The Enchanting Rapture (#1)

Chapter 13

Soren

Memory...

     "Is that all you got? You worthless shit!" That vicious tone roared against Soren's eardrums. Dressed in only shorts, the rest of his body was coated in earned sweat, glinting as the muscles shifted with each swipe of his sword.

     Soren fought against the warrior with years of built up ferocity, years of blood and tears, of aching, agonizing pain. 

     Today was the day Soren would either live as Zyhed's champion or die as his disgrace. 

     The two fought in a guarded off area. They were surrounded by an audience, even royalty. Zyhed sat in an extravagantly built chair next to his second wife, the Queen. His three siblings were positioned to the right of the couple. Each of their expressions revealed their distinctly diverse personalities. 

     Malani, naturally, was on the edge of her seat, eager for Soren to meet his end.

     Matteo, Malani's twin brother, was seething with anger. His crystal blue eye (the eye was singular due to the fact that the other was a shade of solid milky blue) was the only part of him that gave away his fear. Strangely, it consoled Soren that someone would mourn him if he died. 

     Tynan, second oldest and titled bastard, for once, did not show any emotion. Flatness obscured his features in a terrible way, as though he felt no need to express anything for Soren. 

     This was Soren's last test. 

      The male fighting Soren was more beast than man. At a lofty height, he was built with bulging power, yet he moved with the energy of a bird. His expertise in fighting was unlike any Soren had known, more so than those who trained him.

     If he failed to beat the beast, his dead body would be that of a disowned failure. 

     Their swords clashed violently, the sharp sounds sailing through the air in quick cuts. As the beast swung, Soren met with his sword. And so they went on, one never gaining the advantage. 

     "If I wanted to see two bitches fuck, I'd go to the brothel! Someone dies in the next five minutes or both will be executed!" The King burst out, clearly aggravated at the lack of early death. 

     The beast cut his eyes at the king in disbelief for only a blur of a second, but that was all he needed. Taking advantage, Soren thrust his sword forward in one speedy motion. Metal immediately met the flesh of the beast's upper arms, slicing effortlessly through the skin and muscle. The man grunted in surprise, but he expertly made a responsive attack before Soren could finish the job.

     He retreated when the other male's blade came at him in defense. Soren met each hit of the sword, and he acknowledged with triumph that the blood seeped profusely from the arm's wound, splattering against everywhere as the beast still fought on. He would tire soon enough after a certain amount of blood loss. 

     Soren would not and could not die without getting at least one tinsy taste of freedom. 

     Receiving new motivation, Soren struck out his foot, hitting the other's kneecap. The beast hunched low with a growl of outrage and attempted to slice at Soren's foot, but his action was blocked by Soren's own sword. Taking advantage of close proximity, he knocked the side of the beast's skull with his fist.