Percival pushed the doors of the manor open and stepped out into the morning light, intent on going down to the stables to start his routine. Despite the new second sun, Midnight's feeding and grooming would not wait, and now that they were both well-rested, Percival could resume normal matters of care. He came out wondering if enough ice would melt to permit a trail ride...and then he noticed the man standing in the courtyard, in his path.
So, he's out of the infirmary. Percival had only just returned after his retreat, so he hadn't caught up on what else besides the rune-sun had changed while he was gone. He kept his tone light as he stepped down the stairs. "I'm not sure what you want to accomplish by challenging the dawn," he said wryly, "but I wish you the best of luck."
Seed was startled out of his reverie by an unfamiliar voice and he turned to the side, his sword leaving the sun behind to point towards the person who had jarred him out of his thoughts of home.
He frowned at the sight of Percival.
"Oh, it's you", his voice sounded weary, and perhaps a little aggravated, but it wasn't clear if his annoyance was directed at Percival himself for what he did at the infirmary, or at being taken so completely off guard, "I told you I wouldn't touch your precious Luca Blight, there's no need to check up on me. I value my word and won't go against it."
Percival did not flinch at the sword, stepping casually to the side as if to simply walk around Seed. "I'm not checking up on you," he assured blandly. "This is a chance meeting, nothing more. I'm on my way to the stables to look after my horse.
"For what it's worth," he continued after barely a pause for breath, "I'm no fan of Luca Blight. He kidnapped the castle lord and left him to die, and attempted to take over the castle. A team of brave swordsmen of which I was in no shape to join beat him to within an inch of his life. So, yes, while I know little of the conflict in your part of the world in ages past, I do know what he's capable of."
Seed laughed, a mirthless laugh, as he lowers his sword: "That was merely recreational for him. Had you found your castle lord gutted and beheaded, maybe a few women and children too, then you would have known what Luca Blight is capable of."
"And yet, we followed him for a long time, I followed him", Seed frowned as he started thinking of times past, and of that fateful decision, late at night in Culgan's tent, to turn against their Prince for the good of Highland. Alas, it had been too late to win the war, but it had saved countless innocent lives. What was that thing that Culgan had told him? "All it takes for evil to win, is that good men do nothing. Remember that."
Percival listened, trying to keep his discomfort from showing on his face. "So I gathered," he murmured. "I do count us very lucky. But I didn't step in to save him or to spite you...I was merely trying to keep peace."
He took a deep breath and let it out, and then lifted his head proudly. "And so, here you are, with your health and your freedom on an exceptionally sunny morning. Were you planning on doing something with that sword, or does it simply make you feel better to wave it around in general directions? Since I see no obvious target."
"Health and freedom mean nothing to me." Seed shrugged, then his eyes narrowed, the index of his free hand slowly tapping against the top of his leg armor, metal against metal, as if he was thinking something through.
"Your words sound like an offer..." The crimson-haired general commented, "A knight such as yourself, against a poor famboy like me, it just wouldn't be fair now would it?"
Percival raised an eyebrow slightly. "As I've told you before, I'm a poor farmboy myself. The only unfairness would be if you were to come after me while I were still unarmed." His head bobbed slightly to the left, indicating the empty space on his hip where his sword usually hung. "But if you're suggesting you'd like to take me on, for real, well...I would accept, if you gave me a minute to run back upstairs for my blade."
He looked Seed over for a moment, growing interested in a match. Unlike his foolish attempts at proving himself outside castle grounds, this might be what he needed.
Seed suddenly looked embarassed, and laughed. "I hadn't even thought about that... you had your sword last time we met, and I would assume a knight would never separate from his weapon of choice."
The crimson-haired general shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his free hand going to his waist, white steel against black leather.
"What a strange place this is", he mused a bit sardonically, "One were villains live, and good men are unarmed."
Percival tried not to frown, though his brow twitched a bit. "I generally don't arm myself before going down to the stables to groom my horse at the crack of dawn," he said dryly. "Whatever strange or unsettling circumstances may be afoot from time to time, Budehuc is still peaceful enough that I could technically go unarmed anytime I'm not on patrol."
He tilted his head to the side in a casual shrug. "Yet if you'll indulge me in about two minutes of your time, I can be ready to take you on. Midnight is probably still sleeping anyway, and wouldn't appreciate me interrupting just for a morning rub-down."
A slow grin spreads on Seed's face, a wolfish grin. Finally, a chance to let off some steam... without having to be too careful. He hates being careful, it takes all of the passion out of fighting, all of the excitement.
"Very well, then." Fortunately, Percival's room was right at the top of the stairs, so it didn't take long at all to run up and fetch Zukunft and the leather gambeson he usually wore underneath his plate armor. He could have taken an extra minute or two to don parts of the armor, but Percival was in a hurry and assumed he wouldn't be beaten on too badly. He came back out just finishing buckling the sword belt, settling his blade comfortably where it belonged. "I admit," he said when Seed came back into view, "it's been a while since I sparred so early in the morning. But since you've been injured recently, I think that evens the playing field just enough."
He straightened up and held out a hand. "It occurs to me we've never properly exchanged names. Percival Fraulein, of the Zexen Knights."
"Don't plan on it", Seed shot back, amusement -and a touch of pride- evident in his tone, "I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, I've fought in much worse shape than I was when I first arrived here."
He held his sword loosely, drawing little circles in the air with the tip of the blade, "I could fight left-handed if you want..."
"And I'm Seed", he added as an afterthought, then smiled widely, ferally, "Highland's Flaming General."
Percival chuckled wryly - so much of this hot-headed young man was reminding him of Borus. "Oh, I don't think that will be necessary. A regular old match will do just fine." He also deliberately left out that he had gotten smacked down by a Lizard Clan fighter a couple of days earlier. It didn't matter.
"Very well, Sir Seed, if we are trading titles," he went on, smirking, "then the Swordsman of Gale will be your opponent today. I trust that meets your approval?"
Seed shrugged. "I'm not picky. All I require is for my opponent to be armed."
He dropped into a fighting stance, one foot sliding forward, his knees slightly bent. "How about some fencing?" Seed raised his off hand, "you look like the type."
Percival smiled coolly, drawing his sword and falling into a similar stance, though with his shoulders straighter and his left hand balanced lower. "Yes, I have been trained in fencing. Among other things." He nodded to accept the terms, and took the first move, dancing forward with a quick flick of his wrist to slash downward at the opposing blade.
- "You fight like a farmhand..." - "I was a farmhand, what do you expect?" - "You can be anyone you wish to be. Do you want to be a farmhand forever?"
Seed bent his wrist, catching the blade of Percival's sword, nudging it slightly to the side before turning to stand near him and attempting to nudge him forward with his free hand. Culgan would have reprimanded him, the move was highly illegal. But it never stopped Seed, his style was unorthodox at best.
So, he's out of the infirmary. Percival had only just returned after his retreat, so he hadn't caught up on what else besides the rune-sun had changed while he was gone. He kept his tone light as he stepped down the stairs. "I'm not sure what you want to accomplish by challenging the dawn," he said wryly, "but I wish you the best of luck."
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He frowned at the sight of Percival.
"Oh, it's you", his voice sounded weary, and perhaps a little aggravated, but it wasn't clear if his annoyance was directed at Percival himself for what he did at the infirmary, or at being taken so completely off guard, "I told you I wouldn't touch your precious Luca Blight, there's no need to check up on me. I value my word and won't go against it."
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"For what it's worth," he continued after barely a pause for breath, "I'm no fan of Luca Blight. He kidnapped the castle lord and left him to die, and attempted to take over the castle. A team of brave swordsmen of which I was in no shape to join beat him to within an inch of his life. So, yes, while I know little of the conflict in your part of the world in ages past, I do know what he's capable of."
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"And yet, we followed him for a long time, I followed him", Seed frowned as he started thinking of times past, and of that fateful decision, late at night in Culgan's tent, to turn against their Prince for the good of Highland. Alas, it had been too late to win the war, but it had saved countless innocent lives. What was that thing that Culgan had told him? "All it takes for evil to win, is that good men do nothing. Remember that."
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He took a deep breath and let it out, and then lifted his head proudly. "And so, here you are, with your health and your freedom on an exceptionally sunny morning. Were you planning on doing something with that sword, or does it simply make you feel better to wave it around in general directions? Since I see no obvious target."
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"Your words sound like an offer..." The crimson-haired general commented, "A knight such as yourself, against a poor famboy like me, it just wouldn't be fair now would it?"
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He looked Seed over for a moment, growing interested in a match. Unlike his foolish attempts at proving himself outside castle grounds, this might be what he needed.
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The crimson-haired general shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his free hand going to his waist, white steel against black leather.
"What a strange place this is", he mused a bit sardonically, "One were villains live, and good men are unarmed."
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He tilted his head to the side in a casual shrug. "Yet if you'll indulge me in about two minutes of your time, I can be ready to take you on. Midnight is probably still sleeping anyway, and wouldn't appreciate me interrupting just for a morning rub-down."
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"I'll wait, I don't have anything better to do."
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He straightened up and held out a hand. "It occurs to me we've never properly exchanged names. Percival Fraulein, of the Zexen Knights."
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He held his sword loosely, drawing little circles in the air with the tip of the blade, "I could fight left-handed if you want..."
"And I'm Seed", he added as an afterthought, then smiled widely, ferally, "Highland's Flaming General."
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"Very well, Sir Seed, if we are trading titles," he went on, smirking, "then the Swordsman of Gale will be your opponent today. I trust that meets your approval?"
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He dropped into a fighting stance, one foot sliding forward, his knees slightly bent. "How about some fencing?" Seed raised his off hand, "you look like the type."
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- "You fight like a farmhand..."
- "I was a farmhand, what do you expect?"
- "You can be anyone you wish to be. Do you want to be a farmhand forever?"
Seed bent his wrist, catching the blade of Percival's sword, nudging it slightly to the side before turning to stand near him and attempting to nudge him forward with his free hand. Culgan would have reprimanded him, the move was highly illegal. But it never stopped Seed, his style was unorthodox at best.
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