Fatestones: Chapter 19

Chapter 19 Third Match

Arione stood both swords withdrawn, on the platform. In front of her was Perschithia. She looked back at Scar. He looked tense and a bit scared. Yanara and Talen were back at Terra’s house. They’re probably hoping and praying that I’ll win, just like Scar is, she thought. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She would not fail them. She knew she was the least likely to lose the match. She was a Southern, they thought all Southerns were weak. Arione went into her starting position. She would not fall to the ground; she would not lose.
Perschithia looked ahead at her nemesis. Her eyes full of and vengeance. “I’ll make you sorry you ever killed Peatin!” she cried out to Arione. She waited several minutes for a reply. She got none. She withdrew her mace and started to twirl it.
Arione watched as the thick, spiky ball sliced through the air clumsily. A few minutes passed and the audience clung to their seats in despair, waiting, just waiting for something to happen. Then Perschithia charged.
High in the stands, Ace watched over the fight. It was nothing but a game to him. True the Northern team was a threat, but not a very big one. He would have the simple pleasure of picking them off, one by one. Next to Ace stood Denant. The Southern Emperor could hear his general murmuring silently, “block her, block her Arione. Good now attack, no you fool don’t block!” Ace didn’t mind the silent cheering. He knew why Denant did it.
A teenage boy walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. “What?” Ace asked without turning.
“It’s that Northern elf sir, we found out where he came from.” The boy said.
“Really, where?”
“Tirsu, sir.”
“Really, how convenient. Dissmissed soldier.”
The boy saluted than ran off to watch the rest of the match.
“Denant, to interrupt, but do you mind telling that merceny…what was its name?” Ace asked, without passing a glance at Denant.
“He prefers to be called Hakut, sir. I don’t know why, but he does.” Denant said.
“Right, right, go tell Hakut to start the attack.”
“Where will the attack be, sir? Mercenary’s always have to be pointed where to go.” Denant said, still watching the battle.
“This one’s different, Denant. He’ll know where to go.”
“I don’t see why you won’t just send me,” said Denant sounding a bit offended.
“I need my general here with me, Denant. And if you question my authority again, I’ll send you back to where you came from. Now go tell Hakut, and do it quick!” Ace snapped.

Down on the platform the battle was furious. Perschithia was flailing her axe around. Fortunately it was easy to dodge her attacks.
Arione weaved her way around the weapon, waiting for a chance to attack. She found that moment seconds later. Perschthia grew tired of her attacks abd had to fall back to get more energy. This was a perfect time to attack. Arione sheathed her swords, and took out her two daggers. She took careful aim and fired. Both landed where she wanted. In Perschithia’s hands. She fell back, her hands pinned to the platform. Arione’s daggers hand gone through Perschithia’s hands, she could fight no more.

Arione had won.