[center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/J05PXNPx/316501d78428889e71f59744c964d769.png[/img][hr][h2][color=#486AD0]A Chivalric (Mis)Adventure[/color][/h2][/center][hr]

Tervellan had only averted his eyes for a split second, but once again, to his dismay, there was another infraction to adjudicate in his quarter... and sure enough, the Baker boy was responsible again.

That much wasn't surprising, all things considered. None of the happenings in the lad's prior matches had given even the slightest indication that he would be fighting fairly. His... [i]creativity[/i] was honestly almost impressive, though it could hardly make up for his utter lack of qualities befitting a knight. Perhaps he would have done well if he had instead submitted himself to one of the more discreet branches of Grayle's military -- the Prince's Shadows, for one. But unfortunately for everyone, and especially for Tervellan, he had decided to make a spectacle of his little tricks instead.

And what was surprising was that, apparently, in the very first instant of his third battle, they had [i]worked.[/i]

It hadn't been Tervellan's intention to give his opponent an easy win. Though he had pulled a great many strings in the organization of this tournament, and would be pulling even more to get his way come the selection afterward, he hadn't seen any need to rig the odds in young Lothwren's favor. He was, after all, one of the most promising young swordsmen of his generation -- and the only reason to add the "one of" qualifier was because of the Absolute boy in the next quadrant over. Even so, there wasn't any contestant on the entire roster that should have been able to overwhelm him so thoroughly. He had competed against the best of the best and had not been found wanting.

But the best of the best did not make a habit of carrying pocketfuls of [i]sand[/i] into the arena with them -- and not even the most powerful of Auras could protect its wielder from a threat they did not anticipate. This, which should have been that boy's finest moment, was turned to ignominious shame by such a trifling thing -- and he, in some sense, was accountable. If he had simply disqualified the Baker boy after his last stunt, then...

But what was done was done, and a Knight Commander was not supposed to play favorites, no matter how promising the cadet in question might have been. Since he had let the previous "victory" -- if it could be honestly called such -- stand, he would have no choice but to do the same again.

But that didn't mean he had to let things end like this. The Baker boy was creative, tenacious, and honestly, even amusing in his own way, if only for how easily his antics incited anger in a particularly contemptible colleague. But even a man as open-minded as Tervellan knew that such paltry "skill" could not be presented side-by-side with the champions of this year's tournament.

Then the solution was simple. A black mark would have to be placed upon the boy's record. Someone who had succeeded through such underhanded methods couldn't complain if he came to be unseated through the same, now could he? And the captain could always make up for jeopardizing the lad's future by taking him into his own division as a consolation prize -- not that any of the other captains would have selected him in the first place.

Excusing himself from the discourse of his peers -- not that there was much discourse to be had beyond Vallentin's flabbergasted tirades about the flagrant dishonor and contemptible incompetence of the commoners this year -- Tervellan rose from his seat, and stalked down from the stands, towards where the subordinate managing his corner was standing. He doubted anyone would notice his absence -- all eyes were still transfixed on the arena, where one Aura user had just spectacularly defeated a skill Incanter in a white-knuckled duel more intense than any the crowd had seen that morning... and where another had just lost so anticlimactically that few in the crowd could yet believe what had occurred.

Yes, indeed. Tervellan had pulled many strings in the organization of this tournament. It would not be difficult to pull another. But who to make use of? The Absolute would be too obvious -- making one street urchin face two Aura users in a single day was sure to draw attention. But there were other prominent nobles, and other great talents, who would surely take the defeat of one of their own to heart... A youth of overweening pride and accomplishment, then. Perhaps the son of Marquess Keighley? Yes, the young lord Zeno's temperament was exactly the sort that would see the matter settled quickly and decisively. He would do quite nicely...

But elsewhere, even as his opponent's friends were helping him from the field, a young blonde boy was still naively celebrating his upset victory, oblivious to the whispers of the crowd around him, or to the conversation that was unfolding between the announcer and the man in black armor off to the side of the arena...