Author's Note: This one came out of my husband and I talking about the Spring Festivals in Kylado one day, about the Jousts specifically. The chants just kinda stuck in my head. :)

Chapter 3: Paladin King and Elven Soul

The two combatants didn’t enter the arena immediately. This, too, seemed normal.

“Just wait,” Zentarou said quietly. “We’re simply waiting to see who starts it this year. Another little tradition, started by my family when my father was debating whether or not to forfeit the match.” He grinned. “That year he didn’t.” Gelendra fidgeted around, abruptly huffed, and shouted,

“Ry-charde! Ry-charde!” Instantly those nearby and loyal to Rycharde took up the chant, and it soon spread to the entire crowd. The cat mage chuckled.

“Our father and uncle like getting the crowd into the mood by making us call them out like this.” Edgar, the panther, shot Gelendra a playful glare and answered back loudly, nearly drowning her out.

“Zen-tor! Zen-tor!” Zentarou winked at his mage brothers, and changed the call.

“Pride of Sou-thern! Pride of Sou-thern!”

“Honor of Nor-thern! Honor of Nor-thern!” Zantar responded, and the crowd answered in kind, cheering for their respective champion to appear. All of the guests felt the rising excitement, but still no combatants appeared.

“They’re really making us wait this year,” Zatana laughed merrily.

“This’ll do it,” her husband assured. He cupped his hands around his mouth so amplify his voice. “Honor of Nor-thern, the Paladin King!”

“Paladin King?” echoed Adam.

“Pride of Sou-thern, Elven Soul!” Kest blinked at that shout from Edgar. Dregan looked at Vivi and Orko, shrugged, grinned, and….

“Pride of Sou-thern, Elven Soul!” Vivi laughed, and shouted the counter, just for fun.

“Honor of Nor-thern, the Paladin King!” Slowly, due mostly to friendship to one mage or another, even the visitors joined in with the crowd.

Then, abruptly, an incredibly loud neigh of a horse cut the air, silencing the crowd. They heard the galloping of hooves, and out from the right-hand side entrance shop a rider in crimson armor on a horse so dark brown it looked black. The horse bucked and reared wildly, but the rider never lost his seat. Rather he laughed, a huge great sword held in one hand which he began to whirl over his head. Zentarou and Gelendra were amongst those who cheered.

After about a minute or Rycharde riling up the crowd, there came a second fanfare from the other direction. Rycharde stood his horse still, as from the left entrance came a second knight on a golden-furred horse that stepped proudly and calmly into the arena. The knight he carried wore armor of blue and gold, and at the sight of him Zantar and Valron led the cheers. Zentor just calmly looked around at the crowd, then abruptly drew his sword to thrust it into the sky. Then, and only then, did his horse rear onto it’s hind legs in a heroic pose before returning to the ground. Both knights - and now quite clearly kings - gave each other a salute before sheathing their blades. Zentor shifted his shield onto his arm, the front sporting a gold lion’s paw emblem from which rose two golden dragon wings, and took a lance offered by a guard. Rycharde took a lance and also a shield, for although it was clear he was proficient with one, he preferred none. Then they faced each other, and the First Joust began.