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“Do you remember what they said about Icarus?”
Michael grinned wildly as he held Eurydike between his thighs, checking his hair in the mirror before he started tying the blindfold around his eyes. Isobel just didn’t understand. Maybe he was being overconfident in insisting he could do the entire competition blindfolded, but he was here to look good and show off for all the little earthlings. The blindfold accentuated that more than she could possibly comprehend.
“That he had high desires and died going for them,” Michael responded. Isobel scoffed so loud that Michael couldn’t help but laugh.
“If that was what you got from that story, we need to give you a better review,” she snapped. Michael shook his head.
“I’ll be fine, Isobel. Do you really think any of the Earthlings are going to pose any real challenge? And, let’s be real, no one from our entire planet is going to fuck with me too hard. They wouldn’t stand a chance even if they did, but we all know we’re against them and not each other,” Michael explained.
This was the first time his father had (stupidly) invited the humans to their competition. It was to show camaraderie. Put up your finest soldiers, you sons of lords, let them show off in this battle! But no one wanted them here. Michael felt the need to make a point.
“You worry me, that’s all,” Isobel sighed, “At least Max is properly trained with his sword. You trained yourself on your little spear.”
“Hey! Don’t call Eurydike a spear, she’s a glaive. Apologize,” Michael pouted to her general direction.
“I will not,” she said, “And for someone who hates humans so much, it’s bold of you to name your spear after one.”
“ Glaive.”
“Whatever.”
Isobel patted him on the cheek and gave him a warm hug. It was clear she was genuinely worried and he tried not to take it as a personal insult to his capability. It wasn’t a secret he was the best swordsman in the Dreq Coterie and was probably the best out of all of the different Coteries on the planet.
His mother along with Isobel’s mother and Max’s mother all three ran the Dreq Coterie politically and socially, though Michael’s father was the one who ran most of the social events. That being said, Michael was well known and, admittedly, very privileged. He’d begun sword lessons very young and had found his calling in the glaive by the time he was 16. He remembered his mother having a fit about his choice of weapon while his weapons teacher had praised him for giving him something fun to work with for once. Everyone chose swords.
Not only was the glaive badass, but it often threw the average swordsman for a loop. It required a different stance, different balance, different placement, different strengths. How could they possibly compete with something they know nothing about?
It always meant Michael excelled at these things. He understood their weapons and they never understood his. It was a very, very beautiful thing. A beautifully hilarious thing. It meant he looked forward to every competition. It was all for fun, no one really got hurt past a few scratches or anything, but it was to show off nonetheless.
Michael waited in his room until Sheyric, his unofficial brother, strolled in and immediately snorted.
“I look good, don’t I?”
“Your arrogance precedes you,” Sheyric said. Michael felt his blindfold tighten before Sheyric touched up his curls a bit. “There. Now you look good.”
“I always look good.”
“Again‒arrogance.”
Michael laughed and grabbed Eurydike, holding her in his hand as they started their walk towards the competition grounds. Sheyric would be competing as well, though in a completely different facet. His specialty was archery and while the man was incredible at hand-to-hand combat, it was never smart to bring an arrow to a sword fight.
“Did you get a look at the humans? Were they trembling with fear?” Michael asked, leaning close.
“Not quite trembling, but they were clustered together. They seemed to take this whole competition thing as more of an actual fight than an event to celebrate our Coteries and togetherness,” Sheyric said. Michael went to open his mouth to say that he took it rather seriously, but Sheyric was already ahead of him. “You don’t count. You just like to show off. You’re still kind to the people you best.”
“Well, of course. I don’t want them to hate me because I’m an asshole. I want them to think I’m kind and better than them and hate me for that,” Michael said. He took each turn with practiced ease. He’d walked these hallways so many times in his life, his eyes weren’t necessary to get through them.
“I should push you into the wall.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I would and The Bloodvisage would do that little laugh she does and shake her head and say ‘oh, Sheyric, don’t be mean’ and I’ll say I won’t be and smile and then I’ll do it again,” Sheyric said with the tone of someone who knew he was the favorite. Which really didn’t count because he was his mother’s apprentice. Everything he knew about archery, politics, hand-to-hand combat was because Michael’s mother taught him. Michael might’ve been jealous if he cared.
“Shut up,” Michael laughed anyway and then they stepped outside, taking a deep breath and smiling at the sound of people talking and preparing for the fight around them. It was a nice sound.
“Are you going to be able to make it to your spot with your dumb fucking blindfold?” Sheyric asked.
“Of course I will,” Michael insisted.
“Mn,” Sheyric grunted, clearly lacking faith in his abilities. Michael would’ve argued, but he and Sheyric were already walking to the same spot.
The Dreq Coterie was filled to the brim of skilled fighters and politicians and it was why they were one of the big six. If Michael felt like being polite (which he often didn’t) he might’ve extended that to Earth and say the big seven. But there was absolutely no kind of alliance on Earth. The only thing the entire planet agreed upon was that they were skeptical of Michael’s people.
He wanted to keep them skeptical.
“ Michael,” Max hissed the moment he got close, “What are you doing? ”
“Being a show-off, I guess.”
“You’re going to get yourself actually hurt if you do shit like that,” Max told him.
“I already said that,” Sheyric said.
“And so did Isobel. Look, I get none of you have any faith in me, but that doesn’t mean you have to be total dicks about it. Just accept I’m better than you and we can move on,” Michael bragged. Max and Sheyric both shoved him at the same time and Michael laughed loudly.
The competition began with his father’s booming voice, his natural bravado carrying across the entire yard. Michael remembered thinking he was so cool for that when he was little. He knew now that the cool one, albeit strict, was his mother. She was the one who gained the title of The Bloodvisage after defeating thirteen men with nothing but a classic cutlass, a battle axe, and skill.
Different fighters from different Coteries fought with skill and Michael almost wished he was able to see it, but he wasn’t about to risk taking his blindfold off and seem less cool. Instead, he listened while Max fought Evarius of the Piri Coterie and won before losing to Gontas from the Zand Coterie. Other Coteries were battling it out on different parts of the field and whoever the last two standing were would be brought together.
Michael sat back and waited for his turn. His name was eventually called and he got up, listening to the cheers as he twirled Eurydike with practiced precision. He loved that sound. He would be going against the previous winner, Astram of the Kynd Coterie which was a smaller Coterie in the southeast. Michael hadn’t seen him today, but he knew he was a pretty big guy who was a fan of dual swords.
“Ah, Little Rath, you’re feeling bold, I see,” Astram taunted. Michael grinned.
“I’m going by Michael these days,” Michael said. These days really meant since he was six and Astram really knew that, but it wasn’t uncommon for people to still call him Little Rath if only to remind him that he was named after his father.
“I know,” Astram said.
The beginning of the fight was announced and Michael dodged his blades with ease, already knowing that he swung nearly immediately to catch his opponent off guard. Michael swung Eurydike and hit the wooden side against his calves and he heard a soft grunt. Michael grinned.
It went like that with the next string of opponents, dodging and knocking them around with Eurydike and fighting blade against blade until they ended up on the ground and his foot on their chest. He knew them and their fighting styles well which is probably how he got away with it all while blindfolded, but he would never admit to that.
Rath, his father, let him be praised as the winner of this round and a break was announced. They were meant to eat, gather their strength, and socialize. Michael kept his blindfold on.
“You’re ridiculous,” Sheyric scoffed, handing him a flask of water. Michael downed it and leaned back, smiling in his general direction.
“I’m winning.”
“You’re going to be blinded the moment you take that thing off.”
“Nah.”
“I heard a guy from Earth made it to the final four, so you might get to fight him,” Sheyric said. His hand touched Michael’s chin and a damp cloth swiped across his cheek where he’d got nicked. It wasn’t deep enough to really even bleed or hurt, but it was a cut nonetheless.
“Good, I hope I do.”
“I hope you don’t,” Sheyric scoffed, “You’re going to get your ass kicked. He’s a general’s son.”
“I’m The Bloodvisage’s son, what does that have to do with anything?” Michael wondered.
“Because you don’t know his fighting style. That’s right, I know that’s how you’ve gotten this far,” Sheyric said. Michael didn’t stop grinning.
“Don’t worry, I’m going to kick his ass.”
Sheyric sighed, loud and long, and swatted his leg with the cloth. “You’ll have to kick Lachlia’s ass first, then.”
Michael pouted just a little bit at the name. She was easily one of the most gorgeous people his planet had produced and he hated that he had to be blindfolded while fighting her. She was from the Rhox Coterie, a little group of under 100 in the North, and they all specialized in war hammers which was unbearably sexy. They usually didn’t get very far in competitions though since it was rather easy for them to accidentally destroy others’ weapons and they usually played it safe. Lachlia, as always, didn’t give a shit. He always cherished the bruises she gave him.
“Don’t pout, she thinks you’re annoying,” Sheyric laughed.
“No, she doesn’t, we’re best friends.”
“ Sure,” Sheyric snorted.
After a while of relaxing and re-hydrating, his father’s voice announced that the next round would be beginning. The first set would be Michael against Lachlia and then Desiric from the Krin Coterie, another one of the big six, against Alexander from Earth. How boring did that sound? Just Alexander from Earth. How did he even make it that far with something that boring attached to his name?
“Please be gentle with me,” Michael said as he strolled up to where Lachlia was. She huffed a laugh.
“You’re lucky they let you keep your precious stick,” Lachlia said.
“Why is everyone so mean to Eurydike? What did she do to you?” Michael wondered. She laughed again and then they announced that the fight had begun. “Come closer so you can pretend you can win in a non-deadly fight with that hammer of yours.”
“You’re such a loser,” she told Michael. He grinned.
“Yeah.”
Michael could hear the air around her hammer as she swung and he dodged it, though he felt that it was close enough to almost hit. He liked that feeling. It was exhilarating.
Now, Michael wasn’t that skilled at battling against war hammers. He was used to swords and other bladed weapons, but this was a little different and Lachlia knew how to use it. The only reason he got around it was that he knew how she fought. They’d been fighting since they were kids.
He knew that she relied on her left leg rather than her right and he knew that she was swift and nimble. That being said, he swung towards her right side and anticipated her jumping out of the way, so he quickly spun Eurydike and hit her left leg with the blunt end of his blade. Lachlia gasped and he really did almost take his blindfold off to make sure it didn’t cut her, but he realized it didn’t matter when she straight up punched him in the arm.
“You can’t just punch me!” Michael said, trying not to let his guard down though he found it funny.
“Oh yeah?” Lachlia asked and he didn’t have a warning before she just jumped on him. The wind knocked out of him as he hit the ground and pushed Eurydike out of his reach.
“This isn’t a wrestling match!” Michael said as he caught his breath, but he was laughing and let her pin him down. She was strong, he had to give her that, and it took him a bit before he wrapped his leg around her and flipped them over even while she was laughing.
“You’re such a dick.”
“Sounds like you like me,” Michael said.
He put his full weight on her as he used his leg to feel for Eurydike, trying to keep Lachlia pinned even as she squirmed and hit him, but they were both still laughing. He got Eurydike and quickly pushed himself to his feet, putting his foot on her abdomen and putting the wooden side of Eurydike on her chest until they announced him as the winner.
“Piece of cake.”
“Barely!”
Michael extended his arm to her, pulling her up to her feet. He shook his head as he tugged her in for a friendly post-fight hug.
“You let me win,” he said quietly, keeping by her ear.
“They announced the Earthling as the winner far too quickly,” she said, “He wields a curved one-handed broadsword, favors his left side, and can jump pretty high. You’re better at fighting broadswords. Kick his ass.”
“Have I mentioned today how you’re my favorite?” Michael mused, grinning even as she shoved him back.
Michael went back to his side to hydrate and receive a little mini-pep talk for his fight with Alexander of Earth. Sheyric even did him the honor of making sure his hair looked nice. Michael was more than a little pumped with adrenaline. Of all the times he’d had to meet Earthlings, he never got to fight any.
He couldn’t wait to show this one that he was much, much better.
Michael walked back out to the field and waited until he heard footsteps approaching him.
“You think that blindfold is a good idea?” the guy asked in rather impressive Antarii. Michael was instantly struck by how fucking nice his voice sounded in his language which was actually not at all fair or allowed. He twisted his grip on Eurydike.
“Yeah. I plan to win and, well, I’m a guy that likes to make a statement,” Michael bragged.
“So it’s not an excuse to use for when you lose?” Alexander of Earth asked. Despite the niceness of his voice and fluency of which he spoke his language, Michael couldn’t even offer a cocky grin. He just wanted this to begin and he wanted to win.
“I’m not going to lose.”
“Mhm, okay.”
His father announced the beginning and Michael kept his hearing keenly aware of Alexander. He heard his footsteps crunch as he walked to the side of him slowly. Michael raised Eurydike and spun her casually, preparing to dodge or throw or slash when needed.
The broadsword caught the sound of the wind as he swung and Michael blocked it with his blade with perfect precision, pushing him back and spinning Eurydike to use the wooden end to shove him back even further. He didn’t stumble to the ground though, unfortunately.
He did, however, swing again very quickly. Michael matched him beat for beat, relying on the sound of the air. He was a little annoyed that he hadn’t tripped Alexander up yet. He kind of liked the idea of not even working up a sweat. That would’ve been super cool.
Instead, Alexander delivered a swift kick to his thigh less than a second after he swung his blade, catching him off guard. Michael stumbled and grunted in annoyance and swung Eurydike in his general direction, but he didn’t hit anything. How high could he jump exactly?
Michael listened for him again and heard nothing for a second too long and received a swift kick to his ass which did actually manage to knock him to his knees. Before he could get up, Alexander of Earth kicked him in the back which pushed him to his hands and knees.
“Oh, come on, this is too easy,” Alexander laughed. Michael quickly rolled onto his back and swung his blade with enough power to throw Max off course, using that moment to get to his feet.
“Don’t get too cocky.”
“Pot, kettle.”
“ Huh?” Michael asked, but he didn’t let the weird words distract him as he dodged another swing and then another. Lachlia didn’t warn him that he was fast.
The broadsword almost broke a rule just then as he swung right for Michael’s face. He was fast enough to block it by holding Eurydike with both hands out in front of him, though even he had to admit his pulse spiked.
“What the fuck?!” Michael spat, throwing him off, “You don’t go for the fucking head!”
“Who said I was going for your head?” Alexander asked and he kicked Michael again square in the chest. It did knock him on his ass and Alexander’s foot pressed into his chest, forcing him on the ground. Michael was heavy breathing through his teeth.
The tip of Alexander’s blade caught the blindfold and the blunt side grazed his nose as he took it off. The light blinded him momentarily, but once he adjusted, he got a good look at this asshole’s face.
And not only was he a good fight who spoke fluent Antarii, but he was the most attractive man Michael had ever fucking seen. They locked eyes and he had the most beautiful brown eyes he’d ever fucking seen, full of mirth as grinned.
“Now, fight me for real and not just a way to show off,” Alexander instructed.
What the hell kind of beast was he?
Michael didn’t waste time, though, as he grabbed Alex’s ankle and threw him off. He made his way to his feet with Eurydike in hand and charged. This time they met beat for beat with much more authenticity, blade clashing against blade, matching each turn and lunge and dodge. They fought. And they fought.
And never had Michael felt more like he’d found his equal than he did then.
He wasn’t sure when it went from being infuriating to exhilarating, but it happened and the fact that there was an entire crowd watching them faded from his mind. It was just them, fighting, matching each other and enjoying it.
“Okay,” Michael said, both of their breaths mingling between them as Alexander stepped closer. Their weapons were crossed between them and he was even more attractive up close. He was sweaty and strong and talented and beautiful and why the fuck did Michael ever go blindfolded, he missed a whole day of watching him fight. “Okay, we could call it a draw.”
“We could,” Alexander said, but he shoved Michael back as if trying to get him on the ground again. It wouldn’t be that easy this time.
“Alexander,” Michael said in response, unable to repress the grin on his face.
“Alex,” Alex corrected, eying him slightly, “Rath.”
“Michael,” Michael corrected.
“Michael,” Alex repeated.
“Alex.”
They stared at each other for a moment before Alex took a careful step back. Michael grinned and took a step back of his own. The more space put between them, the more he became aware of the fact that they were still being watched.
“It’s a draw,” Alex said, pointing his blade at him, “This time.”
“This time,” Michael repeated, nodding because that meant there would be a next time. “Hopefully once more before you return to Earth.”
“Watch your back,” Alex said, looking Michael up and down with those fucking eyes, “I don’t plan to go to sleep tonight as a draw.”
Michael grinned so wide it was probably obvious this wasn’t just a normal fight to anyone around them, this being the first draw in decades aside. He couldn’t wait. Alex was… incredible.
“What the hell was that?!” Isobel and Sheyric both hissed at him once he got back. Michael could barely hear the other noise around them, his eyes still on Alex as he faded back into his people.
Michael could barely even blink.
“I think I’m in love.”