My own brother... the boy I was watching grow up... standing right in front of me, holding a weapon.

Where did he get it from?

Bovin was never a fighter, neither owning weapon nor armor.

And that pestering woman in the crowd who was still yet yelling at him.

"Who is that woman? She who is giving you commands?" I asked him.

"It's either very complicated or not at all. All I know is that she is mad," he answered, as it has always been he was lacking self-confidence.

His heart was not in this fight, but that did not mean that mine was not.

I will do as tradition demands.

I sheathed one of my swords, "I will not be needing two. One strike and it'll be over. Can you last two, brother? I hope you will not disappoint."

I struck a combat pose, giving him a second to prepare.

He fidgeted around, unsure what to do.

I lunged, slashed in his direction, and with a smooth motion, I sheathed my remaining blade.

Turning around he was still standing, though motionless.

It took him a second to realize what had happened and in a surprised tone he exclaimed, "I'm still alive!"

"Come now, you didn't think I would kill my own brother this heartlessly?" I asked, repressing a chuckle, "I will wait until you at least get your weapon out of its sheath."

"BOVIN, YOUR BROTHER IS AN ASS," the loud woman exclaimed.

"It was not I who had brought him to this arena. It cannot be my fault for trying to fight him," I yelled back at her.

Bovin whispered into the air, "It's hers."

"Brother," I yelled, trying him to focus on me, "I will give you one chance, just one. I will wait until you ready yourself then I will attack, this time there will be no mercy. Do you understand?"

This time I held both swords in my hands.

Slowly and unsure of himself he unsheathed his sword.

It was a beautiful dark blade with a white grip adorned with gold marking, flowing with radiant energy.

He held it shakily with a weak grip that was unworthy for a blade of its kind.

"Prepare," I said a last time.

I held out both swords and dust flew up all around me, the air turned to sparks and the ground to glass.

[Storm's Path]