Chapter 14 - The Trial of the Arena
The royal training arena, a massive sunken courtyard enclosed by high stone walls, was packed to the absolute brim. Nobles, commoners, and rebel fighters crowded the stone balconies, holding their breath as the morning mist slowly burned away under the rising sun.
Duke Caelen stood in the center of the sand-strewn yard, wearing heavy plate armor that gleamed like dull silver. Beside him stood his champion—a massive, scarred mercenary from the southern wastes named Vrog, holding a massive two-handed battleaxe that looked heavy enough to split a warhorse in two.
When the iron gates groaned open and Queen Valeria stepped into the sunlight, a collective gasp rose from the crowd.
She wore no heavy velvet robes, no cumbersome crown of gold. Instead, she was dressed in fitted leather fighting leathers, her dark hair pulled back in a tight braid, and her father's broadsword strapped securely to her hip. The ancient crown rested firmly upon her brow, its sapphire glyphs glowing with a steady, pulsing radiance that cut through the morning haze.
"You fight the champion, little girl!" Caelen shouted from the sidelines with a mocking laugh. "Or did your courage run out at the last second?"
Valeria did not answer with words. She walked smoothly to the center of the arena, stopping ten paces away from the towering mercenary. Vrog grinned, revealing a row of jagged yellow teeth, and slammed his heavy battleaxe into the dirt, sending a spray of sand into the air.
"Yield now, little bird," Vrog grunted, his voice like grinding stones. "And I’ll make the swing quick."
Valeria’s hand drifted slowly to the hilt of her sword. With a crisp, metallic hiss, she drew the blade, the steel catching the sunlight and throwing a blinding arc of light across the arena.
May you like
"Begin!" the herald shouted from the upper balcony.
Vrog roared, charging forward with terrifying speed, his massive axe whistling through the air as he brought it down in a brutal overhead arc meant to split Valeria in two.
