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“Yep! It’s been a trick for a trick all day, but
it’s the last trick that wins the game.”
Lion-O, Thundercats
Ledger held his shotgun along his
waist like a samurai warrior holding his katana at the ready. The barrel pointed away from Everett, the gun
waited, poised like a serpent. As the
two stood in the grassy field on the opposite side of the parking lot from Everett’s apartment,
the wind swept down amongst them, bringing the hot sunny air cresting along
the grass. The two black knights faced
one another, letting the breeze pass between them.
With a sudden motion, Ledger
brought his shotgun to bear against Everett,
aiming for his chest. In the same
instant, Everett
burst forward, his hand flying to his side where Sunstorm was ready. Ledger moved to pull the trigger, but
before he could, Everett
drew his katana out from the sheath, sliding the long handle that extended
past his hand against Ledge’s wrist, using it to push the gun
off-center. In the same motion, he
swung the sword in a wide arc, slicing within an inch of Ledger’s neck.
The dark-skinned knight collapsed
expertly onto the grass, dropping his shotgun. He touched his neck, making sure there was
no wound, and looked up at Everett,
astonished. “You have gotten faster,”
he marveled before accepting Everett’s
hand up.
Steel met steel as Roland and Everett clashed. The swords pressed diagonally against one
another, they faced off; the two knights intense glares inches from each
other as they fought against the other’s blade. Roland gained a leverage advantage and
shoved Everett
back. Rather than fall, Everett took the
opportunity to leap back, kicking at Roland’s side as he opened the
distance. Roland ignored the kick and
ran low, sweeping with his leg for Everett’s
knees before slashing for his stomach.
Again, their swords met head-on,
the high-pitched sound of epic steel ringing out filling the parking
lot. Roland swung for Everett’s legs, then reversed the slash to
attack at his side. Everett economically blocked both strikes
before slicing at Roland’s neck, again coming just a hair’s breadth from
cutting him.
Armand and his long brand moved as
if passing through congealed molasses.
He swung overhead at Everett,
but the senior knight stepped just out of the path of the sword and shoved
Armand’s shoulder, sending him teetering off balance. His katana still in his sheath, he waited
for Armand to recover.
Gathering his feet, he turned back and
hoisted Ulysses up into his stance, moving in a circle around Everett. At the center of the movement, Everett remained still,
his shoulders squared as he waited.
“He’s going to try and attack Ev’s blind spot,” Ledger wagered to
Edgar as they sat with Sydney and Roland on the edge of the parking lot.
“Well, yeah,” Roland said with a
grin. “The question is, how badly is
Ev going to embarrass him?”
Armand exploded at Everett, swinging his sword with the force
of a hurricane. Everett let the weapon near, then stepped
out of the way again, drawing Sunstorm in a flash and snapping Armand on the
back of the neck with the pommel.
“Badly,” Sydney grinned, trying to keep from
laughing.
Edgar’s rapier held the sun like a
waiter holding an over-full glass of cheap wine. With the blade extended horizontally
towards Everett,
the eldest night kept him at bay. With
his left arm running protectively over his chest, he circled around Everett cautiously.
“I’m getting bored!” Roland yelled
playfully, his white shirt stained with sweat and grass stains.
“Patience,” Edgar said
confidently, circling with Everett. “You have wait for the right opportunity to
attack. Patience is everything in
fighting.”
“True,” Everett concurred, his vision split behind
Sunstorm. “But there’s also something
to be said for taking the initiative.”
He stepped forward, clanging Edgar’s thick rapier blade away. Nimbly recoiling around, Edgar circled the
tip of the blade and lunged at Everett. He dodged to the side and looped his right
hand, free of his katana, around Edgar’s arm and spun inward, yanking Edgar off
his feet and throwing him to the ground.
“That,” Edgar announced loudly to
the group of laughing knights at the edge of the grass, holding up his hand
demonstratively, “that was NOT the right time for me to attack.”
Sydney’s
twin short swords worried Everett. Broad at the base, narrowing then widening
again, the willow leaf blades were as long as his forearms, the handles
designed for agile manipulation. Held
to either side of the dame, the swords were like the wings of a warrior
angel.
Everett changed his stance, lowering his
sword almost on-level with his knees. Sydney noted the change
and smiled. When she moved, it was as
if she surprised the wind. She swept
at Everett
with her right sword, forcing him to block the attack, opening him up for her
to stab at his chest with her left sword.
He ducked around it, keeping his blade against hers. He lifted the blade against her sword and
swept it free, hacking at Sydney’s
neck. She leapt back and spun against
him again, swinging her left sword with a backhand motion.
Everett
ducked under the swing and slashed at Sydney’s
side, slicing her white blouse just enough to reveal the soft skin
beneath. The two stood, facing each
other, smiling. “Oh my god,” Ledger
marveled from the side of the battlefield, the others just as astonished.
“He actually beat her,” Roland
agreed, amazed.
Everett
slid his sword into his sheath, Sydney
doing the same with her twin swords behind her back. He held his two fingers between his eyes,
getting the same gesture in return. “I
never thought I’d actually beat you,” he said.
“You still haven’t,” she pointed
out.
“Have you checked your shirt?” he
asked.
“Have you checked yours?” she
returned.
Everett looked down at his white
undershirt. He pulled it, revealing a
small slash over his heart. He looked
up, amazed. Sydney winked playfully at him and strolled
away.
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