Chief Pantera was impressed by the steel she saw in Eirwen’s amber gaze. “So be it.”

Eirwen, Petra, Tinker, Joan, Michelle, the Lost Girls, Tiger, and a small group of Indians traveled through the forest to an open-air coliseum. Or at least, the grass covered ruins appeared to be what was left of what was probably at one time a very impressive fighting arena. Word of such events spread quickly in Neverland, mostly due to gossipy flowers, and the tiered stone seats were quickly filled with Indians and Lost Girls.

This is how Eirwen Darling ended up standing in the center of a dusty arena facing off against the greatest warrior and prince of the Piccaninny Tribe - Tiger. The Indian prince had switched his feathered headdress for a headdress made out of the skin of a tiger. The tiger looked like it was devouring Tiger’s head, and the rest of the pelt covered Tiger’s back like a cape. The aura surrounding Tiger was one of confidence, strength and fearlessness. Eirwen gulped, feeling slightly intimidated.

Sitting regally in the stands, Chief Pantera raised her hand in order to start the death match. “Fighters…you may begin!”

Tiger grinned widely, flashing very white teeth, and got into a fighting stance with one tomahawk poised in front of him, and his other tomahawk slightly behind him for good swinging leverage.

Eirwen unsheathed his rapier and held it out before him as he got into a fencing stance. His back leg was straight and he was leaning into his attack position at a forty-five degree angle, front leg bent. His left hand was behind his back.

Eirwen could have used a little more confidence in that moment. He didn’t think he was Neverland’s foretold knight or their would-be king. There was this sinking feeling inside of his chest and his spirits began to plummet until he looked up into the stands and caught sight of the sickly Lost Girls. He remembered what they’d looked like without those colorful wigs, and something stirred inside of him.

Petra, his sisters, and the Lost Girls - he had people to fight for. People he wanted to protect.

I am Eirwen Darling, fencing champion. Eirwen reminded himself as he took a deep, steadying breath. And I know how to kick butt with a sword. I can trust in my own hard-earned skill at least. That’s something I can believe in.

He could do this. He could win. He had to. For Petra, his sisters and the Lost Girls. They were all counting on him. He couldn’t let them down.

Getting impatient while waiting for Eirwen to make the first move, Tiger let out a battle cry and charged towards his opponent. As soon as the Indian was close enough he swung his first tomahawk at Eirwen.

Eirwen quickly raised his rapier and blocked the attack. Tiger let out a frustrated growl, and brought his other tomahawk forward.

Eirwen dodged. Tiger spun like a top, bringing his right tomahawk upon Eirwen, and then his left in quick succession.

Showing off some fancy footwork, Eirwen blocked both attacks with ease.

The spectators in the tiered seats were watching the fight with baited breath. Tiger was vicious, relentless, and fast, but Eirwen had the longer reach with his deadly rapier, and Tiger couldn’t seem to get past Eirwen’s defenses. The stands had fallen silent and the only sound to be heard was the clanging sound Eirwen’s sword made as it clashed against Tiger’s tomahawks.

Eirwen concentrated his entire focus on Tiger’s hold and with a skillful twist of his wrist he managed to disarm Tiger and send his left tomahawk flying.

The Lost Girls, Petra and his sisters erupted into excited cheers at the sight. The Indians all moaned in despair and worry for their beloved prince.

Tinker, however, was not happy that Eirwen appeared to be gaining the upper hand against Tiger. He had to do something. But what? An evil smile curled his lips when a sudden idea came to him. A wicked idea. He summoned his magic and waggled his fingers towards the arena.

Eirwen concentrated on disarming Tiger of his remaining tomahawk next. If Tiger became weaponless, perhaps he could force his surrender. Eirwen lunged his rapier forward, aiming at the tomahawk in Tiger’s right hand.

However, in that exact moment, the ground beneath Eirwen’s left foot abruptly turned to mud and he stumbled forward as he tried to maintain his balance. “Bloody hell!” Eirwen almost fell flat on his face, but he quickly imbedded the rapier into the ground and used it for leverage in order to hop out of the mud and land on solid ground once more. “Phew.” He let out a breath of relief, a trickle of sweat sliding down his brow.

That had been close. Too close.

Eirwen frowned darkly as he glared at the mud puddle in obvious suspicion. “Is it just me…or was that mud puddle not there earlier?”

“The Great Spirit has granted me favor, Eirwen Darling!” Tiger declared in a haughty voice, a wide, vicious smile on his face. “Prepare to die!” The Indian prince charged towards Eirwen, his moccasins allowing him to run soundlessly across the sandy arena floor.

“The Great Spirit?” Eirwen’s voice was laced with incredulity. He glanced up into the stands and that’s when he caught sight of the fairy, Tinker, who was looking quite pleased with himself. Why, that little stinker! Eirwen thought, realizing that Tinker was up to something.

Watching his footwork to make sure Tinker didn’t create another mud puddle to trip him up; Eirwen redoubled his efforts to disarm Tiger. He had to disarm Tiger. It was the only way he was going to win this thing.

Eirwen surreptitiously glanced down and spotted another mud puddle forming out of thin air. Aha! He quickly looked back up at Tiger, but the Indian prince didn’t appear to have noticed it yet.

Eirwen moved a few steps back in order to make it look like he was retreating. He also tried to look afraid, and allowed his hand to tremble slightly.

Tiger fell for the trap and charged forward, a cocky grin on his face.

Gotcha. Eirwen thought triumphantly as he watched Tiger’s right foot slip down into the mud and the Indian prince stumble forward.

Now’s my chance! With a lunge and artful flick and twist of his wrist Eirwen disarmed Tiger sending his remaining tomahawk flying. Eirwen pointed his rapier at Tiger’s throat. “Do you yield?”

Tiger just smiled savagely, and laughed at Eirwen. “Never.”

Eirwen’s brow furrowed in confusion. “You have no more weapons. You cannot continue this fight…”

Tinker let out a frustrated huff and snapped his fingers so that Tiger’s foot was released from the mud. As soon as Tiger noticed he leapt backwards to put some distance between himself and Eirwen, grinning confidently. “Who says I’m out of weapons?” Tiger removed his tiger headdress with a flourish and reached behind him to grab two more tomahawks.

Bloody hell. Eirwen got into a fighting stance. Tiger threw one of the tomahawks at Eirwen, spun, and threw another. Eirwen blocked the first and then second with his rapier. As Tiger spun Eirwen caught a glimpse of Tiger’s back and his eyes widened like saucers. Several tomahawks were strapped to Tiger’s back like a mini-armory. “Oh, come on.”

Tiger continued to spin and launched tomahawks at Eirwen in quick succession. Each tomahawk was coming in faster than the last. Shit. Eirwen internally swore. It was taking all of Eirwen’s concentration to block those fierce attacks, and his hand was starting to tremble, and this time it wasn’t a ruse.

Suddenly, a large purple egg with yellow polka dots on it, and that was the size of a melon appeared out of thin air to hover in front of Eirwen’s face. “What the hell?”

A tomahawk that was flying through the air, end over end, hit the egg, and it exploded into a cloud of purple glitter. This completely caught Eirwen off guard and he got glitter in his eyes. “Ack!” He was now temporarily blinded. The hell? Had Tinker just glitter bombed him? That meddlesome fairy! Eirwen could hear Tinker cackling loudly at his plight from up in the stands, and bristled with anger.

Blind Eirwen was a sitting duck. Right?

Or so Tinker thought.

Eirwen took a deep breath and concentrated on blind fighting. He and his club mates had practiced blind fighting for shits and giggles back in London.

Tiger mercilessly continued to throw his tomahawks at Eirwen even though his opponent had been blinded - something, which Tiger thought was a boon, granted by the Great Spirit, and so didn’t bother to question it.

With his sharp hearing, Eirwen could hear the weapons whooshing through the air. He spun and blocked the first and then second tomahawk.

“Ooo!” Several spectators let out awed breaths in response to Eirwen’s impressive fighting prowess.

Tinker let out a growl of frustration. “Dodge this,” the fairy muttered darkly to himself and waggled his fingers.

Eirwen was unable to see what the hell was going on, and so didn’t see that as Tiger threw his tomahawks at Eirwen his weapons were bathed in a green-tinged light before transforming into snakes. Live snakes.

Tinker cackled evilly.

Eirwen felt something ‘off’ about the tomahawks that had been heading towards him, and instead of trying to block the weapons leapt backwards as far as he could. What the hell is that fairy up to now? What did he do?

Eirwen painfully blinked his eyes rapidly in order to clear them of the glitter. He needed to see. When Eirwen’s eyes finally cleared what he saw was that he was now surrounded by live snakes. His eyes flared in alarm and disbelief. How the hell had this happened? Was Tiger cheating…or was this all Tinker?

Tinker’s laughter was getting louder. Petra shot Tinker a questioning look when she suddenly realized what was going on. “Tink! Bad fairy! I should give you a spanking! I’ll have to fix this…” Petra waggled her fingers at the snakes. They were bathed in a green glow and then disappeared in a puff of green smoke. “There! I fixed it! You can thank me later, Eirwen, my darling!” Petra called down to Eirwen and waved in an enthusiastic manner.

Eirwen and Tiger both looked up at Petra, who was looking quite pleased with herself. “Now you boys can have a fair fight!” Petra yelled down loudly.

However, when the green smoke cleared it was to reveal a ginormous twenty-foot long snake. The snake had black and white stripes, and a red mouth filled with sharp teeth.

Eirwen glared up at Petra. “You just had to pull a Beetlejuice, didn’t you, Petra? Next time do me a favor and don’t help!”

The huge, menacing, creepy-ass snake slithered towards Eirwen. Eirwen got into a fighting stance. “I’m so dead,” he muttered glumly.

But then Tiger let out a battle cry and charged the snake. The Indian prince threw tomahawks at the snake, one after the other, and the weapons spun through the air end over end. The barrage of tomahawks flew through the air towards the snake and hit it, but the tomahawks just bounced harmlessly off the snake’s hard scales.

The snake hissed angrily and turned its sights on Tiger. The snake’s red mouth opened to show off its teeth in what appeared to be a sinister grin. The snake slithered towards Tiger, reared up in front of the Indian prince, and opened its maw wide.

Tiger stared up at the snake, swallowed a lump of fear, and resigned himself to his fate. “If the Great Spirit wishes this then I accept my fate.”

Shit. Eirwen internally swore as he watched what was happening. Why had Tiger helped him? He couldn’t just stand back and watch the Indian prince get eaten. “Dammit!” He ran towards Tiger. I won’t make it…

The snake descended upon Tiger, ready to swallow him whole.

Then Eirwen appeared directly in front of Tiger, and lunged his rapier up into the snake’s maw and right through the creature’s brain. The snake’s yellow eyes rolled into the back of its head as it died.

Eirwen let go of his rapier and stepped back as the snake collapsed to the ground in front of him - dead.

Oh, shit, Tiger. Eirwen had just placed his back to his enemy. Eirwen spun around worriedly, fists raised before him, expecting Tiger to fight him.

Tiger was looking at him with wide, astonished eyes, however. “How did you know to do that?” There was something that may have been respect shinning in the Indian’s dark eyes.

“I stole that move from a very talented wizard named Harry Potter,” Eirwen said seriously.

Tiger’s brow furrowed. “Harry Potter? I have not heard of this wizard.”

Eirwen smirked amusedly. “He’s from England. My homeland.” It was getting harder and harder for Eirwen to keep a straight face.

Tiger nodded agreeably. “I see.” Then Tiger surprised Eirwen by kneeling before him. “I yield.”

Eirwen blinked. “What? Why?”

“You saved my life,” Tiger declared, though there was a twinkle in his eye.

“Well, I was kind of returning the favor,” Eirwen pointed out. “You saved me first. Why did you do that, anyways?” He gave the Indian prince a searching look.

“I realized the fairy Tinker had been interfering in our fight.” An angry scowl formed on Tiger’s face. “I wanted a fair fight. An honorable fight. You could have let the snake eat me, but you chose to risk your life and save me instead. You fight with honor. You are a man of worth, Eirwen Darling.”

Eirwen was touched by Tiger’s words. He grinned and held his hand down to Tiger. “You also fight with honor, Prince Tiger.” Tiger took Eirwen’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up to his feet.

Loud, deafening cheers filled the coliseum arena. Joan and Michelle started chanting: “Darling! Darling! Darling!” And soon all of the spectators were chanting right along with them.

A bittersweet feeling rose up in Eirwen’s chest at the sound of those cheers so reminiscent of his fencing competitions. His heart clenched painfully inside of his chest at the thought that he’d most likely never participate in such a competition ever again.

Eirwen walked over to the dead snake, wrapped his hand around the hilt of the rapier, and pulled it out of the snake’s skull. He held the rapier high above his head in a victory pose. The cheers became even louder. With this victory, he’d won the chance to try and remove Excalibur from the stone.

What the hell am I doing, acting all cool? Eirwen thought to himself dismally. I’m nothing but a fraud.

Eirwen swayed on his feet. He was utterly exhausted. His whole body ached and he could feel a headache forming behind his eyes. He kind of felt like throwing up too. He had to concentrate so that his limbs wouldn’t visibly tremble. Eirwen didn’t want his sisters to worry…

All Eirwen wanted to do was crawl into a nice, warm bed, and sleep for the next five days. But apparently his victory was a cause for celebration. That evening, the Piccaninny Tribe held a great feast in Eirwen’s honor. The Indians were now also convinced that Eirwen was the foretold knight and would-be King of Neverland.

Eirwen felt like such a fake. An imposter. He’d managed to win his match against Tiger by the skin of his teeth, and with a whole lot of luck.