Chapter 44: The Prince
SLAP!
A white Mornan boy fell to the ground hard as his sword flew from his grip. His elbow pushed against the floor as his other hand held his cheek where the second hit had landed. He hesitantly glanced up at the Orange Mornan standing above him with a restrained look.
"Pick it up, boy. Solvanes do not drop their weapon until their final breath escapes their lungs," Alger Solvane said with a hard expression as he looked down at his son Jetarius with contempt. "Or have you already made preparations to die today?"
"No, father," Jet muttered as he slowly rose to his feet, walking over to pick up his weapon before leveling it at his father again. His body felt numb all over, but he knew that wouldn't be a viable excuse for the man before him.
Alger snorted as he took in Jet's trembling blade. "To be filled with this much fear after only a few hits. How disgraceful. Are you really sure you are of my blood, boy?"
Jet's eyes met the floor at his father's words, his left hand shooting forward to steady his right against his weapon.
"Hehehe."
Jet's expression darkened at the sudden chuckle. His jaw tightened as he glanced to the side of the courtyard where an orange Mornan girl his age sat on a reclined chair, watching his efforts with an amused look.
The corner of his mouth curved into a frown just before he received another slap to the face from the blunt side of his father's sword. "Focus on your opponent!" The Mornan king snarled as he circled him. "If you can be so easily distracted, then it's best you give up being a warrior entirely. I won't have you dying pitifully and tainting my reputation."
Jet wiped away the blood seeping from the cut on his face. "I understand, father!" He shouted as he lunged and swung his sword toward his father's neck. The King's skin was harder than the blade, so Jet wasn't afraid of hurting him at all. In fact, he was hoping he could even leave a scratch. Or maybe more than that, if he was lucky.
King Alger kept one arm behind his back as he blocked the swing with his sword. He pushed it away and swung his blade down on it, trying to knock it out of Jet's hand again. He squinted upon feeling resistance, realizing Jet already expected it this time. A snicker escaped his lips as he delivered a kick into Jet's gut and sent him sprawling to the floor. "Gah!"
"Hmph, just when I thought you were starting to show some promise," King Alger muttered with a sigh. "Your sister would have dodged my kick and targeted my eye with a hidden blade the moment she realized I was focused on her sword. She wasn't scared of trying to win at all costs. Unlike you."
"Take it easy on him, father," the Orange Mornan girl said suddenly as she stood up and walked over to them. "He's still recovering from the wounds from our last sparring session, so really I'm to blame for his sluggishness today. If possible, can you come by and test him again in a few weeks?"
Jet turned his head toward his sister from where he rested against the ground, his expression one of surprise and confusion.
Alger glanced at his daughter for a moment before grunting. "Don't make excuses for him, Holiness. This is simply the limit of his talent." He casually tossed his sword away as a silver Mornan appeared in its path in an instant to catch it and place it in its sheath.
"Once again, you've proven a disappointment," Alger said coldly as he turned back to Jet.
Jet kept his head down, holding back his pent-up emotions. He'd experienced enough at his father's hands to know there was nothing he could say or do to please him. He'd long given up on expecting anything different.
"You're supposed to be your sister's twin," Alger continued. "And yet, you couldn't be more opposite. Where she succeeds, you fail. And where she walks, you crawl."
"Should I blame myself for believing your mother's lineage wouldn't be a problem for our offspring? Was I really too overconfident when I thought my children would be glorious as long as I was the father, despite their color?" King Alger sighed. He glanced up at the blue star in the night sky that his entire kingdom orbited. Then he shook his head, turning toward the exit of the courtyard and walking away.
"The only noteworthy thing you've done in your life so far is being born before your sister," he growled over his shoulder. "I wouldn't have even spared you a glance if you came second."
Jet watched his father and his two knights leave before inhaling deeply. His grip on his sword tightened for a long moment. Eventually, his face twisted into a scowl as he angrily tossed his sword into the distance.
Then he glanced to his side, remembering his sister was still here. "And what are you waiting for exactly? A thank you? Or do you simply want to flaunt your superiority over me again?"
Holiness rolled her eyes and scoffed. "I would appreciate some gratitude, yes. But I see you're not in a very grateful mood."
"Don't flatter yourself!" he yelled. "Your fake sympathy doesn't move me." Jet turned away from her and headed back into the house both of them had been living in since the last assassination attempt on their lives. "Enjoy father's attention as much as you want. I don't care about competing with you for it anymore..."
***
"Why did such a useless memory appear at a time like this?" Jet mused to himself as he dodged another enraged attempt by the blinded puppy to engulf his head whole in one bite.
A tornado of attacks descended upon the creature again, leaving more cuts and slashes than Jet's initial attacks after successfully stabbing out the creature's single large eye.
Jet grinned. "It's such a blatant weak spot. Blame yourself for evolving so stupidly."
The grotesque monster lunged in his direction with monstrous speed the moment he spoke.
This time, Jet didn't dodge. He ran at the creature and stabbed his blades right into its chest the moment it leaped off the ground.
Kriii!!!
The creature screeched in pain as Jet stabbed it against the ground and twisted his blade furiously. He stared down at it with a smile on his face. "From up close... you don't seem all that frightening, after all."
The trainees watching the battle stared into the Arena with shocked expressions.
'Huh, well what do y'know? He's way better than I expected royalty to be,' Arbus thought before focusing on the dying form of the puppy. The way its body spasmed gave him an eerie feeling.
Ty laughed as he signaled for the staff to open the arena back up despite less than two minutes passing since he went down there. "As expected of a Mornan Prince."