"—and that's why I aimed for its eye—Ouch, too tight, too tight." Adam winced as the old herbalist Kareem tightened the bandages on his ribs.
He was retelling the story of his fight with the Fenrir, adding a few heroic touches, of course. He was lying down on a small cot for patients, while Anas sat across from him, jaw hanging loose.
Aya was standing behind her brother, tending to his bruised shoulder with herbs and bandages, and even she, usually the picture of disinterest, kept getting distracted from her task by his story.
Adam relished Anas' awestruck expression, continuing. "The stupid monster was enraged, lunged at me with all its might, but I was faster. So it picked up the dead wolves and started throwing them at me." Adam cleared his throat and drank a sip of water.
He took his chance while the herbalist was mixing his medicine, hopped off the bed, and held the old man's stick in an exaggerated swordsmanship stance.
"And as I jumped around, dodging the wolf projectiles, I slammed into a tree, and broke my bow. So, I decided to face the abomination with my knife, standing my ground, all bloodied and hurt. I bet it got scared, since when Isha backed me up, it fled like a scared puppy." Adam swung the cane in a flurry of slashes, elaborating on how the fight went.
"It was so scared in fact, that it chased my horse for a minute while you were passed out." Isha came marching from the front door, a sarcastic grin plastered on his face.
Anas raised an eyebrow at the comment, while Aya covered her mouth as she giggled. Kareem just slapped Adam's head from behind, then he snatched his walking stick back. "It's good to see you safe, Isha. My ears were about to bleed, listening to this bumbling buffoon."
Anas stood up, stopping Isha from returning the greeting. "Wait, how did you get the shot? How far were you from the Fenrir when you shot it? Was it moving? Or did you get it to stop?"
He was clearly excited, flustering Adam as he stepped closer. "How big was it as a target? What arrowheads did you use?"
Isha's smile hardened, and he held Anas' shoulder from behind. "Adam barely survived. Take his words with a grain of salt, Anas."
Anas turned around, facing Isha with a challenging gaze. "He survived, that is in and of itself an achievement that cannot be disparaged." He then turned back towards Adam. "So, did you really shoot it in the eye?"
Every eye in the clinic turned towards Adam, as silence followed Anas' question. Adam gulped in a nervous attempt to act confident, but that only made his story sound like fiction.
"I-I got lucky. The wolves distracted it." Adam rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.
Anas looked between him and Isha for confirmation, and when Isha nodded in approval, he froze, staring at Adam in wide eyes.
Even Aya's skeptical gaze turned surprised, her eyes quickly darting to her father, making sure she heard right. Her old man looked even more aged as he rubbed his temples, mumbling something about a tree and an apple in a hushed frustration.
Anas lunged forward, gripping Adam's shoulders and violently shaking him. "You have got to join the archery competition, Adam. And next time you want to hunt the Fenrir down, I'll be the one to take its second eye."
Isha's eyes looked horrified, and he yanked the two boys away from each other before Adam got the chance to answer. Kareem, on the other hand, reached towards his son and grabbed him by the ear.
"No son of mine will be partaking in such a suicide mission." The old man simply stated. "And you, boy, are lucky you came back in one piece." He pointed at Adam, raising his voice sharply.
His finger lingered on Adam's face, invading his nostrils with the smell of herbs. "And you still owe me three coppers."
Isha nodded in confirmation, "Adam and I had a deal, he would not step foot in that place again, if he wants to participate in the tournament." He took out three coppers and handed them to the town's only medic.
Anas winced as his father's grasp on his ear tightened, "Ouch— wait, Adam already applied?" his voice both happy and surprised.
"I thought today was the tournament's announcement." He looked at Isha with skepticism.
Adam looked between Anas and Isha, shaking his head in disapproval. "I was going to apply today, and I was planning to make a grand show out of revealing that." Adam pouted, crossing his arms and turning his back dramatically.
Aya chuckled at Adam's words, as all eyes turned to her. "Adam, no one would be surprised that you would participate in it. Especially after last year's tantrum. And when the Fenrir story gets to the town's folk, you would be lucky if the other kids don't burn you on a pyre."
Adam grinned in triumph. Glancing at Isha's horrified eyes, he stifled a laugh, 'He just realized, hehe.'
"I did not throw a tantrum last year. I just wanted to compete; it's the elders' fault I was dragged out of the tournament grounds." Adam's lips trembled, trying to sound like a victim.
Isha just palmed his face, while Anas laughed at his words. "That was not what happened, Adam, you were not old enough to apply, yes, but you were dragged out unceremoniously because you barged in, in the middle of a duel, with a steel sword."
"A blunted steel sword," Adam added. "This year is going to be different, I just know it, I'm going to dominate in the combat competition."
Kareem tapped his ribs with the cane, making pain spider web through his body. "Those wounds will need a week at best to completely heal. So your glory hunting will have to wait."
Anas was visibly upset at Adam's statement. "Adam, with an aim like yours, you can seriously compete with the best in town in the archery section of the tournament." He pointed at Adam's mummified body. "And you don't have to risk injury in target shooting."
Aya's eyes widened at her brother, "Oh, so NOW you decide to be the mature one?" Adam wheezed at Anas' flustered expression.
Outside, drums boomed, the tournament announcement had begun, and the people started to gather in the town's plaza.
Kareem tapped his cane rhythmically on the wooden floorboards. "Alright, enough noise, off with you. I want to have some peace and quiet."
Aya wanted to protest, but her father didn't give her the chance. "Just make sure those buffoons don't do anything stupid Aya, I'll be right here when you come back."
Aya grabbed a pouch of herbs from a stand and followed the three boys outside, visibly upset that she was leaving her father's side.
And as they walked towards the town plaza, she tossed Adam the pouch. "Chew these if the pain gets worse. And no swordplay until those ribs knit. Don't be an idiot."
Adam saluted with sarcasm. "Yes ma'am." He then stretched his shoulder with a wince. "No need to worry, though, a champion who can face down a Fenrir can't be hurt by mere men."
Both Isha and Aya shook their heads at his comment. Both were tired of his nonsense.
The group walked into the plaza square. It smelled of roasted chestnuts and sweat. Banners snapped in the wind, each carrying the sigils of the most prominent houses of the town.
However, three new banners were erected on the podium behind the announcer, each with an unfamiliar sigil, with a foreign figure standing between the banners and the announcer.
The master of ceremonies, Bilal, waited for the crowd to settle before he started announcing the tournament's rules.
Bilal had a strong, stocky build, his midsection just starting to round out. He had looked like that for years, but today, he was uncomfortable in his own clothes. He kept stealing glances at the three figures behind him.
When everyone settled down for him to start, he pounded his staff on the platform. His voice boomed like it usually did, but he couldn't hide the nervous edge in it.
"This year's tournament is no ordinary bout!" he bellowed. "We're honored by guests from Harvor, Tir, and Yathren!"
The crowd erupted with murmurs. The local event was shared between most towns and cities in Marelia, but a visit from three prominent city members was unprecedented.
Adam examined the supposed guests with wary eyes as each of them stood to introduce themselves.
A man in his mid-forties was the first to start. A wiry man who fashioned himself with a high-collared cyan tunic, his sleeves embroidered with silver feathers. "My name is Kian of house Moradi, greetings." He bowed in respect, "I bring with me a gift from Tir, a prize for the winner of the combat tournament."
He opened a wooden box from his side, revealing an elegant curved sword. "This sword is crafted from steel procured from the Chaos Mountains, its sharp edge tested to cut flesh like it does paper."
Adam's eyes gleamed, the curved sword was eerily similar to the one his father held.
The second esteemed guest stood to introduce herself. A sharp-eyed woman in an emerald silk dress. Tiny beads, traced patterns like ivy up the sleeves and along her waist. She leaned on a long, wrapped pole-like weapon. "I am Hessa of house Nassar. And I bring with me a great lance, carved from the mountains of Stonecrest. It is a prize for the greatest jouster in your town."
She flicked her hair back before she unwrapped the lance and handed it to the master of ceremonies. Arrogance seeping from her every step as she turned around and walked to her seat.
Adam did not care for the lance, but its craftsmanship looked genuinely intriguing. 'Father left some notes about the basic spearmanship.'
In fact, Noah talked about all weapons in his notebook, yet swordsmanship was what he most focused on. And that was for a reason.
A sword is not the most effective tool in every situation. A spear is more useful against enemies with a long reach, a war hammer is better against armor, and a mace is easier to maintain. However, swords are the most versatile.
A sword can pierce, cut, and even bash. It can be used effectively at a variety of ranges. It is swift and maneuverable. Every part of it, from the tip to the pommel, can be used to attack. It was never the best at everything, but the sword is the most adaptable weapon one can use.
The last of the foreign guests looked the most striking out of the three. He was decorated with jewelry from the neck down, even his fingers, each carried a colorful ring that clunked together as he clenched and unclenched his fists.
He struggled to stand from his weight, but he managed, breathing heavily as his double chins danced with his movement. "My utmost greetings, residents of Aram town. I am Ian of house Velmont, and I bring with me a present to the greatest archer of your tournament."
He paused to take a deep breath, before Anas interrupted from the crowds, "That's me, He's talking about me."
Aya elbowed her brother's injured shoulder, as the crowd wheezed at his comment.
"Ahem," Ian smiled at him warmly, but his smile froze, then slowly faded, as his eyes locked with the boy sitting beside him. Adam.
"Why is he looking at me like that?" Adam whispered to his other side, where Isha sat. The man looked familiar from somewhere, but he didn't know where.
"Don't engage. We don't know what sick hobbies men like that have." Isha covered his mouth as he leaned to Adam's ear.
"This bow is carved from the ancient trees of the Evergreen forest beneath Yathren. The string is made of the finest silk, strung by Yathren's best weapon smiths…." The fat man's gloating kept going, making many in the crowd yawn with disinterest.
Adam looked to his left, and he could swear he could see stars sparkling in Anas' eyes, the more the fat merchant kept going.
Anas noticed his gaze, a smirk blooming on his face. "Too bad you're set on swordsmanship."
Adam groaned at his words, he did not care for such a fancy tool. He merely used the bow for hunting, and he could not see the art behind taking his adversary's life from a distance. It lacked substance.
Yathren's guest of honor finally finished his speech before the announcer, Bilal, started stating the rules of the tournament.
"Combat will feature duels from young warriors aged fifteen to twenty. No steel armor, and the swords must all be blunted. Fights will end with surrender or with damage that is deemed severe for one to continue."
His staff pounded on the platform twice before he continued. "Archery. It will be standard target practice. With the target increasing its distance from the competitors with each round. All ages from fifteen to thirty are allowed to participate."
The staff slammed thrice. "Jousting on horseback. Lances as short as their wielder are as short as you can get. And you must also own a horse. The lances should be brittle enough to break on impact, and blunted." He paused.
"And no, pitchforks are not allowed, Khalid." The crowd exploded with laughter.
Bilal's serious expression faltered, "Only grown men between twenty to thirty years old can participate." He slammed his staff again. "Registration starts now! First bouts are next week!"
The crowd started to disperse, while Adam's group huddled together in the corner. Isha was the first to talk about the tournament.
"This year's tourney is weird. We never had prizes, or guests. But I like that lance. So Anas. Adam. You guys will be helping me practice till next week."
Aya's face visibly aged. "You too?" she muttered under her breath.
Adam, on the other hand, was delighted. "Oh, I see, so we are hoarding all the prizes, huh?"
Anas nudged Adam with his elbow. "Someone is confident."
Aya shook her head in frustration. "More like overconfident."
"Hey," Adam puffed his chest out. "I stared down the Fenrir and shot its eye out!"
"Allegedly," Aya muttered, but her lips quirked as she turned to walk with the crowd, following Isha and her brother.
"I heard that." Adam struggled to follow his three companions through the crowd.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw envoys of Yathren and Harvor conversing in secret beside him, unaware of his presence.
"… strange, that boy with mismatched eyes. I think I have seen him before." Whispered the fat merchant named Ian.
The woman from Harvor shrugged with disinterest. "Really? All northerners look the same to me."