[Memory] Counter Me Lucky
Posted: Mon Jun 29, 2020 10:45 am
5th day of Earth's Rest, Season of Ash, Year 56 of Age of Steel
[indent=20]“Is this the new sword from master weapon maker?” Rook asked after greeting Arlen at the sparring. The two regularly practised together, always finding new ways how to win, or lose.
[indent=20]“Yeah,” Arlen answered. “Thova wants me to test it out. She tried a different metal mix ratio so that the blade wouldn’t resonate as much.”
[indent=20]“Or break,” Rook added.
[indent=20]“Or break,” Arlen chuckled, shedding his coat like a second skin. The chill immediately took to feast.
[indent=20]“I remember that thing,” Rook mused, taking out his weapon. “It moved like a belly dancer.” They both chuckled.
[indent=20]“If Gylfi was still around, he would probably know what to do,” Rook said.
[indent=20]Arlen sighed, unsheathing the sword and weighing it in his hand. “Yeah… He would.” His mind recalled the previous master weapon maker and his burly body. It only withered away after he lost his arm. Until one day, they found him dead in the forest. Guts everywhere and a dagger laid not far from his palm. “Yeah, he would definitely know,” Arlen uttered more to himself, feeling a shiver grow inside his belly and spread through his limbs.
[indent=20]“But!” Arlen slapped Rook on the arm. “Let’s not linger what could be and let’s train. Or I’m gonna freeze to the ground.”
[indent=20]“Ha! Not my fault you’re barren of the fire...Zapling,” Rook teased.
[indent=20]“I’ll zap your ass, Rook,” Arlen countered, stepping behind Rook and bending his knee into the back of Rook’s. Rook’s knee buckled and the Jastai man flailed for a moment hand searching for something to grab.
[indent=20]“Oi! I wasn’t ready!”
[indent=20]“Not my fault, Spark,” Arlen grinned, stepping backward into the sparring ring. “Let’s see how you do with a sword.” Rook’s weapon of choice was a battleaxe. But it was getting touched up by Thova. Arlen would enjoy the minor advantage.
[indent=20]They circled each other for a while. Rook was one of the smaller Jastai, but he was still at least a head taller than Arlen. Their reach was comparable, but that was as far as their similarities went. Rook trained his body for pure, raw power. Arlen knew he could not meet Rook head-on. He had to evade, trick and exploit openings. Or at least try because Rook even for his size was agile...on good days.
[indent=20]“So?” Rook said, stopping in place and spreading his arms. “Are we gonna carry on sissying around?”
[indent=20]The corner of Arlen’s mouth twitched. He made a false lunge, swinging his blade. Rook’s face twisted as he bounced back. There was never a chance Arlen would have hit his opponent because he didn’t want to. And his lips twisted into a smirk.
[indent=20]“I’m not the one sissying. I’m here to fight. Are you?” Arlen teased his friend. They both bared teeth at each other.
[indent=20]“Very well then.” Rook sank back into his knees and shifted his weight. He assumed a basic stance leaning on the left foot forward, blade diagonally up.
[indent=20]In a moment’s notice, Rook swung the blade at Arlen as he would indeed a battle axe. The attack was aimed at Arlen’s neck. With cling, he deflected the blow, sliding into close space with Rook to let the motion absorb the energy from the blow. If they were dual-wielding, Arlen’s would be open to a dagger stab. But like this, there was nothing to worry about. Aside from Rook taking the invitation, stepping forwards and ramming his shoulder into Arlen.
[indent=20]The smaller man bounced back, trying to balance. Rook gave him no time to spare. Shifting his weight, the Jastai man glided over the sparring ring, carving a crescent from the ground upwards.
[indent=20]The blade whistled through the air, seeking its target. Arlen saw it coming and sidestepped, placing his own blade between Rook and himself.
[indent=20]Clink!
[indent=20]The men separated. The hilt in Arlen’s hands vibrating slightly.
[indent=20]“Very nice side counter,” Rook uttered, rolling his shoulders. So far he had Arlen at defence, not the best position. [indent=20]However, Arlen was ready to go through all five counter stances if necessary until he found his chance to strike the ending blow.
[indent=20]They both launched at the same time.
[indent=20]Their blades crossed at sides as Rook tried for another low cut. But this time, Arlen parried to continue with the energy of the move. It carried their blades to roll over each other in a song of death until suddenly Arlen’s sword was rising at speed and slashing at Rook’s face. Tha Jastai blocked with high guard counter stance, stepping forward aggressively to misplace Arlen’s weapon and issue an attack of his own.
[indent=20]They were close again. Yet, before Rook completed his move, Arlen bent his knees, sliding the long sword along the edge of his opponent’s. The pommel of the hilt hit Rooks’ thigh with uncompromising force.
[indent=20]“You little!” Rook shouted, abandoning the move and pushing Arlen away. Arlen slid across the ground, standing firm, watching as Rook stepped lightly on the struck leg.
[indent=20]Black hair hung in sweaty strings, framing a knowing smirk on Arlen's face. Tips of his ears poked through the strands. Despite the earlier chill, Arlen’s body was now releasing steam. He let out a slow breath. Eyes pinned on his opponent.
[indent=20]“Not my fault you’re fat and slow, Rook,” Arlen taunted his sparring partner.
[indent=20]Shifting his weight from foot to foot and coming out of the deep bend in the knees, Arlen brought both hands to the grip of his sword. His eyes quickly scanned his blade looking for any damages. Throughout the fight, it was vibrating in his hands more than felt natural. Arlen questioned whether it was fit for purpose.
[indent=20]“I swear to the Mistlord, I’ll give you a glorious death,” Rook growled, charging Arlen. Their swords rang together once more. They exchanged diagonal blows, high guards, low guards. It was a quick succession of uncompromising force versus absorptions and redirection. Everything was precisely aimed and meant to make contact. Dirt lifted from their feet as they moved around the ring.
[indent=20]Arlen’s heart drummed in his chest. His arms were absorbing the shocks from the blows and his muscles started feeling it. And with each strike, the blade in his hand seemed to give in a little more.
[indent=20]It’s not ready, Arlen thought but he was far too gone into the fight to call it quits. There was no end until first blood was drawn, or until one of them was unable to continue due to exhaustion. And Arlen wasn’t going to cross either line first whatever the capabilities of the new blade.
[indent=20]Arlen tried not to take on the full strength of Jastai blow, not even with his physique worked to equal standards. Instead, his known tactic and fighting style was to evade, trick and strike. All his sparring partners knew it. Some were able to break his cycle and beat him. Some fell for it almost every time. But neither changed the fact that the air was filled with sharp ringing and lengthy combat sessions.
[indent=20]Then a high pitched banging sound, like metal breaking, cracked high above them where their blades met in a dance of a blocked parry. Yet there was no time to think. Rook was already pushing Arlen’s sword down, having the advantage of height.
[indent=20]Arlen let Rook’s weapon take the higher ground, the edges of their weapons scratching along each other. Arlen then mustered his strength, copied Rook’s move from earlier and forcefully stepped forward to misplace his opponent’s blade. It pushed Rook out of balance and he had to counter with a few steps. In a sweep, the tip of Arlen's sword cut through the air whining for blood, eager to cut into the side of his sparring partner.
[indent=20]The dirt around Rook’s feet rolled as he dug his heels in. His side bent into a crescent and he hopped out of the blade’s reach. Wasting no time, Rook pushed off his back leg, launching like a snake.
[indent=20]Arlen’s attention never wavered. He rooted his feet in the ground, bent his knees. It seemed as though he was ready for a collision. Rook should have known. But the heat of the fight misted his mind.
[indent=20]At the last moment, Arlen shifted his weight to the left. Rook followed.
[indent=20]A whisper of teeth showed between Arlen’s lips as he pushed off the left foot to the right. His sword carving yet another fine convex line.
[indent=20]A scream of pain filled the sparring ring.
[indent=20]Both men fell to the ground, dropping their weapons.
[indent=20]“Mother of God!” Rook exclaimed holding his side.
[indent=20]Arlen hissed through his bared teeth. His face was a grimace. His hands were clutching the left thigh. Next to him, the sword he was testing for Thova showed a chip.
[indent=20]They both laid on the packed dirt, staring at each other with fire in their eyes. Without a doubt, they were still fighting each other inside their heads too. Until Arlen’s grimace of pain disappeared and he started laughing. They both did.
Enjoy the rewards, you earned them.