The intensity, hatred, that arose in the air was deafening. There was a heat that surrounded the training grouds; Evangeline could notice beads of sweat dripping down Fletcher and Vance’s foreheads despite the freezing cold atmosphere that the outside world provided.

The two men had yet to start, but even then, the fiercnes was showcased in their preparation. Fletcher had taken out his sword and put on some proper sparring armor to ensure he wouldn’t get injured in the battle, not seriously, at least. Vance had taken his time, scouting the sparring grounds and attempting to familiarize himself with it. 

Evangeline found a bench where she was able to watch the battle rather closely yet at a safe enough distance to not get caught in the cross fire. Her arms ached, but she was thankful to have a short rest before she went on her way to the grand study room to aid Anastasia to lunch. However, Evangeline had no idea if she would be suitable to be Anastasia’s knight any longer; she started to ponder if, or more like when, the king would decide on a more appropriate knight until Evangeline was fully healed and ready to ensue action yet again. 

“Alright,” Fletcher announced as he was finally prepared to begin the battle. Vance soon walked closer, and the two were only a few feet away, glaring at each other with a burning hatred in their eyes. Or, at least, that was what Evangleine thought she was observing. Perhaps it could have been something else, maybe admiration? Excitement? Anxiety?

It could be an array of every emotion a person could experience. However, when it came to being a knight, or someone tasked with combat, emotions had to be masked, hidden. Emotion often showed weakness whether positive or negative, and to Evangeline, when she fought, it was easy to allow emotional leakage to spring through her facial expressions. She had been attempting to conceal those emotions, but it often was difficult due to her being a naturally expressive, proud person.

“Are you ready, Chief?” Vance asked, allowing the sides of his mouth to curve into a smile. Evangeline laid back on the bench and stared intently towards the battle where the two men held their respective swords forward. The blade of the two swords touched, and the men steadied themselves, each putting a foot forward to balance their weight forward. 

Suddenly, the two swords clashed forward, the blades making a SHING, within the battle field. Evangeline felt a little chill run down her spine as the men forced themselves closer with their sword continuously going forward.

Suddenly, Vance shifted backwards and took a step behind him, taking his sword away and then putting it in front of him yet again. Fletcher did the same, and Evangeline couldn’t help but put her hand under her chin and lean forward in anticipation. 

Vance leapt forward with extreme fierceness, like that of a predator dashing towards their pray. 

Fletcher side stepped, but only at the last second. Of course, he wore a smile the entire time. Evangeline noticed a little shimmer of excitement bubbling within his irises, his pupils also dilated. Was this a game to him? Perhaps, but it also was a battle he apparently didn’t allow himself to experience all too often.  

Vance then proceeded to dash forward again, this time swinging his sword right at Fletcher. Instead of side stepping to avoid contact, Fletcher held out of his and swung as well, making the two swords hit each other, a scream coming from the two blades’ violent dance. 

Evangeline let out a little breath, the air formulated into a cloud. She shifted her weight accordingly to keep the blood flowing accordingly into her extremeities. 

As Evangeline continued to watch the two continuing to spar, with lots of CLINGS and CLANGS, she found herself intrigued by Vance’s experienced skills. He was incredibly posed yet wasn’t afraid to strike like a cobra when he felt that chance was exposed. However, Fletcher was just as skilled, perhaps even more, and that simply came with the years of experience under his belt. It was clear that Vance had the physical upper-hand due to his young age, but that didn’t mean that Fletcher was not far behind. Despite his, slightly, older age, he managed to be rather agile and able to keep on par with Vance’s pure strength and speed. 

When Evangeline thought that things were at a stalemate there seemed to be a break through in the tie when Fletcher managed to pull a familiar move on Vance that he used a few night’s ago on Evangeline. He managed to catch Vance with his stature too high, and without a second thought, he dashed forward and side stepped to the left before bringing his sword forward and putting it to the tip of Vance’s throat, the blade threatening to cut thorough his delicate skin. 

Vance seemed stunned as his sword was frozen in his hands. His eyes seemed focus on the blade to his throat, and Fletcher took the opportunity to use his sword and force it downwards, throwing it out of Vance’s hands. When it fell to the floor, Fletcher moved quickly, forcing himself behind Vance and keeping his sword close to his throat.

“I got you,” Fletcher said with a smirk on his face, pressing the edge of the sword closer to Vance’s neck; he probably could have taken it away, but there seemed to be a hint of enmity in his words. 

“No you don’t,” Vance snapped as he elbowed Fletcher in the stomach and ran to pick up his sword. Evangeline rose an eyebrow and let out an angry gasp. 

“Wait, that’s not fair!” Evangeline shouted, standing up on her crutches suddenly and making her way over to the spar. She didn’t care if she was moving slowly, her anger radiated amongst the battle field. “If you were in a real battle, he would have slit your throat without a fucking second. So, to elbow him in the stom—” 

“No,” Fletcher said, letting out mischievous smile with a little bit of pride in it. Evangeline rose her eyebrow as Fletcher put his sword back in his scabboard, “I like someone who isn’t afraid to fight back even in the most dire of situations. You have guts, kid. And I like someone with a bit of bite in their bark.”

Vance hesitantly put his sword back in his scabbard, but he let out a hint of a smile at the praise. Was it acclaim? Regard? Respect. It was likely all of the three. 

“You’re not bad, Chief. You live up to your reputation; not many people can hold up against me for too long.” Fletcher nodded his head and brushed a bead of sweat off of his forehead, which surprised Evangeline. Fletcher never sweat, normally, as no one was able to force him to actually compete. With the cold weather too? Evangeline was impressed to say the least, as well as a bit jealous. She knew she was a good fighter, but she was never able to compete with what Vance had done that day.

Fletcher nodded his head, and Evangeline was a bit stunned. Vance has respect for Fletcher? And Fletcher had respect for Vance? To see the two, from two kingdoms that were less than friendly coming together in a fight and that was domesticated, and not something to the death, it was … interesting to say the least. 

“So, who’s buying the drinks?” Evangeline asked, trying to loosen up by moving slightly. The cold was starting to become more used to the cold, or, as she would say, so cold that it no longer bothered her anymore. Vance didn’t look like he was cold at all, perhaps it was just because he fought a rather difficult sparring match, but, even then, he was not impacted by the cold at all even when just standing there. 

“I will,” Fletcher said before had the ability to speak. Evangeline wasn’t surprised at all, when Fletcher felt like someone had done something up to his standards, he would typically reward them. And doing something up to his standards or above was quite difficult. He had very, extremely, high standards to reach. “But only us three, I feel that it would be best to go over some important … discussions.”

“Well, I shall ask the important question,” Vance pondered aloud, letting out a slight smile. He walked a bit closer to Fletcher and stretched slightly, suggesting that the cold was starting to impact him, at least. “When are we to meet?”

“I suggest tonight, I could use the time to get out of this damned castle.” Evangeline let out a sigh, “I truly don’t care about how far the walk is, I just need to get out and perhaps drink my sorrows away a little bit.”

Vance stifled a laugh, but only slightly. He gave Evangeline a side eye and mouthed the word “really?” and Evangeline, in return, gave him a dirty glare. 

“Well, I suppose tonight is as good as every,” Vance eventually said, and Flethcer and Evangeline both nodded, each one giving one another a look. It sparked a bit of nervousness for the fear of the unknown, simply because they were meeting with someone who was less than an “ally”, closer to an enemy. 

“How about,” Fletcher takes out a small pocket watch from his pocket and opens it, looking at the time the clock read, “at twenty-one hundred we shall meet at the front of the gate to head over to Sunset Tavern? I expect it will be a bit crowded, but fun nevertheless, they have quite the reputation for being … exotic.”

“Exotic you say?” Vance questioned, raising an eyebrow in return. Evangeline, in the moment, had her mind flash back to Leona and the way she talked to Evangeline when she went there. Her pink lip stick and curvy figure … it brought an unknown feelin in Evangeline’s stomach that troubled her. Perhaps it was troubling thoughts but ones of alluration. 

She let out a little curse under her breath at the thoughts that ran through her head; they were foreign to her, and she wasn’t sure whether to enjoy or fear them. Either way, it would be an eventful night that she looked forward to, albeit with a hint of reticence.