Open Concept [Closed]

[Nein]

Golden lengths of a soft sun poured through the thin slats that covered the opening of a window, their gentle warmth caressing the soft features of a young man until he slowly opened his eyes. Peering around the room through the dark hair cast about his face, Drenn smiled for a moment in the early morning wonder. Still unsteady, he stretched quietly, throwing aside the light cotton covers of his bedding and enjoying the peace while it was granted.


. . .

Such hospitality was renowned throughout Corone, though the foreigner thought little of it until he was caught in the heart of a great storm. Since then his clothes had dried out but the kindness and patience of these monks had surpassed his expectations. Only later would he learn of their purpose, as strident shouts drew his attention towards the battle grounds of the Citadel.

Two men clad in armour exchanged blows, carefully pacing in a familiar pattern before attempting to strike another once again. Beneath them stirred a slight cloud of the dirt they sparred upon, and despite their vigour, stayed within the center of this perfectly round setting. Often, metal would clash against metal, a screech interrupted only by the occasional shout. Drenn watched the men carefully from empty stands, following their movements with his eyes while leaning against the weathered railing.


“You believe the lie, where there is truth.”

Sitting comfortably upon a bench that had been vacant minutes before, an elderly man also looked out over the fighting pair. Such a strange little man, he bore a small cap on a bald head, accented by great eyebrows and a greater beard.

Seconds passed slowly, while Drenn said nothing.

“What?”


As the elderly man nodded in response, he motioned with a single finger to the men below, currently engaged in opposing stances.

“Look.”

“I am.”

Somewhat put off with the unclear message, Drenn couldn’t understand what the man was trying to say. Truth or lie did little to affect the outcome of a single fight, where combatants faced one other and their ability. So whether he believe a lie or truth was rather irrelevant, considering the circumstances.

Though an annoyed glance behind him towards the elderly man revealed that the bench was once again empty, and the man was nowhere to be seen. Only the slow closing of large door gave way to the man’s direction. Somewhat lulled by curiosity, and the intent of questioning the man’s purpose, Drenn followed and took each step towards the door by two.


. . .

Along a series of corridors, he had followed the distant echoes of light steps. Only when the led into another arena did Drenn take in his surroundings. It seemed less like an arena than a garden of sorts, absent of stands, of grounds to fight, weaponry to utilize or anything that would represent a contest of ability.

Sliding a hand over the worn features of an old wooden railing, the young man stopped to look out over the gardens, leaning slightly against the weathered rest. Beyond the portico lay a large flat of course sand, though finely groomed. Several large stones stood unopposed in the corners, with a lone bell tower in the very center of the groomed sand flats. Soft milky stones formed a flat pathway across the flats to the bell tower, where the green of plants and other flowers could be seen.

It might’ve been beautiful, had Drenn known to take in and appreciate his surroundings. As long as he looked for the old man, he would not understand the purpose of the rock garden.


“You will understand, in time.”
Words spoken of the old man, yet he remained to be seen, as did anything else. Save a caretaker who carefully raked the sand flats around him, Drenn was alone in this place.


It was then that the opposing door, across the flats, began to open.

[AsukaStrikes]

"With Time, understand, you shall"

Soft sunlight streamed through multicolored glass, painting the cold granite walls of the Citadel a light shade of orange, green and red. Red as the color of blood. Red as the color of her hair.

Red as the color of her heritage.

What does it mean...

Asuka wondered over the mystic message, hearing them from a decrepit old man she had met in a small, family-run inn on her way to Radasanth. The two of them spoke little the entire time, but mainly because there was nothing to speak about at all. She was heading north to gather information. He seemed to just be another regular of the bars, seemingly always knowing how much each slice of bread and each glass of water would cost. They were not on the same page of any book and the maiden thought it was obvious.

Still, what he said to her still remained lodged in her mind.

What is it that I need to understand?

There was nothing to understand, for all she cared. That was one reason why she came to the Citadel - To cleaer her mind with a random fight against a random nobody. No one truly dies at the Citadel and no true grudges forged here either.

No loss to risk. No life to worry about taking.

But all she needed was to clear her head.

"Still... I wonder where she is..."

Asuka stared out the window next to the stain-glass artwork, musing at the lush green canopies and the cacophany of birds engaged in their daily chatters with their friends. The maiden wished she could just stop all of what she was doing and do just that. If anyone could bear with her long enough.

"Ugh... Enough of this moping, I need a quickie..."

Dismissing her thoughts and throwing them to the wind, the fiery-hair swordmaiden spun casually on her hard-sole boots and trudged off towards a room near the far end of the stone corridor. ''

There's nothing to understand, Girl. Asuka spoke silently to herself, running a hand through her hair before giving herself a reassuring tug at her collar. The air was cool and crisp, the usual uplifting breeze that normally stirred her emotions and calmed her spirits. Today, however, she felt just a slight bit of chill. Just enought to make her pull at her jacket in annoyance.

Which reminds me to buy a jacket with actual sleeves...


~ ~ ~

The monks of Ai'Bron, keeper of the Citadel in times of peace and turmoil, led Asuka through the maze of corridors and walkways until they had reaced a battle arena set up and ready for a fight. This was not the first time she had been in the Citadel, but even now it continued to feel unfamiliar to her. How was one supposed to be revived after death? A question that still had her puzzled and somewhat reluctant.

What, are you kidding? How many times have I stared down Death before, you stupid girl?

The maiden let out a derisive scoff, disdain with her own self-confidence.

It'll be nothing, I tell you. Just relax and get the fight started. Nothin' to it.

Pushing the heavy doors open with gloved hands, Asuka entered the arena.

"Well... Haven't seen this in a while..."

With leather boots tapping in steady beats against the solid wooden planks underfoot, the Akashiman wandered out onto the resting platform and casted her sights about. Small, ebony gravels weaved around solitary spires of dark stone and a tower, all in awe at what the monks were capable of tending and how they came upon the idea.

Just like back home...

There was little the maiden knew about the rock garden she had seen in her younger years, knowing only that it was a form of meditation to a certain religion. She was no woman of faith, but seeing their seamless beauty was somehow soothing and enlightening.

Home... That word just has a strange ring to it.

A part of her wanted to dwell more on the meditation, but another part knew this was no ordinary garden. This was the Citadel, after all, and these arenas have a purpose.

The maiden casually swept her eyes about the area, jumping from the stone formation around the outside of the pool of white waves and tracing the line of milky walkway towards the opposite end of the room.

There, stood a man fit for a fight.

"I don't suppose you're here to look at the rocks, Mister?" Asuka shouted across the room, glancing to watch the tending monk calmly leave the arena to the two fighters. "Or do you have something else in mind?"

This is the Citadel, after all. Asuka thought as she tugged at her fingerless black gloves, a clear line of rough stitches stretching across the knuckles of her left pair. What else is there to do?

[Nein]

It might’ve been beautiful.


It might very well have been a number of other inconceivable ideals, that rock garden within those coarse sand flats, if such an instance of beauty hadn’t already caught his eye. Sunlight danced across lustrous locks, skewing a soft copper tone across the fair skin beneath it. Still, the apparent hilt betrayed her otherwise lithe and innocent form.

So much for first impressions.

As far as Drenn was able to tell, she appeared rather proper and perhaps a bit too clean to be wielding the blade that remained sheathed behind her; little else could be determined at such distance. Smirking in absent thought, Drenn eyed the girl as she shouted towards him.


"Or do you have something else in mind?"

“Perhaps,” he shouted back.

Such incessant rousing clouded his judgement, and so the young man would play blind, hoping that her otherwise hidden intentions would be made known. “Interested?”

[AsukaStrikes]

Interested, I am.

The manner of his reply prompted an amused chuckle from the normally moody lass. She could feel the anticipation building within, raising goosebumps along her bare arms and the tingling sensation at the nape pf her neck. This was the Citadel, she kept telling herself. Anyone here was either looking to fight or was forced in one way or another. To her, Drenn looked a bit out of place - His ragged clothes and casual stance showed neither finess nor potential for a competent combatant.

He could just be a visitor to the Citadel who happened to wander into the wrong room at the wrong time.

... What did I tell you about underestimating your opponent, Asuka?

The maiden harshly reprimended herself, shaking away the notion with her head.

Always remember that you can't judge what you see...

She would have to remember that well if she wanted to win...

"You do know this is the Citadel, mister." Asuka shouted across the tranquil garden, nodding a head towards the monk weaving long circular lines around a gigantic black stone spire. The robed man glanced at the two fighters with slow, calm eyes and departed the grounds, taking the forked rake with him.

Now... The two of them were truly alone.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" The swordmaiden stated, casually striding down to the stony path with her head held high. The steady tick tack drumming of her leather heels against solid stones echoed across the domed arena, coming to a stop with sharp glaks near the center of the stone path.

"Name's Asuka, just so you know. I'd like to know who I'm fighting, too, if you don't mind."

The maiden grinned as she took off her belt, placing the sheathed Kazeryu around one the stony pillar off to the side. She had decided that she would do fine without Kazeryu's aid. Besides, fighting an unarmed opponent would only be fair if she was unarmed as well.

"Alright, you. Come on whenever you're ready."

Asuka stood with hands on hips, waiting for her opponent to tread the arena with her. No matter, she would have fun.

A fight in the Citadel... How long she had longed for such a fight where she could lose herself without worry...

[Nein]

Business in the Citadel?

Of what he knew the Citadel to be, the only business conducted within the towering stone walls had been the art of war, and the act of healing. Perhaps fault could be found in his understandings, that foreign status he still retained, but little else went on within these grounds. As far as Drenn could tell, she was already well, as was he…


… a fight.

Indeed, the approachable girl insisted on a fight.

It became hard to control his disbelief, the laughter that threatened to break his portrayed appearance, however serious she had seemed about the request. Not so, seconds later, as the reality of his situation set it and her intentions remained clear.


“Names Asuka, just so you know.”

Shame marked the man’s face as he watched her disarm, clearly noting the honourable intentions she held. It wasn’t his place to question her request; it hadn’t been during his training on Fallien, and it would not be here.

“Pleasure. It’s Drenn, just so you know.” In his playful response, he smiled - an unusual occurrence.


"Alright, you. Come on whenever you're ready."

Standing prominently amidst the sand flats, hands on her hips, Asuka; the young man’s gentle smile turned to an amused smirk. Cute, perhaps the only description he could assume at such a moment.

Do it.

Insane as the idea was, fighting a stranger for little less than amusement, there was nothing to lose and still she insisted. Stepping down into the arena, Drenn tore the light desert cloak from his shoulders and tossed it carelessly towards the aged wooden railing, where it promptly fell to the groomed flats below. In the soft sun, careful shadows were now cast across his toned arms, flexing as he advanced with certain vigilance in each step.

On opposing faces of the flats, he found those emerald eyes with his own.

It was her move now.

[AsukaStrikes]

Clever and witty, impressive.

More often than not, Asuka had to fight dumb brutes who had neither courtesy nor honor to as much as give her their names. This "Dren" before her was different, as the cloak came off in a flash, and a genuine smile crossed her lips. She would finally get the chance to duel against someone who actually cared of tactics, or so she thought. Gone were the days of simple hack and slash - Behold, the Dance of Winding Souls.

"Show me what you've got!"

The maiden made haste and launched at her foe, right fist at her waist and left near her chin. The maddening blur of red whipped through the cool, still air, exciting the garden breeze as they came to witness a dance of wits and feats. However, the maiden knew the folly of her ways and hesitated on outright offensive. Too many times she underestimated the opposition - Too many times her efforts came to nil. Too many times she forgot to gauge their strength.

Feet ablaze, the copper-hair maiden veered to her left and swung a backhand for Drenn's face, moreso to test his reflex than to cause any real harm. Not intending to stop for another strike, she pushed pass the wind and slid upon the grainy flats, interrupting the uniformed waves of balmy glow.

Shall we dance? The maiden glanced up, a playful grin showing through messy locks of red.

[Nein]

Easy


Pushing gently through the groomed sands, the young man widened his stance, easing into a calm disposition to offset continued judgement. Yes, there was little doubt that she was eyeing him. Drenn stepped as she did, carefully sidestepping left as she approached. Noting an unusual deftness upon her imminent charge, he had little time to react until she swung.


“Tease…”


It rolled off his tongue with a lucid allure, even as he continued his sidestep to avoid being struck, though with a clearly more nimble pace. Sharing her grin, Drenn left the shadows of his tranquil demeanour and acted sharply upon it – striding fourth and displacing her stance, a la sacada (http://www.tejastango.com/terminology.html#sacada).

Likely the resulting reaction would cause her fall…


… would he catch her?

I couldn't resist, -wink!-

[AsukaStrikes]

Guh-!

Snagged from her usual rhythm, the maiden of the sword flashed an accusing glare as her body leaned forward, her knee against Drenn's leg. She also heard his coy announcement, childish but amusing, and decided that harshness was unappropriate. After all, she invited him in for the bout and she would make sure to have some fun before letting it all loose.

The soles of her left boot scraped a long trench in the sand, kicking up a small cloud of dry yellowish haze in its wake. However, that was not enough to slow down her momentum nor provide enough stability for her to remain standing up. So if she was to fall...

Well, why not?

She knew that dark-skin man had a trick or two up his sleeves waiting, but she was not going to give him the pleasure of using it. As Asuka's lithe frame swung around her opponent's sturdy shoulders, she coyly passed him a wink and leaned back into the sandy flats, clamping the man's muscular legs between her own.

If she was going down, so would he.

You asked for it. -wink!-

[Taskmienster]

This thread has been waiting for over a year. If you would like to complete it, or work on it further, you can PM myself or another staff member and ask for it to be moved. However, till that time, it will be resting in the Citadel Archive forum.

Thanks,
~Task