Short+Story+Conflict+Between+Two+People

Patrick the Great stormed the throne room. The tensions were slippery, and such was the wood, which was decaying and growing mold from its crevices. Robin the King was appalled and pale in the face. With furious dignity and passion Patrick cries out "Bring your body to my knees, now!". Vexal sneered and frowned, taking a few paces to make parallel his body to Patrick's, who stood ten yards away from him. The two Princes were in the center of the hall. "This is the last time you insult me." said Vexal. Patrick braved the words and withdrew his sword. "My nuisances are best dealt with outside." They gave each other glances and walked out of the hall. Proceeding over the brown ground they got to the stables and mounted their horses. "Let's go a few miles out." They began riding, very fast this time, out of the village. They hated each other. Vexal could not stand another second without combat. He stopped and perched his horse to the side of the road. Patrick the Great looked back and said "I see. We will do it this way." The two charged their horses. The swords met with a cling. Vexal strew Patrick's sword temporarily and made him vulnerable. Patrick reared his horse and slashed Vexal across the neck, making him bleed slightly. Vexal's long white hair thrashed back and forth, which reflected in its black hues like the white sky overhead. Vexal turned his horse backwards and began riding towards the front side of the road. Patrick pursued. The air was wet as they galloped across the green ridge, and the ground held some sinkholes of mud. Patrick was gaining on Vexal. The air and friction between the horses could be felt. There were whiplashes of the horse's brown back while Patrick tightly held on to the reigns. He was only a few yards from Vexal's back now. They proceeded into a marsh. Wiry black branches hung intrusively from the sides, and the facade of bogs was seen at the right of the path, which was laid out with smooth grass. Vexal knew he was close, and pulled on the reigns with great force and struck down at his opponent blindly. "Ahhhh!" Patrick cried. The sword had struck his right leg and went in fairly deep. Vexal slashed again. His sword was blocked this time. The fight continued on, the swordsmen fighting with their right arms across from each horse. The two headed opposite of each other. Patrick began exiting the bog, and came out to a plateau of a green field surrounded by a barren forest. Vexal flew after him. The horses were galloping at their greatest speeds. Patrick ducked his head forward, the wind snapping in his face and eyes. Mud was thrown from leg to leg, and Vexal withdrew his longsword. He was gradually getting closer to his enemy at a furious speed. The trees were a brown wave of ocean, a blur that melded together like a mixture of oil paints. Patrick the Great's red hair had become like a small flame upon his skull, and his dark green cape was horizontal in the wind and provided ground on which the fire burned. Vexal urged his horse to go faster. They were still 300 yards from the line of trees ahead. Patrick clenched his teeth at the exposure of his wound to the misty air, and gripped his cut. Vexal gained on him fully now, and approached Patrick from the left, but his first strike was blocked. Patrick was bent under the pressure of the attack, and although he might of been weakened, he persistently brought his sword up and stopped the second blow. Vexal hit faster this time. Patrick kept up with the blade, which slashed like splinters of light between the two men. Wave after wave of wind hit the men while their horses coughed up chunks of spit and flem, sprinting at their fastest speed. This fight would not end with both alive. Patrick attacked one last time before the first tree of the forest separated the opponents. The thicket and the leaves snapped at the faces of the riders while they sped and crossed in patterns throughout the growth. The last line of trees were outlined by a shallow stream ahead. Patrick moved onto the water, and with roaring waves takes a left and charges down the stream, with Vexal on his back. Giant jet streams of stormy water rose between the two riders like a trail of rising dust. Ahead, there was a small waterfall. Patrick gained a 30 yard distance from the dead end and stopped his horse, ready for another hit. With the last of his stength, Patrick the Great struck harder and harder with every hit upon his enemy's sword, and Vexal felt himself falling off his steed. When Vexal hit the ground Patrick was ready to jump off his horse and onto him, and wrestled around with his neck. Vexal's only hope was his dagger. He grabbed it and shoved it into Patrick's wound. Patrick let out a piercing cry. He took a few steps back, clenched his teeth, and pulled it out with a painful snap. Patrick returned and the both struck mindlessly at each other, panting and breathing heavily as they raised their swords. Fury fueled the Princes. With one last opportunity, Vexal yet again aimed for his wound. Patrick dodged and Vexal's sword fell upon the water. Patrick swung his sword down on Vexal's exposed arm. Blinded by pain, Patrick drove his sword through Vexal's torso, and he fell limp upon the blade. Patrick kicked Vexal off his sword, and his body fell down into the stream, leaving a trail of running blood through the water. Without a moment to rest, Patrick the Great heard a horse in the distance. He looked down the river and found it to be Marrion, who upon the sight of Patrick heightened his speed. "Patrick!" He approached and dismounted. "We have no time. You must go, and ride for Loxeray. You must not return to the halls now." "Will do. And what of Willecks?" "That will be sorted out." Patrick tilted his head to the ground distraught. Marrion saw it in his eyes. "I will get you to the Hallewn. I promise you. You must ride." Patrick wasn't sure if he would see Marrion again. He looked back up, giving him a sad and foreboding look. "You must go, now!" Patrick mounted his horse, and so did Marrion. He gave him a cast of the hand goodbye and drifted off into the misty air ahead.