The Storm Breaks (Part II)
In the back of her mind Lyon wonders if the final matches in the other worlds could rival this. The rest of her attention is focused on the match below, watching as the fighters constantly weave and dodge inside the ring.
The sun overhead beats down on spectators and fighters alike, although neither care or notice. Steel glints as it catches the sunlight, flashing brilliantly one second before turning into a thin metal sliver as it cuts through the air. The clang of metal on metal rings throughout the coliseum, setting a bizarre rhythm as the two continue to dance forward or back, trading assault for defense.
She can almost taste the dust and sweat in the air, even from this high up. Sometimes the force of the blows from the spear are enough to make her shake, other times the speed of broadsword leaves her stunned as it cuts patterns she's never imagined making.
Heartbeats stretch into seconds, then minutes. As those start to pass by, she realizes that neither one has an advantage over the other. The reach and speed between them are nearly equal. Certainly the skills are too close to measure.
The swordsman draws back to catch his breath, while the gladiator shifts his grip on the spear for better leverage. That's the moment Lyon realizes that the match is going to come down to stamina, and whoever has the quickest eye for weakness.
Feet scrabble in the dirt, and the match is joined again. Except this time the swordsman starts faltering, taking more effort with each swing. Lyon sucks her breath in as the spear user shrugs off the blows, and twists the sword aside with a deft wrist movement. She remembers who that gladiator is championing now.
The sound of spear head shrieking over sword sweeps over the arena, but it doesn't come close to the echo the broadsword makes when it clatters to the arena floor. The dull 'whumph' of leather armor and skin hitting the slates also carries much further then it has any right to.
As one creature, the crowd surges to its feet, screaming, cheering, waving hands and fists in the air. Over that racket she can't hear the shouted results, but the announcement is superfluous. The swordsman from Kanakan lays on his back, a dulled spear head pointed at his throat. The sword is only a foot away from his fingers, but with the gladiator's foot pressed down on his chest, it could just as well be resting on the other side of the arena.
They may be several seats below and away from them, but with grins that large Lyon thinks she can count individual teeth as the Barows stand to accept the congratulations. The royal family members and knights start to rise as well, and Lyon doesn't have much of a choice but to follow. As she climbs to her feet it takes effort to keep from being sick when she looks at the Barows boy and realizes what all of this could mean.
The cheers can't drown out the memory of Kyle telling her about the skeletons (and runes) the Barows have kept in their closet. Mentally telling herself about how they've already stopped one noble house helps keep her heart from racing, but despite that and the hot afternoon sun she can't keep a chill from running down her back.
((And with this and the upcoming post from knight_eros, the time line is brought up to date and resumes as normal!))
The sun overhead beats down on spectators and fighters alike, although neither care or notice. Steel glints as it catches the sunlight, flashing brilliantly one second before turning into a thin metal sliver as it cuts through the air. The clang of metal on metal rings throughout the coliseum, setting a bizarre rhythm as the two continue to dance forward or back, trading assault for defense.
She can almost taste the dust and sweat in the air, even from this high up. Sometimes the force of the blows from the spear are enough to make her shake, other times the speed of broadsword leaves her stunned as it cuts patterns she's never imagined making.
Heartbeats stretch into seconds, then minutes. As those start to pass by, she realizes that neither one has an advantage over the other. The reach and speed between them are nearly equal. Certainly the skills are too close to measure.
The swordsman draws back to catch his breath, while the gladiator shifts his grip on the spear for better leverage. That's the moment Lyon realizes that the match is going to come down to stamina, and whoever has the quickest eye for weakness.
Feet scrabble in the dirt, and the match is joined again. Except this time the swordsman starts faltering, taking more effort with each swing. Lyon sucks her breath in as the spear user shrugs off the blows, and twists the sword aside with a deft wrist movement. She remembers who that gladiator is championing now.
The sound of spear head shrieking over sword sweeps over the arena, but it doesn't come close to the echo the broadsword makes when it clatters to the arena floor. The dull 'whumph' of leather armor and skin hitting the slates also carries much further then it has any right to.
As one creature, the crowd surges to its feet, screaming, cheering, waving hands and fists in the air. Over that racket she can't hear the shouted results, but the announcement is superfluous. The swordsman from Kanakan lays on his back, a dulled spear head pointed at his throat. The sword is only a foot away from his fingers, but with the gladiator's foot pressed down on his chest, it could just as well be resting on the other side of the arena.
They may be several seats below and away from them, but with grins that large Lyon thinks she can count individual teeth as the Barows stand to accept the congratulations. The royal family members and knights start to rise as well, and Lyon doesn't have much of a choice but to follow. As she climbs to her feet it takes effort to keep from being sick when she looks at the Barows boy and realizes what all of this could mean.
The cheers can't drown out the memory of Kyle telling her about the skeletons (and runes) the Barows have kept in their closet. Mentally telling herself about how they've already stopped one noble house helps keep her heart from racing, but despite that and the hot afternoon sun she can't keep a chill from running down her back.
((And with this and the upcoming post from knight_eros, the time line is brought up to date and resumes as normal!))