The Sword of Derona
Atta finally nodded, agreeing to Prince Cassius's request to join the Theoms Tournament. But he raised a single condition, his voice sharp and unwavering:
"If Azeon awakens during the tournament, you will evacuate the entire arena before any blood is shed."
Cassius didn't even blink. "Agreed. The tournament begins in one week. I'll submit your name myself. All you have to do is fight."
He turned, light already flickering around him, preparing to vanish. But before he could, Atta's voice cut through the air—serious, almost threatening.
"Prince Cassius… I trust you're not trying to use me as your puppet."
For the first time, Cassius's lips curved into a faint smile. He offered no reply. A pillar of light struck, and in a flash, he was gone.
Atta let out a long breath, tension leaving his shoulders. "Tch…"
---
As he walked back toward class, a familiar voice brushed against his mind like a soft breeze.
"Atta…" Princess Izza's telepathic voice, warm and filled with concern. "I heard everything between you and Cassius. You don't have to go through with this tournament if you don't want to."
Atta wasn't surprised—this wasn't the first time his sister had spoken to him through telepathy. He answered silently in his thoughts as his footsteps echoed through the hall.
"I've already decided, Sister. I'll fight. But… I have one request."
A pause. Then her gentle reply came. "Name it, and it will be done."
Atta stopped walking, staring at the massive canteen doors ahead. His voice in her mind was steady, resolute.
"I want the red blade from our royal vault… the Blade of Derona. The only weapon that ever made Azeon bleed. I want to wield it in the tournament."
For a moment, silence filled his mind. Then Izza's reply came, heavier, more cautious. "…If that's what you wish, it will be done. But remember, Atta—the blade will not respond to you unless you wrap it in your mana."
Atta's eyes hardened, though his lips curved faintly. "Thank you, Sister. I'll be waiting."
---
Pushing open the canteen doors, Atta spotted Princess Isha waiting for him. Her bright smile met his tired one.
"Sorry," Atta said, forcing some warmth into his tone. "Did I keep you waiting?"
Isha shook her head softly. "It's fine. I don't mind."
He sat across from her, gratitude slipping into his voice. "Thank you."
She leaned forward slightly, her smile playful. "You know, there's a tournament coming up. The Theoms Tournament—it happens every year at Saint Athepia."
Atta froze, his heart skipping a beat. He already knew, of course. But hearing it from her lips made his chest tighten.
Then Isha added with a casual smile, "I'm participating this year."
Atta's eyes widened, shock washing over his face.
---
To Be Continued.....