El Clasico - For the Queen [part 1]

Both of them stood face to face, swords in hands. Their eyes on each other, wary of the smallest hint of fighting move that would soon follow. One was dressed in full war-armor of red and black, one was dressed in a half-armor of blue and white. One sword was bloodied, battered, old and burnt. One sword was enveloped in pure scorching magical flames.

Zest's caramel-colored hair was all but wet with sweat. His face dirty and bruised. But his bright blue eyes stared through unblinking, shining against the red light. His determination was clear in that gaze of his. The young knight of Crypthin stood ready.

Ace whispered a spell, unheard by his foe. A magical armet-style helmet formed around his diamond-blond hair, black in contrast to his sickly pale face, leaving only an eye slit with a pair of golden eyes staring coldly in the center of his red, drunken-like scleras. Ace of Hearts stood ready to fight.

The Sword Master raised and flicked his flaming sword, and all could hear a faint screeching noise. As if the air itself was in pain under the torment of the sharp blade. Zest, on the other side, swallowed silently. The young man thought to himself that he only need to block all of Ace's attacks, and he should be fine. Logically, he's under a severe disadvantage, but considering how there was simply no one else beside him, the courage he had will be his weapon. For the Queen, he reminded himself. He's doing this for the Queen.

Ace slowly took a step forward. He dared not to underestimate anyone he fought before, be they swordsmen or mages. But this person in front of him, seemingly looked as if he's neither of those. He had a sword with him, but the fighting posture he had wasn't of any style, not even in Crypthin's typical stoic pose. The way he held his sword was awkward, as if doubtful to choose where to put it up front.

However, the two know this silence had to end.

Zest firstly focused only on Ace's sword, the bright, flaming Arondight. He had heard it in the past, the sword of the king's exiled brother, Lancelot. If the tales and legends were true, the sword knew not of rust, and it said that it was as sharp as wind. The young man frowned, he never knew Arondight was also a flaming sword, perhaps this was the Witch's magical work.

He took his eyes off the burning blade and stared on Ace's feet instead. His movements, Zest had to predict his foe's movements. Block and hit, he could hear Sir Burns' voice teaching him again years ago. If you know you're weaker, you had to block first before you can hit, Zest. Do not be hasty. Predict where they will go. Focus.

It was futile. When Ace of Hearts decided to move, his feet went and gone from view. He was flying.

Zest blocked. He knew he was just simply raising his sword, but he did nonetheless, and his life was saved. Their swords clashed with a sonic blow, and Zest could feel the searing fire of his foe's blade. Alas, he also lost his footings. Zest was pushed back in the air a few feet away, grazing the soil as he fell. Too strong, Ace's hit was too strong for him.

Ace didn't even take another breath before he side-stepped two times and dashed forward again, hoping to confuse his foe, who he admitted, was only kneeling over there. He was quick, he knew he was. His Queen the Witch herself had acknowledged it. Yet Ace didn't want to underestimate this young man Zest.

When he reached him, Ace felt as if Arondight was as light as a feather in his hands. The blade itself is fire, he heard Sir Burns again. Ace knew exactly what to do.

When he saw Ace suddenly was standing in front of him again, Zest wondered if he was actually a human at all with that speed of his.

The young Crypthin knight held his heart still and raised his sword again to block an attack. Their steels clanged once more, and sparks flew away. But it was quicker this time, as Ace knowingly retreated his flaming sword, spinning it around down to his rear, before coming up with a sudden upward slash forward, all in a single heartbeat.

Zest's half-armor was set aflame, as his foe's sword destroyed it mercilessly. Blood was drawn, hissing and steaming in the heat. The clothes he wore beneath the steel was torn violently, and Zest would have screamed if he wasn't too shocked by pain.

Ace, meanwhile, tsked. Did he withdraw himself too far for that upward slash? Was he being too careful? He saw Zest took his hit, but his foe did not lose his will to fight, it would seem. The young man straightened his face again and glared at Ace. He gritted his teeth and stood, edging a step closer.

Ace heard his right armored boot was stepped on by his foe, with a strength he thought Zest wouldn't possibly have after being slashed like that. He nodded under his helmet. Fine then, Ace thought. He did not need to move away again either.

Zest saw Ace threw his burning sword to his other side, catching it nimbly with his left hand. But before the Sword Master was able to do anything, Zest went and elbowed him hard on the helmet's side.

The armet helmet was magically made, so it made no sounds. Still, Ace's eye slit view spun around with the impact. He had not expected this, nor the next thing Zest did. Ace's right hand was free of his sword, but his foe took it as an advantage instead. Zest grabbed his arm, jerking it down to the ground. In the same moment, he kicked Ace's legs to the opposite direction, tackling him down.

Ace of Hearts saw the ground met his face as he fell.

Zest didn't actually think it would work, but now that it did, he simply took up his sword and swung downward awkwardly. Ace, however, had rolled away. Too slow, Zest was too slow. Either that or his foe simply moved too fast, even when under an unfavorable state. He took notice at Arondight again, as the sword was readied by Ace for a spinning slash as he would no doubt do while getting up. It was as if Zest knew what he would do.

After rolling, Ace quickly corrected his crouching stance, turning around low in the ground. The air screeched as the flames of his sword flared. He would catch Zest on his neck this time. Just like he did Sir Mo.

The burning blade slashed at nothing.

He knew he was behind him. Ace leaped forward and turned at the same time, ready as he ever was.

Zest missed again, but that was not his only problem. He questioned his eyesight as he thought he just saw something that was not supposed to be there, then when he was about to attack only moments before. Like a fading figure, white as smoke, blocking his view briefly. He blinked. It must have been the pain messing with his mind.

He needed to concentrate. Zest looked straight into Ace's eyes this time, as they seemed to glow even more golden through his helmet's eye slit.

Waiting was a mistake. He ran forward. Zest saw Ace dashed to the right, so he himself leaned to the left and turned. He had his enemy standing face to face with him again. The two went to attack at the same time. Not a moment left after their swords touched, Ace spun his sword, targeting his foe's right flank. The flaming blade only bit on the rusted steel again, but they held it this time.

Zest pushed forward. Their swords still clinging to each other. Ace tried to hold his position still, but that was what Zest had wanted. The Crypthin knight pushed Arondight even closer to Ace's helmet. To his face. He meant to blind me with my own sword, Ace thought. As he guessed, when Ace finally couldn't see anything besides his sword's fire, he felt the pressure went away.

Ace ducked at the perfect time. Zest's attack missed for the third time now.

Ace threw his sword sideways again, catching it on his left hand. It was apparent now to Zest that he had no dominant hand in his sword-fighting style. Ace held Arondight in the left just as skillful and just as quick as he did in the right.

The left-handed lunge would have killed Zest, had he not jumped back. Retreating a few steps to take a breath. He saw Ace threw his sword back to his right hand. Evidently, he was the calmer one between the two. No matter, Zest convinced himself. His foe's figure blocked the light from the Redblack Gate as he rose back to stand straight. His black armor darkened.

Zest suddenly gasped. There. There he saw it again, behind him. A womanly figure, ghostly and white, like a fading haze, like an aura. Somehow the sight made him uneasy. She seemed to be taller than Ace or was it because she was floating instead of standing. Zest never know. When he blinked again, she was gone.

And Ace was already right in front of him.

Zest didn't see his sword. Ace moved so quickly, he only saw the orange flame light flickering around. The young man managed to block. He didn't know how he did that. Luck, most likely. Or mercy, he thought.

Zest raised his sword again and blocked a second time. He had to take a step back for that. Sparks were flying everywhere. Zest saw Ace retracted Arondight for just half a heartbeat, before spinning the sword overhead. The flames made a circling symbol in the air. The third attack. Hardest one Zest had ever taken. He felt his own sword flew off from his hands.

Disarmed. He was disarmed. By the God.

"No," Zest said in despair.

The fourth slash went home. And he bled.

A fool, Zest thought, as he cried in pain. A fool he was. He thought he was a knight. He thought he was a fighter. He thought he was a help to his Queen. He thought he was someone at all.