Chapter Four
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1 – SaDiablo Hall, Drilling area
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Lucivar turned around, surprised to find that a certain spectacled girl was already up. She smiled at him, sitting down on the bench near the drilling area, apparently with the intent to watch him doing his drills by himself.
His mind trailed back to when his namesake had described how Damara had enough sense to carry a weapon with her when she wandered the forest she'd been in, looking like she knew how to use it – and he promptly decided to test if that theory was true.
He strode towards her, calling in an extra Eyrien stick. She looked surprised, as he handed it to her. "Let's see if you really can spar."
Her eyes widened and he knew she understood what he just said. But she pointed to her simply tied in a ponytail hair and her spectacles, as though in protest. Not one to be beaten, Lucivar expertly braided her hair with Craft and, placing her glasses on the bench, he waved a hand over her eyes, using Craft to restore her sight temporarily.
Damara gave out a sigh of defeat, and, whilst muttering something in her language that Lucivar was sure were curses concerning him; took off her gold necklace that had two pendants dangling on it – a golden, heart-shaped one with one letter in her language on it, and the other, a silver one with an amethyst shaped into a tear – for extra measure and rolled up her sleeves. And wasn't it just convenient that she decided not to wear a skirt today?
Lucivar watched as she slipped into a stance, one he'd never seen before, which was rather well-posed. Her eyes, more pronounced with her spectacles off; stayed on his golden ones unflinchingly, waiting for him to make his move.
He resisted a smirk. His fighting instinct told him it was going to be an interesting fight.
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2 – SaDiablo Hall
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Yaslana considered blasting the bedroom door that was being banged on by his oh-so irritating older, winged cousin. It was practically dawn, dammit.
Then Daemonar's next words made him almost fall out of his bed. "You have to see this! My father's sparring with your waif!"
He was still tying his robe together when he practically stormed out of his room. "What!"
Daemonar hurried on. "They've been at if for Mother Night knows how long. But Dad was sweating, so it must've been quite a bit."
Yaslana snarled, quickening his pace. "If this another one of your pranks-"
Daemonar cut him off. "Even I'm not suicidal enough to do that. You take after Aunt J in the early morning department, remember?"
Ignoring that comment, Yaslana walked as fast as he could to the drilling area, in time to see 'his' petite waif blocking his Uncle Lucivar's attack, managing to even push him back.
Everyone was there, including the servants. Yaslana was sure that it was the first time he'd seen everyone assembled together so early in the morn.
Lucivar attempted to hit her on the head, but she blocked that too. But then, suddenly, she was falling, as Lucivar had swiped her feet from under her.
But she managed to place a hand on the ground before her whole body could completely fall, and with her other hand that held her stick, swiped Lucivar off his feet.
Before Lucivar could recover, she did, and flung his stick away before placing the end of her stick at his throat. He was completely under her mercy.
Lucivar couldn't help it. He laughed and let himself up with the help of her stick. "Well," he began, patting her on the head approvingly. "Once you're not reluctant to fight, you sure are a force to be reckoned with." He smiled. "Waif."
Meanwhile, the others were in shock.
"She put Lucivar in the dirt," Daemon muttered, bewildered. He turned to his wife, "Right?"
Jaenelle, amused, leaned against him reassuringly. "Yes. She put him in the dirt," she confirmed, as though she was speaking to a child.
"She won." That was Saetan. Almost comically identical in action to his namesake, he turned to someone for confirmation, that someone being Tersa. "She did, didn't she?"
Tersa patted his cheek. "Yes. The girl won."
"She kicked his ass," Surreal said disbelievingly. "On her first try."
Rainier placed an arm around his assassin of a wife. "Yes. She did."
"Lucivar lost," Wilhelmina said. She made it sound more like a question than a statement.
Her husband, Sinclair; wrapped an arm around her waist. "Yes. He did."
"She took down Lucivar," Chaosti mumbled. "Lucivar."
"Yes." Gabrielle linked an arm around her usually always composed husband's arm in amusement. "Lucivar."
"Lucivar got himself whooped," Khary said dazedly. "By a girl."
"Yes," Morghann agreed readily, though in other circumstances, she would've been offended by such a sexist remark. "By a girl."
"Lucivar was beaten?" Aaron said. "In a drill?"
"Yes." Kalush said gently, taking her husband's hands in hers and squeezing them soothingly. "He was."
Morton directed an odd look to Yaslana. "Should I wish you luck?" he said in a strange tone, Jade on his arm, looking dazed.
"She's good," was all Titian could manage. Thierry could only nod in agreement.
"You'll have to be on your guard with that one," Daemonar commented, Arianna beside him. "She's feistier than my mother."
"I heard that," said mother said, watching as her husband and Damara headed towards them.
Yaslana went towards the dark haired girl as soon as he could gather his wits. She looked unharmed though, just tired and rather sweaty. Then again, this was his Uncle Lucivar who'd been her opponent, who many said was the best at drilling and all his life, Yaslana had never seen the Eyrien inflict an injury on any female that was more than a light bruise, so it wasn't surprising.
"You were right," Lucivar said, watching Damara putting her glasses back on as the coven crowded her excitedly. "She does know how to use a stick." He smirked a little, "More so, a broken tree branch."
And Yaslana was glad that she didn't use that skill of hers on him when they first met.
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To be continued
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And that's Chapter 4, everyone. Again, I hope's it's alright. Thank you for taking your time to read 'Delivering Miracles', and I hope you'll continue doing so. See you all in Chapter 5, I hope ;p