Tales of Blackwood: Sparring
The Tsaesci stood against the Saint, twin blades of steel drawn at her sides, glistening scales of gold shining in the late afternoon sun. She was unarmoured for a change, but she felt no shame. It was common for the Tsaesci to abandon their armor mid fight and to use their natural scales as protection. As the clouds parted, a ray of sunshine fell down into the forest, making the serpent’s scales warm to touch. She smiled and stretched her long neck upwards, feeling relaxed.
The Saint circled the serpent; her eyes alit with inquisitiveness at the figure before her. Never had she seen her slithering companion without her armor, and the sight both awakened the curiosity in her soul and mind as she admired the creature. Each scale was perfectly poised against the next, coloured a deep gold but tinged with a touch of brown. Scars crossed her chest, each perfectly straight and narrow, slowly heading down her underbelly and crossing over horizontal scars. One more set crossed over her left eye, three long marks, like a claw… The claws of a Ka Po’ Tun. Then there was her tail, long and slender, but her body was riddled with the muscle of three centuries service to her people’s military.
As the Saint passed by, the Tsaesci’s green eyes met the Saint’s blue ones and they issued a silent challenge, a challenge to spar. She rolled her shoulders back as she looked upon the Saint, her lips spreading into a smirk. Oh yes, she did expect an easy win, of course she did. The Saint might have been like her, unique for their people, but she was a simple preacher, no more deadly than a hatchling. Internally, the Tsaesci laughed. Was it arrogant? Possibly.
The Saint smiled and unsheathed her own blade, one that she recently acquired from the Tsaesci herself. A katana of Orichalcum, but lacking the brutality of normal Orcish weapon, smoothed to the tip and its wooden handle wrapped in cloth and reinforced with another darkened metal. The Saint swung it loosely, feeling how the impeccable blade felt in her hand. It has been named by the Tsaesci too: Fiir'dross Rhan, or in the common tongue, Rhan the Coward-Killer. She had added that last part, of course. Just something to remember her Tsaesci friend by.
“No armor. No spells. Only my blade against yours, tsic aejude,” the Tsaesci spoke now, hissing lightly but not with malice. As she said this, she impaled the blade that was held in her left hand into the grass beside before creeping forward, grasping her remaining one tightly with both hands.
The Saint nodded and grasped her sword tightly. “As you wish,” she answered, looking determined. “Shall we proceed?” A small smile crept onto her face as she gazed at the Tsaesci, almost quivering with glee. She knew the Tsaesci underestimated her, but she did not mind. Many had before, and many had let that be their downfall.
The Tsaesci nodded as she coiled her tail behind her, looking ready to spring forward at the closest hint of action. No emotion showed as she raised her free hand and made a movement with it, a signal for the Saint to begin. She kept her sword poised in front of her, prepared to strike… Or was it to deflect?
And so, the Saint smiled and came forward, slowly at first, but then quickened her pace into a sprint. She threw her sword forward and caught the Tsaesci’s under it, but the serpent simply parried it, almost looking bored. “Really, irnes’kil…” she smiled. “Easily blocked.”
The Tsaesci spun and drove her blade forward, towards the Imperial’s midriff. The Saint blocked it swiftly and easily, before she laughed a sweet sound. “Come on, friend, is that all you can do? You are a Tsaesci, the best swordswomen in the world, no?”
“We are, but I was only going easy on you, aejude. For if I wanted you dead… You would be a corpse on the floor.” The Tsaesci smirked and chuckled darkly after her statement.
The Saint was not worried. She knew the Tsaesci well enough to recognise a joke, despite her cold tone. The Tsaesci was talented with her words, able to taunt her opponents into a rage before slicing through their gullet. The Saint was not so easily fooled, however. She gripped her sword tighter and circled the serpent, and the snake copied her movement, both not willing to make another move quite yet.
But then the Tsaesci acted and struck first, streaking across the grass of the Hollow and moving towards the Saint, blade held high on her head. She hissed, an angry feral sound, before the sword came down towards the Imperial. But the smaller woman was not a tirmal and she side-stepped quickly, the Tsaesci’s blade coming down beside her and smacking into the grass harmlessly. With two fluid movements, she was past the Tsaesci, her blade swiping at her unarmoured side, sending a line of crimson streaking onto the foliage below.
Fiin tou lee?!” the Serpent snarled before cursing in her native tongue. How could this be? She thought furiously. I am a mighty Tsaesci, and she is a simple healer! She hissed in pain and turned, her scaled hand moving to her ribs and feeling the warm liquid streaming from the wound now puncturing her skin.
The Saint giggled at the Tsaesci’s outburst and pulled her blade back before reattempting another strike at the Tsaesci’s spine. But the serpent turned and caught it, parrying the blow away and began to attack with a series of quick stripes from her katana, looking rage-driven. Each was blocked or dodged by the Imperial, who was still giggling at the great serpent’s attack.
Quickly, the Tsaesci switched tactics and darted to the side, dodging the Saint’s strike and swiped across the Imperial’s sword arm, slicing her bicep and staining her robes red. She showed no pain at this wound but instead simply smiled at the great serpent. “About time!” she joked, teasing her friend.
The Tsaesci smirked and spun her sword in her scaled hand, before clenching it tight with the other. Again and again, the Saint and Tsaesci would circle, then strike, parrying blows, striking at unarmoured bodies and staining the grass a crimson red. Wounds formed and the Tsaesci was coming off second-best.
And finally, it was over. She felt her blade become loose from her hand as a vicious strike from the Saint ripped the katana right out of her hand. The healer then darted forward with surprising speed and drove the hilt of Fiir’Dross into the side of the Tsaesci’s ribs, stunning her slightly. And it was during this moment that the Imperial healer chose to kick at her tail, causing her to slip and fall slightly, before another strong kick to the Serpent’s chest brought her down with a crash.
The Serpent groaned in pain and propped herself up on an elbow, just as the she felt the thinnest edge of a blade at her throat. Her eyes met the Saint’s bright-blue ones, which were alit with glee. She pressed the sword into the Serpent’s throat for a second, so a single bead of blood met metal, before withdrawing it and sheathing it. She was breathing heavy and had blood from several nasty-looking slashes, but was stilling grinning victoriously.
“You got beaten by a little healer!” she teased as she knelt beside the fallen Tsaesci, who seemed to be having trouble accepting the loss and getting back up off the ground. The Saint’s hands filled with golden light as she held them over the snake’s body. “Hold still now...”
As the golden light flooded over the Serpent, she felt her injured body rejuvenate and become whole once more. She exhaled roughly and then opened her mouth wide in a yawn, before stretching and cracking her bones. The Saint then healed her own body, still smiling wide, before falling against the Tsaesci and resting against her companion’s side. She giggled as she stoked the snake’s hood. “I beat you!”
“Shossi, you did...” The Serpent replied back, smiling wryly on the outside, but cursing herself on the inside. It would seem that her small friend was more dangerous then she seemed... And this was a quality she admired quite so. Who would expect a simple Imperial saint to render the flesh from their bones, all while smiling?
The Saint curled up on her side, still leaning against the Tsaesci and hummed happily as she continued her movements. “I’m so happy... Not because I beat you, my friend, but because I am with my one friend.”
The Serpent said nothing at first, merely gazing at the Saint, before she coiled around her and rested her great head on the Saint’s shoulder. Finally, words slipped from her scaled lips into the Imperial’s ear as she rested. “As am I, ahn aejude. As am I....”
~ Tales of Blackwood ToC ~
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