Young Writers Society

The day before the Autumnal Equinox Ball passed like a blur after Axel and Elizabeth’s first match. In fact, Rudi could hardly remember collapsing in his bed that night. So when Simon barreled into his room the next morning, yelling about hiding, Rudi was more than a little disgruntled.

“You have to help me!” Simon pleaded, shaking Rudi’s shoulders, “My sisters have it out for me! They’re all going to try to dance with me, and there is no way I can survive through eight dances.”

Rudi yawned. “At least you know all the dances.”

“And you—oh right. Never mind. Anyways, enough about me. Axel’s match is starting in fifteen minutes. You are not missing this, because it will be exciting, and because Vinnia will never let you get away with it.”

“But you missed yesterday’s—“

“Shh!” Simon said, dropping Rudi back onto his bed, “Just be at the match, okay? It’ll be outside, in the archery courtyard. Bye!” The older boy scrambled out of the room, skidding as he tried to turn into the hallway. A few papers drifted to the floor, disturbed by the wind in his wake.

Once Rudi worked up the motivation to get up and haphazardly put his papers back on the desk, it didn’t take much time to get to the courtyard. Shade still covered most of the yard, sunrays only barely skimming the top of the west wall. The archery equipment had been dumped in a pile in a secluded corner, and wooden benches were arranged in a square around the courtyard’s center. Already, Axel and Elizabeth stood inside it, stretching their arms. Light, leather armor covered their torsos, and dull blades rested on the ground nearby. A sizeable crowd of pages had already gathered in the benches, the normally homogenous green dotted with the bright colors of knights and their squires.

Almost as soon as Rudi started wandering the benches, trying to find Vinnia and Simon, the girl herself climbed atop a front-row seat.

“Rudi!” she shouted, waving a hand, “We’re over here! Simon managed to save you a seat.” Judging by her un-braided hair, Vinnia had woken up late as well.

As Rudi scurried towards the front, the count entered the center square. He held up his hands, sleeves billowing in the slight breeze that circled around the yard, and the entire audience quiet.

“Today, Axel and Elizabeth will be competing in their second match, a double-grip swordfight. Are our referees positioned yet?” A few voices called out affirmation, and Count Stephan resumed speaking. “Good. Are the duelists ready?”

Silently, Axel and Elizabeth each picked up a practice sword. They tested their grips for a few seconds before nodding at the count. He stepped away, one hand held above his head, and began to count off.

“One, two, three, begin!”

Like arrows from Axel’s bow, both duelists shot forward. Their swords clashed, a metal ring resounding through the courtyard. With every pass, every parry, Rudi’s ears buzzed. He watched Elizabeth and Axel’s elaborate dance, wondering who would win.

Not four minutes in, Rudi noticed the oddest thing. He hadn’t been counting, but Axel’s rebounds were slower. He slid further along the ground with every hit, and his steps became clunky and heavy. Rudi’s hair fluttered over his ears as Vinnia whispered something to him.

“Elizabeth’s going to win,” she said quietly, “She’s faster and smaller, and her sword weighs less. Look at how there’s less inertia in her swing.”

Rudi looked. Sure enough, Elizabeth’s sword stopped faster than Axel’s. She lunged forward, closing the distance between herself and Axel in no time at all. She swung, her sword aimed high—for Axel’s neck, Rudi realized. In the nick of time, Axel caught her sword with his own. With a chalkboard-scraping sound, he slid his shaft down until their sword hilts touched.

“This is unexpected,” Simon said, his eyebrows furrowed, “Axel’s not usually a player for unfair tactics.”

“Unfair?” Vinnia asked, “How? And why, for goodness sake, do they call this a double-grip swordfight? For half the fight, they’ve only been using one hand each.”

“It’s to distinguish between fights that use shields, and fights that don’t,” Simon explained, “Now watch. You’ll see how this is unfair.”

Rudi did see it. In the time he had spent listening to Simon and Vinnia, Axel had used his larger bulk to force weight onto Elizabeth. Their locked swords keeping both duelists in a bind, this had become a game of brute strength, rather than swordsmanship.

Suddenly, Elizabeth’s knees buckled. Her feet slid backwards. Her arms trembled under Axel’s pressure. One knee gave out, and Axel’s sword crashed down.

He missed her.

A deft flick of Elizabeth’s wrist tossed Axel’s sword sideways, and she rolled out of the predicament with new vigor. Sweat glimmered under her blonde hair, and a smile played out her lips. Rudi could barely make out the words, “you’ve lost, Cart-Part.”

Faster than Rudi could blink, Elizabeth grabbed Axel’s shirt collar. She pulled him forward, sword resting underneath his chin. If the two pages had used real weapons, Axel would be dead. He raised his hands in surrender, sword falling to the ground with a clatter.

“Elizabeth of Luxom has won the match!” announced the count.

“Why give the signal?” Vinnia asked quietly, watching as the count walked into the square to speak again, “He already lost.”

“The official rules state that someone must either concede or be floored for over five seconds,” Simon whispered back, “Why do you have to question everything?”

Vinnia clucked her tongue. “Because I do. That’s why.”

As pages and knights filtered out of the courtyard, Rudi and his friends sat on in silence. Axel and Elizabeth shook hands, glaring at each other as they ran off to put away their swords. A few stragglers began trying to dismantle the duel set up, and Sir Thorsten tried to shoo them away. They didn’t pay him any attention.

The dismantlers neared Rudi, and he made to stand up, but a booted foot slammed down on the bench.

“You kids should know that there’ll be more duels later today. No point in cleaning up now,” said Lady Naomi. Her sword hung from her hip, right in Rudi’s face, sheathed in a leather scabbard with intricate waves stamped into it. “Now go on, put the benches back where they were. I’m sure these three will help you.”

It took a few moments for Rudi to realize she was gesturing to him and his friends. Simon grumbled a complaint about being sweaty, but Vinnia shushed him. “There’s no stopping Lady Naomi,” she hissed, grabbing Simon’s arm. She hauled him up and smiled at Lady Naomi.

“Actually,” interrupted Count Stephan, “you three need to be at the tailor’s room now to pick up garments for tonight. A little warning to you, Vinnia—you won’t like the dress.” He turned immediately towards the lady knight, commenting on her habit of carrying the sword everywhere.

“What does he mean, I won’t like the dress?” Vinnia asked, scurrying to catch up as Rudi and Simon walked away. She fell in line beside them and asked Simon what girls did here in the Stadt.

He thought for a moment, rubbing his chin the way Sir Thorsten always stroked his goatee. “I think my sisters usually wear full skirts with ruffles everywhere.” Vinnia’s face wrinkled in disgust. “Why—oh. Not into dresses? Don’t worry; you’re just like all the other girls.”

She puffed her cheeks. “It’s not the dress. It’s the ruffles.” Footsteps echoing off the green hallway, she began a rant about how ruffles would drag in the snow and mud if they were stuck on the bottom of a dress, and tickled her face if they were around the neckline. She continued all the way to the tailoring hallway, where amused glances and giggles quieted her.

“I still don’t understand the ruffle business,” she grumbled, glaring at the other girls.

Rudi ignored her as he looked around. The line was much shorter today than it had been on during the fittings, even with girls and boys together. He watched through his magic sight as a boy exited the tailoring room with a pile of clothes, and noticed random lines of teal magic running up and around the bundle. It was the same with every other page who left that room, though the magic did vary in color.

“Vinnia,” Rudi began, watching as Mari unfolded a yellow gown and grimaced, “do people normally put magic in clothes?”

For a moment, Vinnia’s eyes seemed to focus on something. “I… I don’t know. Maybe it’s a rich-people thing.”

Rudi sniffled. “I don’t want to have magic in my clothes. What if someone destroys the spell?”

“That’s a good question,” Vinnia said, biting her lips, “I guess it’d depend on where the magic is. It’s in the seams for most of what we’re getting right? I wonder what kind of spell it is.”

“Should we ask?”

Vinnia nodded, lips pulled taut.

Feeling thoroughly important, Rudi and Vinnia waited in the line to retrieve their clothes for the ball. They tried their best to examine every article of clothing that the older pages unfolded to show off to their friends. Vinnia discovered that the ruffles she’d been so afraid of were actually placed at the ends of half-sleeves, which she found very interesting, as she’d never worn a dress with real sleeves. All of hers had been worn over shirts.

The line eventually dwindled until only a few pages were left twiddling their thumbs in the hallway. As though they had an important mission, Rudi and Vinnia marched into the room and peered around. It was just as frantic inside as it had been on fitting day, with the tailors sewing and cursing about deadlines. The loom in the corner kept weaving, powered by the same rainbow of magic as always.

“Didn’t I say one student at a time?” said an impatient voice. Rudi and Vinnia whipped around to stare up at the head tailor. Tentatively, they nodded.

“Then why would both of you come in at once? I swear, you first-years are incapable of listening.” She turned away, cupping her hands to yell. “Genevieve? Garments for Rudolph and Vinnia, please!”

“Yes Ma’am!” someone shouted back. A moment later, the doors to a huge dresser flew open, and two piles of fabric shot out. Rudi could only blink before his pile halted in front of him, hovering just where he could conveniently grab it.

After a sidelong glance at Vinnia, Rudi snatched the clothes from the air and tried to look innocent. “Ma’am?” he asked, “I noticed there are spells on the clothes, and I was wondering what—“

“Don’t even go there, boy,” the head tailor said, tilting her chin to appear even more intimidating, “I know what you’re thinking. You want to destroy the spell on one of your friends’ suits so the reinforcement on the basting will come out. Well, you’re not going to, and don’t even ask what basting is. Now leave.” She clapped her hands and raised an eyebrow threateningly, sending Rudi and Vinnia scurrying out of the room and through the halls.

They arrived, panting, at the dorms, arms full of silky cloth, and turned to each other.

“I know what basting is, Rudi,” Vinnia said, “It’s a wide stitch that people use to hold things together before they actually sew it. Come on, it’s past seven, so you can come to my room, and I’ll show you what the tailor meant.”