BED OF THORNS

WAR

Renzo stood in the centre of his chambers, tall and regal, his dark hair falling in waves around his shoulders. His eyes were a deep, piercing blue, and they seemed to glow with an inner light. As he gazed into the mirror, he saw his father enter the room, his face grave and serious.

"Renzo," his father said,

"The entire kingdom is counting on you. You are their hero, their champion, and their hope. You must not fail them."

"I promise not to fail the kingdom, Father,"

As Renzo spoke, a strange, half-smile played about his lips, one that seemed almost mocking in its intensity. It was as if he was daring the universe to challenge him, as if he knew something that no one else did. There was a wildness in his eyes, a hint of something dark and dangerous, as if he was a wolf ready to pounce. It was unsettling, but also strangely compelling. Renzo's father stood before him, his face sombre.

"The entire council will be there to watch you fight, and the warriors of the kingdom will be there to cheer you on. I also would be there to see the fight. We have faith in you, and you should not let us down. You are the best fighter, the strongest and the fiercest. It is time to show them what you are made of."

Renzo nodded, his eyes blazing with determination.

"You should leave before dawn, we would all be behind you,"

He said with a tone of finality patting him on the shoulder.

Renzo approached the large chest in the corner of his room, carefully opening it and beginning to pack his supplies. He placed a waterskin filled with cool, fresh water in a small bag. He placed his bedroll on top, along with a small knife and some flint and tinder for starting a fire. Finally, he picked up his shining armour and placed it in the chest, along with his sword, its hilt gleaming in the dim light of the room.

Renzo walked over to the table, his fingers reaching for the small wooden box that sat upon it. He carefully lifted the lid, revealing a simple but beautiful amulet, its surface polished to a gleaming sheen. It had been a gift from his mother, and he had worn it during every battle since. It was his good luck charm, and he never went into battle without it. He reached for it now, clasping it around his wrist, the cool metal against his skin a reassuring reminder of his Mother.

Renzo made his way to the barn, his boots crunching on the gravel path. The night air was cool and still, the stars shining brightly in the sky. As he neared the barn, he could hear Luffy's gentle whinny, a sound that always brought him comfort.

Inside the barn, he found Luffy munching on some hay, his soft brown eyes fixed on Renzo.

"Don't be scared Luffy, it's a simple fight,"

Renzo said with a smirk.

As Renzo emerged from the barn, leading Luffy by the reins, he was met by a crowd of women and children, all eager to see him off. The women smiled and clapped, singing a soft and melodic song bearing Renzo's name. The children waved flags and cheered, their faces alight with excitement.

Renzo's heart swelled with pride, and he felt a sense of determination like never before. He knew that he was not just fighting for himself, but for his entire kingdom.

As the first light of dawn began to seep through the windows, Renzo mounted his horse, Luffy, his armour glinting in the new light. With a gentle nudge of his heels, he set off at a brisk pace, the horse's hooves falling rhythmically on the cobblestones. As he passed beneath the city gates, the sun finally broke through the trees, its rays bathing him in a warm, golden light. Renzo felt a sense of peace and strength, knowing that he was about to embark on a journey that would test him to his very limits.

****

As Renzo approached the battlefield, he could hear the roar of the crowd. His people stood on one side, cheering him on, their faces filled with hope and pride. On the other side, the crowd cheered for his opponent, Malik. The two armies faced each other, the tension thick in the air. Renzo took a deep breath, with a smile playing on his lip.

As Renzo scanned the crowd, his eyes fell on her. There, standing in the midst of the crowd, was Eleni, her eyes shining with love and pride.

As Renzo gazed across the battlefield, a hush fell over the crowd. A lone figure emerged from the opposing army, the king of Placto, his face set in a stern expression. He strode to the centre of the field, his robes billowing in the wind. He raised his hand, and the crowd fell silent, all eyes fixed upon him.

"The time has come for battle!" he cried, his voice ringing out across the plain. "Let the mightiest warrior win!"

The crowd roared in response, their cheers echoing across the landscape. The battle was about to begin.

As the crowd's roar died down, the silence was broken by the sound of metal scraping against metal. Renzo's opponent, Malik, drew his sword and held it aloft, the blade gleaming in the sunlight. He took a step forward, his eyes fixed on Renzo, his face a mask of determination. With a sudden flick of his wrist, he swung his sword, the blade slicing through the air.

"Raaaaaa,"

The fight had begun.

Malik charged forward, his sword pointed directly at Renzo's heart.

"I have never liked you,

Malik said, almost whispering.

Renzo braced himself, his muscles tensing. As Malik's sword came down, Renzo brought his own sword up in a powerful arc, the two blades colliding with a deafening crash. The force of Renzo's blow sent Malik staggering back, his grip on his sword slipping. With a groan, he sank to the ground, unconscious. Renzo stood over him, breathing heavily, his chest heaving. He had won the battle, but the war was far from over. There was a loud cheer from the king, council and warriors of Dractino land.

As Renzo turned away from the battlefield, he spotted a woman standing in the crowd, her eyes fixed on him. It was Malik's mother, the queen, her face pale and drawn. She clutched at her chest, her eyes filled with sorrow. Renzo's heart ached as he saw the pain in her eyes. He knew that Malik was more than just a warrior to her, he was her son, and she had lost him in battle. Renzo felt a pang of guilt, he shouldn't be feeling that way but he couldn't help it.

The king of Plato was livid, his face contorted with rage. He stormed towards the king of Dractino, his eyes blazing with fury.

The two kings stood face to face, their nations on the brink of war. The air was electric, and the tension was palpable.

"This battle is not yet over."