Extract from the book ‘Duels of Persephone: The post-Unification period’ by former Persephone World News reporter Arthur C. Merryweather.

Pride

Before his ignoble defeat at the hands of Malcolm Reynolds*, Atherton Wing had only truly faced death once before. It three years before, at the hands of a man barely past his majority.

Mikhail Drasky was young, proud and easily offended. It made for a dangerous combination, made even more so that Mikhail’s father was Ivan Drasky**, finest swordsmith in all of Persephone and an expert bladesman in his own right. Everything that Ivan knew about fighting he had taught his son and equipped him with arguably the finest blade he had ever crafted in his long career. Named Bing Cai *** by Drasky Snr, the sword was his masterwork. Nigh unbreakable, light as a goose feather, perfectly balanced and honed sharp enough to make the air hiss. The guards and quillions gleamed with silver filigree, the pommel shinned with a pure, clear crystal that caught the light, sending rainbows of colour in every direction. By any stretch of the imagination, Bing Cai is a beautiful sword.

No-one I spoke to remembered the slight that sparked the duel between Atherton and Mikhail. Mikhail is now unable to speak of it, buried deep as he is. Atherton simply refuses to recall the incident. In truth I suspect he does not remember either. For myself, I have always held the opinion that the duel was fought over who was the most prideful man in the room. But that is merely conjecture. The fact of the matter is that Atherton and Mikhail faced each other, swords drawn, the very next morning.

The mist swirled around the booted feet of the combatants and the onlookers. The early sun shone through the trees, where the birds chirped the endnotes of the dawn chorus. In a pond nearby a lone fish performed acrobatic hunting after elusive insects.

Behind Atherton, as always, stood his second, Mathew Welsh*^. The tall man stood silent, stalwart and bearded, Atherton’s coat in hand.

The place of Mikha