Prompt - Write a mashup of historical fiction and action in 1.2k words.

Once again, I had triumphed over my opponent. The crowd cheered loudly for me, their next king, as there were all kinds of slogans being shouted from all directions. I acknowledged their devotion with a nod and a smile, and turned to face my parents, who gave me their blessings from the high seat they were situated in.

The arena for fights in our kingdom had the best amenities – with seating arrangements for at least a thousand people, and mirror beams at every angle to make sure the area never gets engulfed in darkness. During the day, it reflects the rays of the sun, and at night, the sweet silvery moonlight graces the arena.

As soon as I woke up today, Matashri had visited me in my chamber. She gave me some misthaan, which is a sweet dish of curd mixed with sugar, given before every big event in our life. She also told me that today was the most important day in my life, as I had to prove to the subjects, that I am capable of becoming an able and just king.

All my life, being an only child, that was all I had heard. From my parents, my cousins, uncles, aunts, everyone told me that one day, I will become a justice loving king. Pitashri was extremely proud of me, and utterly protective too. And I too, firmly believed in all their words, until there came  guruji, a teacher who challenged and questioned all of my beliefs, and made me feel worthless.

It seemed like a Himalayan task to spend five years with a person who could ruin every existence of my confidence in minutes. It seemed like forever. But there was only one factor which made me agree – Pitashri's utmost firm belief in him. The experience was even worse. I was made to do all those tasks which I wouldn't even allow my royal  sevak to do.

I was made to clean, fetch wood from forests that contained at least a dozen Rakshasas, cook food, give Guruji a massage – it was terrible. The first year went by in absolute pain. I was not living the life of a prince, but of a saint, and I absolutely abhorred it.

Five years later, as I stood in the arena as an actually courageous fellow, I smiled unconsciously. My fame all over the country, praises sung of my strength and determination, and countless stories that told about my just self, was all the hard work of one person, Guruji. I was no longer resistant, no longer vexed. He had been a blessing in disguise for me.

All the small competitions had finished, and now, only the last one remained. With my eyes glued to the entrance of the arena, I waited impatiently for the gold plated doors to open up, so that I could see the visage of the person who made me a real ruler.

A beat later, the doors opened, and in walked the man who made me. Clad in a white dhoti with silver lining, he walked towards the center of the ground, his matted locks flying in the air. His face was sharp and radiant, as if cut from a diamond, and his dark eyes had a calm yet fierce look in them. The red tilak on his forehead was a symbol of his unrestrained knowledge.

As he neared me, I bent to the ground to touch his feet and take his blessings. 'Ayushman bhava. Vijayi bhava.' He granted me his best wishes and proceeded to fold hands in front of the king. After the due respect were paid, he proclaimed in front of the whole crowd,

"Today, you have all gathered here to witness the most historic moment in the entire history of the Kushas. Today, a disciple will compete with his guru, and he will prove to all of you, that he is indeed, worthy of becoming the next emperor. I, Rishi Chaitramani, have full faith in my disciple, Devacharan, that he will win this bout."

Another huge round of applause sounded throughout, the deafening noice giving me more and more confidence. Guruji turned around to face me with a fond smile and said, "Pick up your weapon Vatsa. Show them your power."

I nodded enthusiastically and drew out my sword, while Guruji chanted a mantra which magically produced a shiny sword out of thin air. The fight started instantly, as we circled around the perimeter of the round arena, keeping our eyes on each other like a hawk. I decided to put an end to the wait and charged forward. My first stroke was blocked by his powerful sword, my second stroke was blocked as he ducked down to avoid the blow, and soon, the only sound in the arena was of the two pieces of metal clinging and clashing against each other like a serene and sweet tune.

I had, at first, rejected the idea of fighting with my Guruji. It was a crime for me, to raise my weapon in front of the man who taught me how to use them. I felt lost, and disgraceful, but Guruji quietened me down. He told me the essence and the significance of this event in history. Any disciple who challenges his master, and manages to emerge victorious, was a gift from the heavens, and would be cherished by all as not just the king of his nation, but also of the whole country. He would become the emperor, I had read. It was a difficult decision for me to take, but I had no choice but to obey Guruji.

I made a quick move of distracting him with a slash of my sword, and while he ducked, I gave him a hard kick in his chest. It sent him staggering back, and gave me more leverage. Not wasting a single second, I jumped high, with the intention of bringing the sword down on his head, but he blocked it with his own. The reaction and the friction was so violent, that both of our swords fell out of our hands and onto the sand a few feet away.

According to the warfare rules, once you drop a weapon, you shouldn't pick it up if you're a brave warrior, as that is only for the lilly-livered. And so, we started a hand-to-hand combat. Both of us were, by now, mildly injured, with some cuts on our arms and my red dhoti becoming a darker red with my blood mixed in it.

Our hands intertwined with each other almost immediately, as the struggle for victory begun. My Guruji wasn't going easy on me, as he had promised, which pleased me greatly. That action showed his faith in me. After a rigorous battle of about twenty minutes, I climbed on top of my Guruji, and locked his arms and legs in a way he couldn't get out. He might have more knowledge and years of experience than me, but those years brought old age too, and that worked greatly in my favor.

I was set to become the next emperor.