Chakra Wizard
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Chapter 10 - The Prince & the Hero
Upon returning from his match, Ike made his way back into the mess hall, intending to rejoin his fellow Altean natives. To his surprise, however, neither of them were anywhere to be found. Hoping to find their location, he walked over to Fox, who was still conversing with Falco.
"I beg your pardon, Fox, but would you happen to know where Marth and Roy wandered off to?"
Not expecting him to have returned from his match so early, Fox paused shortly before responding.
"Oh, back already? I think they're just having a little walk-and-talk. So, how well did your match go?"
Hearing this, Falco swallowed the food in his mouth and delivered a smart remark to him.
"He won, what're you deaf? Keep your ears perked when they announce that stuff."
"I know he won, moron. I just asked how well he did."
Hearing the bickering between them, Ike simply smirked and shook his head before answering Fox's question.
"It was a challenging test of my skills, but I managed to succeed in the end. Well then, I'll leave for now. Good luck in your coming match, Fox."
The mercenary nodded his head as the swordsman walked away.
"Thanks."
Certainly enough, after a short escapade through the corridor hallways, Ike found himself reunited with his two former comrades. Being as curious about his match as Fox, Marth repeated his question, though he managed to word it better.
"Was your match difficult?"
"Very much so. I pulled through in the end, though. I intend to see the two of you join me in the next round, so I expect you to give it your all as I did."
The two swordsman nodded, with Roy being the one to put his answer in words.
"We will."
The three continued through the halls, speaking of ordeals in their native kingdom, as well as events in the Smash realm. As they spoke, Marth thought about the matches and those to come, speaking aloud after having a realization.
"I've come to think of something. Ike, should one of us be the next to win, the order of the matches would bring us into combat with you tomorrow."
Thinking over it themselves, the other two Altean swordsmen found the truth in this as well, with the younger of the two being the first to speak up.
"Huh, whuddaya know? Well, I guess we can be sure of one thing, Ike."
Having piqued his curiosity, Ike listened.
"And what is that?"
"If my name is the next to be called, you won't make it past the second round."
Roy having incited laughter from all three of them, Ike silenced it shortly afterwards.
"I certainly don't mind who will face me tomorrow, so long as the two of you are there to help me carry Altea's name."
The two nodded at this as the looming question was finally given an answer by Zelda.
"The first day of the tournament is coming to a close with only three matches left to come. The first of these matches will be between...Prince Marth and Roy!"
The three swordsmen exchanged surprised looks with each other, with Marth being the first to break the silence, followed shortly by Roy.
"Well, it seems that any chances we had of joining each other in the next round have been diminished."
"It doesn't change the fact that Ike is fighting me tomorrow."
Managing a smile, Marth then turned to Ike.
"I suppose we'll find you after this is over."
The latter nodded before heading to the mess hall.
"Good luck to you both."
After he was out of sight, the two walked a short distance through the halls, stopping once they were in front of the doors to the arena. As they waited for them to open, Roy looked over to Marth.
"You're not my prince here. I hope you know that, Marth."
Without turning towards him, Marth acknowledged his statement.
"You're right. In the Smash realm, I am your equal, so you have no reason to think that you're fighting your own monarch in our coming match. But,..."
Looking directly into Roy's eyes, he finished his reply.
"...it would be best for you to remember that we are equal only in status here, not in battle prowess. You will not be able to defeat me as easily as you believe."
Grinning in excitement for the epic battle that was to come, Roy turned his gaze forward as the doors finally opened and the two brawlers began walking towards the arena. Taking their places at opposite ends of the stadium, they each placed one hand on the handles of their blades, ready to draw them out once the referee began the match. Silence once again fell over the stadium and the referee came forward to give the signal.
"3, 2, 1, GO!"
Roy was the first to draw his sword, but his speed was hardly any match for that of the prince. Gaining the upper hand early, the first several clashes of their blades were offensive attacks by Marth, but after managing to grab ahold of his wrist and pushing him back, Roy managed to take control. After several more attempts at striking him, Roy lowered the path of his blade in hopes of disabling Marth's legs. Unfortunately, the prince expected this and took the opportunity to leap over him and hold his sword at the back of Roy's neck. Keeping his footing and the grip of his blade steady, he spoke out to his friend about his current condition.
"This is a very dangerous position, Roy. Don't do anything rash. Now, please just drop your sword and we can end the match quickly."
Seeing the truth in his words, Roy realized that he was truly out of options, unless he was to make a risky move. Leaving his sword on the ground and standing ever so slowly, he decided to make one. Curling his right leg around Marth's and bringing his other leg in to break his balance, both of them fell to the ground. Seeing that he was caught off guard, Marth lifted himself up again and moved to strike Roy with his sword, only for it to be stopped in its path by Roy's. Using his slightly superior strength to push Marth away, he used whatever small window of time he had to land a cut on Marth's inner leg. Standing up once they had decent distance between each other, Marth touched his fingers to the newly opened flesh, finding them to be stained with minimal blood when he pulled them away.
"Well, at least it's not deep."
Looking over to Roy, who was now breathing heavily just as he was, he found himself now stricken with worry.
"He's certainly lived up to his promise so far. And he definitely has it in him to completely fulfill it. I'm not about to let him do so easily, though."
Noticing Marth's tightening grip on his blade, Roy adjusted his own grip and then waited for him to make the next move. However, after nearly a minute, Marth still refused to attack first, which pushed Roy to try something different. Positioning his blade behind him and away from Marth, he began building small amounts of energy in his sword and his grip, which continued to grow stronger. Knowing that Marth was waiting for an opening, he gave him one, proceeding to close his eyes. This small window of opportunity was instantly recognized by the prince, who jumped into a high speed assault. While he made sure to keep his eye on Roy's blade, he hardly expected what he was currently doing to increase its potential strength. At least, he didn't for a moment.
"This seems odd. Roy can be childish at times, but he's intelligent enough to keep his eyes peeled while he fights against me. He should no better than to...wait."
Realizing his strategy, Marth attempted to halt his continued advance on Roy, though his speed prevented him from stopping at a safe distance from him. Almost immediately after Marth ceased movement, Roy opened his eyes once again and brought a large grin to his face before lunging his sword forward with such force that a large explosion set off in front of him, engulfing both Marth and himself. The power of his attack, known as the Flare Blade, was hardly of no consequence to Roy, as the strain of building up enough energy for it and the recoil of the resulting explosion left him quite exhausted. This hardly decreased his confidence, however, as Marth would have stood no chance of remaining conscious had he felt the full force of the attack.
"Heh heh...this match is as good as mine. I don't know why the referee would even bother to wait for the smoke to clear. It's obvious that he didn't make it through that in one piece."
The sound of two feet touching the ground behind him caused the color in Roy's face to almost completely disappear. The feeling of his sword being forced out of his hand and another hand holding him beneath his chin got rid of the rest.
"What!? That's impossible! How did he do that!?"
As if he had practically read his mind, Marth gave him a short and simple answer to the questions circling through his thoughts.
"I jumped it."
Surprising Roy even further, he attempted to turn his head, but was stopped short by Marth's blade, which was now being held to his neck.
"You're so full of it. The explosion was far too big to just jump over. Besides, you were right there. You had no time to ju-"
He stopped himself when he remembered that Marth did have a move that could've allowed him to leap over the explosion, let alone at quite a decent speed. The Dolphin Slash, which gave Marth mid-air capabilities, allowed him to move swiftly through the air with a simple upward movement of his blade. Having a similar move of his own, Roy realized that he should have expected it and shut his eyes in anger and disappointment.
"Now, if you don't mind, give the referee the signal and I'll let you go."
Taking a deep breath through his nose, Roy succumbed to the certainty of his defeat, taking one of his hands off of Marth's arm and raising it into the air for the referee to see. Waiting for him to signal back that the match was over, Marth kept his grip on Roy firm until he noticed the referee giving a nod of approval, at which point he pulled back his sword and let go of his opponent. The crowd instantly burst into cheer as they realized that the match was over, followed by the referee making it official.
"Game! The winner is...Marth!"
Returning his own sword to its sheath, Marth walked over to Roy's and gently picked it up by the blade before returning it to its master. After standing up and hesitating for a short moment, Roy smiled before taking it by the handle and placing it within its own sheath, afterwhich he held out his hand to congratulate the victor. Without speaking a word, Marth returned the smile and took his hand into his own. As the two began walking back to the corridors, it became clear to him that despite Roy's confidence prior to the match, he bore no ill will against him for his loss. It seemed that while social statuses and enmities were cast aside in the Smash realm, friendships continued to apply.
