[Day 5] Epee Finale: Hammerfell-Alezander vs. Speare

Everything ended so quickly in his last match as soon as he knew it, the buzzer sounded and he was straight into the final. He can still feel the tense atmosphere that lingered in the air; will he ever be blessed with an easy fight? Every single one of them has been a whirlwind of anticipation; it seems he can’t free himself from the thrill and excitement. Looking at his competitor in this gold medal match, he knows he is unlikely to have a calm fight…a Hammerfell. Hamlet was able to beat one of the famous names from One, in the shape of Moreno. What says he can’t beat a famous face from District Two? He knows for a fact if he comes away from this fight victorious, he’ll be in for some wild celebration and there will be no excuse as to why his uncle will continue deserting him.

Pulling the mask over his face, he readies himself for the floods of sweat which are like to swamp him. He’s always hated the uniform that he has been forced to wear in these matches; they are not well ventilated to his taste. Bowing down to the half Hammerfell, the mask hides the smile which is slowly marching across his face. He’s guaranteed a medal already but he’d rather go one step further. Stepping up his game for the final time, he lunges forwards, planting the first strike.

Everything started just as he predicted it would, every day of his events were like a continuous déjà vu, Hamlet seems to be very consistent…in a bad way. Air escapes from his lips, retreating through the small gaps of the mask before he quickly takes a deep breath in. Hamlet can bet what will happen next, he’ll strike with a pointless hit and won’t score well at all. Whatever power had possessed him, really was a master in continuity. His opponent gets the ball rolling quite far, his hit scoring top marks and Hamlet’s pride gets knocked over. Really, he can’t come this far and fall down just before the finishing post, the only way for him to go now is across that line…before the half Hammerfell.

Sweat already finds itself in the various crevasses of the mask, making everything a lot less comfier for Hamlet but he can’r allow a bit of moisture to distract him. Gripping onto the sword, he lunges forwards, the strike being predictable.

Dwindling slowly on the scoreboard, maybe this is it for Hamlet, a silver medal to return home with, second the best? This must be his ultimate competition, a half Hammerfell. Obviously Hammerfells are much better than the District One Moreno’s, it is true then, District Two really does have the best careers but…the latest victor was a District One, what doesn’t say Hamlet can’t be the victor in this little game? He doesn’t just have his own pride on the line but the District’s that he came from too. If his uncle wasn’t happy enough for him to get a silver than, Hamlet must find another way to make the second place prize worthy enough.

Maybe he could have a little sword fight with his uncle….see who wins that.

Gritting his teeth, he fights his brain, he can’t just stop now. If he is going to lose, he might as well lose trying.

Arrogant, that’s what Hamlet was right now. Just because he had sailed into the final, he thought he already won, just one silly little opponent to get through and that’s that. But no, reality has come marching towards Hamlet, forcing him to look at the state that he is currently in. His opponent only needs one more decent hit and the match is all there’s, while Hamlet is trailing behind by at least half a mile. It’s happened; he’s nearly reached the winning post but has ended up falling just before it. Can pride be contained in a silver medal? Second the best? That’s for his uncle to decide…

Shaking off the embarrassment, he tries to regain his concentration while the sweat droplets seep into his eyes. Extending the sword, he’d strike once more, hoping for a miracle.

It’s just one disappointment after the other for Hamlet, there is no way he can pick up the pieces in this fight, silver he will just after settle with. Even after the atrocious hit that the half Hammerfell bestowed upon him, his opponent only needs three more points and the game is his. If he is going to lose, he shall have to lose in style. He just needs to prove to the world that he tried, he battled on to his very best but obviously the Hammerfell from District Two has overpowered him. As long as he walks away from this fight with some sense of pride and dignity, there is nothing to be ashamed about….he just hopes his uncle also agrees with that.