Post by Deleted on Nov 14, 2012 0:52:49 GMT
"How are we in your way exactly?" Asked Ven immediately, looking around.
The boy smiled, and did not reply.
"You get on my nerves..." Said Ash, striding towards their assailant.
The boy raised his sword and sparks crackled as Ash approached, the other knights and Largo stepped forward, drawing their swords. There was tension as both sides waited for the other to make the first move.
The boy then looked around.
"I see your knights. Tsk. Well then..." He mumbled to himself, then chucked his sword over to Ven.
"You will challenge me one on one." He said.
"Why should we let you do that?" Asked Largo, smirking.
"I cant gauge my skill if I'm against multipule opponents. It's unfair." He simply replied.
"Boohoo. Do you know what is also unfair? Getting killed because you were stupid enough to attack a large grouped of armed, trained knights."
"Hey, I don't back away from a challenge."
"I like this guy." Said Ash, nodding in approval.
"It's ok. I'll fight him." Said Ven, then he jerked his head downwards and whispered to himself. "Stupid, stupid!"
A knight handed Ven a sword and he took it, stepping forward.
Ash looked a little dejected but he stepped back, and glared at the other knights to do the same. Largo grimmaced and Lily looked like she was about to be physically sick with worry.
The boy in front of him, holding another, much larger sword, and looking much more impressive in his coat compared to Ven who was still wearing rags from the village. Ven also felt the weight of the sword. It was heavy, a burden. How did people lift these things so effortlessly? This was a shortsword, too. Regardless, Ven held the sword with both hands and gulped, trying to be brave. His heart was in the right place, and he also knew that if he dodged the lightning it should be possible to attack him while the lights and time it takes to use distract him... yeah, this could work. He practiced a swing. Yeah. No bad, the swing was lighter than the grip.
"My name is Acemu. Raiark Acemu. Now adress yourself." He demanded.
Ven took a deep breath as he steadied his shaking limbs.
"Ven." He responded.
"Ven? Odd name. And no family name, you must be without a family." Raiark observed.
Ven suddenly felt a vein throb in my head.
"I-" He began.
"Haha, an orphan with nothing to loose, how tragic. I'm glad I picked you. Now have at you!" He yelled and instantly dashed forward, his sparks not activated. Ven felt for an instance the embarrassment of someone refusing to go all out. He dodged clumsily, shirt getting ripped by the sword.
Ven brought the sword down on Raiark's back, who turned around like a dancer and blocked, flinging away Ven's clumsy strike and kicking him in the stomach. Winded, Ven doubled over, clutching his chest.
"Pathetic." Stated Raiark, effortlessly swinging his sword over his shoulder. Ven felt something dark. He remembered back to not a few days ago when Ash had been beaten up much worse than this. And Ash had gotten up. It looked so simple. "Come on... move..." He panted as he struggled to his knees, then slumped. He had been kicked once in the chest, yet his body hardened by 17 years of nonstop handwork, tending crops, walking up the hill, milking, carrying packages, it meant nothing. His body was locked down, convulsions as he tried to take a simple breath rippled down him as he pushed his muscles. Then he saw Ash, shaking his head in bewilderment and disappointment. Ven was his first friend, who showed him the ropes and fed him briefly, yet a wimp who couldn't take a punch. Something Dark. "It's just a barrier... get up." He growled to himself and he struggled to his feet, his breathing now returning. Being winded wasn't a real wound, just an inconvenience.
Hope restored, and Ven took a swing at Raiark who reactively blocked and dragged his larger sword over Ven's borrowed one, it was about to stop at Ven's neck when Ven, learning, decided to kick Raiark in the chest in replication. Raiark took a step backward and flung back his sword, then as Ven admired footwork that wasted no time, flung the sword back at Ven. Ven tried blocking however Ven's grip was limp, it his the sword and the sword moved with it, then out of Ven's grip and flung far behind him. The sword struck Ven in the face, leaving a deep gash. Ven screamed in pain a Raiark stared. Ven clasped his hands over his face to try and stop the bleeding. It was hot, and painful. More than the usual cut or scrape he had had that stung a little, he felt dizzy as blood from all around his body rushed to who knows where, his brain began to ache, and the rest of his body felt cold. He had been struck in the skull, lucky. Nothing like the gut, which Ash had walked off within a few days. He just felt it, the hopelessness.
Ven fell to the ground and took away his hands. He saw the pure green grace stained red, and the sword. He desperately needed the sword, this wasn't a job for fists. He crawled over, dragging his bloodied hand over the earth, squirming around in the undergrowth like a worm. He gasped for air as he reached out for the sword. He took it, and fumbled for the handle as he tried to get a firm grip on it, with his hands now slippery with blood. With his complete, he began lifting himself. He lifted his body up, then began to sit upwards and take his hands up from the ground. It was slow, but he was getting there. Just as he was almost ready to stand completely, he felt a foot come crashing down on his back, leaving him face down on the ground. The foot remained on him. Ven couldn't see anything but the dirt but he imagined Ash, and began lifting himself again, the foot still on him. But then the foot landed on him again, stamping on him. Then it stopped and Ven could only hear ringing in his ears and dissonant yelling as he closed his eyes to darkness, and cried a single salty red tear.
The boy smiled, and did not reply.
"You get on my nerves..." Said Ash, striding towards their assailant.
The boy raised his sword and sparks crackled as Ash approached, the other knights and Largo stepped forward, drawing their swords. There was tension as both sides waited for the other to make the first move.
The boy then looked around.
"I see your knights. Tsk. Well then..." He mumbled to himself, then chucked his sword over to Ven.
"You will challenge me one on one." He said.
"Why should we let you do that?" Asked Largo, smirking.
"I cant gauge my skill if I'm against multipule opponents. It's unfair." He simply replied.
"Boohoo. Do you know what is also unfair? Getting killed because you were stupid enough to attack a large grouped of armed, trained knights."
"Hey, I don't back away from a challenge."
"I like this guy." Said Ash, nodding in approval.
"It's ok. I'll fight him." Said Ven, then he jerked his head downwards and whispered to himself. "Stupid, stupid!"
A knight handed Ven a sword and he took it, stepping forward.
Ash looked a little dejected but he stepped back, and glared at the other knights to do the same. Largo grimmaced and Lily looked like she was about to be physically sick with worry.
The boy in front of him, holding another, much larger sword, and looking much more impressive in his coat compared to Ven who was still wearing rags from the village. Ven also felt the weight of the sword. It was heavy, a burden. How did people lift these things so effortlessly? This was a shortsword, too. Regardless, Ven held the sword with both hands and gulped, trying to be brave. His heart was in the right place, and he also knew that if he dodged the lightning it should be possible to attack him while the lights and time it takes to use distract him... yeah, this could work. He practiced a swing. Yeah. No bad, the swing was lighter than the grip.
"My name is Acemu. Raiark Acemu. Now adress yourself." He demanded.
Ven took a deep breath as he steadied his shaking limbs.
"Ven." He responded.
"Ven? Odd name. And no family name, you must be without a family." Raiark observed.
Ven suddenly felt a vein throb in my head.
"I-" He began.
"Haha, an orphan with nothing to loose, how tragic. I'm glad I picked you. Now have at you!" He yelled and instantly dashed forward, his sparks not activated. Ven felt for an instance the embarrassment of someone refusing to go all out. He dodged clumsily, shirt getting ripped by the sword.
Ven brought the sword down on Raiark's back, who turned around like a dancer and blocked, flinging away Ven's clumsy strike and kicking him in the stomach. Winded, Ven doubled over, clutching his chest.
"Pathetic." Stated Raiark, effortlessly swinging his sword over his shoulder. Ven felt something dark. He remembered back to not a few days ago when Ash had been beaten up much worse than this. And Ash had gotten up. It looked so simple. "Come on... move..." He panted as he struggled to his knees, then slumped. He had been kicked once in the chest, yet his body hardened by 17 years of nonstop handwork, tending crops, walking up the hill, milking, carrying packages, it meant nothing. His body was locked down, convulsions as he tried to take a simple breath rippled down him as he pushed his muscles. Then he saw Ash, shaking his head in bewilderment and disappointment. Ven was his first friend, who showed him the ropes and fed him briefly, yet a wimp who couldn't take a punch. Something Dark. "It's just a barrier... get up." He growled to himself and he struggled to his feet, his breathing now returning. Being winded wasn't a real wound, just an inconvenience.
Hope restored, and Ven took a swing at Raiark who reactively blocked and dragged his larger sword over Ven's borrowed one, it was about to stop at Ven's neck when Ven, learning, decided to kick Raiark in the chest in replication. Raiark took a step backward and flung back his sword, then as Ven admired footwork that wasted no time, flung the sword back at Ven. Ven tried blocking however Ven's grip was limp, it his the sword and the sword moved with it, then out of Ven's grip and flung far behind him. The sword struck Ven in the face, leaving a deep gash. Ven screamed in pain a Raiark stared. Ven clasped his hands over his face to try and stop the bleeding. It was hot, and painful. More than the usual cut or scrape he had had that stung a little, he felt dizzy as blood from all around his body rushed to who knows where, his brain began to ache, and the rest of his body felt cold. He had been struck in the skull, lucky. Nothing like the gut, which Ash had walked off within a few days. He just felt it, the hopelessness.
Ven fell to the ground and took away his hands. He saw the pure green grace stained red, and the sword. He desperately needed the sword, this wasn't a job for fists. He crawled over, dragging his bloodied hand over the earth, squirming around in the undergrowth like a worm. He gasped for air as he reached out for the sword. He took it, and fumbled for the handle as he tried to get a firm grip on it, with his hands now slippery with blood. With his complete, he began lifting himself. He lifted his body up, then began to sit upwards and take his hands up from the ground. It was slow, but he was getting there. Just as he was almost ready to stand completely, he felt a foot come crashing down on his back, leaving him face down on the ground. The foot remained on him. Ven couldn't see anything but the dirt but he imagined Ash, and began lifting himself again, the foot still on him. But then the foot landed on him again, stamping on him. Then it stopped and Ven could only hear ringing in his ears and dissonant yelling as he closed his eyes to darkness, and cried a single salty red tear.
