[b]"Kris the second...?"[/b] Kris repeated this moniker to himself, while rubbing his hand. He did not like it. To be second was to imply that she would be first, that she would be better than him in some way. No, he was trained for this -- trained by the best. Kris was representing his grandfather and all that he had worked for since he was barely out of his crib. But this was a distraction, of course. The correct thing to do would be to ignore her. His victory would be one of solemn dignity and triumph over the obstacles in his path, just as his grandfather had-- [b]"Then may the best [i]man[/i] win!"[/b] he declared. [b]"I'll see you inside, [i]other[/i] Kris."[/b] Then he turned around and marched right into the proving grounds. And yes, he did realize he never picked up the canteen he had dropped, but he would not lower himself to that level. He would just...go without the water. That's right. It was a good exercise. What if he and Prince Marth were in some god-forsaken desert, and he had to go without water for his liege's sake? Then he could look back and say, [i]"I sure am glad that I, the one and only Kris, practiced going without water when that crafty girl tried to usurp his rightful place at Prince Marth's side."[/i] No, the other Kris wasn't getting to him at all. Certainly not one bit. ----- A wizened man in a set of purple plate armor watched the new recruits as they filed in to Altea's Proving Grounds, a patch of green on castle grounds that were usually used for the Knights of Altea's training drills. He sat atop a tall warhorse outfitted with orange armor, where his dark, stony eyes could see all types. The bold and the calm. The big and the small. The strong and the weak. Each would be tested -- perhaps to the breaking point. He had tested potential trainees before -- before the War of Shadows -- but seeing it in the new era of peace was fresh even for a seasoned veteran like him. After two trainees entered - a man with brown hair and a dark-haired woman shortly after him -- he strode forward to address the group. [b]"Attention!"[/b] he called, his booming voice only very lightly choked with age. [b]"I am Jagen, Prince Marth's personal advisor! Each and every one of you has shown the willingness to be accepted into the Knights of Altea, and thus we have opened the gates for you this day. However, we are looking for more than willingness in our knights! You must also show your strength, your discipline, and your wit! You will be pushed to the height of your abilities, and most of you will fail. But to those of you who can weather the training, you will join me as a defender of this land! As is Altean tradition, blood has no bearing on your success! You will be measured solely by your abilities! Now, gather into pairs! For this first test, you will be facing off against real Altean knights in mock combat!"[/b] ----- Kris, who had nearly been brought to gleeful tears by Jagen's speech, soon found himself struck as a fawn glancing down the shaft of an incoming arrow. He had not considered that he would have to pair up, and especially not for the first test. Because he had came in somewhat late, thanks to that girl, he had not the time to socialize with anyone nearby. In fact, the closest one to him was [i]that[/i] girl, and he certainly didn't want to risk letting her get to him during something as important as the first test! No, there had to be someone else...but as he looked around, all he could see where others getting into pairs, leaving him increasingly isolated. Could he handle such a task by himself? Would that impress Sir Jagen, or anger him? Kris was finding himself already at a loss with his first assignment. The one thing he never received training on was communicating with other warriors, and fighting alongside them. There was only one person he had been instructed to fight alongside: Prince Marth.