7-5 Masters of blades

“You fancied a single-edged sword?” Erin asked as she observed the weapon in her opponent’s hand.

Azaela nodded. “I see you fancy yourself a longsword. I was under the impression that you wield the blade with precision and grace. The longsword is the preferred blade of a butcher.”

“I wield all manners of blades with precision and grace. A butcher’s weapon would be a cleaver.”

“Only if beasts and creatures are all that one will face, but you hunt men and women too.”

“I do. So, are we going to continue the conversation, or are we going to fight?”

“I’m sure individuals of our talents can do both at the same time,” Azaela said and suddenly lunged at Erin with a slash.

Erin moved before to parry the slash before her conscious mind had even acknowledged the attack.

Azaela refused to let her blade be deflected. She guided her blade like a snake, slithering around Erin’s guard and towards her head.

Erin stepped back and reeled her head away. At the same time, she thrust her sword at Azaela.

The paladin twirled out of the blade’s path and spun into a cut.

Erin caught Azaela’s blade in a lock. They exchanged glances and smiles. Then, they pushed one another away before lunging at each other again to exchange three blows that ended in another cross-lock. “Are you on the reserve?” Erin asked.

“Won’t want to hurt a Fae’s pretty face,” Azaela retorted with a smirk and pushed Erin back a step. “If I don’t reserve my skill, I might cause you to bleed.”

“Reserve one’s strength, not one’s skill. Won’t want you to whine about the results if you’re the one who ended up bleeding.”

Azaela chuckled and broke the deadlock by letting Erin win the contest of strength. Erin’s victory was also her blight. She fell forward without anything to hold her back. Azaela came around with a slash.

Erin put a foot forward, spun on her toes, and parried Azaela’s blade. Erin regained her footing and lunged with a thrust. It was easily deflected, but she came again with a cut. It was blocked and veered away. She came again with a wide slash. It was met with a slash. The two similar attacks bounced off one another. Erin used her tails to stop her momentum and launched herself forward.

Azaela stopped the Fox-kin’s advance with her raised knee. Erin blocked the strike with the flat part of her blade. She rose upright and descended a few strikes upon Azaela in which the latter parried them all and countered with a powerful swing. Her swing clashed with Erin’s own. Using Azaela’s strength, she misguided the paladin’s blade and riposted with a strike from her sword’s pommel. Azaela winced and flinched from having her jaw struck.

Erin pressed on with her attacks, spinning her sword around.

Azaela recovered just in time to guard against Erin’s blade that nearly touched her face. “Do you always fight using underhanded methods?” She riposted.

Erin swatted the thrust away with a twirl of her sword. “I always fight using whatever means to win. One cannot complain about honour if they’re dead.” She attacked again as her sword continued twirling.

Azaela blocked the twirling attack with a firm guard. “Spoken like a seasoned dealer of death.” She pushed back.

“I am no death dealer,” Erin resisted. She turned Azaela’s strength away and lashed her sword out.

Azaela dodged the blade and moved in. “Not consciously.” She sent a flurry of attacks. “How many people have you sent to their deaths by your hands and blades?”

Erin deflected a few blows, dodged a thrust or two, and blocked a heavy strike that nearly turned her own blade against her. “I didn’t kill them for the joy of it.”

Azaela grazed her blade against Erin’s. She shoved and followed with a swing. “Did you not laugh, cheer, and celebrate when you cut down your opponent?”

“I did not!” Erin refuted. Erin’s blade caught the swing; Azaela’s trailed off and went under her guard. With the blade coming for her shoulder, Erin had no choice but to batter the blade away. Her guard was open for that split moment.

“Maybe not outwardly!” Azaela lurched forward. Erin avoided the tackle, but it gave Azaela enough time to reposition herself. She twirled and brought her sword around.

Erin guarded against the heavy blow with both of her hands.

Azaela reached out and caught Erin’s hand in that brief moment of vulnerability. She pulled the Fox-kin in and kneed her in the belly.

Erin retched, but she didn’t leave herself open. She parried a decisive blow and attempted a counter. She failed, not that she expected to succeed. It had been too obvious. When Azaela responded, Erin flipped away from her.

Azaela gave chase. “I know of your recent… plights, Erin.”

Erin fended Azaela away with her tails, but only for a moment. “What would you know about me?”

Azaela lunged. “I had been in the same position as you.”

Erin caught Azaela’s blade. This time, she did not let the paladin’s blade slip around her guard. Their blades ended up slithering together like snakes trying to constrict the other to death. In the end, their blades parted with a grating graze that sent sparks flying. “And what have you experienced before?”

“Scarlet Blade, that's what my enemies tend to call me.”

“I am aware of that.”

“It’s not a title that was simply handed down to me. I earned it, and certainly not because of my… red aura. No, it was not something so beautiful.”

Erin narrowed her gaze.

“You see, I became a paladin not because I was pious, but because I was… vengeful.”

There was a small gasp from Aera, who had been watching everything from the sidelines. She had remained silent until Azaela’s unexpected revelation of her history.

“Like many unfortunate individuals in this world, my family and friends became victims of bandits and monsters. Unlike many of these unfortunate individuals, I wasn’t powerless, not completely. I have no talent for spells and magic, but I do have talents with various arms. The temple of Ruva saw my potential. They took me in, trained me, fed me, clothed me, and in exchange, I hunted down all those who went against Ruva’s teachings, who were all bandits and outlaws. I also hunted monsters. Not a day or an hour went by that my blade wasn’t stained with blood. One night, some of the new blood of the church happened to witness my return from a recent hunt. My sword was drawn, and my blade was stained completely in the blood of my victims. The moon was full that night. The blood-stained blade of my sword, which caught the moonbeam, stood out the most in the eyes of the new blood. From then on, my moniker was born: Scarlet Blade.”

“Looks like you’re doing alright for yourself now.”

“Everyone only sees the present and wanders about the future. They never seem to give much thought to the past.”

“It’s not good to dwell on the past, as they say.”

“That doesn’t mean you should ignore the past. One can learn a great deal from it, just as how you will learn a great deal of my past, and from my past, so that you will not have to walk through the same mud as I had.”

“Your boots look clean.”

“But my feet aren’t. This is not the kind of mud that you can just wash off. You will have to deal with it for the rest of your life. And I see my stained feet every time I take off my boots.”

“My companions won’t let me tread through the mud.”

“The question is, will you let them stop you when the time truly comes for you to cross the mud?”

Erin smiled. “That won’t stop them. My opinion doesn’t matter to them when they see me destroying myself.”

Azaela returned the smile, but hers was melancholic. “You have good friends.”

“They’re more than friends. They’re my family.”

“Still, it won’t be good for you to rely on them to stop you from treading through mud. They are only your option when you have lost all faith in yourself. The first step must be yours.”

Erin chuckled. “I appreciate your advice, but surely you didn’t accept my request just for this reason, did you?”

“We came to spar, did we not?”

“Spar with our blades and bodies, not words. We have done more with the latter than the former.”

“Then, let us waste no more time sparring with words but with our blades,” Azaela said and rushed at Erin.

Their spar resumed. Their blades clashed and grazed against the edges. Sparks flew with each exchange. They threw away all reserves and came at one another with all their might. Their swords were not the kind that was used for sparring. The edges of their blades were real and sharp. Yet, they fought without restraint to their skill.

Azaela favoured a duelist form. Her steps were firm, and her strikes were all precise and elegant. She stood her ground when she was on the defence. Her movements were minimal when she went on the offence. Her blade weaved around with a banner trailing behind a graceful dancer. Erin remained ever on guard, but Azaela’s blade was not easy to guard against.

Erin favoured a more motile form. Her steps were light. Her strikes were quick. She leapt and flipped around her opponent as she looked for a way to move past her opponent’s solid guard. She fought using whatever means she had. Even using the pommel and hilt of her sword. Her tails were no exception. They might be soft and malleable, but they could also cut like sharpened steel.

The two exchanged blow after blow. Each had their own strengths and weaknesses. Each was looking for a chance to end it all in one strike. They landed a few hits against each other, but none were defining or decisive. In the end, as the bell tolled from outside, their blades stopped. It was midday. It was time for lunch. There was no victor, but the two had smiles on their faces. They stowed away their weapons. Azaela tossed her sword back onto the rack while Erin wished her sword away.

“You fought well, Lady Erynthea,” said Azaela.

“I’m well aware of that,” Erin retorted with a grin.

“Oh? You have no intention of returning the courtesy?”

“Courtesy?” Erin scoffed. “I took it for the truth. The truth does not need to be returned in kind, no?”

Azaela. “Seems like your snark is not reserved only for your enemies.”

“I don’t discriminate.”

“I find it almost a shame that we are on the same side. It gives us less opportunity to have a go at each other.”

“We don’t need to be enemies to do this now, do we?”

Aera came in between them with towels in her hand. “Please, stop,” she said in her usual meek voice. “We still have things to… discuss.”

“We do?” Azaela asked.

Erin smiled wryly as she wiped her sweat off with the towel. “I confess, I have other motives for requesting an audience with you.”

“Oh? And what motives would that be?”

“...Are you aware of what a Zamride is?”

Azaela’s expression lost some of its warmth. “Anyone of my stature would surely know of Zamride, but do you?”

“I do, which is why I’m asking.”

“I doubt you truly do. If you truly know about Zamrides, then you should know that it is not something you want to ask about so… carelessly.”

“I am aware of that,” Erin said. “Which is why I’m asking you, Azaela.”

“What makes you think I won’t just have you arrested right here and now?”

“Because we are still talking. If you want to arrest me, you would have already done so. I need your help to obtain it. It is imperative that I have it as soon as possible.”

“Why is that?”

“Because the world will face a great calamity if I don’t.”