The Name of Names

~18: Rathen~

Vanya strode to the training field confidently, her sword strapped to her hilt, and saw the rest of the Riders sparring with each other. One of the Riders was waiting on the side, his sword in a resting position. Vanya noted that it was a Rider's blade, two-handed, and with a dark brown gem in the hilt. The blade seemed to hint the color as well, and Vanya glanced around for his dragon. He wasn't hard to find, as he was the same color as the rider's blade.

Vanya studied the dwarf Rider once more before she turned back. Eragon was striding towards her, his own blade in the sheath around his waist.

"Vanya, this is Rathen." Eragon gestured to the dwarf. Rathen nodded to Vanya, and Vanya inclined her head, waiting for further instructions from Eragon.

"You two will be sparring each other." Eragon explained, and Vanya remembered her unfortunate sparring companion at Elesmera. He had most likely reported to Eragon about her poor performance, she reflected. If so, he would be in for a surprise when she was better than that.

Vanya unsheathed her sword, holding it in a ready position. It occurred to her that the swords would be unevenly matched. Rathen's was a Dragon Rider's. While her own sword was still strong, the Riders' were made in a unique way to make them extraordinarily tough and resilient to blows.

Rathen raised his own, and Vanya was aware of Eragon stepping back a few paces to assess. She allowed a small smile to show as she began to edge to his left side. Rathen frowned, stepping to keep her in front of him.

Thinking to finish it quickly, Vanya lunged forward, sword ready. As it became apparent, Rathen had the same thought. He leaped forward as well, his blade gleaming.

The two met somewhere in the middle, their swords showering sparks, and Vanya grimaced as she felt the Rider's blade bite into her own. I'll have to fix that later. She pushed forward, and felt him start to get pushed back. The smile on Vanya's face grew wider. She yanked her blade out from Rathen's and struck the flat of it against his stomach.

Retracting her sword, she couldn't help but flourish it as her arm returned to her side. Her back was now to Eragon, but if it hadn't, she would have noticed his expression get tighter.

Rathen muttered a dwarvish curse under his breath, raising his blade up again.

"You might want to practice a bit more." Vanya commented, resting her sword tip down in the ground, and knowing she could get it back up fast enough.

Rathen's features darkened, and without warning he swung his sword in a horizontal arc at her. She blocked it in the nick of time, and in return jabbed at his exposed stomach. He ducked and rolled to the side, aiming a kick at her shins.

Seeing it just a second ahead of time, Vanya jumped, coming down just as Rathen got back up and swung his sword at her. Vanya could tell he was on balance, and was prepared for her to strike back and block it.

Instead of giving that to him, Vanya swayed back, avoiding the blade. While Rathen was slightly unsteady, moving as fast as a snake, Vanya brought her sword edge to his neck.

"Dead." She pronounced.

Rathen glared at her while Vanya removed the blade from his neck. Just as she started to do so, Rathen lifted his own blade, and chopped at her legs.

The blade almost made contact, but Vanya barely dropped her own sword to block his. Again, Vanya winced as his blade bit into her own, creating a large dent. She knew she would win each fight, but the damage on her sword would be unfortunate. Of course, she could fix it with magic, but it took time and energy.

Suddenly, as she thought about it, an idea occurred to her. Twisting the handle of her sword, Rathen's sword, which was stuck in it, came with it, flying out of his hand. Picking the dark purple sword up, Vanya immediately knew it wasn't her style at all, and stabbed it into the soft earth beside her.

Rathen's face was red with fury, and when he started to walk to retrieve the sword, Vanya pointed her sword at him again, not saying anything, but implying that he would be dead. Twice. 

With the back of his hand, which was protected by his armored gauntlet, he smacked the sword away from him.

Vanya allowed him to grab his sword, jerking it out of the ground and returning to his original position.

He was perseverant, Vanya acknowledged that, and raised her own sword, noting the unfortunate amount of jagged edges in it.

Vanya began the round by faking to his left, and then swinging it at his right. Rathen blocked her jab, and the fight continued in earnest. Rathen was bulkier, as a dwarf, but as an elf, Vanya had the advantage of lightness and strength.

At the end of the match, Rathen was again at the end of Vanya's blade. Again, they began a fight, and near the end of it, Rathen struck a rather furious blow at Vanya. Vanya lifted her sword easily to block it, but let out a cry as her sword snapped where Rathen had hit it with his Rider's Sword.

Without hesitation, Rathen struck again. Vanya saw it coming, dropped her sword and rolled to avoid the blow, bringing her leg up to kick Rathen in the chest.

He grunted, staggering back a bit, and Vanya pulled her fist back to aim a punch at him. Rathen was just recovering and getting his sword up.

Eragon spoke for the first time since they had begun, "Enough."

Rathen sheathed his sword, and Vanya could tell he was barely restraining himself from whacking her over the head. Although he probably couldn't reach it, Vanya thought, a smile twitching at the edges of her lips at his height.

"Rathen, you fought well, and may either retire for the day, or practice some magic." Eragon said as he picked up Vanya's broken sword.

"Thank you, Ebrithil." Rathen pressed a fist to his chest, sending a final glare at Vanya before he left.

Vanya extended a hand for her sword, and Eragon handed it over. "I believe you need a new sword."

"Perhaps." Vanya said, not wanting to give him any satisfaction.

"Of course, if you wish, you may continue to use that one once you repair it." Eragon watched her begin to mutter in the ancient language to repair the sword. Slowly, it was repaired, and Vanya felt the toll the energy loss took on her. She dipped into the energy stored in the gem, depleting it, and wishing she had stored more. She sheathed her sword, and unconsciously crossed her arms as she turned to Eragon. Her new Ebrithil would not be pleased, that much she was sure of.