The Jewel of the Five Kingdoms

James Raymond Elliot

  In the time I drifted between consciousness, my memory of the battle burned like a fire in my mind.

  The rain distorted my vision as I faced General Franny of the Waterwalkers on a rocky cliff alone. My army battled below us, and I realize too late the General had wanted to separate me from them. He was waiting to get me alone.

  In the moonlight, his white hair reflected shades of grays and purples, the same color as his violet eyes. He was the perfect description of the average Waterwalker. The typical light features with striking violet eyes that seemed to glow against their fair skin.

  His deadly steal sword glittered in the moonlight, polished and sharped. Franny slicked back his wet locks that plastered to his forehead, his expression boarding madness. I shivered for reasons other than the chilling ran.

  "I give it to you, Prince James, you are a better swordsman than I expected," he says as he advances on me, that crazed light danced in his eyes and his movements cornered me as a predator would a prey right before the kill.

  I found it in myself to smile confidently, my perfect smile that has always been the exceptional mask, even as my feet came closer and closer to the edge.

Battle rule #1: Never let your opponent know how much he scares you.

"Funny, I can't say the same about you," I say with a laugh as we both lunge into action.

Battle rule #2: Don't laugh too long at your own joke because they will take the chase to chop off several of your limbs.

  Our swords meet with a clang that reminded me of a crack of lightning, and I sidestep. The General stumbles forward but catches himself and spins before I can gain the upper hand. I deflect, advancing for a strike but he curls his blade and nicks the top of my shoulder.

  My arm immediately flares with pain, and I grit my teeth to keep from crying out and giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much pain he caused. I realize his sword is tipped with poison, a fact I wish I could have known earlier.

  I try not to focus on the pain, it wasn't enough to kill me anyways. Just, you know, an average amount of deadly poison.

  Our swords clash again, but this time mine finds its mark. My sword rips across his face, starting at his scalp line and finishing at the bottom of his shirt collar all down the left side of his face.

He screams and I clench my jaw against the skies awful sound. The moment the wound touched air it begins to bleed, and the rain water sends it rushing down his face and onto his armor.

He lunged, jabbing towards me savagely, and I jump back just in time to see his sword swipe uselessly through the air.

Only two steps and I will fall.

He's grinning now, and the blood from his face wound has leaked over his lips into his mouth. His teeth are stained pink, making my stomach toss nauseously. The air smells like thunderstorms and his copper blood.

He jabs again and I jump back.

One step.

The pain from my shoulder makes my upper body ache, and I deflect his side strike with a weak uppercut. My arm flares in pain, but I fight though it. I spin, shredding the side of his trousers and he howls. I must have cut to skin. Franny fakes towards my head and as I go to deflect he swings around, his freshly sharpened sword cutting into my left ankle with such force I almost blacked out immediately. I prayed I had imagined the sound of my bone cracking, or the hot drip and pool of red that was suddenly around my feet. My leg screamed in protest of my weight against it, and I fought back a wave of nausea.