Thalion couldn’t help but chuckle. He had been quite unbearable to be around. “The one person I wanted to see was the one person that never showed up. It was maddening.”
“But I do remember a certain fae warrior who wasn’t afraid to spar with you. When she appeared to fight you, I take it that was the end of the three-year drought?”
He chuckled at the sharp look Thalion sent him.
“You did look like a man deprived of water before she showed up. When you saw her standing there, it was as if the skies had opened up and rained down upon you.”
Thalion’s mind slipped back to that day. The day the skies opened up and indeed brought life back to his dry, desert life.
The clouds rolled in the sky above them, hiding the sun and most of its light as Thalion and many of his warriors gathered around the sparring ring. The air was heavy with the moisture of the rain sure to come, but that heaviness was nothing to what the prince felt in his heart.
Twenty-five years had passed since he’d turned and walked away from the female he loved. Since that time, he’d thought of little else. Her face bombarded his thoughts, his dreams, even his nightmares. Thalion knew she was meant to be his, but waiting for her to come to that realization would be the death of him.He’d been sparring constantly, and though he hadn’t injured anyone seriously, he’d come close. As it was, fewer and fewer warriors were willing to walk into the ring with him. In his current mindset, he would not order anyone to do it. There were none who could match his skill or power on their best day, but he was especially deadly now that thoughts of Cyn consumed him like a plague.
“Duck!” Thalion heard and moved just in time to dodge a blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. He started to stand but had to throw himself to the ground and roll away when another knife came entirely too close to parts of his body he’d preferred not to lose. Thalion continued with the momentum of his body until he was on his feet. His eyes moved quickly around the area, seeking out the fool who would dare attack him without warning. The fool he found was an angry looking fae named Cyn.
Thalion opened his mouth to speak, but her arm was already in motion as another blade suddenly appeared in her hand. She threw it with a speed and accuracy that, frankly, turned him on. Her lips turned up into a smirk, even as her eyes narrowed in anger.
“Prince Thalion.”
Her voice rose above the shocked muttering of the warriors around him. Thalion glanced around quickly and realized that some of them had actually been poised to attack her. Fools. As a fae, she wielded a kind of magic most elves didn’t understand, and she looked just pissed off enough to use it. Apparently she was. She muttered some words and, all of a sudden, none of them could move. They stood frozen, watching Thalion and Cyn battle in front of them.
The fae continued. “I’ve come to ask for some assistance.”
“You have a funny way of asking,” he said coolly as he rested on the balls of his feet, ready to move should she decide to release the next blade.
She shrugged. “I decided maybe I needed to try a new tactic since none of my past attempts have been effective.”
Thalion swung his wrists in circles, the two short swords slicing in the air down by his hips. He was itching for a fight, and fighting his beautiful fae would be even better.
He motioned to the space in front of him. “By all means, beautiful, ask away.” He knew his words and the condescending tone would only anger her more. He was desperate to be closer to her, even if it meant enduring her violence. It worked. She was moving, her graceful, lithe body approaching him slowly, shifting her weight. Then, surging like rushing water, she came at him. The blades were gone, and in their place she held her own pair of short swords. Apparently she preferred to do her work with her adversary up close and personal. Thalion could appreciate that. With a chuckle he began running as well, until they met with a ringing clash in the middle of the ring. Their swords were a blur, practically singing to the heavens as they met time and again. Both elf and fae slashed and parried, over and over, their motions as quick as the lightning that flashed during their first meeting.
After several minutes without the slightest pause in their attacks, Cyn spoke. “I can do this all day. You will tire before me.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Thalion responded. “You might think you know everything about the supernaturals, but you have no idea what we elves are capable of. I can keep up this pace all day and night.” His smug smile was still in place and that seemed to enrage Cyn all the more. Without slowing her sword attacks, she placed a well-aimed kick to Thalion’s midsection. He grunted and jumped back out of sword range, shaking his head at her.
“That wasn’t very sportsmanlike.” He growled.
“Was it sportsmanlike when you walked away from me?” She spat out in return.
“Me? How many times have you turned and walked away from me, Cyn?”
She saw the hurt in his eyes and, for some reason, this made her even angrier. With a primal cry, she charged him again. This time he barely brought his own swords to bear in time to block her. Their swords rang out again. After a few more minutes, however, it was clear that Thalion was better with the weapon. Though she’d claimed she could keep up this pace all day, Cyn’s attacks were starting to slow, albeit almost imperceptibly. Indeed, the watching elves could not detect any weaknesses in Cyn’s attack. Thalion, on the other hand, knew he could best her. And as the fight wore on, he seemed to gain speed rather than tire. In truth, he was merely learning to anticipate Cyn’s maneuvers. He was truly an artist when it came to swordplay, and the elvish weapons he wielded were his paintbrushes. It had now been almost an hour since their fight began. If either of the two combatants had a second to glance around at the watching elves, they would have realized that Cyn had dropped their invisible restraints some time ago. Now the warriors stood watching in awe, transfixed by the beautiful display of swordsmanship in front of them.
Though he was enjoying the battle immensely, Thalion desired more than anything to be alone with Cyn. It had been so long. He needed to touch her, to feel her, to taste her. He couldn’t do that if she had a sword in her hands. Without warning, he smacked the hilt of the sword in his left hand into Cyn’s right wrist. She gasped, and her grip on the blade loosened. In the blink of an eye, Thalion batted the sword out of her hand and sent it flying across the arena. The fae growled and jumped back, squeezing her empty hand tightly.
“You shouldn’t have done that, elf.” The words came out low and deadly.
“Hey, you started this, remember?” Thalion responded.
“And I will end it,” she said, again in a low whisper.
All of sudden, Cyn’s own sword began to glow as she pushed her fae magic into the weapon. Then she whirled it slowly and sparks flew into the air. She rushed forward again, this time bring the sword over her head in a wide arc. Thalion brought both of his swords up over his head, blocking the glowing blade just before it split his head in two. They stared at one another across the swords, grimaces plastered across both of their faces. The three swords were locked in place as their owners struggled. Thalion’s two swords began to glow hot. He could feel the handle’s heat seeping through his gloves. He wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to be able to hold out against Cyn’s strength, which he had apparently grossly underestimated.
“Yield!” Cyn screamed at him, his face a mask of fury.
“Never,” Thalion responded through gritted teeth. “Never. I’ve already told you. I will never stop until you admit that we belong together. Make me wait. I don’t care. Ten years. Twenty years. A thousand years. It doesn’t matter to me. I will always be here.”
Cyn let out a primal scream as she pushed more of her power into her sword. Then with a blinding flash, the sword shattered. Pieces of the blade flew in all directions. The largest hit Thalion in the chest, sending him sprawling backward. The massive outpouring of power left Cyn exhausted and she fell to her bottom, gulping in deep breaths.
