The Crown Prince

The sounds of steel on steel and yelling men ring through the castle yard. The midday sun shines down on you, your doublet heavy on you from exertion and the sweat soaking through it.

You grit your teeth as you strain to deflect the blows raining on you. The warrior before you isn't even breathing heavily and he's nearly driven you into a corner, an amused smirk on his face. You parry a careless swing, tossing the warriors arm wide, only for him to deliver a devastating punch to your gut with his free hand. You get tossed back a solid foot backwards and struggle to remain upright, gasping for air.

"Is this really all you can manage princeling?" The warrior asks, his soft voice belying the deeds you know he's done. The warrior lowers his blade as if you aren't even a threat, looking off to the castle walls. "Perhaps my time would be better spent going after your sister...?"

You grip your broadsword tighter, your opponent knows exactly how to needle you, tempting you to take rash action. You take a deep breath and change your stance, readying yourself to take the offensive. You take a step forward and the warrior's blade swings at your neck, barely giving you enough time to catch it with your shield and leaving your arm numb. The warrior sidesteps your thrust and you deflect his downward swing, stepping closer into his range. "Bold," He grunts, and suddenly you find yourself falling backwards, the telltale tingling in your extremities informing you of the warriors magic too late to do anything. You swing your blade upwards, slicing through only air.

You hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of you. The warrior kicks your sword from your hand and steps on your shield, painfully pinning your only manner of protecting yourself from him to the ground. The man brushes blonde strands from his face and looks down at you without mercy, blocking the sun from your view. The warrior raises his blade and speaks, "It's over." The silver sword swings down at your neck, a blur in the air.