| Subject: Next part's INSIDE |
Author:
Sekin Brightfall
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Date Posted: 20:12:06 12/23/03 Tue
In reply to:
Sekin
's message, "I'll try to write more later but I'm soooo busy with X-mas shopping!" on 00:18:49 12/22/03 Mon
Sarvin grinned even more, her white teeth flashing. "Are you Hunting me Demarkon?" There was a mocking ring of injured innocence to her a voice, but also a powerful undercurrent of danger, hinting a storm about to break at his answer.
The figure, Demarkon, she had called him, seemed to feel the tension as well. He hesitated before answering. His voice was whisperingly dry, like the crackling leaves under Grisen's boots as he shifted, ready to lunge. "I Hunt those that disobey, no one else."
Sarvin laughed dryly, without any trace of humor or amusement. "Against Fyrth you had a chance by yourself Demarkon, but against me you have none. Not without him to back you up. But he's not here is he? He's chasing after the Serpent again."
Demarkon shifted uncomfortably, flexing powerful shoulders, but his voice was as controlled as ever. "The Serpent won't get away this time. And as for you...My job is only to delay you until Al'sheen'al'Tamorac comes and breaks you."
Sarvin's eyes were green fire. Grisen gripped the hilt of his sword tighter and stood by her side, ready to fight, but she didn't even glance at him. "Break me?" Her voice was no longer so pleasant. The words were forced from in-between clenched teeth and she quivered with rage. "Break me? I never liked you Demarkon! Never! You presume too much! Weave? You can barely spin!" She barked a laugh, but it was too maniacal to be considered amused. Demarkon lifted his broadsword up in front of him as Sarvin took a step forwards. Rage filled her face, shone in her eyes, and shook through her body. "We'll see who breaks who Demarkon! We'll see!"
She lunged. And Grisen sprang with her. With eye-blurring speed, Sarvin lashed out with her sword. With a vicious clash, the broadsword was raised to deflect it and the two weapons smashed against each other. No sooner then when their blades touched, Sarvin whirled in a full circle, breaking her sword away from his. She came to face him again and slashed downwards, breaking through his defenses.
Demarkon's cape whisked angrily as he rolled out from under Sarvin's sword the second before it plunged down where his foot had been a second before. Before he could get to his feet, Grisen charged in, slashing down in a roar of air. Demarkon rolled to one side, barely avoiding the blade and with a surge of black, he rose to his feet.
Sarvin rushed him again, but down her blade ran rivulets of red, from point to hilt, coursing down the length of the steel. Grisen stopped, staring. They were not the dull scarlet of blood, but the firey tones of flaming orange, like glowing coals tinged at the edge with burning red. Tiny rivers of coursing liquid fire, blossoming down from the top of the sword to spill down it.
Sarvin's glowing, hissing blade smashed into Demarkon's with a hideous gnashing, grinding like the teeth of some giant, crashing together. Immediately, the flows of fire spilled off Sarvin's weapon and onto Demarkon's as if drawn to it by a magnet. They ran together, coating the entire broadsword in a mass of moving flame and it glowed pure, vibrant, savage red before it shattered into a hailstorm of scarlet pieces.
Demarkon dropped the useless hilt and backed up from the horribly grinning Sarvin. With one last surge of speed, Sarvin burried her blade into the chest of her opponent. Still grinning, she thrust her face up to the shadow of the hood's cloak. Demarkon's hands were feebly trying to pull the sword from him, but Sarvin wrenched it viciously in even more, her voice a whisper, horrible to hear. "Who broke who Demarkon?"
Placing a foot on the stomach of the dying man, she used it as leverage to tug her weapon free. Demarkon staggered backwards and then fell in a lifeless pile on the bloodied ground, only a faint breeze stirring his black cloak.
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