Flash Fiction Friday: Before the Fall

Today's story ventures farther back into the past of the Yekara Universe farther than we have ever gone before. "Before the Fall" is set roughly 30 years before the events of Right of Succession.

Those who have read the novel will notice a few familiar names; however, the story makes sense on its own and does not contain spoilers for the novel.

I did adjust the wording of the last sentence in this dialogue prompt just a bit to fit more with the setting, but the meaning and tone remains the same.

Before the Fall
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“I thought you were my friend.” Zalier huffed, dropping his guard and stance to pout at his opponent.

“I am,” Ralic agreed. He held position but left his practice sword raised. “But it is my duty as a friend to tell you that, at this, you are lacking.”

He lunged, raising the sword to make a downward stroke at Zalier’s head. Zalier’s eyes went wide, and he scrambled back, flailing pitifully with his own sword in an attempt to block. It failed, and Ralic’s dull, wooden blade thumped against the other boy’s head.

The others in their group laughed from where they watched from the arbor benches. Leander trotted forward and clapped Zalier on the shoulder, halting him before he would have tripped over one of the hedges.

“Haven’t you learned never to let your guard down in front of this one?” Leander teased. He wrapped an arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders and pulled him in, pretending to mutter a secret to him while speaking loudly enough for all those present to hear. “Virchow’s sly as an olec and twice as fast.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zalier grumbled as he pushed Leander away. “More like a no good cheat.”

“No such thing as cheating in a fight,” Ralic said with a roll of his eyes. “Whatever keeps you from getting dead is fair game. The idea a fight can be clean is one thing that’s holding you back.”

Zalier, with a generous amount of prodding from Leander, squared up for another round with Ralic. Leander stayed just long enough to start another match for the two before returning to their friends in the arbor.

This time, Zalier charged, swinging low toward Ralic’s legs. Instead of pulling back, the young prince moved forward as he blocked the move, striking Zalier in the chest with a shoulder in the same move. Before Zalier could shift to strike again, Ralic stopped the pumel of his sword a centimeter from his temple.

They reset and started again. Zalier attacked, this time striking high. Ralic ducked under the swing and landed a blow against Zalier’s back. Reset. He hung back and goaded Ralic into attacking only to fall for a feint that ended with a tap of the prince’s sword against his knee. Reset. Try another tactic and fail. Reset again.

By the time the girls began to complain of being bored, Zalier was panting and beyond humiliated.

Ralic nodded his agreement to the girls’ requests to tour the remainder of the gardens and motioned for Zalier to toss him the other training sword. Fighting back the urge to chuck the thing as hard as he could at his irritating friend, Zalier did as he was bid. Friend or no, angering the heir apparent was a poor idea indeed, and if he did nothing else this afternoon, Ralic had proven how much better he was in a fight. No, he’d prefer to keep what pride he had remaining, thank you.

“You should fire your swordmaster,” Ralic murmured as he and Zalier turned toward the arbor.

“Why?” Zalier asked, falling into step beside the prince.

“They’ve boxed in your thinking,” Ralic explained. “That’s what is hampering your skills. You need a trainer who can think on their feet.”

“But Emsas is the best swordmaster in the north.”

They joined Valera and Rosnine at the edge of the arbor. The girls left the shaded arch provided by the cascades of flowering vines. Rosnine accepted Zalier’s offer of his arm, but Valera held to no such formalities with Ralic, instead grasping his hand and threading her fingers through his.

“Then you’d be better off focusing on a different means of defending yourself,” Ralic said as they followed the rest of their group through the meandering labyrinth of manicured hedges. “Or,” Ralic glanced back over his shoulder and gave Zalier a teasing smirk, “Valera might teach you if you ask nicely.”

The girl in question huffed and bumped her shoulder into her betrothed’s arm. “I have as many lessons and duties as you,” she said. “Why not offer up your own time?”

Ralic laughed. “Because you, my dear, have far more patience than I could ever hope to have.”