by S. Y. Lee
“Leo!” Sam yelled from behind him. “Hurry up and draw your sword!”
While Leo had been navigating the fence, his opponent was already standing in the middle of the arena waiting for him. He was clad in red from head to toe and the symbol of a black flame could be seen on the front of his shirt. His sword was drawn and pointed at Leo in a taunting gesture. The longer Leo stood next to the fence, the louder the jeers coming from the crowd became.
Leo drew his sword and slowly approached the man in red, who remained motionless like a statue. Unless his sword was as light as Sparrow, which seemed unlikely, his arm strength was far superior to Leo’s. As Leo got closer to his opponent, he noticed that even the pupils of his eyes were red. Leo wondered if he should strike first or wait for the man to take the initiative.
As in many instances in life, sometimes decisions are made for a person. When Leo came within five feet, the man in red stepped forward and swung his sword horizontally at Leo’s right. In that moment, Leo felt a surge of adrenaline like he had never experienced before. At the same time, he wasn’t sure if it was because his life was flashing before his eyes or fear was taking over, but he felt as though everything around him was moving in slow motion. He had blocked out the noises of the rowdy crowd and the only thing he could hear was the air being parted by his opponent’s sword.
Then the most curious thing happened.
Leo’s body moved before his mind could catch up with what it was doing. In one swift motion, Leo parried the oncoming strike with Sparrow, moved forward with surprising agility towards the man, and hit him hard in the face with the base of the handle of his sword. The man in red fell backwards to the ground and the sword in Leo’s hand followed, its sharp tip coming to a stop two inches away from his opponent’s neck. The man in red let go of his sword and the crowd went wild. Leo suddenly became aware of their cheers, like someone had just unmuted a loud television.
He blinked and stared at the man on the ground who was glaring up at him with a bloodied mouth. There was a crooked tooth next to his head. Leo had no idea how he had done it, but it felt so natural. Like he had practiced the move thousands of times. He returned his sword to its sheath and reached out a hand to help the man in red up, but it was slapped away rudely. The man in red picked himself up, spat blood on the ground, then walked away, not bothering to pick up his own sword.
Leo turned around to see Sam grinning widely, beaming like a proud father whose son had just beaten his opponent in a sword fight in a matter of seconds.
*
After being shooed out of the sparring area by the man with the feathered cap, Leo found his way to a gate in the fence which he must have missed before. He made a note of where it was in relation to the buildings around him, so he could avoid having to wrestle the fence again when called upon for his next match.
Sam had made his way over through the crowd and slapped Leo on the back. “Great job, son! Quick and effective, just like I taught you. Of course, that was an easy opponent. You won’t be so lucky the next time. Come, let’s take a walk and loosen up. There should be some time before your next round.”
Leo followed absently after Sam, still trying to figure out what had just happened. In those few seconds of combat, Leo felt like a master swordsman. Not because of some natural athletic talent, but due to relentless hours of training.
The more thought he put into it, the closer Leo had come to one conclusion: both realities were true. Houston and America. Chicago and Eva. His parents Colin and Kayla. History and math and science. There was no way he could have concocted all of those facts and people from his imagination.
But this world was real as well. Leo was somehow recalling blurred memories about growing up on the farm with his father, Sam. The older woman and girl from yesterday were his stepmother and stepsister. He couldn’t remember what had happened to his biological mother. His skills with the sword were no fluke. Sam had trained him since he was a boy. The calluses on his hands were proof of that.
That brought him back to the moment that bridged both worlds. There was the wooden box that Leo was holding and the blinding red light right before he woke up in the stable. It had to be some sort of key or gateway to this world, he thought. A world that resembled stuff of legend and books, where people embarked on quests and fought dragons and monsters. Was that his fate? What would happen if he died in this world?
Leo shuddered as he thought about the dire possibilities. Behind him, he heard someone scream in pain while the crowd cheered. Leo hadn’t seen anyone get cut or stabbed yet, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t allowed. In fact, there seemed to be little acknowledgment of any rules of engagement. Under normal circumstances, Leo might have been alarmed, but right now, he felt invincible.
Sam stopped at a stall selling water out of a large stone well that was located near the sidelines of the Silver Square. He paid the vender and used two wooden mugs to scoop water out of a pail that had been raised. Leo gratefully snatched a mug from him and took a big gulp. The water was refreshing and ice cold, even though the sun was soon approaching its apex.
As he paused for a breath in the middle of quenching his thirst, Leo noticed someone standing beside him. At first, he had thought it was a child due to the person’s height, but on second glance, he saw that it was a very short man with thick, bushy eyebrows.
The stout man growled at Leo. “What are you staring at, kid? Never seen a dwarf with no beard before? Go on, make a joke,” he growled, and partially drew a small dagger strapped to the front of his waist, reflecting the sun into Leo’s eyes for a moment.
“No, no. I’m sorry,” Leo said and quickly moved around the well so that Sam’s large figure was between him and the dwarf. The dwarf raised his head to look up at Sam, then let go of his dagger and went back to sipping out of his mug.
Letting out a content sigh, Sam set his mug down loudly on the edge of the well. It made a hollow sound when it clanked against the stone well. “Come on, better go back so we don’t miss your number for the next round,” he said.
*
Using Sam as a human shield, Leo amazingly made it to the front of the crowd and back to the fence. A fight had just finished, and a man was kneeling on the ground with his head bowed in defeat. There was a pool of blood around him and Leo could see him clutching his right hand.
Or so he thought, until Leo could make out the object sitting in the middle of the red puddle. It was the man’s right hand, with his fingers still tightly wrapped around the hilt of a sword. It had been cleanly severed from his arm at the wrist. The victor had their back towards Leo but he could tell that it was a female. She was clad in black and wore a vest made of chain mail. Each of her hands held a long silver blade. There was a drop of blood dripping down along the curved edge of the one in her left hand.
Her hair was blonde and braided and went down to her waist. Yet the most distinct feature Leo could see from the fence were her ears. They were sharp and pointed.
“Is she a…” Leo turned to Sam, not quite sure if he was able to believe his eyes. He knew that this shouldn’t come as a surprise since he was beginning to accept this new reality, but it was stupefying nonetheless.
Sam looked serious, and took a few moments to reply. “Yes. She’s an elf. Those blades are forged from moonsilver. Silver that has been exposed to moonlight for centuries. They say you don’t even feel it as the blade cuts through your flesh and bone.” He sounded worried.
“Elves have superior reflexes to humans. Hopefully someone else will take her down before you have to face her,” Sam said wistfully.
“Don’t elves use bows and arrows?” Leo asked. He didn’t know if that was true. All he had to go by were the elves he had seen in movies and read about in books. From all appearances, the elf in the arena did look as they were depicted back home, except she wasn’t wearing green. Maybe they had gotten that part wrong.
“They do. But when you’re able to move like they can, a blade or staff in closer quar
ters is just as lethal as an arrow struck from afar. Curious why an elf is here. You don’t see them often in cities.”
“Is she from Ifprin?” Leo asked, recalling what Ilena had told him that morning.
“Maybe. Maybe somewhere else. Nobody quite knows where all the elves live. Ifprin is one of the most prominent elf strongholds, but I’m sure there are many we don’t know of.”
In the arena, the female elf walked away with her back still facing Leo. Then, the man in the feathered cap approached her defeated opponent with two guards at his side, who picked the loser up by his arms and dragged him away. The hand in the puddle of blood was left untouched on the ground, as the next two numbers were called.
“Do people… do they get killed?” Leo asked Sam.
“No. If you kill your opponent, you’ll be disqualified. It has happened in the past, but very rarely. And that man,” Sam pointed at the man in the feathered cap. “He will intervene if he needs to.”
The man in the feathered cap was thin and sickly. Leo doubted he could even lift a sword. “He will?”
Sam chuckled. “Well, not him exactly. You see that feather?” Leo nodded. “That feather, if he plucks it off his cap and waves it, archers will fire at the person who intends to take their opponent’s life.”
Leo looked to where Sam was pointing, at the top of each of the towers that made up the corners of the Square. It took him a while to understand, until Leo saw a glint of sunlight reflect off what must have been the tip of an arrow. There were similar nooks at the top of each tower where archers must be perched, on watch at all time. It seemed a weird security measure, Leo thought. The archers guarded the Square and center of the city for threats from within, rather than being posted along the perimeter and walls to ward off forces from outside.
“Don’t worry, son. Your training will serve you well. If all else fails, I’ll be there blocking the sword before you know it.” Sam smiled gently and put his arm around Leo’s shoulder. Leo was grateful, but not exactly assured.
*
As luck would have it, Leo’s number was the first one called for the second round of matches. The sun was blazing brightly above him as he made his way into the middle of the arena with his sword drawn. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and the sides of his face, but Leo was too paranoid to wipe them away. The blood in the middle had started to dry, but the stray hand remained. Leo really wished someone would take it away. He could imagine himself backing down in a sword fight and then tripping over the hand. The crowd would love that.
He looked around for his opponent and his breathing became faster the longer nobody stepped into the arena. The man in the feathered cap shouted the number again. Another few moments went by with the crowd murmuring among themselves, and the number was shouted again.
This time, a svelte figure climbed over the fence to Leo’s right and sprinted towards him with a sword raised, parallel to the ground. It was a young man who wore embroidered clothes that looked expensive. The sword was more like a foil, like the type of sabers Leo had practiced with in fencing. Long and thin. And sharp.
In the blink of an eye, Leo had dodged the first stab, shifting to his left, but the young man was fast and chased him with another two stabs of the foil. Each thrust was forceful and swift, aimed at Leo’s heart. Leo managed to avoid the second stab, but had to parry the third attempt to pierce his chest.
However, the young man was relentless and gave Leo no respite. The same sequence of stabs and parries ensued for a while, until Leo could see that he was being slowly forced into a corner. After the young man’s numerous attempts, Leo had gotten used to his attacks and felt confident enough to turn the tables on him. After his next parry of the foil, Leo changed defense into offense and swung Sparrow at his opponent’s head. That left the young man the choice of blocking Leo’s strike or to keep stabbing at Leo, which would result in them dealing a fatal blow to each other.
The young man hesitated for a split second, but it was enough to determine the outcome of the match. He barely managed to raise his foil between Sparrow and his head and stumbled backward several steps from the force of Leo’s strike. Seizing the opportunity, Leo lunged forward and using his front foot as a pivot, spun and struck again. It was blocked. Leo then shifted his weight to his trailing foot and spun around his opponent in a fluid motion like a ballet dancer and swung his sword at the back of his opponent’s neck.
This time, no foil was there to block it. Luckily, Leo was well in control of his actions and stopped the blade right before it made contact, resting it on the young man’s shoulder. The next sounds Leo heard were the foil dropping on the ground and the crowd cheering.
Leo lowered his sword and breathed a long sigh of relief. When the match began, he was still unsure of his abilities. As it progressed, like muscle memory kicking in when someone rides a bicycle after not doing so for a long time, Leo became more confident and learned to trust the motions his body was propelling him forward to do.
“Hey, good match,” Leo said to the young man and offered out a hand. His defeated opponent looked at Leo’s hand like it was radioactive and walked off in a huff, leaving his foil on the ground.
*
The next three rounds for Leo were almost identical to his first match. Each time, he moved in quickly and defeated his opponent in one swift move. After the last round, the crowd had started to turn against him, jeering at him for denying them a long and protracted showdown. Of course, there was no other way Leo would rather have it. He was happy to use his precision and agility to end the matches as quickly as possible. It meant that he could conserve his energy for later matches while avoiding getting hurt.
By the time Leo had beaten his fifth opponent of the day, the sun was beginning to set. Around the Square, torches were lit and more people filed in as the competition grew thin. After five rounds, it was down to four individuals to vie for the trophy. Well, Leo assumed there was a trophy for all the trouble.
Apart from Leo, the other three who had made it thus far were the giant shirtless man, a knight in shining armor, and the female elf. Leo retreated to the fence where Sam was waiting for him with a mug of water. He gulped down the water and wiped his mouth. The wonder and disbelief of being able to get so far in the tournament was gone, and Leo was now focused on his possible opponents. Each of them posed a significant huddle and unique threat.
The giant had bulldozed his way through everyone that dared to stand before him, charging at his opponents like a bull seeing red. The elf swung her blades with such speed and viciousness that the thought of facing her frightened Leo. Only one of her opponents had avoided letting her draw blood, though nobody else had lost an appendage to her. The knight wore a full suit of armor and outlasted his opponents by defending vigorously until they grew tired and exposed themselves to his counterattack. Leo wasn’t sure who he would rather fight.
The crowd had backed away from Sam and Leo, allowing them some space. They had seen Leo’s skill with the sword and whether it was out of respect or fear, Leo was grateful to be able to stretch his arms. He was about to ask Sam if they could go get something to eat, when horns started roaring around the Square. Everyone stopped talking and moving as Leo looked around, wondering what was going on.
Looking in the direction where most people were turned to, he saw movement across the arena in the viewing stands. There had been a few people who took in the tournament from the stands throughout the day, but now it was packed for the grand finale.
Leo couldn’t see him, but the voice of the man in the feathered cap was unmistakable as he bellowed, “The Protector and Regent of Silverbrick! Lord Bannor!”
The crowd once again cheered and applauded, this time as a distinguished gentleman walked out into the stands. His hair and beard were silver grey and his garments were purple, adorned with golden trinkets all over. He waved at the people of Silverbrick, like Leo had seen many politicians do, as he went to take his seat in the center of the stands. Following
right behind him were two women, one much older than the other. The older lady, presumably Lord Bannor’s wife, sat down beside him while the younger woman took a seat behind them. When she turned to face the arena, Leo saw her face. It was Eva.
*
His heart nearly jumped out of his mouth when Leo saw Eva take her seat in the stands. His hypothesis about being transported to this world by the wooden box was starting to gain some ground. He couldn’t remember those last moments before he was blinded by the red light, but he could vaguely recall Eva saying his name. Had she also touched the cube and been transported here?
Then again, Eva looked like she was somebody important here. Maybe he had seen her before, and dreamt about meeting her in Chicago. There was only one way to resolve this. He had to speak with her.
He pointed at the stands. “Who’s that? Behind the Lord?” he asked Sam.
“That would be the Lord’s daughter. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” Sam chuckled and elbowed Leo playfully in the ribs.
“What’s her name?”
“Eva. Leo, everybody in Silverbrick and the surrounding farmlands knows that. Are you sure you’re feeling fine?”
“Of course. I’m okay, don’t worry about it,” Leo said. There was no way Eva could see him where he stood, even if he jumped and waved. He would just look like an enthusiastic fan. He would have to wait until his next fight. Hopefully she would recognize him, even in these rags. She looked exactly the same as she did in Chicago, except that she was now wearing a long purple dress.
Just when Leo thought things couldn’t get any stranger, a woman in a white gown walked into the middle of the square, carrying a tiny golden harp. Everyone stopped talking when she started to pluck at the strings. The melody was serene and soothing while surprisingly loud. Leo felt as though he was hearing it through headphones around his ears. Maybe it was a magic harp. Or the woman was magic. He couldn’t bother to quibble with the details at this point. He just wanted his next fight to commence so that he could get Eva’s attention.