These Lonely Walls

[Flamebird]

Through the pollen, Felicity had to squint as she watched the glowing giant shrink. Using one of the arms as a substitute for his nonexistent one, Hayate obliged to her demands.

Wow, that actually worked.

The victory party for this was about to be cancelled, however. Through the yellow smog, a short blade flew towards her. Her head still seemed to spin. Her parry was completely off, her blade swiping against thin air. The Akashiman blade left a small puncture wound in the area between her chest and left shoulder. Thankfully, the momentum was not that huge, but blood still slid down her frame. Her eyes were silted with venom as the fresh strength and dangerous anger overtook her, numbing the pain. As a flash of silver light shone through the stuffy pollen, she raised her delyn sword. As the aura of her radiation poisoning unraveled around her, the *shling* of two swords meeting echoed across these lonely walls.

As the pollen began to clear, they stood. Blades locked. Her teeth were gritted as he warned her not to disappoint him. In a surge of rage with no source, she pushed him off, screaming, “Yeah right!”

Her swings were not necessarily crude or undisciplined. She was trained and lethal, yet the magic induced vexation did do something to her psyche. Her posture was tighter and more spontaneous; her swings shaped from training and discipline, yet deranged and randomized. For a short moment, she took full offense. She aimed for him, but with no tactics. She showed practiced skill, but no coordination. Then she came to…

Her red with rage eyes could not exactly catch the damage she had done – or if she did any damage at all – yet, her magic ran out. She took a step or so back, wincing at not only the sharp sting in her new wound, but the aching throbbing within her underarm, plus the mild ringing in her head. She winced, sword kept in a defensive posture. I found out his magic's weakness, will he find out mine?

…

I hope not.

Taking a more neutral fighting stance, she recollected her surroundings. The sky above, peaking from the broken roof, was starting to dim. Grey clouds were beginning to form. She was just at the edge of the massive patch of plants. The pollen had died down, her opponent visible and very much alive. The low rumble of thunder, a growl from the cloud’s deep throat, vibrated across the landscape as the battle continued.

Felicity gritted her teeth, another form of anger swelling in her chest. Call me a disappointment, will you? So many called me that before, but you’ll learn your lesson!

This was a fight for proof. Proof of her value. Here she was, judging her self-worth by whether or not she won this match. It was dangerous, more dangerous than any magic or weapon in this courtyard. It was a lethal game, basing one’s worth off their skills and abilities rather than who they were. Taking long steps through the tall grass, the sound of crushing plants sounded as she raised her sword in a wrath guard. Now more cautious, with her emotions channeled into the refining and discipline of her sword, she made her second furious flurry of attacks.

This time, however, she had a plan.

As the clouds gathered in the sky, causing shadows to shift across the dim room, her eyes were glazed with a thinly veiled darkness. She aimed her blade for his throat, eyes locked on it, then swiftly stopped the blade. It was a feint. She sharply changed course, green eyes not giving away her true target: his chest.

A single rain drop fell on the petal of a blue flower. Would blood fall too?