The Battle Under a Full Moon on a Cool Night

[Ioder]

3470

The moon was high in the night sky shinning brightly over the rocky coastline. The sound of crashing waves fully surrounded Ioder on all sides as he sat perched atop the highest cliff. He a bird of pray and his opponent, whomever the unlucky sap would be, a mouse. Ioder held his wings over his shoulder, letting his beautiful wings cover his body like a blanket fighting off the cold salty winds. This was perfect, his arena was utterly impeccable. Perfect down to the smell of the air, this was the first time Ioder was truly impressed bye the handsome work done by the monks of the citadel. Ioder caught himself in mid grin thinking about how he would have to thank whomever built this masterpiece.

Ioder let his eyes wander taking in everything possible about his surroundings, like any predator would he had to learn his hunting ground. To the north about half a click there was a line of traitorous jetties along the length of the cost. And just to the south a cove area where Ioder was ported in at, presumably he would first make contact with his opponent there. East was the direction of the island dotted ocean, and west was the beginnings of a dark forest.

"I wonder, just how long until these snow white sands are stained red?" Ioder found himself thinking out loud. "Ooooh and also I wonder who's it will be? Ha Ha Ha!" Ioder went off finding it funny in some way. Ioder stood up proudly extending his wings completely, letting his every feather get ticked by the salt air. "This ill be fun! Yeah this ill be fun." And with his final word he jump forward, off his perch into a nose dive. Faster and faster he fell, with wings tucked Ioder fell blindly, freely towards the rocky shore at the basin of the cliff.

Thump.

Ioder at last moment extended his wings and with a gust of sea wind his wings jerked him up and back. He rode the gust for a moment before gently landing of the white sand. Once both feet were planted firmly and his center of balance affirmed Ioder draped his wings back over him like a white cloak.

Now it was a waiting game.

[Eyvik]

Moonlight glistened off the faintly whispering waters. Waves washed up on the snow white shore, then flowed away in serenity. Where he stood with his toes dug into the sand, Eyvik watched the world flow past. His thoughts were far from violence, a world away from the Althanas he had run from for so long. There were no shadows of Alerar to nip at his heels. No hired hands had hunted him to this place with thoughts of turning his blood to coin.

Eyvik was an oddity. Lithe and stoic, he stood swathed in dark clothes. Strange tribal tattoos lined his toned arms and danced as he rapped his fingers against bicep thoughtfully. Despite his freedom, he still felt shackled.

Both of the youth's pale peachy eyes were fixed on the moon. When he heard the sound of laughter in the distance, Eyvik glanced away sadly. "Someone always finds a way to ruin my night," he observed, ever the pessimist. There was no audacity in his words, and his demeanor was free from malice. Unlike most men, even the abstract thought of violence did not put Eyvik on edge.

He turned with fluid grace, and the wind greeted him with callous uncertainty. On high, a strange creature rode the updraft and glided with masterful delicacy to stand at odds with Eyvik. "It is a beautiful night," he uttered conversationally, uninterested in the minced words and high emotions of combat. It was plain to see the contempt in his adversary; the bloodlust dripped from his being like blood from an open wound. "It is a shame to waste it."

Succinct and serene as ever, the strange ivory blade slipped free from his hip and fell to his side. He stood relaxed across from the angelic man. "Let's hurry," Eyvik intoned, "there was supposed to be a starfall tonight. I'd like to see that."

[Ioder]

Ioder watched as the man held firm to his ivory blade, re-positioning it from waist to hand as he readied himself. The seraphim too moved for his weapon, he loosened his sash from around his waist and gently felt the weights at each end. This would be the first time he would try to use this weapon in real time combat and he was proud of that. As he undid his sash he studied the man. He appeared to be another blonde swordsman on the surface but his tattoos would Intel more than what meets the eye.

“Well, I would hate to make you miss that now. We can make this quick if you would like?” Ioder said as he started to swing his sash like the soft weapon it was behind his frame. His wings still graced his shoulders like a cape of white feathers. "If for any reason your code demands a fair and even fight, my name is Ioder of the Tarot Hierarchy. I have placed this challenge and you have accepted it." And with him uttering these final words the angel attacked. With great speed and reflexes Ioder leapt forward now just beyond a sword swing away from the boy. The Ivory swordsman was ready like any would be entering the Citadel. As Ioder swung his sash at the boy he ducked under it and advanced a step or so slashing downward at the angel.

“Yeah let’s do that.” The boy said as he slashed again and again at Ioder. Ioder maneuvered with great speed dipping and ducking away from the boys blade. It seemed as if both men on first glance were highly skilled fighters neither of them were even breaking a sweat.

Ioder side stepped to the left and dropped to his knees in the white sand gripping both weights of his sash in either hand. The foam of the sea crashing on the shore almost washed over him as he swept at the boy with his leg. The angel allowed the boy to react once again to his strike before erupting upward with one Damascus weight in hand in hopes to crack the bow right in the jaw.

[Eyvik]

A gentle breeze washed around them as the two seemed to glide effortlessly around one another. The strange angelic man moved with a labored effort, like his movements required concentration. Eyvik noticed the smallest gaps in each motion, each muscle taut in the instant it should have been unrestricted. His lips twisted in a frown.

His opponent danced in a skillful circle around him and whipped his sash round like a weapon. The balls on either end swooshed and made a low rumble in the air, and Eyvik noticed too late that one was on a collision course with his face.

His eyes locked on the heavy ball as it impacted his cheek, and searing pain exploded across his world.

"You're toying around," he observed quietly. It was not anger that flooded the youth as his knuckles were washed white. His blade went rigid, and his gaze hardened.

As the weighted weapon fell away, it left a painful looking welt in its place. Eyvik spat a gob of blood to the sand, where it landed with a wet smack. Around them, the air felt thick and hot, and the wind had gone still. "You're still standing," Ioder observed with mild annoyance in his voice. "But that's good! I'm just getting started! Oh, this will be fun!"

"I'm not so quick," he admitted. It was sobering to hear someone admit fault in the heat of battle; Eyvik had been taught that the means to defeating weakness came from introspection and self-actualization. Hours of gruesome single combat rife with blood and sweat had taught him that mistakes were fledgling discoveries. Faced with an unexpected obstacle, Eyvik stood tall. "But I will be disappointed if this is how you choose to fight me."

Ioder broke from his fit of manic giggles and tilted his head. The seraphim furrowed his brow in consideration. "You," he questioned, "are talking down to me?"

In answer, Eyvik shifted and raised his sword.

The spear of heat in his cheek dulled slowly and he scrunched his face to gauge the severity of damage. A quick bite from the nerve cluster reminded him that they were bruised. "Now, show me what you've got."

[Ioder]

Ioder stood opposite Eyvik with his sash readily in both hands. He held firm to enchanted garment, tugging at it for a few moments. He was contemplating what the man hand just said. It was true that he wasn’t really fighting at his fullest, but it was also true that if he were to fight with his full power things would be over much sooner. He was caught in a conundrum; either fight Eyvik with his full power and finish this fight early, or disrespect his opponent by holding back.

“Alright,” he said as he started to wrap his sash around his body. “I’ll treat you with the respect you deserve.” Ioder said as he tied off the ends of his sash letting his weight rest on his right hip. As he did he extended his left wing up and out letting it fall to its natural rest on his back. He did the same with his right, but revealing that he was fully equipped to oblige Eyvik Strapped at Ioder’s side was his unique blade. This Damascus blade extended out from the wrist of a gauntlet which houses a mini Yew bow. “But don’t be disappointed when this is over before you know it.”

Ioder reached down and slipped his hand into the gauntlet and quickly assumed a fighter’s stance with his weapon. He swiped with his arm left and right testing his reaction speed and his range of motion. It had been a while since he had to use his blade, and to truly test this worrier required the bitter sting of steel. In his free hand he grasped with a loose fist some sort of glaring light that shinned clearly through his fingers.

"C'mon!" he yelled and with the quickness of a hare spring unto action. With one large flap of his mighty wings Ioder launched himself forward at Eyvik. This was no longer his play time, now Ioder was focused and ready to show this guy a good fight.

No matter the cost.