Forgotten Rival
I pulled out my swords, making clear the fact that I was now capable of handling two-handed weapons with just one hand. I slowly lowered one to his eye-line.
“Prepare yourself!” I yelled, a little hesitantly.
“Yeah… You!!” he yelled back, pulling out his longsword.
You?
“Do you not know my name?” I yelled, offended.
“Well, it probably slipped through the cracks. What did I do to you, again, I’m sure I’ll remember if you give me the context,” he said, patiently.
“You mean you don’t remember?” I said, stalling.
“Not at all, sorry. I understand it was probably awful, though,” he shrugged.
“Oh, yeah, it was,” I said, angrily.
“Could… It would really help me out if you told me what it was.”
“I’m so upset at even the notion that you’d forget something so egregious.”
He leaned on his sword and scratched his head with one hand.
“Was it Lamone? Are you from Lamone?”
“What? No, I’m not. Do I look like I’m from Lamone?”
“No, but I met a merchant there I’m pretty sure I offended.”
“Oh, ok,” I nodded.
“So, was it your father or something? Messed with your family,” he continued.
I lowered my swords a bit in contemplation.
“No…” I responded slowly at first, then with more confidence, “No, it definitely wasn’t a family thing.”
“Do you not know what it was?” he asked worriedly.
“How dare you even imply that I would forget what I spent years preparing to avenge. You disgust me,” I spat.
“Sure,” he clearly didn’t believe me. “So, you wanna fight it out or… like I can still fight if you need me to.”
I pursed my lips.
“No, I really want to figure this out, actually. I feel like it should be important enough to be at the forefront of my mind while we’re fighting.”
He nodded, understandably.
“I can meet you at the tavern by Henrip. I have a death match at around noon today, but if I survive, I’ll meet you there right after,” he offered. “We can figure it out over lunch. My treat.”
“Ok, how long will your deathmatch take, you think?”
“No idea. I challenged this guy to a duel, but I can’t seem to remember what for,” he said, shrugging.