Quillion

THE CARRIAGE ROCKS UNDER ME. Its a short journey to the tournament fields, and Doregan insisted I ride in one to prevent any further problems. By this time tomorrow either I or Deyko will be king.  

I push the thought out of my mind.  

“A lot of people...came.” Lahle tries to make conversation, but its obvious her mind is racing. I place my pam onto hers. I know she’s scared. This may be the last time she sees me as a king. Father’s legacy was important to her too.  

“I know we were arguing and—” 

“Water under the bridge.” I say, smiling. “I understand that you trusted Deyko. He has done nothing to make you think otherwise.”  

Lahle nods, faking a smile. She still hurts under the tough facade she tries to pull. Out of respect, I don’t say anything.  

“Did Deyko speak to you about---”  

“He did, Lahle.” We had a discussion yesterday. He told me some real things, and I’m not sure if I believe it yet, but I want to trust him. Its difficult for me to believe someone would willingly put themselves on a stake and lose, but Deyko begged me to trust him. So I will.  

Lahle pulls me into a hug. “I believe in you, ok?”  

Slowly, I hug her back. She cries onto my shoulder, her lip trembling against my shoulder.  

The coachman turns around and gives us the news. “We’ve arrived at the tournament fields.”  

Lahle turns to look outside the glass windows. Outside, benches from high up to low have been set so that spectators can watch. There are booths perched high so that the Jiakka tribe elders, high ranking officials and monarchy may watch. The field below has been cleared, and the benches are already choked full with people. Up high on the special booths, I see Doregan watching me with caring eyes.  

The carriage stops by the entrance of the field. Lahle turns to me, eyes downcast. “Good luck.” She says. “I have to go.”  

Rays of light beam into the carriage when Lahle opens the door, closes it and steps down. Almost instantly a group of navy wearing guards flank her as she walks towards the stairs to the elder booths where Doregan is.  

I’m supposed to wait until the announcer finishes his speech. On the other end of the field, I spot Deyko’s carriage, but the glass is tinted so I cant see inside. I wonder if its the same for him.  

I grab my sword and close my eyes.  A wave of anxiousness hits me as the announcer continues addressing the crowd. Suddenly, the tight confines of the carriage begin to seem too small.  

Outside, unrest ripples through the crowd when I hear the announcer call my name. My body stiffens as the guards beside the door pull it open for me. Sunlight bursts through, scalding my eyes as I stand.  

When my feet touch the grass, the crowd erupts in applause. I try not to focus on everyone but instead on the feel of my blade in my arms. Deyko has to lose.  

“Prince Quillion Kalaghan, son of the late king!” the announcer screams into his speaking trumpet. I wave my hand at the crowd and keep a light expression. When the attention moves away from me I silently thank the man.  

He points to the other carriage. “On the other end of the field is Prince Deyko Kalaghan, nephew of the late king!”  

The crowd explodes once more. Looking up to the booths, I see Doregan and Lahle smiling down at me. Niera focuses on her son.  

Deyko swings his blade through the air and catches it before he sheathes it. The crowd goes wild at his little trick, and I cant help but wonder if he truly plans on losing this battle to me.  

On the sides of the bleachers, men dressed in bulland fur clothes beat their drums, creating a steady rhythm.  

“The winner of this battle,” the announcer booms, “Shall be crowned king!”  

The crowd cheers as Deyko and I both get into our positions, directly across the field from one another. I try to study his eyes. They’re remorseful.  

I grip my sheathed blade. 

The announcer begins the countdown, and the audience counts with him. Every number they shout etches another plane of fear into my heart. Beyond Deyko’s stone cold features, I can see nothing. 

“One!” the announcer screams. 

The world around me slows down as Deyko charges forward. Unsheathing my blade, I race towards him as well.  

Time speeds up again as our blades smack against each other with a deafening clang. I reel back from the attack, but Deyko still goes on, jumping as he twists, slamming his blade against mine twice. 

I am pushed back onto the ground when Deyko reels to stab me in my gut. Quickly, I roll out from under him and push him to the ground with the heel of my boot, stepping back and holding strong. What is he doing?  

Deyko gets up quickly, swinging his blade faster than I can anticipate. The cold metal slashes against my ribs and blood explodes onto the grassy field.  

“Deyko!” I scream at him, but its nearly drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. “What are you doing?”  

“I’m sorry, cousin.” He places his legs under mine, tripping me, but as I fall I tighten my legs round his which sends him to the dust with me. My breath is hard and painful as I rush to stand, striking Deyko clear across the neck. Blood drips down as he grits his teeth.  

I do a cartwheel away from my bleeding opponent, trying to adjust my own wounds. As I do so, I see the familiar glint of magic in Deyko’s eyes.  

His palms and sword are engulfed in flame as he attacks once more. I try not to get touched by him, but his searing flesh accidentally grazes against my arm. If I’m going to win, I have to use my tiding.  

“Deyko, stop this madness!” I cry as we both go on the offensive. Our swords continuously strike against each other, sending a constant sound of clashing metal barrelling through the field. There is no more cheering, no sound but Deyko and I grunting as we exchange blades in combat.  

This time, I arch my back towards the dirt when Deyko swings his sword. The blade whooshes through open air as I stand back up and slam his sword away from him with my own. The weapon goes flying across the field and lands at the very end with nothing more tha the sound of a thud on grass to show for it.  

“Deyko, you said you would lose!” I scream. “This isn’t losing!” 

“I did, cousin.” He says, his eyes glossing over. “That was until I discovered what losing meant.”  

I am caught off guard when his fist sparks with flame and he punches me clear across the face. I feel my jaw shift as a tooth comes loose. Blood splatters against my lips. It is then I realise what he means. It is a battle to the death.  

He doesn’t want to die.  

I turn to him and he smashes his fist against me again, sending my head back with a deafening crack. My body slams against the grass as he plans to strike once more. I reach for my sword, but I cant feel it.  

If I don’t do something, not only will I lose, but I will die.  

I push mother’s screams out of my head as I open the ether for the first time since the incident. Energy pours through my veins, racing through with unimaginable speed. Suddenly, I am filled with new energy.  

With magic now running through my veins, I kick Deyko in the crotch and push him away from me. I break for my sword, but a stream of fire rushes past my head, nicking my ear.  

I pick up my sword and channel my energy into tiding. Water forms on my palm as I curl it around my body at breakneck speed, forming a shield around me. Deyko’s fire explodes onto the shield of water, but it doesn’t break.  

Every second I use my ability feels like a betrayal.  

I push my shield forward and it speeds across the field, wrapping itself around 

Deyko and trapping him in his cocoon of fire. The flame from his own palm scalds him ad it bounces round the interior walls of the water sphere I’ve made. This allows me to take a moment to breathe.  

From inside the water sphere, Deyko’s palms burst with fire. They hit the walls of the sphere, and I see its foundations beginning to falter. Deyko screams as he tries to break free, and as a counter I try to make the sphere smaller to prevent him from flaming.  

“You can stop this, Deyko!” I yell. “None of us has to die!”  

I am pushed back as the water sphere combusts. Flame explodes across the field with the sound of Deyko’s deafening roars. Even I am pushed onto my back.  

A wave of water gushes out when I extend my palm. I keep the doorway within me open just a crack, letting energy flow in little by little. As much as it feels like my body is about to break, I keep on going.  

Deyko’s stream of flame pushes against my stream of water. The two forces fight for dominance, and slowly Deyko’s fire starts winning. His eyes are a nasty blood red as he stares down at me emotionlessly. He will burn himself out.  

A plan comes to me and I pick up my sword once more, keeping his flame at bay with my water. I aim directly for his stomach and fling the weapon.  

The sound of metal hitting flesh resounds around the field as Deyko’s flame slowly dies. The cloud of smoke around him slowly clears, and in the light of the sun I see what everyone else in the crowd sees.  

From the special booths high above I hear Niera scream in agony. Her guttural sounds of pain cut through my heart like a blade. Cringing, I clutch my bleeding side.  

Before me, my own sword is lodged in Deyko’s heart.  

My cousin stumbles forward, gurgling blood as he tries to summon fire. Not even a flicker of a flame appears. He probably doesn’t realise he’s already dead.  

His eyes close as his body falls to the ground face first, pushing the sword through him so hard it explodes through his backside. A body that was so full with life moments ago.  

I fall to my knees and bile nearly seeps out of my lips. Deyko is dead. I killed him. Don’t do that, Quillion. Don’t blame yourself.  

The announcer holds up my limp arms.  

“I hereby declare that this man is now King Quillion of Gaia!”  

Some of the crowd cheers, but most of them remain silent. Up in the booths, I see no lips move. Everyone is silent.  

Then, I notice everyone’s eyes up at the sky. I look up as well, following their gaze.  

A scream escapes my lips as the crowd erupts into chaos.  

“Protect the king!” A guard says, running across the field to pull me onto my feet. A metal ball of fire crashes into the ground and fire explodes around us. A crack runs through the field, parting and curving like spider webs.  

Up in the booths, I notice Lahle is no longer in her ornate seat.  

Another explosion hits the water tribe palace several miles away from here. The explosion is so massive we see plumes of dark, thick smoke rising into the clouds from here. Peasants and rich alike race past me and the guards flanking me, fleeing for their carriages and their lives.  

My eyes close as the ground rocks with another explosion.