Search for the Extinct [Last of Elves book 2]

Forty-Eight: Kuraĝon

Kuraĝon

In a mood for a fight, and knowing that he would be itching for the same, she searched the temple for her brother. Her sword was in her hand, thin and delicate, but strong. Made for her.

She found him outside, sparring lazily with a few temple warriors. She watched for a moment, seeing what they couldn't. Ailill was bored, not even trying as he defeated them again and again.

"Ali."

He looked up, his dark eyes taking in her attire, and her sword, and a grin flashed across his face. "Finally. Someone who's a challenge."

She laughed, barely noticing the warriors scrambling out for the way as she walked closer. Ailill stayed where he was, leaning on his sword, waiting for her.

"Bored, Ali?"

"Of course." His eyes flickered, and she turned her head to see Aura and the priestess coming out. Clearly, one of the warriors had told them that something was going to happen.

The movement was a mistake.

She barely managed to duck as his sword whistled towards her head, but he missed. Dancing backwards, she grinned at him, taunting him.

"Missed. Growing slow?"

He shrugged, stepping backwards so that they were too far apart for the swords to touch them. "Perhaps. Or maybe you're just out of practise. When was the last time you picked that up?"

She let a slight growl come out of her throat, and leapt forward. Her blow was parried, knocked away, but so was his. They were a match for each other, knowing each other's strengths and weaknesses as well as their own. It made for good fun.

They duelled until they were dripping with sweat, and began to make mistakes. Ailill was the first to draw blood, nicking her on her upper sword arm. She hissed at him, but he only grinned. Another few blows later, and she had gained another cut. Her wrist aching, feeling very out of practice, she lunged for him, only to find that he darted under her guard. Her sword was swept out of her grip with a strange twist of his wrist, and the tip of his blade flicked to her throat.

"Growing slow?" he asked cheekily, throwing her words back at her. She stared at him a moment, and then grinned at him.

"That's a new one."

He shrugged, stepping back to pick up her sword. "Not really. Learnt that one quite a few years ago."

She took it from him, and shoved him hard enough to make him stumble. "Arrogant," she muttered.

He grinned at her again, and she felt her temper grow again. With a muttered curse, she flew for him, only for his sword to block hers.

This time, it wasn't a search to disarm the opponent. This duel was one of skill and endurance, and more than once she saw the light in his eyes that only came when he was stretching his skills. She knew that he'd scoured the land in his travels, learning from both humans and the last few elfin sword-skilled that were left, making their skills his own, honing his technique.

She knew that he was considered the best in the land.

After all, he had defeated the priestess' captain not once, but three times. Even the humans would consider him worthy of the title, but he had always refused to take it.

With one last flourish, he disarmed her once again, her sword flying through the air to land in the soft dirt of a flowerbed, nearly skewering a couple of warriors who just managed to jump out of the way in time. They stared first at her sword, shaking in the ground, and then at them. Awe was clear in their eyes.

As she'd expected would happen eventually, his sword was at her throat, barely touching her skin. His dark eyes were alight with mischief, and then he sheathed the sword, bowing to her with an almost comical flourish.

"A fine duel, little sister."

His voice carried, and she heard slow clapping before it built. Stunned, she cast her gaze around the area, lifting her chin at the audience they'd acquired, and vanished inside. Her muscles were sore and aching, and she just wanted to be alone. Let her brother deal with the awestruck glances and disbelief.

She hated it.