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Description
The sound of clashing bamboo sticks echoed across the arena as two competitors fought for the right to be named "the winner". The swordsmen trainee's danced in a flurry of movements striking then jumping away and finally colliding in a series of attacks. Ryan, a chocolate skinned boy fought with skill and speed, dancing and swiveling along with his opponent, he had slightly pale hair and mildly muscular arms. His eyes dazzled with a deep crimson red hue which outlined his skin tone, just looking into them you could tell the boy had worked for years but lived a full, disciplined and healthy life amongst his rich or wealthy peers. He fought with a grimace and scowl trying to remember everything he had learned in the past three years training under his mentor and not wanting to lose the battle. His competitor, a much taller and muscular, peach skinned boy with blue eyes, fought with a crazed look upon his face, striking wildly but with precision and great force. It was all Ryan could do to block such attacks being the smaller of the two; his only advantage was his size and knowledge. He moved and just nearly repelled the attacks sending his attacker stumbling backwards.

The fight continued onwards, neither of the boys wanting to give into defeat. The sun bathed arena was now filled with the cheers of spectators along the upper ridges of the metal caged arena, who had already placed bets on the boys to see whom would win. After nearly five minutes of fighting, Cal; his opponent, jerked his bamboo sword up over his head and swung it downwards, it fell three feet before Ryan repelled it with enough force to make his body vibrate viciously and to cause Cal to violently stumble backwards on a toe, waving his sword blindly in the air. This is my chance. He thought and in a flurry he jumped into the air and gained nearly seven feet over his opponent, where he hung for just a fraction of a second and quickly descended with his sword pulled to the side. Cal, looked up at him in astonishment and awe forgetting where he was at the moment, and when he realized his position, it was too late for him to react. Ryan whipped his rod around, making contact with his opponents temple. A deep thump echoed through the crowd as everyone gasped at the outcome of the battle and Ryan's signature move. The silence lasted only for an instant before most of the spectators erupted in cheer, waving around slips of paper showing that they had won the bet. Ryan smiled and looked around at everyone in the crowd, realizing he had actually won such a match. He raised his bamboo rod in the air, which fueled more roars from the crowd. A groan from below him caused Ryan to turn around and look down at his opponent cowering in the dirt, holding his blackening eye. Anger and pain swept across Cal's face as he got to his feet and fled to a door built into the side of the metal arena. Ryan moved away also, he headed to the door he had emerged from at the beginning of the match, which stood open for him already. A guard stood to the side securing the area for the Champion.

Inside the door, Ryan walked lonely down a pitch black corridor, the only light came from the open arena behind him and a faint flash farther down the corridor. Ryan headed straight for the light making it his sole objective, he knew his loved ones awaited him there and were ready to congratulate him on his victory. He broke into a sprint as thoughts of what was to come rushed through his head. I wonder what Ma' will say. Will she be as excited and happy as I? Of course she'll be. What about Alvis, his mentor, will he be proud of my skills or will he think I need improvement and make me train more? Hopefully I can graduate after all my work these past years. He thought as he neared the door which held the small flicker of light, which turned out to be held by a candle.

After nearly a minute Ryan emerged into an underground half wooden and dirt built room, which resembled a bunker. A staircase was built into the wall opposite of him and a wooden desk to the left in front of it. Wooden chairs were placed around the room along with a medical kit and a metal framed bed in a corner beside the arena entrance, that Ryan had come from. Sitting on one of the chairs was an old lady with many wrinkles and a pale white face, the lady wore a small pair of circular glasses which were perched on her sharp and long nose, a mop of gray hair sat atop her head which matched her now gray eyes. She wore a faded pink dress with a gold necklaces hanging from her neck, clasped in her hand was a dusty brown book which she recorded things into; the book was deeply mysterious to Ryan, for he had never been allowed to look into it, and whenever he had, the cover seemed to weight a hundred pounds and he had been unable to open it.

At the sight of her grandson, the lady jumped to her feet and began cooing with joy at the boy's victory. She skittered toward him with great speed and the two clasped each other in a tight and humble hug, Hm she smells like peaches today. Not even the old odor in here can mask her scent. Ryan thought releasing his grandma. Tears rolled down her eyes and many wrinkles, Ryan smiled waiting patiently for her to take everything in. With a final intake of air she spoke, her voice shaky but elegant and smooth, "I just knew you would make it, your father was such a great fighter, and I'm not surprised you inherited such a skill." She clasped her hands together as if she was beginning to pray, but instead continued smiling at the boy. Ryan was a little taken aback by the mention of his father whom he had never known along with his mother. From what little information his grandmother gave him, his parents had a forbidden love which was not accepted amongst the world and after years of being married they had committed the ultimate conspiracy and gave birth to Ryan, which resulted in their exile. Fifteen years later, here Ryan was standing before his grandmother. He pushed the subject out of his head as his grandmother began to interrogate him, "How was the battle?", "Were you scared.", that was a mighty jump you pulled off, got that from your mother.", "Now you are good enough to travel outside of the country, little one." Once the words were uttered a pint of anger welled up inside Ryan as he rolled his eyes and sucked his lips.

"Ma' I told you before, I'm not going on some crazy adventure out of the country. I want to join the Kings Council of Five and become the sixth and youngest edition. Help Govern this land and expand across our world. Why can't you seem to accept that?" He could not control his volume and he realized he had begun to shout. His grandmother looked taken aback and placed her hand over her heart and shook her head. Such movements irritated Ryan greatly. He crossed his arms knowing what the lady was about to say.

"What have I told you about that Ryan? There is no way you can join those-those-those people! You can do anything except that." She shook a long finger at him as she spoke, but before Ryan could respond a shadowy figure moved inside of the staircase behind his grandmother. Gripping his bamboo stick tightly and trying to distinguish the figure in the shadows he moved away from his grandmother who had taken notice and was gripping something in the folds of her dress.

A man with a triangular face and clean cut black beard stepped out of the shadows, he was tan and had dark eyes which bore into Ryan's grandmother with great accusation, a sword hung on his belt and he was dressed in a navy blue leather tunic, with brown leather pants. He had smooth hair which fell from his head and hung just over his eyes, it was black just like his eyes and his beard. He approached and with each step his neatly defined muscles rippled across his body, his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. A wicked smile curved across his face as he stepped towards Ryan's grandmother, "I come in peace, Madeline, and don't attack me, if you value your life. Ha, why what could an old hag like yourself have under those folds that could possibly harm me?" He uttered the words so quietly Ryan could barely hear, but once he finished speaking, Ryan's grandmother named Madeline, rested her hand by her side and walked away an embarrassed and secretive look upon her face.

After she returned to her seat the man turned to Ryan who wore a bright smile upon his face. "I saw your match. You did quite well, and that move was played out perfectly too. Ha! I bet that boy won't look forward to the next time you two are meant to meet. It seems I have trained you well." The man placed a hand on Ryan's head; he stood at six feet tall, a foot taller than his apprentice.

Happy and proud to be acknowledged Ryan laughed and explained, "I won't look forward to it either. His attacks were surprisingly strong and it took all I had to deflect them." His mentor laughed with a hint of sarcasm and irony which Ryan didn't notice. He took his hand off his head and backed off Ryan analyzing the bruises he had acquired during the fight. "They don't even hurt, that's how much I've grown." He pitched in.

A scowl spread across his mentors face as he heard what Ryan had to say, "Well, you better soak them tonight, we'll be pretty busy tomorrow, you'll be having your test and if you pass, your assessments and then your own sword. Then you may just be able to qualify for that position on the Council of Five." He turned away giving a sly look to Madeline, who cursed under her breath and muttered a few words that Ryan's mentor had not heard. But Ryan had, and wondered why his grandmother believed the Council would only want to kill him.

Description
The sound of clashing bamboo sticks echoed across the arena as two competitors fought for the right to be named "the winner". The swordsmen trainee's danced in a flurry of movements striking then jumping away and finally colliding in a series of attacks. Ryan, a chocolate skinned boy fought with skill and speed, dancing and swiveling along with his opponent, he had slightly pale hair and mildly muscular arms. His eyes dazzled with a deep crimson red hue which outlined his skin tone, just looking into them you could tell the boy had worked for years but lived a full, disciplined and healthy life amongst his rich or wealthy peers. He fought with a grimace and scowl trying to remember everything he had learned in the past three years training under his mentor and not wanting to lose the battle. His competitor, a much taller and muscular, peach skinned boy with blue eyes, fought with a crazed look upon his face, striking wildly but with precision and great force. It was all Ryan could do to block such attacks being the smaller of the two; his only advantage was his size and knowledge. He moved and just nearly repelled the attacks sending his attacker stumbling backwards.

The fight continued onwards, neither of the boys wanting to give into defeat. The sun bathed arena was now filled with the cheers of spectators along the upper ridges of the metal caged arena, who had already placed bets on the boys to see whom would win. After nearly five minutes of fighting, Cal; his opponent, jerked his bamboo sword up over his head and swung it downwards, it fell three feet before Ryan repelled it with enough force to make his body vibrate viciously and to cause Cal to violently stumble backwards on a toe, waving his sword blindly in the air. This is my chance. He thought and in a flurry he jumped into the air and gained nearly seven feet over his opponent, where he hung for just a fraction of a second and quickly descended with his sword pulled to the side. Cal, looked up at him in astonishment and awe forgetting where he was at the moment, and when he realized his position, it was too late for him to react. Ryan whipped his rod around, making contact with his opponents temple. A deep thump echoed through the crowd as everyone gasped at the outcome of the battle and Ryan's signature move. The silence lasted only for an instant before most of the spectators erupted in cheer, waving around slips of paper showing that they had won the bet. Ryan smiled and looked around at everyone in the crowd, realizing he had actually won such a match. He raised his bamboo rod in the air, which fueled more roars from the crowd. A groan from below him caused Ryan to turn around and look down at his opponent cowering in the dirt, holding his blackening eye. Anger and pain swept across Cal's face as he got to his feet and fled to a door built into the side of the metal arena. Ryan moved away also, he headed to the door he had emerged from at the beginning of the match, which stood open for him already. A guard stood to the side securing the area for the Champion.

Inside the door, Ryan walked lonely down a pitch black corridor, the only light came from the open arena behind him and a faint flash farther down the corridor. Ryan headed straight for the light making it his sole objective, he knew his loved ones awaited him there and were ready to congratulate him on his victory. He broke into a sprint as thoughts of what was to come rushed through his head. I wonder what Ma' will say. Will she be as excited and happy as I? Of course she'll be. What about Alvis, his mentor, will he be proud of my skills or will he think I need improvement and make me train more? Hopefully I can graduate after all my work these past years. He thought as he neared the door which held the small flicker of light, which turned out to be held by a candle.

After nearly a minute Ryan emerged into an underground half wooden and dirt built room, which resembled a bunker. A staircase was built into the wall opposite of him and a wooden desk to the left in front of it. Wooden chairs were placed around the room along with a medical kit and a metal framed bed in a corner beside the arena entrance, that Ryan had come from. Sitting on one of the chairs was an old lady with many wrinkles and a pale white face, the lady wore a small pair of circular glasses which were perched on her sharp and long nose, a mop of gray hair sat atop her head which matched her now gray eyes. She wore a faded pink dress with a gold necklaces hanging from her neck, clasped in her hand was a dusty brown book which she recorded things into; the book was deeply mysterious to Ryan, for he had never been allowed to look into it, and whenever he had, the cover seemed to weight a hundred pounds and he had been unable to open it.

At the sight of her grandson, the lady jumped to her feet and began cooing with joy at the boy's victory. She skittered toward him with great speed and the two clasped each other in a tight and humble hug, Hm she smells like peaches today. Not even the old odor in here can mask her scent. Ryan thought releasing his grandma. Tears rolled down her eyes and many wrinkles, Ryan smiled waiting patiently for her to take everything in. With a final intake of air she spoke, her voice shaky but elegant and smooth, "I just knew you would make it, your father was such a great fighter, and I'm not surprised you inherited such a skill." She clasped her hands together as if she was beginning to pray, but instead continued smiling at the boy. Ryan was a little taken aback by the mention of his father whom he had never known along with his mother. From what little information his grandmother gave him, his parents had a forbidden love which was not accepted amongst the world and after years of being married they had committed the ultimate conspiracy and gave birth to Ryan, which resulted in their exile. Fifteen years later, here Ryan was standing before his grandmother. He pushed the subject out of his head as his grandmother began to interrogate him, "How was the battle?", "Were you scared.", that was a mighty jump you pulled off, got that from your mother.", "Now you are good enough to travel outside of the country, little one." Once the words were uttered a pint of anger welled up inside Ryan as he rolled his eyes and sucked his lips.

"Ma' I told you before, I'm not going on some crazy adventure out of the country. I want to join the Kings Council of Five and become the sixth and youngest edition. Help Govern this land and expand across our world. Why can't you seem to accept that?" He could not control his volume and he realized he had begun to shout. His grandmother looked taken aback and placed her hand over her heart and shook her head. Such movements irritated Ryan greatly. He crossed his arms knowing what the lady was about to say.

"What have I told you about that Ryan? There is no way you can join those-those-those people! You can do anything except that." She shook a long finger at him as she spoke, but before Ryan could respond a shadowy figure moved inside of the staircase behind his grandmother. Gripping his bamboo stick tightly and trying to distinguish the figure in the shadows he moved away from his grandmother who had taken notice and was gripping something in the folds of her dress.

A man with a triangular face and clean cut black beard stepped out of the shadows, he was tan and had dark eyes which bore into Ryan's grandmother with great accusation, a sword hung on his belt and he was dressed in a navy blue leather tunic, with brown leather pants. He had smooth hair which fell from his head and hung just over his eyes, it was black just like his eyes and his beard. He approached and with each step his neatly defined muscles rippled across his body, his hand rested on the hilt of his sword. A wicked smile curved across his face as he stepped towards Ryan's grandmother, "I come in peace, Madeline, and don't attack me, if you value your life. Ha, why what could an old hag like yourself have under those folds that could possibly harm me?" He uttered the words so quietly Ryan could barely hear, but once he finished speaking, Ryan's grandmother named Madeline, rested her hand by her side and walked away an embarrassed and secretive look upon her face.

After she returned to her seat the man turned to Ryan who wore a bright smile upon his face. "I saw your match. You did quite well, and that move was played out perfectly too. Ha! I bet that boy won't look forward to the next time you two are meant to meet. It seems I have trained you well." The man placed a hand on Ryan's head; he stood at six feet tall, a foot taller than his apprentice.

Happy and proud to be acknowledged Ryan laughed and explained, "I won't look forward to it either. His attacks were surprisingly strong and it took all I had to deflect them." His mentor laughed with a hint of sarcasm and irony which Ryan didn't notice. He took his hand off his head and backed off Ryan analyzing the bruises he had acquired during the fight. "They don't even hurt, that's how much I've grown." He pitched in.

A scowl spread across his mentors face as he heard what Ryan had to say, "Well, you better soak them tonight, we'll be pretty busy tomorrow, you'll be having your test and if you pass, your assessments and then your own sword. Then you may just be able to qualify for that position on the Council of Five." He turned away giving a sly look to Madeline, who cursed under her breath and muttered a few words that Ryan's mentor had not heard. But Ryan had, and wondered why his grandmother believed the Council would only want to kill him.