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"Hey, Jones!" A voice rang out through the training area. The sun caused sweat to bead on Michael's forehead as he turned to whoever was calling him.
The person doing so was Ray, his friend. "What're you doing out here?" He shouted back. They walked closer to each other before giving each other the warm hug, despite the heat, that they usually did.
"I was going to go tend to the garden." Ah, yes. Michael had almost forgotten that the teen was a gardener AND beginner swordsman. He hadn't seen the guy cut the bushes and trim the roses before. "But seeing you makes me have something else in mind..."
"Whatever could that be?" The older teen smirked.
"Let's get the swords."
"You're fucking on."
They eventually retrieved the wooden swords and got into the sparring area once more. The outdoors' breeze sent their hair whipping in the wind, yet their gaze was fixed on each other. The other servants gathered around, including their friends Lindsay, Barbara, and Kerry.
"Ready, you rose-loving bastard?" Michael jested.
This caused Ray to shrug. "Whenever you are, Mogar the Moron."
This triggered the battle. Michael charged, taking on more of an offensive position. Ray, often defense, immediately fell into the role. He dodged the attack, light on his feet. Michael swung his sword broadly around, only catching a bit of Ray's side before the gardener backed up once more. When he was far enough away, Ray attempted to advance, swinging at his friend with a downwards slash. Michael took a half step to the right, and his wooden sword connected with Ray's side. The younger teen winced a bit, giving Michael his window. He took the chance to move in and get into a stalemate with his friend. Their swords clashed and stayed put, their force almost the same.
Almost.
Michael exerted himself enough so that he pushed his friend backwards, sending him stumbling. Another threatening swing of his sword, and Ray was on the ground. Michael head the tip of his sword to the younger teen's throat, and claps came from the small crowd.
"Eh, you were always the better fighter anyways." Ray said as Michael helped him up.
The older of the two dusted Ray off with a grin. "Don't sell yourself short, Narvaez. You'd prove your worth in real battle for sure." He patted his shoulder. "Need help in the garden?"
---
The clang of metal against metal bounced off the acoustics of the walls. Michael held his ground, not planning on letting Ray get past the doors and into King Geoff's throne room. Ever since the younger man had been forced into King Ryan's ranks, they haven't heard word from each other. Now, they had to test where their loyalty laid.
It wasn't an easy battle to fight.
"Ray, you know I cannot-" Michael dodged a quick jab from his former friend. "I cannot let you into that fucking room!"
The younger of the two knew that all too well. "Show me, then!" He tried to block off all memories he had of them being friends. If he didn't, he would take the fall without a question. "Show me your God damn loyalty!" He shouted harshly before attempting to slash Michael's head right off his neck.
The knight managed to evade Ray's attempt, and try to reason with him once more. "Leave me be, and this can end well for both of us!"
"It won't end well for me until my King is victorious!" Another jab that Michael worked his way around. "What's the matter? Did you lose your touch?" Ray was looking for a reaction.
Michael gave him one. With a growl, he swung and Ray, who jumped out of the way. He advanced once again, and again. Eventually, Ray's back was to the wall, and he blocked Michael's slash. The swords were crossed like an X. Both of them weren't letting up. They faced each other, both filled with adrenaline. Their faces were both expressing feelings of frustration and rage. Suddenly, Ray stopped thinking mindlessly...
And remembered.
As soon as he did so, his weakness was shown. He managed to push Michael away, who only took a second to recover and come at him again. At this point, Ray wasn't focused on the task at hand. He was focused on their past friendship. Their shared laughs, their multiple play fights, even their seldom-known secrets...
What he didn't know was that Michael was remembering too.
Ray was kicked to the ground eventually, weak from battle. His sword fell out of reach. He stayed there, ready to accept whatever came next.
What he didn't expect was to be picked up by the collar again.
"Ray, this is your last chance..." Michael spoke seriously and very clearly. His eyes focused onto his former friend's, his sword pointed at Ray's stomach. "Walk away. Leave and never come back."
Ray shook his head, blood beginning to drip down from his nose. "You know I can't do that, moron..." Somehow, he managed a smirk.
To his own dismay, Michael knew. "I'm so sorry..." He apologized before plunging his sword through Ray. The younger man barely made a sound as he was impaled, his head tilting back and eyes becoming lifeless.
Once the job was fully done, the bloody sword was pulled out. Michael threw it down and hugged the lifeless Ray, clinging to it as his body shook. Tears ran down his cheeks and stained Ray's shoulder. The man shook his head at his sin, the weight of it almost too much for him to carry. He looked up at nothing, screaming in internal pain and mourning for his friend.