Young Writers Society

Valon grimaced and thrust his sword deeper as his balance swept him off his feet. He extinguished his mana into the rapier. He twisted. His eyes widened.

And as the fire traveled down the blade, the sword shattered, sending the fire blast into the air, and Valon's face into the glass shards below. He struggled to his elbows, blinded, but fell immediately as a crack broke through his spine.

The cries of joy, shock and terror of the crowd drowned out the roar of the waterfall as Irskr's opponent's rapier shattered in a torrent of flame as the blast he had been planning shot into the sky, searing Irskr's beard and temporarily singed his eyes.

However, he did take notice of his opponent on the ground, and thrust his axe's hilt with all what strength he could muster, cracking his spine and sending him collapsing back.

"I... thank you... fire-wielder," Irskr gasped, lifting his axe for the final strike. "Even if I die today... you have aided in fulling my... Wish. To join... my wife."

With that, Irskr heaved his axe over his head, aiming the blow for the neck.

A metal gate was pulled up at the end of the arena, the metal clanging as it rose to the top of the large arching doorway. With nothing else providing theatrics, a soldier stepped in onto the bloodied sand, armored, with a sword at his side. The only thing he lacked was a helmet, and a smile. He silently drew his sword, looking to the other side of the arena for his competitor.

He gave a little waving motion of his hand, beckoning them to come.

As the man gestured for his opponent to emerge, the gates on the other side of the stadium rose to reveal a figure dressed in a ratty cloak. A pair of dark red eyes peered out from underneath her hood. With silent footsteps, she emerged onto the field.

Her gaze traveled from her competitor to the people packed to the brim in the stands. After determining that it was safe, she removed her hood to reveal the face of a demon. The cloak was thrown to the side, and her tail popped up out of her tunic.

She withdrew an unadorned sword from the old leather sheath at her side and held it out. If her opponent was going to use a sword, she would for the moment as well.

“Hello,” she said, deciding that introducing herself to the man was the polite thing to do. “I'm Magestorrow Rian.” She kept her sword ready, in preparation of the man possibly attacking her.

James looked his opponent up and down, sizing up the demon before him. She seemed more than a worthy opponent - one who, James was already unsure (in the corners of his mind) that he would be able to defeat. Yet he couldn't afford to doubt. In this fight to the death he would cast any doubts aside and focus on the present moment. So he mirrored the formalities with his own introduction, "I'm James." He said simply, looking at Magestorrow with a steady gaze of cool, emotionless eyes. "Let the games begin."

James gave a solemn nod of his head, and held out his sword and took a stance. He would not rush his opponent, he wanted to see what Magestorrow Rian had, and let his opponent make the first move.