My foot goes to Lark's stomach pushing him back. The male falls to the ground with an oomph before commencing his series of unbreakable whines.

I laugh wholeheartedly walking over to him and leaning on my knees, great sword in its sheath.

"I thought we were sparring, Tamen."

"We are sparring," I reply with a cheeky grin on my lips, and a hand offered to the other.

"A kick to the groin isn't sparring."

"I did not hit your groin, Lark." He grabs my hand and uses my shoulder as support once standing.

"Gods," he lifts his shirt exposing a red mark. His honey gaze turns sharp and lands on me, "Tamen it will bruise!"

I shrug begging my smile not to widen, "You said you'd help me." I pick up his fallen sword and hand it to him, "Are you sure you're the Ser Rodrick's squire."

My friend's gaze only glowers, and his sword once again points at me.

I unsheathe my own once more and allow my left foot to lead. The wind blows causing the slightest of chimes to be released by my sword before Lark moves forward with a strike from above. I move away dodging the oberhau bringing my blade down on his with pressure. I thrust forward. The tip of my blade rests beside a curly brown lock, and my gaze follows a sweat bead down his temple.

Our gazes lock as we both wait, he debates.

I've won, but Lark is fast and can always find a way to turn the tables even after the battle has ended.

"Boys," The approaching Ser Rodrick's voice barely cuts through the tension, and he is forced to call for us once more. "Lark, Tamen!"

"Yes, my Lord." We respond, brown gaze still dancing with honey.

"Part."

We do so smiling, and Lark falls to the ground heaving. I stand straight greeting Ser Rodrick with a slight bow.

The man stares at his squire shaking his head, "You can't even greet me properly can you, Boy?"

Lark allows his arms to support him, and he winks at his lord, and the man tries to hide it, but the blush doesn't escape me. I smile at the two lovers.

"You two fought well." I look behind me at the sound of the voice, and Ser Willis approaches. I merely nod at the man.

"By your attitude, I take that you still want to fight, Tamen." Ser Rodrick drawls his sentence in discomfort. "I heard from the others." He glances at Lark, who returns his stare with a guilty smile.

The male stands and goes next to his knight. "Spare me, he's a mule," I catch my friend whisper to his lover.

"All is well Rodrick," a strong and firm hand lands on my shoulder, "I raised the boy, I don't mind sparring with him."

My eyes widen, and I turn on my heel to face Ser Willis, "Are you speaking the truth?"

"I am left with no choice. I raised you; I should know better."

"And if I win you are keeping your end of the deal?"

"If you win Tamen, if."

"You're giving in to the boy Willis?" Ser Corstel approaches along with Ser Rae.

Ser Willis smiles and nods, "What can I say, I spoil him."

Ser Rae laughs, "Not as much as Rodrick does to Lark."

"I'd appreciate if everyone would stop commenting on my life choices," Ser Rodrick states firmly, and the other men find it amusing as they do everything.

"So Tamen, let's begin."

We move away from the men. Even though all four are awake, the other guests in the Inn seem to be still inactive giving me plenty of space to defeat the man before me.

We allow space between us and I unsheathe my sword, as always with my right foot back and left foot leading. I am filled with confidence as I follow his every move, but as he frees his longsword, my heart begins to scream the opposite of my stance. So much so that I am starting to fear he can hear my heart blaring.

"You alright, Tamen? You seem pale."

"I am fine. I did not expect you to use Nieve."

"Well, you want this sword. The only way you can earn it is by defeating it."

I take a deep breath, let it out, and ignore Ser Corstel and Ser Rae's chuckles.

I'm going to defeat you no matter what, Ser Willis.

We stare at one another. Unlike with Lark, my gaze routinely shifts to every portion of the man's body, taking in his stance and any possible move he can make. The tense air causes me to grip my sword tighter, and I ask my muscles to relax.

"Gentlemen I believe the purpose of this is for you to fi-" Ser Rae's words are lost by the sound of my sword landing on Willis'. The man easily deflects my blow, as his grip is firm and it guides my sword skyward.

As soon as I watch his hands turn in a circular motion, I read his movement and add more pressure to my blade, forcing his sword down between us and kicking him just above his groin.

Ser Willis stumbles back and shakes his head, smiling, "Did you want to hit my balls so badly that you would risk your leg? With that force, my sword could have easily sliced it clean."

I ignore his words as we circle each other. The men around us are no longer laughing, but, then again, I'm not sure with my senses focused on the man in front of me.

"Stay focused!"

My stance falters with my shaking heart as Ser Willis brings his blade down on mine. The pressure threatens the grip on my sword. My knuckles ache as I deflect his sword to avoid exposure and move away from his point.

The man does not falter.

With a smooth motion, he turns his blade towards me again, leaving me little room to react. Doing my best to protect myself I block the blow with the edge of my sword, pommel face up and point down in an awkward position.

"Sloppy, sloppy."

My jaw clenches as I get irritated by his words.

I drag my sword across his–allowing my blade to nearly slide off–before turning my wrist in a half-circle motion. My blade rises over his, and I attempt a thrust.

He cuts it off by deflecting my blow while spinning. The predatory circle commences once again.

"Nice cleanup."

"If you continue to flap your mouth a fly might land in it."

He laughs, "Tamen, you are the best squire."

I stand still with a deep breath filling my lungs and being released, my feet grounded and my grip steady. I wanted to be a knight, so I must take a stand.

"Very well," he states, stopping himself, "let's end this."

He charges, his pace fast, and just as quick a memory hits me. One not so distant and yet so intangible that the feelings I used to hold for it are unrecognizable.

"When facing a quicker foe turn to the false side of the blade; mimic the opponent's movements. If you see a chance to mimic the movement of a zwerchau, allow your blade to fall on top of the opponent's and thrust while making sure you're protected."

The movement was the nach, where I attack after they make their move. I am great when going against someone my size, but fail when it is against Willis due to our height difference.

"You're thinking too much, Tamen." I feel an elbow dig into my chest and cough, sidestepping his next blow. I continue to dodge his swings, analyzing if my plan will work before waiting for the right moment to come.

Ser Willis continues to thrust, his patterns changing each time as if testing me against each sword launch style. Nieve is risen to the sky, and the man's height is truly shown as his shadow looms over me.

I deflect his blow, turning my sword to the false side of my blade. Immediately the man recuperates and tilts his sword to its true edge–a zwerchau.

My heartbeat accelerates with excitement. My nerves vanish as I mimic the zwerchau movement. My eyes catch only a glimpse of Ser Willis' smirk; the memories of my failures probably coursing through his mind. Believing he can read my move he tilts his sword up as if mine were above it and pushes down when instead it is underneath his own. His motion assists me in elevating his sword. Immediately I slide between his legs and tilt my blade to its false end, sliding it along his leg. I quickly rise and rest the tip of my sword on Ser Willis' back.

The man stands still, and my chest heaves painfully. It is now that I notice the aches in my arms and the heavy drops of sweat that cling to my body. My hands beg to tremble, but I tighten my grip on the hilt.

"You've... won." I hear Lark's voice, "Tamen, you won!" The second yell pulls me out of my daze, and a smile invades my face. I feel my friend's arm around my shoulders swaying me as he jumps.

The painful ache in my lungs suddenly feels like pure pleasure. My gaze turns to where the men are and blink when I see none. "Where did the knights go?"

Lark looks toward the inn, "Ser Rae was called for by the innkeeper. Ser Corstel said something about having better things to do. Ser Rodrick received a message from Falan. You were lost in the fight. You didn't even hear me say stop when I thought you were going to lose."

"No matter," with a shake of my head I turn to my equal and kneel before him on one knee. I look down waiting.

I watch his boots shuffle in the grass facing me, but his sword never touches my shoulders.

"Stand Tamen."

With my head tilting up my brows furrow as I look up at him, "Pardon?"

Ser Willis smiles down at me beamingly, "You have made me proud. You fought well, but it is time to stop playing games. There's a lord that needs our help in the south and the money has been paid."

No word exchange takes place as I stare. "Pardon," I settle for again.

The man laughs, "You're pardoned then if that's what you're asking for."

My confused gaze becomes a glare instead as I rise. "What are you aiming for Willis, we had a deal."

"One I made when I was not in my right mind, Tamen. Yes, you defeated me, once may I add. You are not ready to be a knight, and that is final."

"I'll be damned," Lark whispers beside me.

"You gave your word I don't care how much ale you had," I growl.

"I am the only one who has a say on whether you become knighted Tamen, and I am saying no. If all you wanted to do was play with my sword I'll let you practice with it from now on, that I can settle for. You are not ready to be a knight though."

"I'm not ready," my voice rises in question, "more so you're not qualified to be one."

My gaze catches a glimpse of Lark leaving us.

"This is the end of this discussion, Tamen. I have played enough with you."

"I defeated you, Willis."

"Once Tamen!"

"If it had been a real battle you would have lost your leg and then your life!"

The man approaches his speed once again shown as he stands right before me in mere seconds. His hand goes for the front of my blouse, and he scrunches it bringing me forward, "You, are nothing but a squire, whether your egotistic brain likes it or not. I do not care if you defeat me twenty or a billion times; you are not even close to being a knight Tamen of Skyland.

I spit in his face.

He releases me with a hard shove and wipes his face. Instead of becoming angrier that damn smile takes over his face once more, "Get the horses Squire of Grounds. We're leaving soon."