The Forsaken Hero

Soltair entered the room, a solemn expression on his face. Father Ithris followed behind him, his presence making the small room feel cramped.

"Xiviyah, did they tell you about the duel?" Soltair asked urgently.

I shook my head. "I only heard it last night from a few rather unsavory visitors."

His face fell, and he sat down on the bed heavily. "Oh. I've been trying to talk to you for the entire week, but something always came up." He gave a venomous stare at Father Ithris, who pretended not to notice.

"I've heard the basics of the duel, but why are you taking this so seriously? Don't you spar every day?"

"That's different. Trishe and I are simply training, whereas this is a more significant matter. Ronin, the War Hero, challenged me in front of the entire upper echelon of the Divine Throne a few days ago, barely minutes after they arrived. The common belief is that I'm the strongest hero, as I was chosen by the Sun God, and he wants to upset that."

I could tell Soltair was holding something back, and he cast a meaningful glance at Father Ithris. The church must have something to do with it as well.

Father Ithris cleared his throat, looking between us. "I've come to announce the conditions of the duel. As the hero mentioned, he should be the strongest of the bunch. Thus, it is unacceptable that he disgrace himself with a loss. Impossible, in fact. If that were to be the case, there is obviously something holding him back. "

I took a nervous breath. It wasn't hard to see where this was going. Soltair placed his hand on mine, but that did little to reassure me.