| Subject: *Smiles* Alright. For you. Inside. |
Author:
Sekin Brightfall
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Date Posted: 06:19:31 10/25/03 Sat
In reply to:
Jade da begging
's message, "Pweeeeeeeeeeze!!!!!!" on 00:25:48 10/25/03 Sat
The shape was clearly that of a human, hooded and cloaked in a long black cape, but it soared towards him, skimming over the ground, riding the shadows cast by the houses or the bones. Skimming, with its arms spread out like the wings of some monstrous bird, it darted from shadow to shadow, shrinking or growing to fit the shadow it rode. Zip-zagging from one to the next, darting in a shape-changing flash of whipping black robes, it advanced on him with a terrible speed. It rode the shadows as it the still forms were blowing gusts of ravenous winds. Sometimes sinking gloved hands onto one, pulling itself onto it like a wolf onto the haunches of a fleeing deer; other times leaping cleanly from one shadow to the next, almost seeming to hang motionless in-between mounts.
Its speed was too fast for even Grisen’s eyes. All he could make out was a black blur, leaping and pouncing from one shadow to the next. Shrinking to fit the shadow of a child’s rib, growing to fill the shadow of a house as soon as it jumped. A Shadowrider. Grisen only had time to position his sword for a lunge before the figure leapt off the shadow of a nearby house, and sunk its hands into his own. Grisen felt a vicious stab of pain as if invisible needles had broken his flesh, before the form flowed off his shadow to land in a crouch on the solid ground. Rising slowly up to its full height, it stared down at Grisen, cape whispering softly in a breeze seeming only to affect it.
With another smooth movement, almost too quick for the eye, the person raised a hand and pulled back the hood of the cape. The face of a middle-aged woman stared back at him, her black shoulder length hair whispering in the unfelt wind. Her face looked ordinary, so ordinary she would have no trouble blending into a large crowd. A few wrinkles tugged at the corners of her sharp blue eyes and her mouth was twisted up in a small smile, almost as mocking as the laughs earlier. Sharp cheekbones gave her eyes a wary, tilted look and yet she appeared no different than any other ordinary woman Grisen had seen before. But she was. She was a Shadowrider.
When she spoke, her voice was rich with an undercurrent of terrible amusement. “You killed Darkborns.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. A dangerous statement so casually said. She hooded her eyes slightly, those keen blue eyes darting to his sword as if she was aware that his fingers had tightened convulsively on the hilt. “Dama’zark won’t like that…” This time, her voice had a lazy drawl to it, as if she neither cared what she said or who she said it to.
Grisen’s eyes narrowed and despite himself, he took a step back. She smiled and the breeze that rippled through her hair and cloak intensified, causing a slight roar of fabric as it billowed around her. A long sword appeared in her hand as if by magic. A blade that gleamed a dull yellow in the dark. Grisen tensed visibly, but managed not to take another back-wards step.
“A Radgem is one thing,” she brought the blade up to her eyes to study it.” But a Shadowrider is another!” Without the slightest pause, she lunged at him. Her speed turned her into a blur of black as she flowed towards him. The only thing Grisen could do was to bring his sword up half-heartedly to block her down-wards sweep. The two blades met with a resounding clash and Grisen braced against the strain his opponent’s lunge had given her.
Suddenly, her yellow blade was gone and he was bracing against thin air. With the tension so unexpectedly vanished, Grisen stumbled forwards, his mind a swamp of fear and confusion. She was gone. He managed to regain his footing and whirled around, seeking his hidden opponent.
The shadow of a child’s skull surged right up in front of his bewildered eyes. Up and up in the space of a breath to become the imposing black-cloaked woman, the smile broadening savagely on her face at his shocked surprise. Her sword swung at his stomach with a hiss of air, a whisper of danger. Once again, Grisen was all but helpless, caught off guard and immobilized by shock.
The air around the yellow blade seemed to boil and writhe like so many snakes, the hiss intensified, and Grisen didn’t even have time to parry the blow. He sidestepped as quickly as he could, feeling the deadly whir of the sickly weapon as it just barely missed him. The potent grace of the Falkhan returned as Grisen seized the opportunity when his opponent’s defenses were wide open, for a lunge of his own.
The clear steel blade glittered as Grisen swung it in a flashing arc at the Shadowrider’s head. The woman’s smile seemed to slip ever so slightly as she drew back from Grisen’s blade. Grisen carried on his lunge, a striking serpent unraveling its full length to sink its fangs into its target. And then the Shadowrider stepped into the shadow of a nearby house and was gone. Grisen brought his lunge to a halt, staring around him frantically, as he pivoted uncertainly in a small circle. As soon as she had stepped into that shadow, she had been swept away, as if the unmoving shadow was a raging river, its currents dragging her downstream. And now, she could be anywhere.
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