Pentad of Un

Chapter 7 - Shayrow

     Shayrow had been right—the two months before the choosing of groups went by in a flash.

     The last thing the swordbearer class did before the choosing of groups was hold a tournament of sorts, just to prove who belonged in the top position.

     Shayrow had nearly forgotten about it. He wasn't too concerned with how the tournament would play out. His position as top in his class was far from secure, but he intended to fight with all he had to maintain the title.

     The beginning battles felt like mere warm-up sessions. Some of the students put down their sword before the duel even began, having predicted a loss and not wanting to prove themselves right.

     Adif had come to watch the fighting, and she enthusiastically cheered for Shayrow from the sidelines.

     "You look distracted, Shay," his next opponent remarked, flashing a dimpled grin. He was a goblin and a good friend of Shayrow's, named Ezfix.

     Being the son of a member of the royal guard meant that Ezfix didn't see his father all too frequently. The royal guard was stationed in the Yaruid Kingdom's castle, which was in a county to the west of Woei—called Hasdak.

     "Don't worry—I'll give you a second to collect your thoughts," Ezfix teased.

     "Thank you, Ez, but that won't be necessary." Shayrow returned the grin and stood at the ready.

     Ezfix put up a decent fight, but he was no match for Shayrow. The goblin congratulated the dhampyr and wished him luck.

     Before long, Shayrow found himself up against one last student—a sprite named Piklof.

     Shayrow respected Piklof's skill, as it was in league with his own for sure. He'd had some close fights with him before, and he knew that the sprite was no pushover. Piklof was opportunistic and a bit egotistical, which meant that fights with him weren't over until he said they were over.

     "That top position is mine," he declared as he held his blunted blade at the ready.

     "Then come and get it," Shayrow responded, taking on a fighting stance.

     The signal was given, and Piklof wasted no time making the first move. He came low, which wasn't hard to do with someone as tall as Shayrow.

     Shayrow had seen that coming and easily countered, moving as quickly as possible to make it difficult for Piklof to read his movements.

     Because of the wide variety of species in each class, students were always advised to play to their strengths. Shayrow knew his advantages—that he was quick, flexible, and his lack of shadow tended to be disconcerting for his foes.

     He knew Piklof's strengths, too. The sprite had the advantage of wings, and his movements were always done gracefully and without faltering.

     In a real fight, his wings would be a weakness, since injuries dealt to sprite wings were the one thing they couldn't heal. Sprites unconsciously healed almost all injuries with their magic, except their wings.

     But in a fight with blunted blades that wasn't a matter of life or death, Piklof didn't have to worry about his wings.

     He started toying with Shayrow, darting out of his reach by flying above his kinesphere. Shayrow impatiently regripped his sword every time Piklof left his range, being forced to wait for the sprite to get closer.

     Finally Shayrow had had enough. He caught Piklof over the shoulder with his blunted blade, acting as though he were slicing clean through the invisible wing.