Post by Talen Mythik Aureon Gale on Jul 24, 2014 19:46:23 GMT -6
The steady rhythm of sword against sword soothed him, a predictable tempo that sped with his pulse. Thud, thud, hit, hit, block, life, death. The transparent but entirely solid specter that brought blade across his crouched, the inanimate opponent a summoning of the Discipline to spar at whichever skill level the human boasted. For Talen, this meant challenge... and when his mind was worn and chaotic, a challenge was all he needed. As the ghostly silhouette steadied its stance, Talen resumed his own, appreciating the brief pause in the combat that had stretched into the past hour. His body was bruised, his golden skin covered in a sheen of sweat that enhanced the metallic quality already present. His Black Cloak had been neatly folded on top of his black shirt, kept against a nearby wall in the open arena so no one could approach it without his observation and retaliation. Drynwyn was equipped in his right hand, the naked edge reflecting the red and blue light of the current sky blazing viciously upon him.
A whistle and blur marked the next attack; the opponent's hand had morphed from a sword to a bow and an arrow was released before it had even finished materializing. Adrenaline spiked as instinct overtook Talen; in one pained grunt, massive midnight wings interrupted with feathers of topaz bloomed from his shoulder blades, tearing apart his body in a geyser of crimson droplets. The canvases shot straight backward and then beat toward the ground, causing Talen to fly upward in a sudden jerk. The strain on his muscles from such an abrupt motion caused his eyes to flinch but he kept his focus on the bow, aware another assault could use his momentum to impale him. As anticipated, another arrow was strung and pointed at him, aimed slightly above his frame in the assumption Talen would ascend directly into it. Ignoring the screaming protest of his muscles at defying the wind billowing in his wings, he snapped them against his back and rejected all flight, dropping like a stone as the arrow passed harmlessly overhead. Moments before impact, he thrust his wings outward again and swooped them, scooping the air to propel his body into a tight loop backward. His boots flipped over his head until he landed on the ground. His knees bent to absorb the shock as his left hand caught the rest of his weight, pressed into the soil between his legs, and his right arm wielded Drynwyn horizontally behind his back so his torso slightly twisted. His face sought the opponent who had abruptly vanished. Invisible? Did it truly assume his skill so high as to fight an unseen foe? Shifting Drynwyn in his grip, he cast his gaze with the darted speed of an animal, engulfed in reflex and rapid thought.
Rustling. Piqued, Talen whipped his head to the right, motion in his peripherals heralding another attack--this one by sword. Using the blade he already had positioned on his back, he swatted away the incoming arc with what little power his arm could provide in the twisted pose, deflecting its path just enough that it only grazed his shoulder. Pain was lightning but he ignored it, unable to address it until danger had passed. He bolted to his feet while turning to face the threat, using the move to add more strength into his wings as they slammed into the wraith, throwing it into the wall with a satisfying crack. After a beat, it dissolved into smoke, the signal that a fatal blow had been dealt. Its head must have smashed into the brick.
Blood still draining from where his wings had emerged and the cut, he switched Drynwyn to his left hand and flexed his right fingers, wringing out the sore hand and breathing heavily in the humid air. Adrenaline continued to fuel him, refusing to believe the duel was complete, but his mind started to slow and process the wounds he'd sustained.
A smile gradually drew on his lips. Battle and pain... freedom. Exquisite, untarnished, unrestrained freedom.
A whistle and blur marked the next attack; the opponent's hand had morphed from a sword to a bow and an arrow was released before it had even finished materializing. Adrenaline spiked as instinct overtook Talen; in one pained grunt, massive midnight wings interrupted with feathers of topaz bloomed from his shoulder blades, tearing apart his body in a geyser of crimson droplets. The canvases shot straight backward and then beat toward the ground, causing Talen to fly upward in a sudden jerk. The strain on his muscles from such an abrupt motion caused his eyes to flinch but he kept his focus on the bow, aware another assault could use his momentum to impale him. As anticipated, another arrow was strung and pointed at him, aimed slightly above his frame in the assumption Talen would ascend directly into it. Ignoring the screaming protest of his muscles at defying the wind billowing in his wings, he snapped them against his back and rejected all flight, dropping like a stone as the arrow passed harmlessly overhead. Moments before impact, he thrust his wings outward again and swooped them, scooping the air to propel his body into a tight loop backward. His boots flipped over his head until he landed on the ground. His knees bent to absorb the shock as his left hand caught the rest of his weight, pressed into the soil between his legs, and his right arm wielded Drynwyn horizontally behind his back so his torso slightly twisted. His face sought the opponent who had abruptly vanished. Invisible? Did it truly assume his skill so high as to fight an unseen foe? Shifting Drynwyn in his grip, he cast his gaze with the darted speed of an animal, engulfed in reflex and rapid thought.
Rustling. Piqued, Talen whipped his head to the right, motion in his peripherals heralding another attack--this one by sword. Using the blade he already had positioned on his back, he swatted away the incoming arc with what little power his arm could provide in the twisted pose, deflecting its path just enough that it only grazed his shoulder. Pain was lightning but he ignored it, unable to address it until danger had passed. He bolted to his feet while turning to face the threat, using the move to add more strength into his wings as they slammed into the wraith, throwing it into the wall with a satisfying crack. After a beat, it dissolved into smoke, the signal that a fatal blow had been dealt. Its head must have smashed into the brick.
Blood still draining from where his wings had emerged and the cut, he switched Drynwyn to his left hand and flexed his right fingers, wringing out the sore hand and breathing heavily in the humid air. Adrenaline continued to fuel him, refusing to believe the duel was complete, but his mind started to slow and process the wounds he'd sustained.
A smile gradually drew on his lips. Battle and pain... freedom. Exquisite, untarnished, unrestrained freedom.
