Sand and Blood

Disclaimer: Don't own it, no matter how much I want it.:(

"Don't do it farmboy. We agreed. Just walk away."

Sabre stood over Whisper, the master longsword slick with the blood of dozens of foes clutched in his gloved fist. His leather armor contoured to his lithe frame, accentuating the tone of his muscles. His long, jet black hair blew in the dry wind, having been cut loose in battle. As Whisper kneeled in front of him, he reflected over the moments leading up to this.

The only spell he had bothered to learn, lightning, had served him well against the wasps, tearing through them with ease. He hadn't even bothered to pull his sword.

The hobbes had fared no better. Lightning had flashed from his fingers and put an end to them almost as swiftly as they had come.

The balverines had challenged him, or rather, he had challenged himself. Eschewing his magic, he took to them with only his blade, Scything through them like a bladed wind. No matter how they howled, he was untouchable. He had barely even registered Whisper's arrival.

Undead were new to him, but they died as easily as anything else. They were so slow he had even had time to pay attention to Whisper's form. She had improved immeasurably since their last encounter in Orchard Farm. She was faster, for one thing. She had ceased all of the unnecessary jumping about, left herself open less, and pressed the attack when she had the opportunity.

One of the bandits almost scored a hit on him with a crossbow in the next round. It was a near thing that he didn't get a crossbow bolt through his head. Bending his neck almost a heartbeat too late, the bolt sliced neatly through the black silk ribbon he used to tie up his ponytail.

The nuisance was quickly dealt with.

The next two rounds of trolls were an exercise in quick, reflexive dodging. Each of the four trolls seemed determined to crush him beneath a boulder or mound of dirt. Whisper's eyes met his once during the second round of troll bashing, and he liked what he saw: passion. Her eyes were alight with the glorious joy of battle, even as his were.

The final round proved a test for both of them. The giant scorpion and its children tested them both. Avoiding it poisonous stinger earned him a slash across the chest from a claw, the only blow landed on him yet. With a curse, he had wedged the colossal crearure's eye open with a rock and poured lightning from both his hands into its eye. He continued long after the eye had melted, slagging the poor creature's brain. It's death throes had thrown him clear, and he had barely retrieved his sword when he realized the crowd was screaming their names. Shouts of "Sabre! Whisper!" filled the arena. They stood back to back, basking in the praise of the crowd. Whisper, body pressed against his, was laughing. The sound warmed him, overshadowing the thrill from the crowd greatly.

Then Jack of Blades stepped forward. For an instant the crowd silenced, then began going wild. Sabre listened while he proposed one final round and Whisper's astonishment.

"Let's give them a good show; but I won't kill you, I can't kill you."

And so it began. Sabre and Whisper's weapons met in a clash of steel and sparks. His off hand wore a plate gauntlet, allowing for ingenious moves, such as grabbing the head of her spear and driving it into the ground. Effortlessly she flipped over his head, b ringing an elbow down to crack his skull. Twisting to the side, her swing went wide and she landed facing him. Releasing the spear, she drove a fist into his gut, to be met with a likewise response. The air left their lungs together, and they stepped back to regain it.

They stood an arm's length away from each other, daring each other to flinch. Whisper moved first.

The spear tip drove forward, caught in Sabre's mailed fist. His longsword crashed downward, to be deflected by her spear. His forehead met her face, rocking it back. The flat of his sword caught the shaft of her spear, flinging it away before his armored fist caught her in the chest, flinging her to the ground. As she fell she flung a bottle at Sabre. The spun glass shattered on impact with his sword, blasting him away and sending him to the ground.

He was on his feet in an instant, sword forgotten, meeting her punches and kicks with his own. Round and round the arena they fought, two Heros afire with the thrill of battle. A foot to his hip sent him spinning to the ground, within an easy reach of his sword.

Snatching it up, he redirected the spearhead aimed at his neck into the ground. So much for a good show.

He came up swinging.

Whisper parried and blocked furiously, but couldn't find an opportunity to attack through his renewed assault. As fast as a thought, he brought his sword down in an overhead chop which Whisper blocked, then flourished his blade left to right horizontally. The sudden change of direction caught her by surprise, and his weapon crashed into her hard enough to lift her off of her feet. She landed violently, dazed from the force of the blow.

Whisper managed to climb to her knees, leaning heavily on her spear, when the point of Sabre's blade rested against her throat.

"Just walk away" she said. And concede her the victory? He hadn't come this far to quit at the end. Twinblade, dead by his hand. What was another Hero?

He raised his arm for the killing strike... and felt the eyes of Jack of Blades on him, appraising. He checked himself. How could he kill Whisper? How could he even think about it?

Whisper, his only friend?

Whisper, who had hunted beetles with him in the woods?

Whisper,who had pushed him to be even better?

Whisper, who had held him that first night when he had cried for his family?

The tip of the longsword slid into the dirt beside her head. "Hold onto that for me. I'll want it back later." Whispersighed and bowed her head. "Thank you Farmbo- Thank you Jak. I'll see you."

He waved as he left the Arena. "See you around."

Meant to be a oneshot, if you like it and want more review me and say so.