Should We Meet Again

Chapter Two

The Du Couteau estate offered a wide variety of training rooms that tailored to every aspect of combat imaginable. Regardless of what skill you wanted to improve, or which situation you wanted to prepare for, if you could find the right room, you could train to your heart's desire. The largest of these rooms was its own building. It was intended for sparring, and was the most frequently used by the members of the Crimson Elite. It was also Talon's personal favorite. Over the years he spent with the Du Couteau family it was always in the sparring room that he would find the most improvement. Whether it was a not-so-friendly duel against Katarina or another failed attempt to defeat Marcus, Talon learned the most from actual combat. That is how it had always been for him. Sure, he would spend some of his spare time stabbing away at imaginary soldiers, but he had only gotten as far as he had through putting his life on the line and forcing his way to victory. Every guild ambassador that challenged him only reduced the chances that the next one would survive. However, none of those guild ambassadors wielded a wind-enchanted rune blade that was nearly as large as their own body. Granted, Riven was nearly a head and a half shorter than the assassin, but the blade was excessively large nonetheless.

Riven and Talon had sparred numerous times over the three days that had passed since they had returned. The assassin always emerged victorious, but only by a small and ever-receding margin. Riven's experience with large weapons was beginning to show, and she was also gradually adapting to the way Talon fought. By this third day, Talon was well aware that once she had reached her full potential, he would be thoroughly outclassed in a fair fight. However, that day had not yet arrived, and Talon concluded yet another bout with a blade to his partner's neck.

"Damn it all. I was certain I had you that time," Riven moaned as she lowered her weapon.

Talon followed suit and retreated to a corner of the room in which refreshments and a bench were waiting. "You nearly did," he said, taking a sip of water. "I think the only thing holding you back is your speed. If we can find a way to get you to move faster, you will likely obtain the upper hand."

Riven lugged her blade over to the refreshment corner and sat down. "Believe me, I'd love to, but this thing is so damn heavy. I'm nearly helpless against quicker opponents like you."

The assassin eyed the runes on Riven's sword as he racked his brain for a solution. Magic. Magic was the highest power in Valoran, and everyone knew it. If it could tear the world to pieces, then surely it could help his partner move a bit faster. "Do you mind if I have some time with it?" he asked, gesturing to her blade.

"Knock yourself out," Riven answered as she dumped a cup of cold water on her head. She was clearly not in the mood to continue fighting any time soon.

Talon picked up the massive weapon and walked to the center of the room. He mimicked the stance and grip he had seen Riven use, placing two hands on the hilt and lowering his stance considerably. The assassin swung the blade a few times, trying to get a feel for its weight and balance. He wasn't much of a swordsman himself, but General Du Couteau was insistent that he learn how to use every weapon he could to a moderate level of competency. Great swords and long swords were easily his least favorite, being far too slow and unforgiving in standard use. Every move had to be calculated and precise. He much preferred weapons of the smaller variety, as the speed they allowed their wielder gave him an almost feral sense of ecstasy when he got into a heated confrontation.

After continuing his swinging motions for a bit longer, he let the blade rest. His movements were even slower than Riven's, and he couldn't think of any conventional martial arts technique that would alleviate that. He ran his eyes up and down the rune-inscribed flat of the giant mass of metal. It was then that he had an idea. He had recently become aware that the enchantment on Riven's sword was far more powerful than he had initially thought. A sweeping arc of wind magic flying towards his head during an earlier sparring session had communicated that fact quite clearly. The assassin closed his eyes, and a few seconds of dedicated concentration later, Talon reached out with his senses, trying to tap into whatever magic lay dormant in the weapon. There had to be more it could do than just emit waves of magic, and he was determined to find out what.