Shadows Over Arcadia Chapter 64: 63. The Dragon God Tournament

Read chapter 64 of Shadows Over Arcadia by Zacheas on NovelPedia.

I am Charles Drakemore, age 10, crown prince of the Kingdom of Arcadia, and one day I will be King. https://shadowsoverarcadia.com/api/storage/objects/uploads/5b4e99f4-60a4-4b24-b11f-f515e9b4c89b Clack! The vicious clash of wood stabs my ears. A sharp sting shoots through my wrist as my weapon is knocked aside, followed immediately by my instructor’s wooden sword slamming into my right bicep. My grip loosens as I stumble and wince, my arm tender from the dozens of strikes it has already taken. My training blade clatters against the stone ground of the castle courtyard, the sound echoing between the walls. I grit my teeth and glare at my tormentor, Sir Wyatt, wishing with every ounce of my soul to return his punishment tenfold. I am not sure what is worse. Enduring hours day after day of this man striking me with a wooden rod, his damn calm expression like he is not even trying, or listening to him aggravatingly repeat the same critiques of my form again and again. No, what is worse on this particular day is that this senseless exercise is happening on the day of the annual Dragon God Tournament. It’s the biggest event of the year; people have been flooding into the city for days. The inns are full, nobles’ estates are crammed with visiting kin, and even our castle is crowded with relatives. The capital feels ready to burst, with thousands of travelers camping in rings of tents outside the walls. Knights and mages from across the kingdom will compete in public duels for riches and glory. Victory guarantees status and wealth, and the audience is promised an impressive and bloody spectacle. But here I am, stuck getting beaten with a stick. It starts in less than an hour. If I could only slip away. “Mind your balance and your structure,” Sir Wyatt says calmly. Behind him, the blue and gold banners hanging from the castle ramparts ripple in a gentle breeze. “How about I whack your sword arm a hundred times and see how balanced you are,” I mutter, bending down to retrieve my weapon. “Not taking licks is your reward for practicing the fundamentals,” Wyatt says coldly. “Fundamentals,” I repeat mockingly as I massage my aching arm. “You’re an adult and I’m ten. It’s not a fair fight. You’re just stronger than me.” “The longsword is a finesse weapon,” Wyatt says, leveling his wooden sword toward me again. “Technique and precision are what spare your arm a sting in training and your life on the battlefield.” I groan and roll my eyes. “Maybe I’d learn more by watching some real combat,” I mutter. Then I perk up, feigning sudden inspiration. “Hey, the tournament—” “Not a chance,” Wyatt cuts in immediately. “Why? My father is there!” I protest. “The King presides over the competition. He has to be there,” Wyatt explains, gesturing for me to raise my sword. “And he is far more concerned with you training so that you can compete someday, rather than wasting your time watching others do it.” “You don’t know anything! Why should I listen to you?” I spit, eyeing him with disdain. “You’re a horrible instructor. You aren’t teaching me anything!” “You have been taught by four instructors over the last four years and still haven’t mastered the basic fundamentals, my prince,” Wyatt says with a raised brow and a maddeningly judgmental air. “Perhaps it is not my instruction, but your lack of willingness to learn.” “How dare you!” I snap back, heat rushing to my face, my fists balled. How dare this lowborn, worthless brute speak to me that way. How dare he think himself superior to me? “Watch your tongue, or my father will have you hung by the neck!” Sir Wyatt lowers his sword with an exasperated sigh that only makes my blood boil further. He should be afraid. He should apologize and beg at my feet for his life, not look at me like I’m the one wasting his time. “I served in the army with your father, son,” Wyatt says calmly. And… is that pity in his eyes? “And?” “And your father is a powerful man, and I owe him my life many times over,” Wyatt answers. “