When Merrick turned to look for his people in the crowd, the Prince lunged forward with his pole mace.
Merrick dropped flat on the ground, letting the spiked ball pass over his head as he murmured a word from the Wind Dragon’s lexicon that sent him rolling away with superhuman speed.
As he jumped to his feet to face the Prince once again, he knew he was going to have to rely on his skills as a fighter and on his limited knowledge of Wind Magic to get him through this fight.
The two warriors circled each other, their weapons held at the ready.
Merrick faded back, farther away from his opponent, and caught a glimpse of Mona in the crowd. Her face was filled with fear, and he did his best to assure her with his gaze that everything was going to be all right.
While Merrick was distracted, the Prince lunged forward with astonishing speed, swinging his pole mace like an axe. Merrick turned his body to one side and felt the breeze as the spiked end of the pole passed in front of his face.
Another close call.
When the Prince followed through with his swing, Merrick brought up his knee into a half roundhouse kick and landed a direct hit into the Prince’s midsection. Almost casually, the Prince spun around to face Merrick, showing no signs of having just been struck. He jabbed this time with the pole mace, and Merrick jumped high into the air and flipped backward with the help of another wind word.
Before he landed, the Prince was on him again, pressing his advantage. He led with a front kick that Merrick avoided easily, as he stayed just out of range of his opponent’s powerful strikes.
The Prince stumbled as he overextended his leg at the end of his kick, and Merrick brought his pole around in an attempt to hit the Prince broad-ways across the chest. The Prince stopped Merrick’s swing with a hard block using his forearm, the impact of which sent a shock through Merrick that stung like hitting a telephone poll with an aluminum bat.
Through the shouting and jeering of the crowd, Merrick doubted his ability to defeat the Prince, but for only a second. He knew that most fights were won in the mind, so he cleared his brain of negative thoughts and sought refuge in his ensuing, internal quiet.
Merrick raised his spear to block another swing of the Prince’s pole mace, as the two men neared to within only a couple feet of one another. At such close range, they both moved with blurring precision and speed, and the makeshift arena in which they fought reverberated with the clanking of their weapons.
At one point, their poles struck each other so hard that they caused a spark. Seeing a fleeting opportunity, Merrick used a Fire Word to fan the flash into a fireball that erupted in front of the Prince’s face.
The Prince backed away quickly, released a powerful burst of air that snuffed out the flame, and lowered into a fighting stance once again. Merrick settled into his stance as well, as both men readied themselves.
In an attempt to surprise the Prince, Merrick flowed into a one-handed cartwheel to move himself off to the left, but the Prince released a column of wind, striking Merrick while he was in mid-maneuver, that sent him flying through the air, limbs flailing.
Merrick landed roughly, rolled, and regained his stance, ready for the Prince, who was preparing to launch into the air again to continue their fight.
But Merrick was quicker and jumped forward with a flurry of front kicks that sent the Prince backing up, putting him off balance.
Pressing his advantage, Merrick lunged. Ready this time, the Prince raised his pole mace and grazed Merrick’s lower leg with its spikes. The blow ripped Merrick’s battle suit and drew a rivulet of red that splashed onto the cloud floor on which they stood.
The crowd erupted, cheering at the sight of first blood.
Merrick switched up his fighting stance so that his wounded leg was in back. He raised his pole mace and jabbed it at the Prince. His leg was throbbing in pain, but what concerned him more was the all-too-familiar energy he’d felt emanating from his opponent’s weapon when it had torn his battle suit.
The Prince grinned darkly as he gripped his pole mace tightly and readied himself for another attack. As he tensed to swing, the spiked end of his weapon glowed red, like embers in a fire, and Merrick realized what he should have known sooner—that his opponent was after more than just a symbolic victory for the Wind Family.
He was there to kill him.
