73.

Elai's pov

I feel my excitement increase when we come to a full stop, the area surrounded by nothing but trees, grass and uncountable flowers. It is quite cute at first; I can already imagine us laying in the flowers together, hand in hand, eyes staring at the slowly changing moon.
That thought stays in my head until I sees a weapon flying towards me. Arlon had thrown it without warning, it’s holster still warm in my now struggling hand.
“You want to fight?”
“Not fight. Train. I thought it might help to train somewhere outside of the arena, especially because you’re already a champion in staying at home.” It is a reference to the life I used to live back in Lyle, when I wasn’t allowed to go outside. It is a negative memory praised in a positive way. The remark genuinely makes me laugh. It is nice.
“And you wanted to call this a date, king Arlon?” it feels good to call him that, for some unidentified reason.
“I said I wouldn’t call it that!” He is cute when he’s denying something, especially when a smile grows onto his face. I pull the holster off of the sword, my eyes lighting up at the mere sight of the weapon.
“Holy-“ It is almost shocking; the sword is subtly decorated with the colors of Lyle. I wouldn’t have noticed if I had not worn the colors for years.
“This is-“
“Do you like it?” Arlon nods his head towards it as he takes out his own sword. I had never seen his own before. It holds the colors of Turi, and it is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. The blade seems to be black at first, but when Arlon moves it up a little, and the light shines on the perfectly crafted steel, I can see the dark shade of purple.
“Elai?” The king snaps me out of my admiration for his weapon, eyes shifting back to my own. The blade is white; the base decorated in the colors of Lyle. I wish I could stare at it forever.
“This is my own sword?”
“It is. I wanted to give you this as a.. gift! Thought it would be nice to have your own before we start actively working on your swordplay.” He’s taking a few steps closer to me; I can see his feet appear under the sword. There’s a big smile when I look up at him.
I love it.
“It’s- it’s amazing, Arlon! I can’t believe you- this is- but- the colors-“ I wish I could only show my gratitude, but the curiosity towards his choice had grown too strong.
“Why the Lylenian colors? Doesn’t that just rat me out?”
“As weird as the words may taste in my mouth.. those colors really fit you. When I saw you in your royal clothes I just- I was speechless. You looked so beautiful that I- I just- I had to use these colors.” Arlon places his fingers against the cold, white blade, a small smile crossing over his face. His cheeks have turned red, and I am pretty sure that mine have too.
“I want you to know that I admire you entirely. Blood and all. So I wanted to honor these colors because.. they represent a piece of you.” I kiss him before he can say anything else. My hand tightens its grip around the sword as I kiss him. It is soft and short, but enough to tell him how thankful I am. Fuck. Am I going to cry? Did his words do that to me?
“I don’t know what to say..” I slowly sink down back onto the heels of my feet, eyes still looking up at him. “Your eyes say enough.”
There is going to be a day where I will dare to say the words I now still fear. If I hadn’t, I would’ve blurted them out right here, right now. I swallow them away this time, feet taking a few steps back to be able to spread my arms and point my sword at him.
“Gonna show me what you can do with that?” I nod at his sword, Arlon letting out a simple chuckle. “Just because you were able to fight me last time, doesn’t mean you can today. I was going easy on you.” I wish I could snap back at him, but I am very aware that he is right. The first time we did this, something just.. felt right. I could tune in on him. It was easy.
Something like that doesn’t happen twice, does it?
I dig my feet further into the mud, grass hiding most of my boots. It is the most basic, yet only right thing I know to do. “Like this right?” I look at him, stress slowly leaving my body. I wasn’t even aware of how tense I have been this whole day. Chay was the first one to stir shit up, and the visit with my aunt was nerve wrecking, too. Being around Arlon.. makes me forget those things. They simply disappear when I look into his eyes. “Correct.” Arlon had positioned himself behind me without my notice. I suck in a breath when I feel his hands on my shoulders. “Relax.. don’t allow your opponent to know the sword is heavy..” I am too embarrassed to tell him I tensed up because of him. The simplest touches do that to me. I hear his soft chuckle; maybe he knew that already.
“Basic footwork is very important in combat. It allows you to move in and out of range or evade attacks.. here, move with me..” Arlon steps forward, his foot forcing mine to move along with him. It isn’t too difficult to keep up with him, sword tightly held in my two hands. I don’t move it around yet; I am pretty sure I’m not supposed to. The sound of the birds and the moving grass is relaxing as we go through the steps until I memorize them myself. I don’t even notice that Arlon had left my side until I see him leaning his back against one of the tall trees, his arms crossed and a smile plastered on his face. I want to stop moving the moment I see it; it flusters me. But my feet keep going, keep going, keep going. I like it when he looks at me like that. I like to impress him. It thrills me every time.
“I had no doubt that you’d have it under control in no time.”
“It’s not that hard.” Arlon, like Connie, seems to always be surprised that I pick things up like it’s nothing. I have seen the confused look on both their faces, and Connie had even pointed it out to me. How bad were the people they have helped?
“I tend to be quick when I really want something.” I dismiss the odd feeling in my stomach. I don’t want them to make me question myself. I am only a simple human.
“We’ve got that in common, then.” I seem to be zoned out every time Arlon approaches me, my sword suddenly so close to his stomach that it makes me gasp.
“Don’t do that without a warning!”
“You are too focused on what you’re doing, sunshine. Your opponent is not at the end of your sword.” Oh. Was I looking at it that much?
“Or behind you, or both. You need to focus on your surroundings more.” Arlon press his palms against my sword and pushes it upwards. “The angles of your attacks should be unpredictable and strong. Try doing half-swings.” Arlon walks backwards until his back is once again pressed against the tree. I take a deep breath, eyes focused on the king’s own. Half-swings. Should be easy enough.
“Retract your arm to its original position every time you do it, or you’ll give your attacker the opportunity to cut it.” Arlon stops me after only two half-swings. Ah. Okay.
I do it again. “Like this?”
“Perfect. Keep doing that.” I don’t want to shift my eyes towards Arlon, don’t want to watch what he’s doing. I can see him grab his own sword again, though, my muscles slowly starting to burn. The sight of him with his sword makes my heart skip a beat. I can only imagine what he looks like on the battle field, and am yet to find out if he is as terrifying as people make him out to be.
“Block from the left.”
I simply follow his words, not knowing if what I’m doing is correct. When I look up at our swords, I can see him grinning. “Right.” He gives me small warnings before attacking me, again and again and again. Okay, so maybe it is a little weird how I seem to know exactly what to do.
“I’d almost believe you trained back in Lyle.”
“I have no idea what I’m doing, Arlon.”
“Yet you keep up like a fucking champion.”
Arlon‘s attacks grow faster, stronger, and yet I block and block and block. I feel myself getting ashamed; I do know how to pick things up way too quickly. But I have never held a sword like this back home. Ever. I do not know what it is.
“You’re simply no match for me.” I am out of breath, though.
Arlon stops when he sees the heat cross over my face, a small frown on his own.
“Don’t just rush in blindly and swing until you land a hit. Your confidence is what keeps you from showing your true potential.”
“Well I’m sorry for feeling good about myself, mister know it all.” I tease him, but the frown on his face doesn’t leave. “S-Sorry I didn’t mean-“
“Would you want to join the war?”
My arms drop as soon as I hear the question, sword now digging into the mud.
“What?”
Arlon huffs. “You need to train your arms and attacks but- you’re almost a natural. Would you want to join the war?” He repeats the question at last, eyes looking into mine with nothing but seriousness.
Oh fuck. He means it.
Do I want to? Do I want to fight Lyle? Do I even have that need after killing my father? My hate has mostly been towards him, so I wouldn’t have to- right?
Why does that feel good in my stomach?
“I don’t want to shove anything into your hands but-“
“Perhaps I would.” I stop him from talking as I direct a small nod towards him. The words are like another knife to my father’s heart, and it brings a fucking smile onto my face.
Arlon attacks me without warning, this time, his fire brightly surrounding his sword. The heat comes so close to my face I physically flinch, my eyes looking directly into his.
“You ready for the date?” He pulls his weapon back without second thought.
It makes me frown. “Huh? We’ve been-“
“I have a small attention span. Follow me.” Arlon does some sort of trick with his sword before it lands back into its holster, the end tapping against his thigh as he walks away. They always say I seem to be impossible, but that description much rather fits Arlon. I try to do the same with my sword, the weapon flying around as I bite on my tongue.
No. No, that is definitely not what he did.
“Hey- teach me the trick you just did!” Arlon has disappeared from my sight completely as I shove the sword back into its holster with every struggle I could come up with. See? I am not as smooth as him. “Arlon!” I follow the only path that has been created, the gravel making soft noises as I run after the king. Oh come on, really? How mysterious does he want to be? There is a limit to my patience, does he even realize that?