James

The warm duvet is pulled away quickly from my grasp as I try to regain the feeling of warmth and satisfaction; something I haven't felt in a long time.

Suddenly I realise that I am awake. And then I remember. I am awake and I instantly wish that I was not.

The morning is creeping under the curtains like it is hunting me. Even the light seems different now. It is greyer, shaping itself into shadows that want to smother me. The bright light from outside shines in, causing the dust particles to dance around the spacious room. I can't help but groan and squeeze my eyes shut tightly.

Tossing to the side, I can't help but mummer, "Go away Xavier," but to my disbelief, another figure stands at my bedside- it is no other than General Barnes, who stares down at me with a judging glare.

"Morning James," his disgruntled voice carries throughout my clouded mind as I try to remember exactly why he is here in the first place.

I slog over to the side, folding my bare legs up to my chest to create the necessary warmth I need to continue this conversation.

"Oh good morning General Barnes, wow what a lovely morning! I can't wait for training today" Thank you so much for giving up your sacred spare time to help achieve my best as I know you have a hectic schedule" his tongue sharply mimics in a high pitched sarcastic tone.

Before I can even react he grabs my ankles and making it look effortless, pulls me off the bed. I land on the floor with a loud thud.

Now my back swells up with muscular discomfort due to my cocoon position in bed. General Barnes, his hickory hair brushed back revealing his crisp blue eyes can only stare down at me with hands on his hands, looking extremely unimpressed.

I mean why shouldn't he? For the past few days I've been staying clear of the public view, only keeping to myself in my bedroom, allowing the four grey walls to suffocate my every thought and breathe as I try to get my head around the fact that any of this is even real.

As I try like a small infant to lift my head upwards, I receive an unnecessary hard blow to the stomach. My blood suddenly cooperates and provides much more than converting stale oxygen into new blood cells as the pain makes me recoil and even gag, mumbling words I never thought I would say to a strong figurehead like Barnes.

"So, are we going to play by the rules and finally get up, or act like a little baby and lie on the floor all day?!"

The favourable option would be to soak up the carpet fibres and allow one or two more tears to fall but knowing that out of all people, General Barnes is here to actually snap me out of this fixated state, tells me that maybe he knows more about Odessa than I do.

With one hefty breath, I manage to turn to my side and get up groggily as he watches my every move.

Instead of patting me on the back and saying, "Good job James, I'm proud of your valiant efforts for finally getting out of bed," he just grumbles, "Meet me in the training hall in five minutes," before he walks away, his gleaming medals shining on his green guard jacket.

His final words are, "And fix your hair, it's an absolute mess" before slamming the door loudly.

I am left alone to contemplate his harsh words but the one thing that occupies my thoughts is that I am thirsty. A chalky residue coats my tongue. I look around the room, at the wardrobes, and the desk, and the window. I can see the grime and residue that marks the window and the clutter of pen and paper from the desk.

I notice my alarm clock flashing 10:27am. I have only slept for seven hours and fourty minutes, which is odd, considering I went to bed at 9 o'clock.

It seems the endless void of bitter sweet dreams has suffocated me to the point I cannot face what can be conjured up in my own mind.

I place on the same pair of black pants and jacket from yesterday. It seems Xavier didn't bother to intrude last night and take away my dirty clothes.

Heading into the bathroom to fix my hair, I can only stare at what is before me. A thin face stares back with stubble and pale lips. His eyes stare back broken and fixated, as if nothing will ever be the same again.

And it won't be. Day in and day out, I've been hoping for news on Odessa, but everyday it is the same. It's like she has disappeared from thin air.

Laughter and red hair. That's the first thing that crosses my mind when I think about her.

I can imagine her in her elegant finery brewing up a storm with her hilarious accusations of fellow men from the courtroom.

Although it seems like she was never one to stir, beforehand she was a wild fire that could never be put out. But now it seems her flames has been extinguished for good.

I splash cold water onto my blotchy skin to cool down the burden that arises from my mind. The constant ticking seems to have taken over every aspect of my life. I can't concentrate on any work, sleep, or let alone anything.

I can only see flashes of her everywhere in every aspect of life; in every room, in the children, even in glossy magazines. She is everywhere.

So maybe I should take advice from General Barnes and just have a moment of forgetting. I mean what could go wrong in an afternoon of forgetting the one thing that has been tormenting my mind for so long?

* * * *

"Come on, come on, get dressed already" General Barnes says as he twirls the foil in his hand. His eyes gleam with mischief. "You need to let out steam, and this is the best way to do it."

I can only stare at him perplexed but also amused.

"Which blade?"

"Sabre" I immediately reply. Barnes raises his eyebrow at my immediate decision. The sabre is usually Barnes' favoured weapon, I typically chose the foil. Neither of us held a decisively longer reach over each other. The lighter weight of the foil made its handling techniques and strategy different, however and knowing Barnes worked more frequently with a sabre gives me a slight advantage during our bouts.

"So you decide to use my sword rather than your own," he chuffs, unknotting one gloved hand through his black hair. "I'm quite surprised by your ill-rational decision," he remarks while fetching the blades.

"You told me to have some fun, so I might as well beat you at the same time" I grin while I tug on the protective clothing.

He throws the sabre at me. I catch it deftly, my hand gripping the handle with ease and familiarity. My lips curl at the fact I was back doing the one thing I loved. Fencing was always a past time I enjoyed; it was the only sport that made father proud to see me succeed in. While Gerard was a pro at archery, he was nothing with a foil. Always tasting defeat, he was never the sort to like losing so he gave it up, giving me the upper hand to train with the guards in their recreational past time and from time to time I often competed against General Barnes; the sort of man who never liked to lose.

We both bring down our masks over our faces and once armed, we take our positions on the floor. Barnes settles into a muscle memory guided stance, relaxed but prime while I crack my wrist and flex my neck before dropping to the proper posture as well.

"Don't go easy on me" Barnes says, his voice a bit muffled under the mask.

"Wouldn't dream of it" I smirk, fully intending to let him have the upper hand, well for a little while. No matter what my mother taught me to always be a gentleman, even if it regarded a fencing dual with a guard.

"Here we go!" he shrills and launches into a series of thrusts and lunges that nearly overwhelms me. I manage to parry, but my earlier lapse in concentration has cost me the round.

"I know what you're doing James and you better stop it right now!" Barnes sighs, holding up his mask to watch me drag myself up from the floor as the last finishing thrust had left me sprawled on the floor.

"As if! I wouldn't dare" I recoil as the second round commences. A second balestra from Barnes almost knocks my sabre from my hand.

"Keep up Blackthorn" thrills Barnes, dancing around me as though en pointe, "you are appallingly turgid"

Barnes makes his footwork look delicate even as he legs to a balestra although his movements are more precise with the small flicks of the wrist which allows him to strike me with the tip of the blade on my side on my chest; a touch that would slide in between ribs and through a lung lobe if this was a real combat.

"You're making this too easy for me" he shouts. "Do you yield?" he shouts again as he parries another thrust and lunges forward. "Oh give me some credit!" I retort dodging his lunge. "If anyone should give up, it should be you!"

"No", he says defiantly. "I want to beat you, I know I can. And you're enjoying this I know you are."

My arm burns but I refuse to relent. "Of course I am enjoying this Barnes"

Barnes takes an early lead, striking me on the opposite arm before I could counter the move. It is always my weak point- parrying against a quick attack- but when Barnes tries it a second time, I am able to fend him off.

Barnes continues to press his attack, moving me backwards on the floor. The sabre isn't just swift in his hand, the sabre is his hand, an extension that blurs through the air while I try my best to offset any legal touches.

After another two points, Barnes backs off a bit to his breath. I pause too.

Another flaw in my style: Not immediately striking an opponent when the opponent is winded. By the time I advance, Barnes has regulated his breathing.

He parries easily—how can someone with the mind he posses be so predictable, always working towards his left side so often?—and then, I strike with an astounding amount of ferocity, swinging with motions that seem too wild to be effective.

The sudden change catches him off guard, and he is only able to ward off a few of the various strikes. The power I put behind them is surprising too, and before I even know it, Barnes is panting again, and backs to the end of the mat. I score three touches, tying the score but do not let up my assault until Barnes manage to counter, startling me out of my attack mindset and I can only retreat.

It is only for a second, however, just enough for Barnes to move closer to the centre of the floor again. Then I am back on the offensive, slashing and pushing, swinging my weapon barely within the limits of the sport.

Through the mesh of my mask I could see Barnes' bright and wide eyes. There is even a flash of a smile. Barnes never looked so animated during one of our matches for a long time.

I could see Barnes is pleased I am enjoying this but a side effect to our long intensifying match is that Barne's age is beginning to show quickly the longer we last. By his sudden wincing I could see his arm aches as he counters the attacks I am raining down on him.

Although Barnes was the one to suggest a duel, he couldn't let me win- he knows the power I have with my smugness and strong reasoning to always remind him who actually won.

I expend massive amounts of energy in my heavy-handed blows as I joke, "How are you doing Barnes? You seem a bit slower than normal"

"I am well, dear James, I'm glad to see you finally making an effort for once"

"I've been hoping to let out some steam, that's all," I simply shrug my shoulders while keeping an eye on Barnes' counter attack. "Besides I've been waiting for this moment, to beat you with style!"

We both laugh, causing us both to pause. Of course, Barnes takes advantage of the distraction to rest, sucking in a deep lungful of air and allowing his blade to dip to the floor.

As my rich laughter dies down, he attacks again, causing me to jump back into action, even as Barnes neutralises the attack with a swift movement, bringing the edge of his blade up from the mat so quickly and under his elbow that I have no way to deflect the motion.

Another point to Barnes, which makes him laugh out loud again.

"What's so funny?" I demand but my only response is Barnes pushing me just as hard as I had pushed him. His small flicks of the wrist versus my more savage, forearm and shoulder movements causes a sudden turn of tables as Barnes strikes me with the tip of the blade on my side on my chest; a touch that would slide in between my ribs and through my lungs if this was a real combat.

He continues to let out another boisterous laugh. "Come on Barnes, what's so funny?"

"You do realise I just won"

Instantly I rip off my mask to concede my shock, even as I scowl at him. He takes off his mask too, revealing a deep set grin as he bites on his bottom lip.

"So much for my chance of bragging rights" I peel off my gloves and wipe off a sheet of sweat on my forehead.

Barnes stands stills and looks at me up and down. "How about celebrating your almost chance of beating me?"

I stare up at him as he takes off his gloves and returns his blade back to its rightful place.

"I'm not so sure Barnes, it's a lovely gesture but with everything going on I don't think it's a good idea...-" I can't even finish my sentence as he returns back to my standing position and places a hand on my shoulder before bluntly replying, "Look James, the past two weeks have been awful, and mind you, you have been dealing with the brunt of it, so why not enjoy a couple of drinks with myself and a few of the other guards? I'm sure they wouldn't mind you tagging along"

Knotting one hand in my hair, I sigh. "Fine, but I'll only go on one strong condition- We cannot tell father about any of this."

Before I can catch Barne's reaction to my sudden condition, a guard rushes in to the spacious hall.

"James Blackthorn- General Barnes" he bows at both of us.

"What seems to be the problem Kyle?" Barnes stops and displays signs of weariness towards his unexpected presences.

"Sorry General but I am here to fetch James at once on behalf of the King. It seems there has been new foundings on Odessa Blackthorn's disappearance"

Immediately I can't help but rush over and interrogate the helpless guard, "have they found her? Is she alright? What happened?" But Barnes steps in to stop my sudden quizzical demands and looks at Kyle.

They exchange a look before Kyle speaks again.

"Ever since Prince Nicolai has woken up after the aftermath of the attack, we have been meaning to ask him further questions about that night, but it seems he isn't willing to speak to anyone"

"So?" I grumble. "That's it?! You came down here to tell us that Nicolai is acting like a spoilt brat-"

"James!" Barnes gives me an off putting glare, "Let the man finish!"

He trembled and sucks in a hefty breath of air before finishing, "The only person he is willing to speak to is you James, he knows where Odessa is"

Okay so it just happened. A fence off between Prince James and General Barnes! This was such a fun chapter to write and I hope you enjoy it! Please let me know what you think of it! :D x