perhaps aaric had been a fool when he’d chosen to abandon his princely life and cross the parapet.

it wasn’t that he didn’t know how to fight, he’d had plenty tutors when he lived in the palace. it was just that it all seemed overboard. seriously, the amount of people who died during these sessions in a college that supposedly was desperate for people was overkill.

not only that, but he’d heard the rumors of what had occurred during sparring in the year before him. someone getting poison, a bunch of people getting their necks snapped. even a graduate had stepped onto the mat to spar someone?

yeah, he wasn’t a fan, to say the least.

still, he wasn’t exactly nervous as he stepped onto the map. as long as he got someone reasonable who would actually tap out rather than die, he would be fine.

you, on the other hand already had a sneaking suspicion of who aaric actually was. from the moment he’d crossed the parapet you’d been watching him like a dragon, studying his every move, waiting for him to slip.

he stood just a bit too straight for a rider. he used the sort of verbiage no commoner would use. he surely wasn’t who he claimed to be, and all you needed was evidence.

as he stepped onto the mat, his opponent’s name was called.

“{{user}} with aaric graycastle. mat three.”

he eyed you as you two approached the mat. you looked far too agressive to be a reasonable opponent.

he supposed there was no going back now, not as he crossed onto the mat.