#13 - Battles in and out

And a few notes from the author

Lili

dez 13, 2024

Partilhar

Author's note:

First, thank you for making it this far! With so much information out there, it's not easy to follow a story for so long.

What you've read so far is the first, unedited version. I'm open to hearing suggestions and comments - even the name might change in the future, and that's part of the courageous process of putting ideas out into the world 😊

I've heard some feedback regarding the lack of descriptions about places and people - I must agree that there's some information I'll need to add in the revision.

Turning ideas into words isn't easy, but it's a delight. I live between two extremes: "It's getting good, keep going!” and “You know you’ll have to change a lot, right? Come back, start again!" - I'm choosing the first option, and I want to stick to it until I finish this first story in my Greenfar universe (spoiler: there are still a lot of stories to come).

In the end, I'll revisit the descriptions, Quel's age, her personality and the pace - in particular, my initial idea wasn't to spend so much time in her childhood/adolescence, but I feel that some important relationships need to be built now.

The chapter you're about to read is an experiment with Quel's point of view. We're moving away from the third person and taking a walk in the footsteps of this young swordswoman’s mind during her first tournament. I hope you enjoy it and if you can, please leave a kind and sincere comment.

I'd love to hear your thoughts too 💙

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“In the first tournament, you can choose any sword you want.” - announced Master Garoa.

That was three weeks ago, and I didn't know whether to choose a light sword that would give me more mobility or a heavier one that would anchor my blows better. Perhaps the second option would make the fight shorter, but I would spend more energy on defensive movements, depending on the opponent's weapon.

I chose the lightest one, a medium, versatile rapier. The list of fights was released on the day and prepared by the monks based on our exercise history over the last few months - and probably other criteria that they discussed among themselves, seeking to test our skills and put us in suitable challenges.

My foot stepped on the white part of the circle that marked my first combat arena in the tournament. The circumference marked in red on the ground had only two white spaces, on opposite sides, indicating the appropriate places to enter. I could already see my opponent on the other white mark, with a two-handed sword. A big guy with a big sword, “Fitting”, I thought. I'd need to be light on my feet to dodge heavier blows.

“Get into position and greet each other.” - Master Lizu's voice made me listen to the surroundings for a brief moment. Several other fights were taking place in red circles marked out in the huge arena. Apprentices circulated and watched the fights, but the loudest sound was of blades clashing.

I returned my attention to the feel of the sword handle in my right hand and took a few steps forward. Zer did his best to assuage my anxiety about the first tournament. He said it was just 'one fight of many', that I was under no obligation to win', that it was a 'learning space'... but the adrenaline of my first fight was greater than all the hours I'd spent meditating.

And now my opponent was in front of me, the sword in my hands and the adrenaline rushing like a raging wind through my veins.

“Fight.”

There was no time between the command and the first blow I landed on the boy's sword, and I soon understood his choice. His style was defensive, and a large weapon gave him more room to cover my blows. Or did he have to take this stance because of my attitude?

Thinking wasn't part of the fight. One, two, three, four blows again and again. The technical sequences repeated endlessly with Master Rhano were all there automatically. Pure muscle memory giving vent to that maddening need to go ahead and strike.

“End of fight. Return to the arena and greet each other.”

“End of fight?!” - I looked around, and we were both outside the circle.

“Go-good fight, Quel... I thought you'd never stop punching, even after you threw me out of the arena.” - Doniel looked a little startled and I scowled.

“I guess I concentrated too much on getting the sequences right and didn't see the circle, I'm sorry, Doni. Good choice of sword.”

“Yours too. It suits your style.” - And he walked off amid the apprentices circulating between arenas.

I could feel the exhaustion that follows an adrenaline rush, but I only had a few minutes before the next fight. I looked for the nearest rest area, sat down and did some exercises to reduce my breathing rate. I needed a minimum of balance to keep going, no matter how difficult it was.

A few words from Zer would make all the difference now, but wisely he had been allocated to assess the fights in the more distant areas. I was on my own.

I heard my name being called. Next fight.

There I was again, stepping onto the white part of the circle. This time my opponent had chosen short daggers - the champions of taking apprentices to the vitaric center to heal cuts of all sizes. They are almost melee weapons, and defending a close-range blow with a long sword is almost impossible. I need to disarm him as soon as possible.

The adrenaline rush was more intense than in the first fight. I said to myself: “I won the first fight, now I have to win the second”. My fingers ached with the unconscious force I was using to hold the handle of my sword.

“Get into position and greet each other.”

I would take those daggers out of his hand at any cost.

This time I didn't attack immediately. We began a dance, the best blow would be the one delivered in response to the first attack, and I couldn't advance at the risk of putting myself in a vulnerable position for those short blades.

I defended the first blow. I defended the second. My best chance was to land a disarming blow that would take out both daggers at the same time. Otherwise, it would take too much effort for me to bring one down, and I would be too exposed to his counterstrike with the second weapon.

I landed an intentional sequence of blows. I knew the movements he would have to make to defend himself. Again and again, until his hands positioned the blades the way I wanted: crossed daggers. It was time.

With a single movement, I struck the hilt of both daggers with all my might, using the hilt of my sword. Both flew away.

“End of fight.”

It worked. I won. And the sudden drop in adrenaline swept over me again, I almost fell, but I tried to pretend to be ok.

“Good fight, Miro, I will need more practice with daggers.” - I picked up the weapons from the floor and handed them to him, who just grumbled and walked away.

Part of me wanted the next challenge, but my body was tired, my mind exhausted, and I just wanted the tournament to be over, but there was one last fight.

I looked everywhere for someone I could trust to talk to, but I had no success. I decided to watch a fight taking place in a nearby circle to distract my mind from myself.

Two apprentices were fighting with medium-sized swords like mine. The combat seemed almost unpretentious. They would probably have several exercises to correct their technique, but they didn't seem to be heading for exhaustion like I was.

There were a few well-placed blows, sequences that were a little insecure but complete, and in the end one of them got off balance and gave the other the chance to take him down. A good fight. Light, concentrated and... present. Those apprentices seemed present and attentive to the fight. Aware of themselves, of each other and of their surroundings. And not a barrel of adrenaline about to explode that could only see a tunnel with the opponent at the end.

I took a deep breath, it was time for my last fight.

Could I fight that lightly? I tried to observe my surroundings. I nodded to Master Riz, our evaluator, as I entered the arena. I looked around and saw several older apprentices approaching to watch the fight. These people had known me since I was a child. I was in a safe, learning environment, as Zer said. Why was it so hard to relax?

I looked ahead and saw Theago greeting me and holding the handle of some kind of rapier, with a long, very thin blade. I returned the greeting and got into position.

“Fight.” - said Master Riz.

I forced my breathing to slow and my feet to move gently, but I had no idea how to start a fight in that forcedly...relaxed state. Theago struck and I dodged quickly. His second blow was like opening the floodgates of a dam.

Adrenaline rushed through me, and it felt good. It felt correct. It didn't matter what state I would be in afterwards, now it was all or nothing. There was no time to decide on the next steps between one blow and the next - and the defensive style was definitely not in my nature. Oh, how I hated it! How hard it was to think in the middle of a fight!

I threw a basic sequence of blows to gain balance, but I didn't have a strategy. So, I jabbed and jabbed just to stay in control of the dance. Theago lost his balance, but his light sword helped him recover easily, and he was good. Knocking him down or disarming him didn't seem possible. Taking him out of the circle, even less so.

In a defensive move of mine, the tip of his blade made a small cut on the back of my hand, and I realized the length of that long sword was my chance. His blows had a slight delay in getting to the next position - microseconds, in which the thin blade suffered from air resistance.

During a sequence of Theago's blows, instead of defending, I dodged and rolled behind him. Before he could turn his body and sword, I was already kneeling with my blade pointed at the middle of his back.

“End of fight.”

I won.

But everything went dark, and I blacked out.

The Tales of Greenfar are originally written in Portuguese. If you find any major mistakes, please be kind and let me know 🌻

🔖 New chapters every Friday!

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The Tales of Greenfar

#14 - Relax and fight