 

"So you accept," Xyra said, her voice low but filled with simmering anger. "Let's get outside."

Oh no, no, no. This was bad. This was really bad. I didn't want to accept! I wasn't thinking! I was just too excited that the glove belonged to her!

I wasn't ready to fight her. Duel her? Was she serious? She had probably trained with the finest swordsmen in the kingdom! I, on the other hand, barely knew how to throw a punch without hurting myself. 

"Wait, I didn't—" I tried to explain, but it was too late. Xyra had already turned on her heel, striding confidently toward the exit. 

Oh god.

My stomach churned as I followed her, my feet dragging behind me. This couldn't be happening. I wasn't ready for this. I wasn't ready to fight the person I admired most.

My mind whirled, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation without embarrassing myself or worse, getting seriously hurt.

As we walked outside, the air was crisp, the evening sun casting a golden glow over the courtyard. The sound of my family's hurried footsteps behind me sent a wave of dread through my chest. They had followed us, of course.

I could hear the worried murmurs between my parents as they exchanged nervous glances. My mother was the first to speak.

"Ren, are you sure about this?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"I didn't really have a choice," I mumbled under my breath, still holding the glove in my hand as if it was a lifeline. I wasn't sure how to explain to them that I didn't want this duel I just wanted to touch Xyra's glove. It wasn't supposed to turn into this!

But now it was too late. Xyra was already standing at the far end of the courtyard, her posture perfect, her hands at her sides as if she had done this a thousand times before. She looked completely calm, like this was just another day for her.

Meanwhile, my heart was pounding so hard I was sure everyone could hear it.

"I don't think this is a good idea…" my father muttered from behind me, but he knew, just as I did, that backing out now would be a huge mistake. Especially in front of someone like Xyra.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward. Maybe I could talk my way out of this. Maybe I could—

"Come on, then," Xyra said, her voice cutting through the air like a blade. Her blue eyes locked onto mine, filled with expectation. "Don't keep me waiting."

I swallowed hard. There was no escape now.

I stepped into position, my hands trembling at my sides. Xyra stood across from me, her expression unreadable but her stance ready for action.

She had already removed her second glove, tossing it aside like she didn't even need it. Of course, she didn't. She was probably ready to tear me apart with just her bare hands. 

The onlookers fell silent, their eyes bouncing between me and the princess. It felt like the weight of the entire kingdom was resting on my shoulders.

The courtyard suddenly seemed smaller, the sky closer, and every sound around me faded into the background. All I could hear was the pounding of my heart, the shallow breaths escaping my lungs. 

And then, before I could even process what was happening, Xyra moved.

She was fast really fast. My eyes could barely track her as she lunged forward, her body a blur of movement. Years of training, of being conditioned for battle, showed in the way she moved. It was fluid, like a dance, every step precise and purposeful.

I barely had time to react. My instincts kicked in, and I stumbled back, dodging just in time as her fist flew past my face. It was pure luck that I managed to avoid it, and I could feel the wind of her strike whip past my cheek.

She didn't stop. She was relentless. I could see her eyes, sharp and calculating, as she pressed forward, launching another series of attacks.

Her movements were so smooth, so natural, like she had done this a thousand times before and she probably had. Her fists and legs moved in perfect harmony, and I found myself on the defensive, barely able to keep up.

I wasn't trained for this. My body still felt sluggish from all the weight I'd gained, and though I had started losing some, I wasn't anywhere near fast enough to match her.

But even through the flurry of her strikes, I could see her movements coming, almost like watching a pattern unfold. 

That didn't mean I could do anything about it, though. My reactions were too slow, and every time I tried to dodge, I barely escaped. My mind screamed at my body to move faster, but it was like trying to swim through molasses.

Xyra's eyes narrowed as she grew more aggressive, her frustration evident. "Is this all you've got?" she hissed, her voice filled with annoyance. "I expected more."

I dodged another punch, this time just a fraction too late, and felt her knuckles graze my arm. The force of it sent a jolt of pain through me, but I managed to stay on my feet. Barely.

She came at me again, faster this time. My heart pounded in my ears as I tried to anticipate her next move.

My body screamed in protest, muscles burning from the strain, but I pushed through it. I had to. I couldn't back down now.

And then, just as I was about to dodge another attack, my foot slipped on the grass, and I fell backward.

Except it wasn't me who hit the ground.

Xyra, in her haste, had lunged too far. Her momentum carried her forward, and I watched in disbelief as she missed me entirely, losing her balance and tumbling to the ground in a heap of silver hair and expensive fabric.

The courtyard fell silent. Everyone stared in shock.

Xyra Eldarion, the villainous princess, had fallen.