Ep. 52- The Tourney of the Successor (pt 1)
ext. tournament yard night
Flashback continued.
Twenty knights in various array of armor stand in formation on an open green field. Before them is a podium and stage, upon which stands the instructor. Seated to the side are the Old Queen of Swords annd The Sun.
INSTRUCTOR
Since you were old enough to walk each of you has grown alongside your own blade. You made it your own. Became one with it. I have attempted to mold each of you as the blacksmith molds a piece of hewn iron, smoothing the rough edges. That you stand here is evidence of my success- and yours. No longer are you the cheap metal extracted from dirt and stone. Rather, now each one of you is a product of precision, an illustration of our House’s tradition.
The Sun allows a thin smile to pass over his beaming face. It is not one of benevolence.
INSTRUCTOR
You were selected because you are exemplary. The best of your class. The future hope of the House of Swords. This Battle Royale shall determine our next Successor to the Crown of Swords, as it has since the beginning of our House. The last one standing shall someday ascend the throne.
Among the knights stands the Young Queen of Swords. At her side is a broad, enormous buster sword, its point dug into the ground. She leans against it as she listens.
Next to her, similarly aged, is a fellow recognize now as the GANGLY YOUTH who persecuted her as a child. He has grown into his long limbs and now has a face we recognize to be that of the future Page of Swords.
YOUNG PAGE OF SWORDS
No demon will be the Successor. Arcana powers or not, I will walk away with a victory over you, if no one else.
YOUNG QUEEN OF SWORDS
Well, between us, that would still leave me with ten sparring wins and…you…1. Aiming low if you ask me.
The Young Page of Swords grips the cord wrap of his katana handle, thumb passing over the guard. He passes an opposing hand within a fold of his armor and withdraws a small flask. Folding his neck down he takes a quick pull.
YOUNG QUEEN OF SWORDS
Tch. Fajro juice? You’ll just burn yourself out in a few minutes. Besides, its against the rules.
YOUNG PAGE OF SWORDS
(huskily, as he returns the flask within the fold of his armor)
You have powers. The rest of us will do what we must to keep up. If you’re so confident in your strength, what’s it to you?
The camera passes over the movement of the flask returning, lingering for a moment on a series of tiny puncture scars on the forearm of the Young Page. A brief flashback- the Young Queen biting the Young Page’s arm in a battle from their youth.
The Young Page cracks his neck, small fumes of steam snorting from his nostrils, the fajro juice coursing through his veins, his eyes glowing a soft red.
INSTRUCTOR
Do your best to show your worth before the Queen and our gracious guest of the Major Arcana, His Radiance, The Sun.
PAGE OF SWORDS
(regarding the Sun with awe)
Now that’s a ruler fit for a kingdom. Absolutely merciless- and pays better than anyone.
The Young Queen furls her brow, ignoring the Page as she regards the Sun’s cheerful, outlined smile that betrays no notice of her stare.
QUEEN OF SWORDS
Just looks like another creep to me.
The Sun’s visage shifts slight and sudden to a darker shade and the Young Queen can’t help but start. The Sun’s visage shifts back to its innocuous, innocent blaze in but a breath, the fearsome moment passing…
