Chapter Text
“I don’t understand why there’s no one at the camp in the morning,” thought the valkyrie bitterly as she walked toward it.
“They say the best teams are always in the arena in the morning, but… hm… I don’t see any activity.”
The next Clash tournament would take place the following month, but no one showed up to step onto the field, as if, for some obscure reason, they were avoiding an unwelcome presence.
Flare, the valkyrie, was unaware of this malevolent presence, so she walked calmly.
In the coliseum, she sharpened her axe and approached the area where the valkyries usually practiced throwing, or those typical competitions in which they had to split a log exactly in half with a single strike.
Flare, frankly, was not an exceptional valkyrie. She was average at best.
But since her whole family was made up of proud valkyries, Flare could not disown them, even if it meant working much harder than the others to achieve the same results.
Lifting the double-bladed axe behind her head, Flare flexed her arms and strained to make a clean cut.
She cut halfway through the log with a crooked, wavering strike.
Wiping the sweat from her forehead, she muttered to herself, though out loud, because she thought she was alone:
“What would my mother say about this…? Ugh… this old, heavy axe.”
At that exact moment, when she least expected to be watched, she heard a muffled laugh coming from the podium, poorly concealed.
The valkyrie turned, confused, ready to question the source of the laughter.
It turned out the observer was a girl Flare had never seen before.
From her appearance, she seemed smaller than Flare, both in height and in hair.
The girl wore a brass plate that covered her from abdomen to chest, and beneath it, chainmail. Her legs, in turn, were covered only by simple trousers and leather boots.
The valkyrie, in what would be considered the opposite, wore only a simple cloak fastened around her body with knots at the waist and under the arms, and on her feet, only sandals.
From what the valkyrie could see, with the girl carrying a bow almost the size of her torso on her back, she was an archer.
Flare looked her up and down again, irritated, because realizing that there was no one else in the arena, the archer was clearly laughing at her. Her face tightened, which seemed to amuse the stranger even more, who leaned forward with her elbows resting on the railing of the stand.
“You cut the log crooked,” the archer commented, with an innocent expression that didn’t fool Flare. “I mean… from up here, you cut that log, like, completely crooked. Or am I mistaken and it’s a valkyrie technique? Sorry, I’m unfamiliar with the subject.”
Flare clenched her fists and, consequently, the handle of the axe. She felt a nearly physical urge to retaliate, but managed to restrain herself. She answered politely, though with a slightly altered tone:
“Ah... And who are you?” she asked.
The archer replied, still resting her face in her hands:
“My name is Ely. Are you sure you don’t know me? You must be a foreigner, most likely…”
She cast a sideways glance, as if thinking, before fixing her dark eyes straight ahead.
“Know that I am a very, very important princess of the Blue Kingdom. I am also the best archer in the county.”
Flare, in truth, belonged to the Yellow Kingdom, so she was not very familiar with the genealogies of the allied nations.
She only knew that the Blue King had three daughters, and that the worst of them was Ely, the youngest. “Is that why no one dares come here in the morning?” the valkyrie wondered, feeling suddenly uneasy for a few seconds.
No one had warned her about this.
“And you would be? What is your name and origin, valkyrie of the ‘old and heavy axe’?” the princess retorted.
“My name is Flare, and I came from the Yellow Kingdom for the tournament,” the valkyrie sighed. “You know, it’s not nice to laugh at others. I understand that my strike wasn’t exceptional, which is unfortunate, but I was only warming up. Your condescending tone offends me.”
Flare said this bluntly, surprising even herself.
“What?” the princess responded, shaking her head as if she did not understand and could not possibly understand. “Of course not! As if I could offend you… My tone was only curious, my common Flare. Are your hearts really that fragile…? In that case, forgive this princess.”
She jumped from the podium in a single leap, landing in a crouch, the impact harsher than she expected. Even so, she behaved as though nothing had affected her.
“Condescending tone…” she repeated to herself. “What a joke! Hehe. Very well, then show me how it’s done. I’m waiting. Cut the log.”
Ely stepped closer to watch.
Flare’s desire to train had evaporated completely.
She looked at the smaller figure beside her, still wearing that fragile and “innocent” expression, and felt even more indignant.
Flare huffed again before grabbing a new log and preparing herself.
She lifted the axe to head height and, with a single strike, brought it down with extra force—because she was truly irritated—and although not exactly down the middle, she sliced through the log like butter. Then she turned to the princess:
“Satisfied, Your Grace?”
The princess examined the damage with a gloved finger pressed to her lips in a questioning gesture.
Ely climbed up to where the valkyrie had placed the log and began counting the splinters.
Flare could not have been more surprised by her reaction.
“Very well, very well. You do know that in these competitions involving valkyries, the important thing is that there are only two splinters, right? The right splinter and the left splinter. But look at this mess… one, two, three, four, five… It was supposed to be exactly in the middle… I thought valkyries were graced with precision, not just brute strength.”
Flare felt irritated and bothered once more.
“Then why don’t you do better, Your Grace…?” Flare said, forcing a sweet smile that looked more like a snarl.
Ely laughed, covering her mouth with her glove.
“Oh my, my! That is the spirit of a competitor… Hmm. Could you lend me the axe?”
“Of course,” said the valkyrie, extending the blade, which was almost as large as the princess herself.
The young woman reached out confidently with both hands, but the moment the weight pulled downward, she had to struggle constantly to keep the axe from hitting the ground. Her face was now twisted with desperate effort.
“What an outrageous instrument…!” she gasped, finally letting it drop. “This horrendous object is unworthy of my princess hands. It’s a peasant’s tool, isn’t it…? Well,” she began again, cracking her fingers and pretending that picking up the axe had never been her original intent, “if you want precision, we can try a more refined sport, one that involves the brain. Do you practice archery, my common Flare?”
“I admit that I have practiced before, yes… but it’s not my specialty.”
“Oh? And what would it be, then? Because the axe certainly isn’t either.”
The valkyrie crossed her arms and frowned at her.
“Do I bother you?”
“Very much!” she replied with extraordinary clarity. “Never mind. Then let’s go with the bow!” Flare thundered. “Just don’t forget that your little arms couldn’t even lift an axe…” she muttered to herself, staring at the smiling princess.
“Great! Archery, then! Just remember that you’ll be watching a professional in action, so be grateful it’s free. Also, you should know that valkyries aren’t supposed to prove their courage by shouting. That’s so outdated and frightening with a delicate princess like me around…”
“Ugh, don’t tell me!”
Ely skipped toward the line of targets and pulled her bow from her back. Although it was a plain wooden bow, it was clearly well-crafted and likely very expensive.
“My common Flare! Would you be so kind as to do me the remarkable favor of raising the targets over there on the other side of the arena?”
Ely made no effort whatsoever to pretend she didn’t see Flare as a servant. The valkyrie, showing tremendous patience, moved to lift the targets. She raised three wooden frames covered with cloth whose centers were painted red in spiral circles. Normally, given the circumstances, one might expect Flare to be greatly irritated, perhaps even on the verge of an outburst. Yet she remained outwardly calm and disguised.
“Watch!” said Ely, taking an arrow from her quiver. “Now you’re going to learn a little about precision, so pay close attention.”
Ely held the arrow, positioned her feet, closed one eye to aim—she also had the habit of biting her tongue while doing all this—and—to the valkyrie’s great displeasure as she watched from the side—hit the target dead center.
“Ha! Did you see where it landed? Actually, never mind, you obviously knew it would hit the center. We’re talking about me, Princess Ely, consecutive winner of the Clash tournament in the archery category. Hehehe… Your turn!”
Flare blinked a few times, still incredulous at the situation, and moved to pick up one of the training bows.
She tried to position her feet and hands like the princess, but it was clear that years without practice had taken their toll.
Flare released the arrow and, at the very least, hit the target, rather than the straw behind it.
“Ah…! How adorable,” the princess said, her voice higher than usual. “The ‘Old Heavy Axe’ Valkyrie actually hit the target…? So close!” She pinched her fingers together. “You were a hair’s breadth away from missing horribly. Well, I expected as much. Again? I bet you were just ‘warming up’ and you’ll do better now, right? Just like with the logs, correct?”
Flare huffed for the fourth or fifth time that day and grabbed a second arrow from the quiver.
She was determined to silence her with a perfect shot. She pulled the string with unnecessary force, nearly drawing it past her ear—yet concentrating was almost impossible with the princess going “huhuhuhuh~” right behind her, sounding as if she were hissing just to irritate her.
When Flare released the arrow, it drifted off course with the wind and landed on the ground near the target. This provoked a genuine laugh from the princess.
“So that was the result of 30 seconds staring at the target like a statue? Ha!”
Flare twisted her neck with a crooked smile, as if stung by a wasp.
“I missed. Go to hell.”
Still chuckling softly, the princess drew another arrow and, maintaining eye contact with the valkyrie—that face Flare already considered cursed—hit the target. Upon checking:
“Oh! Without looking! Look, it hit the second ring. To think I’m so good I can hit the target while looking at the ugly face of a commoner… I must truly be exceptional to pull off such a feat.”
Flare nearly cracked her teeth at that moment. Without thinking much, she grabbed the next arrow and began aiming.
The princess, meanwhile, yawned beside her, as if simply watching the valkyrie try was enough to make her sleepy.
Flare shot. This time, she hit the target.
She sighed, satisfied.
“Very well, now it’s my turn again. Want me to tie one of my hands behind my back to make it fairer? No? Yeah, it wouldn’t change the result,” Ely said, aiming again with the same little tics and her tongue caught between her lips.
And she hit the target, much closer to the center than Flare.
“Hahaha! I’m so unbelievable it’s ridiculous! Not funny at all!”
“Wretch…” the valkyrie thought plainly.
How could she barely lift an axe yet shoot perfectly? And be so arrogant it hurt the soul? Flare had to restrain herself from smashing the bow on Ely’s head.
Returning to a stoic expression, she grabbed another arrow, making sure to aim better this time.
“Hey, listen,” the princess said, leaning closer to observe. “You need to raise your elbows higher. And try not to twist your wrists, that awful way you’ve been doing since you started.”
Flare tried to ignore her.
“You’re aiming too high, common Flare… you’ll miss again like that… Oh no, wait. Is your goal to miss? How tragic…”
Flare released the arrow. It spun through the air and, although it hit the target, it didn’t have enough force to penetrate it, so it fell off.
“HAHAHAHA! AGAIN!” the princess cackled. “What kind of technique is that? The ‘hit-and-drop’ arrow? I’ve never heard of such a technique, and I’ve practiced archery since I was little… Bravo, bravo!”
“To hell with this. I’m leaving,” the valkyrie growled, throwing her bow on the ground and walking toward her axe.
“Wait!” Ely said dramatically. “You don’t want to be humiliated again? All right, all right, I get it! I’ll try to miss on purpose this time, okay? But I can’t promise anything, because I’m so good that sometimes the arrows curve on their own and hit the target…”
Flare had completely lost her patience and her motivation to train.
She would rather deal with a dozen small children than with a single Ely.
How old was that brat? The valkyrie could only think about strangling her, so she walked off to clear her mind.
That girl Ely had truly ruined her day.
“See you later, valkyrie of the ‘crooked axe and loose arrow’! Come back whenever you want to lose again! Oh, and don’t forget to watch me in the tournament and tell everyone I defeated you mercilessly. Hey, I’m talking!”
Flare simply kept walking, leaving her talking to herself. “I swear I’m going to train like mad, just to defeat that brat…”