{WC: 442}
{Warnings: talking about fighting, murder, injury and some shouting}
{Created for the Tropetember event: Noble Demon}
{Late entry. I had it ready before the deadline, but forgot to submit it 🤦}
Sam opened his eyes. He must have been unconscious, for the sun had set. The tiled floor on which he was laying, felt comfortably cold on his bare skin. He smacked his lips, frowning. There was a vague taste of blood in his mouth. He tried to move and winced. A sharp pain shot through his right arm. Sam moved his head to look at his arm. His eyes widened at all the redness and swelling he saw.
“Ah, so you are awake.” The sound of footsteps approached him, something ticking on the tiled floor with it.
Sam slowly raised his head. He clenched his left fist until his nuckles where white. Him! He made a noice that most closely resembled a growl.
Alan stood before him, a staff in his right hand on which he appeared to be leaning. A large cut on his right leg explained the need to lean on something. Sam realised it must have been him who gave Alan the cut. The sneaking into the palace, the earlier fight with Alan.. it all came back to him.
“Come on, get up. Don’t waste my time!” Alan said, making some sort of hand movement.
Sam tried his best. His muscles felt like jelly. After a long time of grunting and teeth grinding, he managed to get to his feet, but he relied heavily on the wall next to him to keep him standing. The world seemed to be spinning around him. For a second his eyes locked with Alan’s. He looked... disappoited.
“What do you want from me?!” Sam demanded.
“Hm, I had hoped you would be able to fight.” Alan seemed to be deep in thought as he mumbled the words. Suddenly he snapped out of it. “SHOW ME WHAT YOU ARE CAPABLE OF. LET OF OF THAT WALL, DAMMIT!”
Sam let go of the wall and wobbled. He fell to his knees. He did not give up, however. Determination set on his face, he tried standing up once more and succeded.
Alan stood there shaking his head at him. “Pathetic.” He pointed his finger towards the large wooden doors. “Please leave before I change my mind.”
“Why not kill me right here and now?” Sam asked.
“I am not going to kill some person who faints after having received non-lethal cuts. I want to end it with someone standing in front of me capable of defending themselves as I am killing them, not someone laying unconscious on the floor. Now go!”
Sam found himself smiling slightly. “Is it because I am your nephew?”
“GO!”
Sam turned around and half ran, half crawled out of the palace.