The House of Shadai was fractured.

The Marchioness of House Shadai had been married off to House Symboli’s Kaminari-no-Kōtei, “for love” or so she claimed. The heiress-apparent, by rights the inheritor of Shadai’s lands, knew better. In truth, the Symboli Fiefdom had been eyeing Shadai’s territories for some time now, and Marchioness Air Groove’s noble heritage and claim to the throne had proved sufficient cassus belli to rally the Kōtei’s men-at-arms to seize the border forts.

Durandal and Air Groove descended from the same absolute monarch, Northern Taste, or, as she had been known in the east, Akikawa Yayoi. She had been a benevolent and well-respected ruler, fair-handed in all things, but her sudden disappearance and the rightful Empress’ marriage to the Kōtei had left the line of succession in a state of turmoil - a turmoil they could ill-afford, with the Symboli Fiefdom’s steady and consistent incursion. While many of her family members vied for the crown, it was Durandal herself that held the holy sword, and as a result, it was she who had the most legitimate claim to the throne, at least now that Air Groove was disqualified. Not all of her family were in agreeance with this, and so the war raged on.

All of this was just background noise, however. Durandal was not a politician, she was a warrior. This holy blade of hers, carved with her name, bestowed on her not divine right of succession, but a Goddesses-ordained duty. She would end this war, she must end this war.

The rain-slick ground surrounding Fort Carle had meant extra danger for the troops, and poor conditions for assaulting such a well-defended encampment. And yet…! Durandal had been a reckless fool. She had been the one to insist on today to stage their assault. It had to be today…! On this day, both the Empress and the Kōtei were occupying the fort, which meant that if they succeeded, Durandal and her knights could behead both snakes at once and end the war in one fell swoop! One swift strike, and all claims would be laid to rest, and no more lives would need to be lost! If they had only succeeded…! Worse still, it had not even been a performance worthy of seeing the Kōtei’s face. Weary, surrounded by the beautiful and expansive gardens of Fort Carle, now spattered with blood and mud, Durandal found herself the only Uma left standing, amongst hundreds of dead or injured soldiers… She desperately hoped the former was more true. For all her tyranny, the Kōtei was known to never leave an Uma to die on the battlefield if they could be saved… At least there was that.

Durandal cursed her ill-luck for banking on the mercy of the foreign ruler. Not in this moment. Not while she still drew breath.

Her legs were weary, but as she glanced at the holy sword in her hands, she felt reinvigorated. She still drew breath. As long as breath filled her lungs, she would allow hope to fill her heart.

Taking a stabilizing breath, Durandal raised the sword above her head, shouting as loud as she could muster.

“Symboli Rudolf! I challenge you to one-on-one combat! Let us end this farce and stop this bloodshed!” Through a brief part in the rainclouds, a ray of sunlight shone on her holy blade. Though everything around her was caked in mud, somehow this blade alone remained spotless, reflecting the light easily. Still, the rain poured down around her just as loudly as ever.

Silence from the fort. Of course, the Symboli forces had already successfully defended against the Shadai assault. While they had lost many footsoldiers, the fort itself was unscathed and unbreachable. There was little reason for them to open the door now. Holy sword or no, Durandal could not siege Fort Carle all by herself. For several minutes, only the rain could be heard, and Durandal’s repeated challenge echoing toward the sky.

Then, rumbling thunder.

A flash of lightning on the horizon signalled that the weather was about to get significantly worse. Still, recklessly, Durandal raised her sword even higher, repeating her challenge for a third time. “Symboli Rudolf! I challenge you! Or are you too craven!”

The drawbridge began to lower with a thunderous rumble. Stepping out into the open was not Symboli Rudolf, to Durandal’s disappointment, but the owner of Fort Carle by blood, Air Groove. In all the muck and the rain, her appearance was as flawless as ever, wearing a broach of yellow tansy. Stark red eyeliner contrasted her cool blue eyes, giving an even more harsh and noble impression than she already possessed. An ornate rapier hung by her side, the full hilt of her sword was always woven with living flowers each morning, and had been so today. The elegant metal today was tied with a sprig of arborvitae. Durandal had been neglectful during her classes regarding floriography, but she was certain these choices had been made intentionally, whatever they meant. Air Groove had never done a single thing by accident in her life, and would not have started now.

“Rudolf! Coward! Face me!” Durandal called to the inside of the fort, her voice hoarse from yelling. If she could just battle Symboli Rudolf, then surely…

“Cousin. Cease your yelling, you shame yourself.” Harsh words, and not the first time that Durandal had heard them. When they had been children together, Air Groove had often chided her for her energy, as though she was that much older. Always the dutiful older cousin, always instructing the younger children on how to be proper Ladies… It was thanks to Air Groove’s teachings that Durandal had been able to call herself a true Knight, and learned to act with honour and integrity.

“Is the Kaminari-no-Kōtei truly so cowardly that she sends her bride to fight her battles?”

Air Groove sighed, resting her fingertips on her forehead as she wearily shook her head. “This is a family matter, Durandal. Rudolf need not be involved. Whether you realize it or not, your feud is with me, not her.” She glanced around at the gardens, many of which were a mess from the skirmish. “...And besides, if it was not already my fight, you’ve stained the gardens. It will take me weeks to prune the damage. It has become my fight.”

Durandal reaffirmed her grip on her blade as another peal of thunder rolled across the empty battlefield. “I do not wish to fight you, Cousin, but I will defend our homeland.”

“I do not wish to fight you, Cousin, but I will repay blood for blood. My soldiers, and my chrysanthemums, will be avenged.”

“...Then draw your sword.”

The two Umamusume stood on opposite ends of the flower-lined path to the Fort. If Air Groove was able to force Durandal to retreat, then the knight would not be likely to make another assault any time soon, and the outlands would be as good as hers. If Durandal was able to defeat Air Groove, then the Kōtei would be forced out of the fort and could give her the satisfaction that she demanded.

Then, it was all down to this. One flash of lightning on the horizon, and the subsequent thunderclap signalled the start of their duel. 

Durandal, stained with blood and mud, rushed forward; Air Groove, looking as though the rain could not even touch her, stood her ground, parrying Durandal’s initial swing with a flick of her rapier, driving the heavier sword into the dirt. Durandal responded by slamming her shoulder into her opponent, driving them both away from each other.

Air Groove closed the distance quickly, stabbing at Durandal’s center mass, but it was deflected by the knight’s hardy breastplate. The two stepped back and took stock of each other once more. Then, it was Air Groove that again made the first move, with a slash that was too high to be blocked in time, slicing across Durandal’s cheek. She could immediately feel the sting, but she was thankful that it hadn’t cut deeper. Still, it would leave a scar. If she made it out of this alive.

In response, Durandal swung out with her blade once more, in a more calculated arc. Air Groove once more attempted to parry, but the strike was too heavy, and Durandal’s blade bit into her shoulder, causing blood to immediately bloom and stain her light clothing. Still, no pain showed on her face.

“Surrender, that wound will be the end of you if you aggravate it.”

Air Groove took a deep breath. “Then I won’t aggravate it. I don’t flail my arms wildly like you. Tuck in your elbows, your form has always been amateurish.”

Must you insist on playing the role of older cousin even now? Durandal bit her lip, but pulled in her elbows all the same. Good advice was good advice.

“Then if you won’t stand down…” Durandal swung her holy blade wide, but it was too slow, the lightly-armored Air Groove danced backwards and countered with a quick swipe across her thigh. She didn’t need to look down to known that this was a serious wound, and one that would quickly restrict her movement. Impeded movement against such a mobile fighter was a death sentence, which meant that she needed to end things right this minute.

Rather than stepping back to get a proper swing, Durandal stepped forward, throwing Air Groove off balance. There was no room to attack with her holy blade, so instead she settled on the next best thing she could think of, gripping Air Groove’s collar and bringing her head down as hard as she could manage. There was no time for her older cousin to react, except to (assumedly) curse her own folly, as helmet met skull. Durandal was a medium-armoured knight, and Air Groove had stepped out in only duelist’s gear, so there was only one possible result of this strike.

CLANG

The impact was intense, and while Durandal felt her head swim, she had gotten the far better end of the exchange. The intensity quickly left Air Groove’s eyes as she faded into unconsciousness, muttering her last words. “Cousin… do not hurt her… please…”

A plea for her captor’s life? At this juncture? No, do not question your resolve here. There is one more enemy in front of you.

Durandal, wounded, and soaked through to the bone, took her cousin’s unconscious (but living) form and laid her off to the side, among the flowers. The moment her body hit the soil, the loudest thunderclap yet rang across the battlefield. It was close now. She was close now.

After only a few seconds a spear of lightning struck the ground directly in front of Durandal, causing mud and rocks to tear themselves from the path. Durandal felt the vibration in her boots and shielded herself from the debris, and as she looked back toward the fort, there she was.

The Symboli Empire’s Kaminari-no-Kōtei, the Lightning Emperor. Symboli Rudolf.

She strode forward in her heavy gilded plated armor, onto the drawbridge, ornate two-handed katana already drawn, inscribed with the runes of the Symboli Clan. Her helmet bore a green five-pointed crown motif, her clan’s crest, as if declaring herself the ruler of all. One heavy step, and then another, and she held her sword up to the sky. Lightning once again crashed down onto the battlefield, this time onto that raised sword, which crackled with brilliant energy as the electricity dispersed. The boom of thunder seemed to declare to all present:

BEHOLD THINE EMPEROR’S DIVINE MIGHT

“You called, and I have come before you.” Her voice didn’t sound anything like Durandal expected. She sounded… warm, in a way. She had expected the leader of the Symboli Clan to sound heartless, ambitious, cold. Not like this… student council president type of voice. Nevertheless, the authority in her declaration was unmistakable and demanded a response.

Durandal steadied herself, ignoring the pain in her leg. “Symboli Rudolf, I have bested all of your soldiers, and I have defeated the human shield you sent before me. Are you finally ready to face this holy sword of mine? Or will you raise the white flag and retreat from our lands? Will you cease this relentless and bloody march?!”

Rudolf glanced at the sleeping form of Air Groove with a grimace. “Human shield? Is that what you think? Little wonder your soldiers lost here, as will you. You cannot hope to take me on with such a half-hearted understanding of the world. You are naive, Princess. Go home.”

Gritting her teeth, Durandal redoubled her grip on her holy blade, which shared her name. “Telling me to go home… when you and your kind invade my homeland. Your hubris will be your downfall, Kaminari-no-Kōtei.”

Symboli Rudolf sighed and lowered the visor of her helmet, obscuring her face, and leaving only intimidating steel on its place. “When you lose to me, you shall be forced to listen.” She took one more step out from the drawbridge as thunder roared once more, and she raised the Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi above her head. “Come, Durandal of Shadai, let me see your best!”

Durandal stepped forward onto the drawbridge to meet her opponent and eyed her warily, looking for any opening. The Emperor had the advantage of heavy armor, and the advantage of range. There was no clean way to approach. No matter how she looked at it, any attempt to step forward would be met with a crushing overhead swing, locking her firmly out of reach. 

O Holy Blade… light my way.

A prayer that she had chanted many times in the past, but meant quite literally in this moment. She stood ready, waiting for a sign. After a tense moment, her sign arrived. The smallest possible split had formed between clouds, and a thin ray of bright daylight shone down on the drawbridge from behind Durandal, shining directly into Symboli Rudolf’s eyes. While some light would be blocked by the visor, it wouldn’t be enough. Now was the time!

Durandal charged ahead, seizing the element of surprise, and cutting at Rudolf with a low upward strike across her body. The Kōtei had not been so distracted as she’d hoped however, as the lightning blade crashed down towards her. Whether the visor had blocked more light than she’d thought, or whether the Emperor was just that keen, there was no way to know. There was also no way to avoid getting hit, Durandal felt it in her bones. One way or the other, this battle would be ended in one strike.

A few more steps, and Durandal ended past Rudolf on the drawbridge, sword poised high in the air from the followthrough to her slash. Symboli Rudolf was leaned forward with the tip of her huge katana resting against the ground from her own followthrough. For a long moment, nothing moved, it felt as though the time itself had stopped, and the rain had abated with it. That split in the clouds grew wider, as more and more sunlight illuminated the drawbridge, the front wall of the fort, and the gardens as well. Despite being muddied and bloodied and trampled upon, the flowers had seemingly been thankful for the rain, and reached gratefully now towards the rays of light.

Pain suddenly blossomed from Durandal’s back, as a massive wound opened up which brought her to her knees. Had she lost?

She glanced back towards her opponent just in time to watch the Ame-no-Murakumo-no-Tsurugi clatter to the ground and Symboli Rudolf drop to her knees only to fall prone on the ground, blood dripping from the cracks in her heavy armour. Despite her grievous wounds, Durandal had won. The Emperor was defeated. The sun shone down over the fort, heralding a close victory for the Shadai Knights.

“O holy blade… thank you for guiding me to victory, for justice and honour.”

Her head was spinning, and her wounds would need immediate treatment, but she had won. Durandal got to her feet shakily, propping herself up on her sword. She was about to march into the fort, but a voice halted her in her tracks.

“Honour? Is that what you call this crusade of yours?”

Air Groove had awakened and rushed to Symboli Rudolf’s side. Not to her own cousin, to the warlord who had stolen her from her family!

“Cousin! It’s over now, we need not fight! I’ve won! You don’t need to stay married to that tyrant!”

“That tyrant is the love of my life!” Air Groove shouted, with what little energy she could muster. While the rain had stopped, her hair was slick against her head now, and her pout clearly declared her declining mood. She had tears pooling at the corners of her eyes.

Durandal limped over to the pair as Air Groove was desperately trying to remove Rudolf’s cuirass to stop the bleeding. Without thinking about it, the holy knight helped her, and together they managed to keep the wound closed long enough for Air Groove to make an impromptu bandage from pieces of her shirt. At a glance, she would need severe medical attention before too long, but the urgency had faded for the moment.

“Love…?” Durandal couldn’t believe her ears. “No… no, that was just a facade, you were taken for your lands and titles…”

Her older cousin placed a hand on her face again, distraught. “Is that what they told you? Those meddling chancellors… No, Durandal. I chose to marry Rudolf.”

She couldn’t believe her ears. “But… the incursion… The Emperor crossed our borders illegally…”

Air Groove shook her head again. “No, she didn’t. Fort Carle belonged to my mother Dyna Carle, and thus by rights, it is still mine. Or have I been so abandoned by Shadai that they’re seizing my summer home from me? Was the crown not enough?”

It seemed impossible. Could Durandal have been in the wrong? No, but then this battle… “Why bring so many soldiers here, then? If this was just a trip to your ‘summer home’ why were there so many soldiers stationed here?”

With the deepest sigh yet, Air Groove’s ears folded downwards crossly. “I’d tell you to ask this fool, if she were awake. I told her that bringing her idea of a ‘guard contingent’ was a bad idea, but she insisted that even this wasn’t nearly enough soldiers to defend my honour. I suppose such a large detachment probably sent the wrong signals, so I hope she learned her lesson.”

“This feels too intense for a simple misunderstanding. How could we have drawn our blades for such a foolish reason?”

Her cousin reached out and ruffled Durandal’s matted blonde hair. “Would you have listened for less? I think not, Cousin. I have only known you to be headstrong. Unfortunately for the two of us, you’ve also grown powerful. We underestimated you. I fear for your real enemies once you ascend the throne.”

My real enemies… Durandal suddenly felt light-headed at the thought. So much blood spilled, against an enemy that wasn’t even real. It was all too much.

“Dura! Hey, Durandal!” Air Groove’s voice was the only thing she could hear as her vision faded and she collapsed onto the rain-soaked ground, muddy and wet, but with a song of glory in her heart. She had really defeated the Emperor… she had won…

“Durandal! Durandal!”

“Honestly, you’ll catch cold like that. How neglectful of your own health. That trainer of yours, always letting you overwork yourself. I’ve a mind to have a word with her.”

Air Groove scowled down at the curled up form of Durandal, nestled among the flowers in the school courtyard. She had been assigned to help with the gardening club for one week, and she had taken it so seriously that she was really passing out in the middle of a rainy day? Pulling her inside of the clubroom, Air Groove sent a text message to Durandal’s roommate, Calstone Light O.

“Miss Calstone, could you please make your way to the gardening club? I need your assistance taking Durandal to the infirmary.”

“Understood! I’ll come straight there!”

Looking at her classmate caked in mud, Air Groove sighed and couldn’t help but reach out and pat her blonde locks, sure not to wake her up.

“I hope you’re at least having a sweet dream.”