Lay the Dragon v2 (18+ NSFW)

Arland walked out of the inn he had been staying in with Leera. He made his way out to the courtyard where a man stood, tall and fit, dressed in chainmail. He wasn't overly muscular, but Arland had seen him fight before. He was fast, but his movements were telegraphed.

Arland stood before his opponent, dressed in his normal cotton tunic and leather armor. He stood only to Teit's chest.

He locked eyes with the man, "You accepted this, Teit? I won't be holding back. You're certain that chain will be enough?"

Teit glared at him, "Damn right I accepted. I was offered the chance to teach a young upstart a lesson. And besides, you're a child. even this chain will be too much. I could be out here nude and win just as easily."

Arland grunted as he drew his sword, "Then let's start. Father, would you care to do the honors? Or would you rather defer to Leera on this?"

Harald, standing nearby, stepped forward, "Yeah, defer yet one more thing to that elven bitch."

Arland bristled, "I'll make you eat those words, Father. Let's start."

Harald held his hand up. He looked to Teit, who nodded. He looked to Arland, who nodded. Harald brought his hand down and backed away. Arland remained in place as Teit rushed in, slashing across with his sword.

Arland, seeing the attack coming, dodged to the side and cut through the air, his sword meeting Teit's. Arland raised his sword. Teit's hissed along the blade, flying harmlessly above Arland's head.

Teit stepped back and drew his second weapon, a dagger. He drew his hand back and threw the short blade. It spun hilt over point.

Arland swiped up with his sword, knocking the dagger up. As it reached the zenith of its arc, Arland spun, catching the point behind his back. He finished his spin, using the momentum to increase the flight speed as he threw the weapon back at Teit.

Teit's eyes widened as he saw the artful parry, catch and return. He leaped to the side as the dagger flew past him.

Arland smiled, "Not bad, Teit."

Teit's expression darkened. He growled as he stepped back, "Alright, brat. Enough of this! Attack!"

Arland grinned as he heard Leera giggle, "You'll come to regret that before the day is done, Teit."

Arland rushed in and slashed, his sword strike aimed right for Teit's chest. He swept his sword across, knocking the blade free.

Without missing a beat, Arland spun, dropping to the ground and kicking his foot out at Teit's ankle. The kick landed with a sickening crack. He wasn't letting up yet. He continued his spin, jabbing out with the pommel of his sword, finding Teit's stomach.

Arland continued rising, half-swording his blade as he brought the handle back and brought it down on Teit's shoulder, the crossguard digging in between the links of his chain armor. He spun again, picking up momentum as he brought the handle around in a warhammer strike into Teit's ribs.

The resounding crack echoed around the courtyard, turning Harald's face green as Leera looked mildly horrified.

Arland stopped his assault and stood, "I expected you'd put up more of a fight, Teit. I'm ashamed that my father pays you so much..."

Teit gasped for air, struggling to regain his breath, "H-How...?"

Arland sighed, "You're good, Teit. If you're anything like what I've heard, then you're one of the best soldiers in this country. But, you're an amateur compared to a true master. You don't understand the art behind the sword. For you, it's just a mechanical hit-for-hit. That's what I learned from Leera."

The courtyard fell silent for a long moment before Teit groaned, "Damn it..."

Arland grinned, "Not to worry. You'd still got your dignity. I was tempted to keep going, but I think I've proven my point."

Harald sighed, "Yes, yes you have, Arland."

Teit looked up, "My apologies, sir. I underestimated him..."

Harald shrugged, "It would seem you're not the only one. When Leera told me he was a natural, I figured she had been going easy on him. It seems he has a drive to learn that surpasses any I've seen before. Tell me, boy, did Leera teach you that half-sword technique?"

Arland sheathed his blade, "Yeah, she did."

Leera stepped forward, "He picked it up in less than a day and learned to use it effectively by the following day. As I said, The boy is a natural. Having him stand with guards for his post-training would be a waste. He should travel with me. Allow him to train to the level of a swordmaster, rather than a knight, sir. It's truly what's best for him."

Harald twisted his face into anger and opened his mouth to reply when Arland cut him off, "FATHER! You gave your word. If I beat Teit, I'd be allowed to travel with Leera. Is a nobleman's word, not his greatest treasure as you've told me time and time again?"

Harald sighed, "Fine. Be gone. Arland, for your insolence, you're hereby banished from this land for a period of ten-" He glanced at Leera who raised an eyebrow and nodded her head upwards, "- Fifteen years. Do not return to this land in that time!"

Arland sighed, "Very well, father."

Harald turned and strode back towards the manor. Leera and Arland watched him go.

Leera stepped up beside him, "Well, kiddo, it's time to say goodbye. I've got a few errands. Run and say your farewells. It'll be some time before we see this land again."

Arland turned and hugged her, "Thank you, Leera. I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to not call me 'kiddo' from now on."

She smiled, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Go, then. I'll catch up to you soon."

Arland let go and dashed off.

***

Arland looked around the room as he stood near the doorway. He took a deep breath, "Father... I'm sorry for the way things have turned out. I didn't intend for it to go this way."

Harald sat on his throne atop his dais, "It's not your fault, Arland. I've always known that you were special. It's my fault for not seeing just how special you really were, my boy."

Arland approached and knelt down, "I'll abide by your orders, but as it is custom to give an exile a day to pack and say their farewells, I'd like the same right."

Harald shook his head, "I won't hold you to the punishment, my boy. You're welcome back anytime. I spoke in anger and frustration. It's just... Since your mother passed, I've held you and your sister close. And now you're leaving. And should something happen to you, Your sister will be the one taking the duchy."

Arland took a deep breath, "I'll abide by your words, Father. As a duke, your word is your bond. Many servants heard you exile me. They won't take to the nepotism of you allowing me back early. That said, Liza has always been first in line for the throne. She was born before me."

Harald nodded, "That's true. She was in line for the kingdom, but since King Dorian had a son, she has been relegated to taking my place here, when I retire."

"So with me gone, nothing really changes," Arland said.

Harald stood and stepped down from his throne, standing before Arland, "Stand, my boy. With you leaving, everything changes, my son. I'll no longer hear the clash of swords in the courtyard, Leera taunting you, you cursing her... I'll no longer hear you and Liza arguing. You and I may not be as close as we once were, son, but make no mistake. You are still my son. Make sure you write. And my word be damned, if you need me or my help, don't hesitate to break exile and return."

Arland nodded and hugged his father before he turned for the door. He stopped and glanced back, "I'll be dropping the last name while I'm out. Last thing I need is to be seen as an exiled noble."

Harald nodded, "It'll be here waiting for your return, son. Just... promise me you'll be safe. Come back to me in one piece. That's all I ask."

Arland nodded briefly before leaving. He walked out to the garden and went straight to his mother's grave.

He knelt down and placed his hand on the stone, "Mom..." He began, "I love you. And I'll miss you. Don't go terrorizing anyone while I'm gone, alright? Your spirit should remain at rest. I promise I'll write Liza and have her relay my words to you."

"And who says I want to relay your words, dear brother?"

Arland turned to see Liza standing there. She was wearing an armored dress - a fighter's attire consisting of oil-boiled leather plates quilted to dense cloth and draping down to her knees, in a short dress style. It looked heavy, but it provided a fair amount of defense.

She walked up as he stood, "Your black hair looks especially shiny today, Liza."

She smiled at him, tears in her eyes, "I'll miss you, dear brother. I know we argue, but... Well, that was always the highlight of my day. Pushing your buttons and seeing how far you'd let me take it before you snapped."

Arland grinned, "Oh, I'll snap alright. But not today. Today, I'm just glad I'll be able to come back to visit. Now, let's go. Leera is waiting for me."

Liza nodded and walked with Arland, catching up with Leera by the stables. The elf turned and eyed the pair.

"Not to worry, I'm not coming along. I'm just here to see you two off. Father's too proud to show," Liza said, gesturing her thumb at the castle behind her.

Arland sighed in response, "Thank you, sister. For everything."

Liza walked over and hugged him, "You're my brother, Arland. I love you, too. Don't you ever forget that. Now, go. And don't die! I still want to beat you when we're older."

Arland grinned, then looked to Leera, who nodded, mounted, and set off. Arland followed closely behind her. As they left the gate, he turned in his saddle and waved. He took a moment longer to look over the castle and surrounding town, knowing he wouldn't be back for many years.

"Arland, eyes forward. We make for Hatford. We should be there in a week or so. Get ready for life as an adventurer, for your life as a noble's kid ends here. Along similar lines, you won't use your family name until you walk back through those gates, understand?"

Arland looked forward and nodded, "Aye."