Author's Note:
Happy New Years everyone. Well, I hope it has been a happy new year so far.
I have not got much else to say here, so I will leave this Author's Note here. Enjoy.
Elven Blade and Dracon Wings
Ten seconds to go.
Faen and his opponent were to wait ten seconds before they were permitted to make a move against the other, as dictated by the Elven codes of duelling. It was time meant for the duellists to formulate a strategy for their duel and to give the gods time to watch the coming clash between warriors. For among Elves, duels were as much religious rituals, as they were matters of honour among mortals.
The ten seconds were also meant as a way to allow any who were having second thoughts about the duel to back out, but to do so would invite immense dishonour and shame on both themselves and their family. The aforementioned notion of the gods looking on the participants proved a serious incentive to not back out in these most crucial of seconds.
In all of recorded Elven history, there had only been six elves that had made the bold, and on four occasions deadly, decision to back down from a duel. That fact probably said something about his people, though he did not care enough to think on it.
Nine seconds to go.
Other observations of the codes they followed were presenting all of their weapons to each other.
He had already shown off Gwaedh, so Faen went on to show off his wrist-bow and Aglar in both its sword and spear mode. The stranger complied with the codes as well, and, along with her carbine-axe, revealed a backup knife and a collapsible three-bladed throwing weapon. Never before had he seen something alike to the throwing weapon she had.
This duel might just prove even more interesting judging by the stranger's weapons alone.
Eight seconds to go.
Right now, Faen and the masked intruder were stood opposite each other, sizing up their opponent, and trying to penetrate the others thoughts. In a way, they were already duelling with one another, just not in a physical sense.
Seven seconds to go.
His opponent, this mysterious elf-eared and dracon-horned intruder whose eyes were filled with burning anticipation, was constantly changing the way they held onto their axes haft. Making Faen constantly guess how she would hold it, and how she would attack him with the weapon. She might not even plan to use her weapon as an axe, but switch it into its carbine-form and take several shots at him
Six seconds to go.
Faen, on the other hand, simply stood there as still as stone. The only movements the elf was making were his rising and falling chest, and his eyes which closely tracked the movements of the foe before him. From the way her hands shifted her weapon around to the slightest twitch of her foot.
His tactic gave his opponent no prior indication as to just what he would do once the ten seconds ended. Leaving his opponent guessing on whether he would act defensively or offensively. The intruder appeared to see what he was doing if the way their eyes narrowed was anything to go by. Yet, they continued with what they were doing, and with even greater vigour and speed in fact.
Five seconds left
Mind games such as these had ended duels before they officially began. Especially among those without their Aura unlocked, as plays such as these caused duellists to leave themselves open to an attack that ended duels seconds after they began.
However, Faen and his foe did have their Auras unlocked. So all there was no way their duel would end mere seconds after it started. Unless...
Four seconds left.
His Semblance. Was using it right off the bat a viable method to begin and end this duel?
Three seconds left.
He would need to be precise, swift, and most important of all, mindful of how he utilised it. If he planned to utilise it that is. Her intentions for him were still not yet clear as of yet, and he would very much like to have some Aura left in the event of another fight after this one.
Not long after, the doubts and fears of the risks involved in its usage infected his mind once again. The thought of the weakened state it would leave him in almost
Two seconds left.
He had only a second left. Faen needed to make a decision now.
One last second left.
Zero.
Faster than the eye could blink, the two rushed at each other, the two meeting at the centre of the sparring room. As soon as he was close enough, Faen swung his sabre at his opponent, but she proved swift enough to stop his blade from meeting her shoulder by blocking it with her axe's long haft.
Undeterred, Faen turned Gwaedh and slid the blade along the axe's haft in attempt to catch his opponent's fingers. He failed though, as she was able to push him back before Gwaedh's steel could connect. The action almost unbalanced him even. Having pushed him back to a distance where she could strike, the intruder attempted to hit him in the face with the butt of her axe.
Acting swiftly, Faen's free hand shot up and grabbed hold of the axe's haft above the butt. Taking advantage of the situation Faen attempted to attack the intruder, this time trying the stab his opponent's stomach. As with his previous attack, however, the intruder was able to prevent his attack from landing by kicking the sword's blade away from its target. Even as she did this, the intruder hit a button on the axe's haft which folded the weapon back into its carbine form, forcing Faen to let go of them weapon, and aimed the barrel right at him.
Seeing what the intruder planned, Faen leapt backwards a few metres and sliced apart each bullet that was shot at him. In return, Faen fired his wrist-bow at the intruder, but she had been able to snatch it out of the air with one of her hands.
'She is good,' Faen ruminated as he watched her casually toss his bolt aside. No one had done such a thing with his bolts before, and it piqued his interest in this stranger further because of that.
After throwing the bolt away, the intruder took out her throwing weapon and unfolded its three blades. Throwing it at him with one hand, the intruder then fired a burst with her carbine immediately afterwards. That was not all, though, as the intruder started to sprint towards him.
The white-haired elf could see what she was doing. He would need to either dodge or deflect the throwing weapon and bullets, but doing so would provide the intruder an opportune window to attack him personally. An admirable plan as far as Faen would admit. However, Faen was sure he could outwit and outfight the intruder.
Rolling to his left, Faen was able to get away from the bullets and throwing weapon, though, the intruder came charging at him like a bullet train just as he expected her to. She did not just settle with simply running at him, though, as she leapt high into the air and prepared to bring her unfolded axe down on him with an overhead swing. Choosing to cross weapons with his opponent, Faen stood his ground and swung Gwaedh upwards with a two-handed grip on the sabre's handle.
He intended to strike the intruder with his sabre as she descended back to the ground and before they had a chance to perform their own attack. Unfortunately, as if fate itself had chosen to interfere, the intruder swung earlier and faster than he expected. Causing a resounding metallic ring to echo across the entire sparring room as both sabre blade and axehead connected. Hells, sparks even flew as the steel of their weapons struck one another.
Behind him, Faen heard several metallic objects strike the wall behind him, one harder than the others. The bullets and throwing weapon must have hit the wall then.
Having the weightier weapon and striking with greater force, the intruder was able to push Faen back. Though, he was able to keep his balance and would be able to recover quickly from this.
As he was about to charge forward, the sound of something flying through the air right behind him, and, making a split second decision, ducked low for a brief instant. A good thing to, for the intruder's throwing weapon flew right through where his head had been a second ago. With the ease that could only come with a great deal of experience, the intruder caught the throwing weapon with their hand by its central segment without any sign of fear towards the weapon's three blades.
'Great. Just fricking great. Another throwable weapon that can rebound off surfaces,' Faen grumbled to himself within his own head. Pyrrha's shield, Akoúo, could also be used in the same manner and its usage had been crucial in beating him in a couple of their spars. The intruder folded her throwing weapon and returned it to her belt.
They remained facing each other for a couple seconds, and then rushed forward with weapons raised. Faen and his opponent swung their weapons at the same time, and engaged in a blade lock. Or a blade-haft lock as Faen guessed it should be called, as Gwaedh's blade struggled against the long haft of the intruder's axe. Seeing an optimal chance to land a strike on the intruder, Faen stepped over to the right, sliding Gwaedh out of the blade lock, and used this opportunity to stab at his opponent's neck.
Unfortunately, the intruder reacted swiftly and darted forward, eluding Faen's attack in time. Sensing a chance of her own, she attempted to to attack his legs with a wide sweep of her axe. He saw this and quickly jumped over the axe and tried to bring Gwaedh down on her head with a downward swing of the sabre. Frustratingly, the intruder immediately leapt backwards, the sabre's edge biting the floor instead, and aimed her axe his neck. Faen back away in time, the axehead's blade cutting nothing but air, and took up a defensive stance against his opponent.
They paused their duel for a moment, the both of them remaining where they stood and staring into the other's eyes. His opponent was deriving much enjoyment from all this, that he could sense in the mysterious opponent facing him. And quite honestly, Faen could say the same about himself. A few moments later, the two resumed their duel.
Moving even faster and fiercer than they had done before, each attempted to land that ever elusive first strike on their opponent. Yet, they found their efforts continuously failing as the other would parry, block, evade, or perform some other stunt to prevent the other's attacks from landing. Not even the cleverest feint performed by either of the two was able to penetrate the other's defences. The two even got into three intense blade locks, yet, even here the two failed to land a hit as they were both able to deny whatever attack was attempted against them.
It went on like this for several minutes. How long exactly, Faen did not know, and though he was enjoying their duel, a budding wish to see it end began to take root inside of him. Hunger from hours without sufficient food, and tiredness from his previous exercises, were beginning to wear away at him.
Just how long he could keep this up, the elf had no idea, but he would be damned if such things forced him to lose to this mysterious stranger.
Clashing with each other once again, Faen made an attempt to catch the intruder off-guard with a risky feint. Charging forward then leaping into the air, he rose Gwaedh over his head in a two-handed grip to make it seem he was aiming for a downward slash. In response, the intruder raised her axe up and held it horizontally, so to block his perceived attack. A reaction performed by several polearm-wielding foes Faen had battled, and one he had worked around.
Confident that his opponent had fallen for his ploy, the elf brought the weapon down towards the intruder. As he did with those other foes of his, the downward swing curved so Gwaedh's blade would sweep right above the intruder's guard. The plan being that it would slash horizontally across the intruder's face.
The timing had to be perfect, or else his trick would end catastrophically for him.
Much to Faen's relief and satisfaction, his feint worked, and, though the intruder attempted to stop him, Gwaedh's steel edge found its mark. The keen metal cut across the intruder's face, her Aura protecting her of course, and hastily recoiled from him. The first strike of this duel was his!
As much as he would like to, Faen refused to waste even a second to revel in his accomplishment. Instead, once his feet were back on the floor, he took several steps back and prepared for the intruder's inevitable counterattack. Against his expectations, however, the anticipated counterattack did not come. The intruder was not even facing him right now.
To Faen's surprise, she had turned away from him so that the left side of her body was facing towards him. Heck, the intruder also had her left hand over her face. Particularly over where Gwaedh's blade had cut across.
Without a doubt, this was surely a trap. It was so obviously a trap, that Faen it marginally insulting.
The intruder's Aura had protected her, and though there would be some pain, the elf did not believe he had inflicted enough to cause the intruder to react in this manner. Furthermore, the way she was hiding her face made it even more obvious that this was an act to bait him into attacking. For though the intruder was hiding her face with her hand, she would still be able to hear him coming, and attack him as soon as he came near.
Yet, despite how he was well aware of the trap, it was too irresistible to Faen. Like the last donut in a box, the intruder was just there, enticing the white-haired elf to come take advantage of her exposed situation before it was too late.
Before he knew it, his body was moving and had raised Gwaedh in preparation of a slash meant for her neck. He may have taken the intruder's bait, but Faen believed he could act swiftly enough to counter whatever she was planning.
The sabre's blade came down towards her neck and was mere centimetres away from connecting with it, when, rather unexpectedly, the intruder's hand shot up and caught the blade. Cursing himself, Faen raised his left arm and tried to fire his wrist-bow right at the intruder's face. He did not get the chance, however, as his opponent swung their axe with their other hand and struck Faen right in the gut with its bladed hook.
Pain exploded where the axe's bladed hook hit him, and as Faen tried to pull away from the intruder, Gwaedh was torn from his grasp.
'Fuck!' Faen swore in his head as he took a couple steps backwards, his left hand over where the intruder had been able to score her first hit. Like an idiot he had fallen for the trick, overconfidence getting the better of him where he should have been cautious. Well, lesson learned.
He would not make the same mistake again.
Emboldened by how easily Faen had fallen for her trap, the intruder advanced towards him. Casting Gwaedh to the floor behind her as she drew close. Then, holding her axe's haft with two hands, she swung the weapon in an overhead arc. Seeing the stranger's axe falling swiftly down towards his head, Faen's hand flew to Aglar's grip and pulled it out from its sheathe. No sooner had he done so, the edge of the axehead was but a centimetre away from impacting against his helm, but Faen proved swift enough that he blocked the blade with Aglar.
The elf let out a grunt as he tried to push the intruder back, however, he immediately received a sudden head butt from the intruder for his troubles. Reeling from the head butt, Faen nearly stumbled as he backed away from the intruder, who was preparing to strike him with a low, diagonal swing of her axe.
Before she could go ahead with such an attack, the elf pulled on the switch below Aglar's guard, transforming the weapon into its spear-form right when she got in range of the weapon. The tip of Aglar's blade successfully striking the intruder in the chest as the sword's handle extended and shot the blade forward.
Recoiling from his attack, it was the intruder's turn once again to retreat a couple steps. Now armed with Aglar, Faen was able to match the stranger's advantage of reach with his weapon's spear-form.
Immediately the pair started to go back and forth, the both of them having the upper hand for a moment or two before the tables turned once again. After those initial hits, the pair was able to score a few more as they became more aware of the other's skill in combat. Even with their growing ability to guess what their opponent was about to do, they still found ways to surprise each other.
Faen tried to thrust Aglar at the intruder, but she was able to sidestep his attack and grabbed hold of the spear's shaft. He had seen this coming, as well as the attack that would come not a moment afterwards.
Raising his left hand, Faen caught the intruder's axe just as she attempted to hit his face with its axehead. The two began to struggle with each other, with Faen trying to pry Aglar free while attempting to keep hold of the stranger's axe, and vice versa. After trying for a few seconds, the intruder decided to just kick him square in the chest, sending him backwards three metres or so.
The elf's grip on Aglar failed as he was sent back, the intruder pulling it from his hand in the process. Scrambling to get back onto his feet, Faen's eyes shot wide open when he saw the stranger raise Aglar and throw the spear at him like a javelin.
Acting quickly, Faen turned his body and reached his hand to where he estimated Aglar would fly. Faen's timing was perfect and guess correct, as his sword-spear shot past his right shoulder and he snatched it out of the air with his left hand. Not bad if he had to say so himself.
The intruder's eyes flashed with surprise and admiration at his feat, right before it re-intensified with the will to fight him with all she had.
With Aglar back in his hands, Faen shot a bolt at her, which she was able to dodge by leaping above it. Making use of this opportunity before him, the elf charged forward and thrust his spear at the intruder while they were still in mid-air. As his thrust was about to land, two great wings that glowed green suddenly manifested on her back, and with a single flap she evaded Aglar's tip.
So, this was her Semblance. The manifestation of wings made from her Aura. Dracon wings if his eyesight was not starting to fail him.
Stunned as he was by this revelation, Faen went back into the offensive and tried to strike the stranger while she was in the air. Frustratingly, though, she used those wings of hers to ascend higher into the air, going beyond his and Aglar's reach. While she flew into the air, the stranger folded her axe into its carbine form and set her sights on him.
Rethinking his approach, Faen ran in an effort to evade the stranger's bullets. The rattle of gunfire filled the air, and bullets started to rain down on him, quite a few actually hitting or grazing him. If that was not enough, the intruder went so far as to hurl that three-bladed throwing weapon at him when she needed to reload, giving little space to catch a reprieve. In response, Faen fired bolts from his wrist-bow and tried to think of a plan to knock the intruder back down to the ground.
Preoccupied by the bullets being shot at him, while simultaneously running from them, firing his wrist-bow at the intruder, and thinking up a plan, Faen failed to notice the bench in his way. By the time he did, it was too late, and, much to his embarrassment, the elf tripped and fell to the ground as his shin struck the wooden piece of furniture.
It was as he shot back to his feet, taking a few bullets as he did, that Faen was able to come up with a plan.
Firing the last bolt in his wrist-bow's current magazine, which the intruder evaded with insulting ease, Fane put that plan into action. It was risky, even so, it was the only one he could think of right now.
From the ground Faen could see the intruder flash him a taunting look from her elevated position in the air after having successfully, and gracefully, avoided the last of his bolts. That look immediately evaporated when he grabbed hold of the bench that tripped him over, the same one he spoke with Ruby on in fact, and threw it at the intruder with only one hand. He was only able to pull off the feat by enhancing his arm's strength through drawing on his Aura to augment the limb, allowing the elf to send the wooden bench speeding like an arrow shot from a bow.
The intruder thought fast and swung her carbine at the oncoming bench. The axehead 'bayonet' of the weapon chopped the bench into two halves with a single swing of the gun. Just as he had planned. For, not a moment after he threw the bench, Faen leapt into the air with an Aura empowered jump so he was right behind the bench after having flung it.
As the two halves of the bench and its many splinters fell away, he passed through them all and had almost reached the stranger, Aglar ready in its sword-form.
Seeing his swift approach, the intruder attempted to shoot him. To his satisfaction, nothing happened when she pressed on the carbine's trigger, the elf having timed his attack to coincide with when the intruder used up all her bullets. Figuring this out, the intruder attempted to back away from him, and tried to hit Faen across the face with the stock of her carbine before he could try to swing or stab Aglar at him. Such was not his plan, however, as he had a different, albeit more dangerous idea in mind.
Before the carbine stock was about to hit him, Faen hit the switch under Aglar's guard, transforming the weapon into its spear-form and thrust the weapon at the intruder's chest as he had done before. This time, however, it would not just be sharpened steel that would strike the intruder.
As the tip of Aglar's blade shot forth towards it target, the elf activated his Semblance. A semi-transparent pale-white flame immediately encompassed the now shining two-edged blade of the sword.
Just as the stock of the intruder's carbine struck him on the left side of his head, Aglar's tip stabbed her chest. The pale flames shot towards the point of contact and exploded in a spectacular burst of white light. Blinding him, and, if he was fortunate, his opponent as well. At least he was only momentarily blinded this time around, and did not go unconscious as had happened in the last successful, if unintentional, use of his Semblance.
A feeling of unparalleled tiredness suddenly took hold of him as though almost all the energy in his body was sucked out of him, and his stomach felt as though it had been crushed under a Goliath's foot. The feeling of falling then took hold of him, and soon enough the sensation of his back crashing hard against the hard ground mercilessly shot through him.
He had not considered that in his plan, but, if he acted fast enough, the pain would be worth it in the end.
Though he still could not see properly, Faen hurriedly tried to get back to his feet whilst also reaching out for any of his weapons. Using both hands, the elf's gloved hands searched the cold floor around him with a measure of desperation. His efforts were in vain, despite how much he tried. Aglar had either landed some distance away from him, which was the worst case scenario; or it was right next to Faen and he was making himself look like an absolutely blind idiot.
Through this Faen's entire mind was also occupied by thoughts of the intruder. Though he was blinded, Faen could still hear perfectly, and he was certain that he could hear movement and hard, heavy breathing somewhere in front of him. They were probably in a worse state than him, being the target for his Semblance and all, but he could not be too careful. Faen needed to grab hold of a weapon as soon as possible.
His sight finally returning to normality, the elf almost instantly locked eyes with the intruder, who was not far off from him, perhaps three metres from him. Faen did not know what his opponent was feeling right now, but it looked as though she must be experiencing some kind of chest pain if the way her hand clutched her chest was anything to go by.
The stranger's green Aura shimmered over her body, and then it began to fail and disappeared after a few seconds. A sound alike to a flame guttering out accompanied it. His Semblance had done its work, now all he had to do was deliver a single cut and this duel would be his.
Before he did anything, the elf noticed a faint light emanating from his person. Looking down to his arms, Faen's eyes widened when he saw his white-coloured Aura shimmer weakly, then complete fade away with a sound similar to shattering ice. Damn it all. Once again he had used far more Aura than he had meant to.
This did not escape the intruder, who had slightly recovered from her pain, and started to search for her own weapon. With little time to act, Faen did the same.
Continuing his search for his weapons, Faen saw that Aglar had fallen a short distance away from him, and that Gwaedh lay a similar distance. Gritting his teeth, Faen made to go for Gwaedh, but he immediately paused where he stood when he cast his eyes towards the intruder. For they had not gone for their carbine-axe, which was maybe a metre or so away from her, instead she had taken out that throwing weapon of hers and started to unfold its three blades. She planned to throw the weapon at him as soon as tried to go for his.
Well, two could play at that game.
Hurriedly ejecting the empty magazine in his wrist-bow, Faen slammed a new one in and aimed at the stranger. Making sure to aim so any bolt he fired would not prove lethal, he aimed and fired. At the same time, the intruder had thrown the three-bladed weapon at him.
Both bolt and throwing weapon sped through the air. Nearly colliding against each other for a brief instant, yet they passed each other by and resumed their course towards their intended targets.
Seeing the throwing weapon was heading straight for his face, Faen attempted to get out of the way, however, he stumbled mid-step as his tired feet almost caused him to fall to the ground. In his effort to stabilise himself, Faen accidentally got back into the throwing weapons way, and felt one of its cold metal blades graze the skin beside his right eye. Faen's heart almost stopped as he felt the steel do so.
After her stabilised himself, much good that did him, the elf rose a gloved hand and gently touched the area beside his right eye with two of fingers, then pulled it away to see what he knew he would find. On the tip of his gloved fingers there was a thin smear of red blood. The sight of it made his heart fall, for it meant one thing.
He had lost.
Looking back to his opponent in order to congratulate her, Faen's eyes widened as he saw a cut beside her own right eye. A thin trail of fresh blood fell from the cut that his bolt must have inflicted on her. She was aware of the minor injury and touched it in the same manner he had done.
"It's a draw?" Faen questioned, disbelief in his voice, for draws were rare for Faen. Hell, the number of times this had happened could be counted on his right hand with fingers to spare.
For her part, the intruder nodded at his declaration in agreement of Faen's words. In an odd sort of way, she appeared content with the outcome of their duel, happy with it even.
As was the way with anything, there were codes and rules that governed what was to be done in the event of a draw. For one, duellists had the right to demand an immediate continuation of their duel or a rematch to be enacted in a later date. In opposition to that previous rule, however, duellists who wished to accept the result as it was could do just that. Even then, any judges who might be present could overrule the duellists' decisions based on their thoughts of the skill demonstrated by the duellists, or their overall conduct during the duel. If all parties reached an impasse, well, that was when things could get overly complicated and honestly stupid.
For example, Faen remembered reading about a series of duels between two great elf warriors that lasted a week due to how neither they, nor the presiding judges, could agree on what to do after both drew in every duel they fought against each other. He forgot how the entire affair ended exactly, but he knew that both duellists ended up killing each other in the end.
Hopefully his draw with this intruder would not end in a similar outcome.
Deciding on what to do next, Faen picked up Gwaedh and returned both it and Aglar to their scabbards. He had no wish to continue fighting the intruder, but it did not mean he was letting his guard down, as he remained ready to act in the case the stranger tried to pull anything that may warrant further violence between the two. Thankfully, the intruder appeared to share the same thoughts as him, for she went off to pick up her carbine-axe and throwing weapon, and put them away.
Both of them were still reeling from the effects of his Semblance, so their movements were slow and a tad clumsy at times.
That was not all the two did, as together, they pulled down their facemasks to reveal their faces to one another. Faen had to remove his helmet first, though, as a sign of courtesy. As soon as he laid eyes on her youthful face, Faen began to feel his heartbeat pick up a little, for though her face did not compare to some super models he had seen, she was beautiful enough in his opinion.
Shaking his head for now was not the time for such thoughts; Faen hoped that perhaps now they could have a normal conversation. Well, normal enough for two people who had fought tooth-and-nail against each other a few moments ago.
"Your name. You never said what your name was," Faen began to say as he placed his helm in the crook of his left arm. Asking for her name was a good start, and he really wanted to cease referring to her as the 'intruder.' "Will you tell it now?"
"Yasmin Doronlas," the intruder immediately replied, speaking for the first time. Her voice was low and sounded as though she had not used it often, but it was as attractive to him as her body was. Pushing these increasingly concerning thoughts to the side, Faen focused on that peculiar Elven surname of hers.
Doronlas. If he was correct, this surname was derived from the Common Elf dialect, just like his own surname. Funnily enough, Faen had heard this surname mentioned in passing only a couple times before by his parents. From what he had been able to infer, it belonged to an Elven family that had moved from the Elven cities years before his own, and had settled in a town several kilometres north of Selene. That was all the young elf knew, or could remember at least.
It had been many years ago when he first heard the name, Doronlas, and Faen found himself incapable of properly recalling why his parents had spoken of the Doronlas family.
Had they spoken of the Doronlas family in a reverant, indifferent, or negative tone? Were all members of the Doronlas family part-elf, part-dracon? How much did his parents even know of the Doronlas family?
Yasmin was not done, though, and continued to speak.
"That is my name, and yours is Faen Tatharion."
In an instant, Faen's eyes narrowed once more, and he moved his right arm so it was ready to take Gwaedh out from its sheathe in a moment's notice. The action, and his intent behind it, did not escape Yasmin, but she did nothing in response to his obvious gesture of caution and distrust. Instead, she simply carried on speaking as though nothing was wrong.
"I watched you battle the Grimm at Forever Fall Forest that day you, and those other creatures, went to collect sap from the forest. Before that," Yasmin took a step towards him, "I already knew who you were. The white-eyed elf who nearly killed a fellow student in Vigil Martial School with their Semblance."
Faen did his best to not visibly react to Yasmin's words, and though he had kept his face straight, there must have been something in his eyes that gave away his inner thoughts and emotions. For he saw a spark of what Faen believed to be amusement dance across her eyes.
The incident Yasmin spoke of had occurred just shy of seven years ago. It had been during a spar with a pest of a Satyr classmate who had angered him so much, Faen used his Semblance on the prancing bastard, just when the goat-man was about to win. It was the first time Faen had used it, and it was the first time he discovered the lethal capabilities that it possessed. Still, in spite of how Faen could have nearly killed his opponent, it was well worth seeing that smug twit squirm in agony before him.
Gratifying memories of a satyr in pain aside, there were more pressing concerns to occupy his mind. Such as how Yasmin could possibly know of it.
"You know of that? How?" Faen questioned Yasmin, his hand still prepared to draw Gwaedh from its scabbard, despite his current physical state.
"Everyone in Vigil knew, as such, everyone in Sentry knew as well." Yasmin replied as she crossed her arms. Her answer prompted Faen to roll his eyes as soon as she mentioned the word 'Sentry'.
Sentry was another Martial School located on Avalon, and was the rival of Vigil Martial School. Honestly, they were rival institutions long before they were converted into Martial Schools, being bitter enemies back when they were warrior shrines. Shrines were sanctuaries where demi-humans could hone their skills as warriors, and sold those same warriors off as mercenaries when it was beneficial. Among the things that were carried over from those bygone days, aside from their deep-seated spite for one another, was the two institutions' tendency to spy on each other's activities.
His incident was supposed to have remained within Vigil's walls on the instance of Vigils Mentors. However, if Yasmin was being truthful, Sentry spies had learnt of it somehow.
"So, you were from Sentry," Faen spoke in a steady, low voice. He did not personally care for Vigil and Sentry's rivalry, despite attending the former, and felt no hostility towards Yasmin for studying in the latter. Any hostility directed towards Yasmin would be because of his suspicions of her intentions, of which he still did not know. "That is far from here. What was it you were doing all the way in Forever Fall?"
"Culling rats," Yasmin vaguely responded to him, her voice becoming even lower than it was before. Almost... no, now was not the time for such thoughts. "But as I witnessed your excellence with a blade, as well as our shared heritage, I just had to battle against you. Truly worthy opponents are hard to find after all, and you proved more than worthy. It was only after further contemplation during my journey here that I recognised you."
As if he had need of further reasons to suspect Yasmin, she just had to give him a cryptic answer. She just had to. It was almost as though Yasmin wanted him to distrust her.
'Rats' could mean just about anything. Yasmin could be referring to Grimm, bandits, Kingdomers, hell; even literal rats might be what she was talking about. That she was 'culling' whatever the 'rats' were certainly did nothing to allay his suspicious, so long as she did not explain herself to him. Again, this was assuming that Yasmin was telling him the truth in the first place.
And, until definite proof was presented to him, Faen very much doubted Yasmin's reason for breaking in Beacon and challenging him to a duel all of a sudden. She probably did not wish to kill him, for if she had they would most certainly not be having this conversation right now. Even then, it was better to be cautious than to blindly trust this perplexing stranger.
By the gods, fighting Yasmin was far simpler than having a conversation with her as far as Faen was concerned.
"Hmph, if you say so," Faen snorted, making his unconvinced thoughts known to Yasmin through the tone used in his voice. For her part, the elf-dracon hybrid remained calm, and only tilted her head to the side in response to his remark. Before more could be said, Faen heard the sparring room's door click open, and when he turned to see who had entered, the elf's eyes widened as soon as he laid eyes on them.
It was the gorgon professor of Beacon. Kallisto Taupe.
"Professor Taupe!" Faen exclaimed as the gorgon professor stepped through the doorway. It seems she had recently returned from her Hecatoncheire extermination mission, judging by the fact she was arrayed in her full, rather dishevelled combat outfit, and carried her kopis sword and gun-shield. As the professor drew closer, Faen, as well as Yasmin, wrinkled his nose and almost gagged when he caught a whiff of Taupe's scent.
It was absolutely horrid. Not only did the professor smell of days old sweat, there was also blood and... sewage?
"Hmmm. That bad, huh?" Taupe grumbled out a question as she quickly noticed the two's reaction to her abominable smell. Judging from the irritable tone of her voice, the professor was not in the best mood right now. So it would be best if he did nothing to get on her nerves. Hopefully Yasmin was wise enough to do the same. "You are better off not knowing what happened. And don't worry; I am cleaner than I smell."
Flashing a quick look in Yasmin's direction, Faen saw that his former opponent was just standing where she stood. Nothing in her body language suggested she was going to try something aggressive to either him or the professor, nor did she seem to wish for an escape from this situation. Faen kept himself combat ready, anyway.
"I had thought there was a need for my personal intervention when the Headmaster notified me of an armed trespasser on Beacon grounds. Is such a thing still necessary?" The professor asked Faen, gazing sternly at him with her cyan eyes, while half of the snakes on her head scrutinised Yasmin. After a quick scan of Yasmin's person with her snake-hair, the gorgon turned her face to the elf-dracon, and began to question her. "Who might you be? And why have broken into our Academy?"
"Yasmin Doronlas. I came to your Academy to challenge Faen to a duel, nothing more," Yasmin coolly responded with a slight bow of her in greeting.
"Is that so?" Professor Taupe slowly uttered, drawing out each word. "Forgive me for not immediately believing you."
It was then that the professor took note of his new armour, and was quick to address it. Her eyes, and that of half her snakes, were still focused squarely on Yasmin as she spoke once again.
"That armour of Elven make?"
"I believe so," Faen quickly replied to the professor's inquiry. Finding himself standing taller and straighter the moment the armour was brought up by the professor, as he did with every other person who mentioned it. "I only received it last Friday."
"Really now? Wear it well, Mister Tatharion," Professor Taupe said as a few of her snakes proceeded to nod once to him. Faen could swear he saw what might have been intrigue dash across their eyes, but it might just be him imagining things.
For a moment, the three stood in silence, with Taupe repeatedly switching her gaze between Faen and Yasmin. Then, the gorgon took a couple steps away from them and let out a shrill hiss. Two of her snakes instantly framed the sides of Taupe's mask and began to converse with them, while the rest of the snakes on the professor's head kept a close eye on the two young demi-humans. Understandably, Yasmin turned to Faen and sent him a questioning look.
"She does this from time to time," Faen quietly said to Yasmin, "it is best if you do not question it."
"I'll... take your word for it," Yasmin replied, seemingly still confused by the professor's strange habit. He had grown accustomed to it by now, as did many other first-years, and it was actually a fair bit amusing to see people who were not react to the professor speaking to her snakes.
Returning their attention to Professor Taupe, they saw her muttering something in an unintelligible, hissing language back to the snakes she was currently conversing with. After a bit more back and forth between the gorgon and her snake-hair, she sheathed her kopis and looked back towards Faen then Yasmin. Sending a hard, penetrating look at the pair of them while she did.
"Hmph. Dare I ask which one of you did that? Professor Goodwitch is going to be pissed once she learns of it," the gorgon abruptly stated, her eyes looking past them and locking on the two halves of what once was a whole bench. The same bench Yasmin had cut in half after Faen had thrown it at her. "Oh whatever. Mister Tatharion, would you and our guest accompany me to the Headmaster's office? The Headmaster will want a word with the both of you."
As she spoke, the professor placed a hand on the butt of her sheathed kopis sword's handle. Signifying to the both of them that what she just said was a command more than anything else.
Seeing as how the both of them were still experiencing the after-effects of Faen's Semblance, the two saw no other choice, but to follow the professor to Headmaster Ozpin's office. Yasmin was surprisingly willing to follow through with the professor's command, for she started moving before Faen did. The elf shared a quick sideways look with the gorgon before he followed after Yasmin.
He was not looking forward to the discussion they were going to have the Headmaster.
Friesian the Dullahan was lounging in the common room. There was not much else he could do, apart from catch up on his History classwork, again, but he did not feel like doing that yet. He would get it done in time. Besides, the work was not due for quite some time, so there was plenty of time to sit down and not worry about it.
Faen had gone off to continue practising in that new, flashy armour that was delivered a few days ago. Akagi had gone off to do... whatever it was that Akagi did. Finally, Grey was off hanging out with Team AMRT in the cafeteria. He would have liked to join his partner, but the dullahan felt that he would much rather stay in the common room for now.
He had spent half the day in here, and plenty of that time was putting the finishing touches on the game of Dark Paths he was setting up.
When he told his team of it, Friesian was overjoyed when they told him that they were willing to play. Sure Faen needed a bit of encouraging from Grey to agree with the idea, and Odori made some remark in her native language that he suspected was a derisory comment, but they all agreed to it in the end. He even went so far as to extend the same offer to the others in RWBY, JNPR, and AMRT. Like with his own team, it took a bit to convince one or two of them, nevertheless, they too agreed to play Dark Paths when the opportunity arose.
The thought of playing this game with his friends made him absolutely giddy with excitement, as Friesian's old friends back home had never been interested in playing Dark Paths. Claiming that it was too 'geeky,' and that there were much better things they could do instead. Such as playing a new FPS game, seeing the new Stellar Warfare movie trilogy, or talking about the latest football results.
Now, though, things were different. He could finally, finally live out his dream of being a Gamemaster.
It was as Friesian was sat on a common room sofa, unconsciously grinning madly and enthusiastically rubbing his hands together, that he heard the common room door swing open. Friesian immediately stopped what he was doing and held up his head to check on who it was that had arrived. He was glad to see it was Faen who had come back from his training, yet, he was not alone. Weirdly enough, the person with him was not someone he remembered ever seeing here in Beacon.
They were a lithe young woman of a similar age to the rest of FFOG, if Friesian had to take a guess, and, curiously enough, they were a demi-human. Faen's companion had the ears of an Elf and possessed four horns atop her head. Suggesting they were of mixed heritage, but what that other part of her could be was unknown to Friesian. Without a doubt they not Demon horns, neither did they belong to a Oni, Satyr, or Minotaur.
Aside from her ears and horns, the dullahan also took note of the stranger's hair and veil-like facemask. The facemask was nothing too special; it was her long white hair that was more intriguing. Her hair colour was exactly like Faen's, leading Faen to question whether or not the two were related. Perhaps he could ask them that later on.
"This is our common room," Faen seemed to explain to the stranger, then gestured to Friesian saying, "and that is my teammate. Friesian Bones."
"What's up?" Friesian greeted the two new arrivals, not really knowing what else he was supposed to say apart from that.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," the stranger slowly replied in a surprisingly low voice. Somehow, Friesian was not convinced that the stranger was being completely sincere in her words. "I believe I have seen enough. You will not mind if I head off to my dorm, do you? I know the way."
"Not at all," the team leader of FFOG muttered out in response to the estranger. For a second, the two held each other's gaze, and then disengaged as soon as they had connected. Then, without another word, the stranger turned on her heel and walked back out of the common room, leaving the young men to themselves.
Letting out a quick sigh, Faen pinched the bridge of his nose before choosing to walk over to a nearby chair and tiredly collapsing onto it.
"Who-Who exactly was that?" The dullahan asked his team leader, still uncertain as to just who the stranger was and why she had been in Faen's company. By now, Friesian was well aware of his team leader's reluctance to interact with unfamiliar people, only doing so when the occasion made it absolutely necessary or advantageous. So it was certainly odd that Faen was showing that stranger around the way he did just now.
"Yasmin Doronlas," Faen grunted as he sank even deeper into his chair and placed a hand on his forehead. "Our new... reserve team member."
"Uh, what?" Freisian questioned Faen the moment he finished that last sentence of his. "Did I just hear you right?"
"You did. The Headmaster himself decreed it so," Faen immediately responded, sounding not too happy about this new arrangement for some reason. "From now on, Yasmin will act as a sort of assistant for Professor Taupe every so often, while also being the fifth member of Team FFOG. She is, at the very least, a highly competent fighter. Trust me."
"Is that even allowed? I mean, I've never seen a rule stating there can't be additional members to a team, but neither have I seen a rule saying otherwise." Friesian continued, still finding this new bit of news to be quite confusing. Why did Headmaster Ozpin appoint them a fifth team member all of a sudden? Were they to be known as Team FFOGY now?
"Ruby is fifteen as she in Beacon," Faen quickly pointed out. It took Friesian a moment to think about it, but he was right about Ruby, and there was no way he could argue about it.
This was all really confusing to Friesian, and it was not only because of Yasmin's unannounced appointment as a reserve member of FFOG. What was probably more confusing than that, was the feelings Faen and Yasmin held for one another.
Now, Friesian did not mean any of that sappy romance stuff he watched and read from every so often. What the dullahan meant by 'feelings' was the obvious distrust Faen felt towards Yasmin, which was only made more complicated by what Friesian assumed to be a measure of respect between the two. Friesian's team leader was not as good at hiding emotions as he might think he was, and it was quite obvious to Friesian that the elf had some pretty mixed emotions towards Yasmin. Just where these emotions stemmed from in the first place was a whole bag of cats Friesian was unsure he wanted to open.
"Good point," the dullahan acknowledged Faen's previous words. Hopefully this kind of behaviour was not going to become a frequent habit of Beacon's Headmaster. "What's she like, anyway? What is she? And where is she from?"
"She's part elf and part dracon. You know those demi-humans with dragon horns, wings, and tails." Well, that certainly explained where Yasmin for those unique traits of hers. Remaining silent, Friesian leaned forward as he intently listened to what else Faen had to say about Yasmin. "She's from Avalon, just like me and Grey, though she attended a separate Martial School. For her weapons she has this carbine that can transform into a battleaxe, a spare combat knife, and a throwing weapon with three blades. As for what she is like, well, I can't really say exactly. Just... keep an eye on her, will you?"
"Sure thing boss," Friesian quickly responded. He would have liked to know a bit more than that, yet, it was good enough for now. It was then that Friesian took not of a fresh, light scar just to the side of Faen's right eye. "Hold up. Where did you get that cut?"
"Yasmin. When she first met me, Yasmin challenged me to a duel in a traditional Elven manner, so I had to fight her." Faen admitted after spending several seconds quietly contemplating his answer, or so Friesian thought anyway. "I-I used my Semblance to get her Aura down to zero, and it worked, at the cost of all my own. We drew after I fired a bolt that grazed her right, while her throwing one did the same to me."
Hearing this, Friesian could not help but frown at what he had just been told. That Faen wished him to keep an eye on Yasmin already did the latest addition to FFOG no favour, but hearing she and his team leader got into a fight upon meeting each other did not sit well with Friesian. He could only imagine how Grey and Akagi would take the news if Faen decided to tell them.
Friesian really hoped the Headmaster knew what he was doing when he chose to lump this stranger with them.
"Where's Team RWBY?" Faen groaned as he massaged his eyelids, changing the subject to something other than Yasmin.
"No idea. Yang said they were going to look for Blake in Vale, but, apart from a phone call I got at 3PM, I haven't heard from them since. I'm guessing that they still haven't found Blake," Friesian took a moment to check his Scroll to see if anyone had tried to call or text him, but found there was nothing. He really hoped that this entire affair would be resolved soon. "You know, that strange girl RWBY spoke of before Blake disappeared was with them last time I called them. Let me tell you, she sounded almost as barmy Nora."
Faen appeared to only be half-listening when the dullahan was talking about Penny, which he did find rude, but was able to shrug it off. The guy seemed tired, like really tired, and looked to be on the verge of dozing off right then and there. This would not do if they wanted to continue their current conversation.
"How about I make you some tea, eh? You honestly look like you need it," Friesian offered hopefully, thinking that maybe a good brew would keep his team leader awake. Besides, the guy was working himself to death with all the training he had been doing lately, so some tea was the very least of what he deserved for all that hard work.
"Coffee, please." The elf requested instead in a low, yet grateful voice.
Friesian and Faen never spent a lot of time alone with each other. The latter seemed to prefer the company of Grey and Akagi over his, but Friesian made the best of what time they got. Now was hopefully one of those times where the two could have a deeply heart to heart conversation as Friesian heard Faen had with their other two teammates.
While Friesian was checking the cabinet where they kept all their teas and coffees, none of the stuff Faen preferred was in there. Oh well, he could use some that imported Altesian instant coffee Weiss drank from time to time.
Coffee was coffee. There should not be too much of a difference, right?
After spending a few minutes preparing Faen's coffee, it was finally done. Turning to present the mug of steaming brown liquid to his team leader, Friesian was surprised, and a bit disappointed, to see the elf had actually fallen asleep on his chair. It was a damn shame, as Friesian very much wanted to discuss a few things with Faen, but the guy looked as though he needed the sleep, so Friesian left him be. Still, there was a fresh mug of coffee in his hands, and it would be extremely wasteful if he just let it go cold or poured it down the sink.
Since Faen was not going to drink his coffee, the dullahan reasoned that he might as well have it, seeing as there was no one else around. If this coffee was good enough for a fancy heiress like Weiss, it should be good enough for him. Lifting the mug up to his lips, Friesian took one sip and almost dropped it to the floor as soon as the highly bitter liquid assailed his taste buds.
"Weiss drinks this?! Ugh, Altesian coffee is vile!" Friesian exclaimed as he put the mug on the kitchen counter and hurriedly scrambled for a bottle of water to wash the godawful taste of Altesian coffee from his mouth.
'Gods above. Save me from the idiocy from fools!' Oberon screamed inside of his head as he stormed out of the latest gathering of the Avaloni parliament in the City of Avalon. The capital city of the Enclave of Avalon. His four imposing Troll guards marching with him.
Much like it had been for the last several gatherings; it had been more of a disorganised shouting match between wild savages than a intelligent debate between civilised people. There had been times where the Parliamentary representatives looked about ready to come to blows with each others. It was a relief that they did not, but it had been too close, and no new legislature had been passed.
This latest frustration was due in part because someone had spread false rumours that he was trying to push a bill advocating for increased openness to outlanders. That he wished to allow Kingdomers, and those not of demi-human stock, into Avalon's heartlands. These were lies, for not once had such bill ever crossed the Faery King's mind. Though Oberon did wish for more cooperation between the Encalves and the Kingdoms, he had no desire for Avalon's heartlands to be open to outlanders.
There were just a few things that were best left as they were.
Another reason why the Avaloni Parliament had nearly devolved into a schoolyard brawl was the rising tensions between the various people that lived on the Enclave. Factions had formed in the towns and cities of the Enclave, each one vying against the others over some goal or ideal they pursued. Be it the supremacy of a certain species, or how the Avaloni government was run. It even extended to the Avaloni Parliament.
While there had always been factions in the Parliament, such as Oberon's own shadow faction which secretly worked to bring about laws that favoured his own goals, never had the factions gone so extreme as they were now.
For example, an isolationist faction, one first formed after the Great War, had risen in power and made it their mission to impede any legislature that promoted cooperation with the Kingdoms. Another promoted coexistence with the Kingdoms, and was the arch-rival of the isolationists. There were other smaller factions whose goals and ideals aligned with the previous two, but ultimately, they had their own agendas. Oberon's agents within the factions did their best to secretly curtail any detriment plans that endangered his and the Order's, which they had done a fair job of.
Still, even with his agent's intervention, the situation was only barely manageable, and unless something was done soon, it could very well descend to a point where the Enclave would fall into chaos. With chaos came Grimm, and when Grimm came, death was sure to follow. Such a chain of events were common throughout history, and the threat of it happening again loomed over Avalon.
All of this was no doubt a part of The Enemy's insipid plan to undermine their hard-earned peace, and bring about the total ruination of Avalon and all of Remnant. Well, the only way they would achieve that would be over his dead body.
"Your Grace," a husky voice called to Oberon before he could travel far. Turning to face whoever had spoken to him, Oberon saw that it was the Parliament's Angelic Representative, Azazel Onyx, one of his most ardent supporters in the Avaloni Parliament and oldest of friends. The two of them first met each other at boarding school and remained lifelong friends through all the intervening years.
Azazel was a tall, slim man with fair skin, black eyes, and tan-brown hair that was neatly combed back. As with the rest of his species, Azazel had two large snow-white wings protruding from his back. He wore a three-piece suit consisting of an onyx black double-breasted jacket and pants, with a silverfish-white waistcoat over a white-striped black shirt, and a dark-red tie. On his lapel was his signature golden pin depicting a goat's head.
Oberon never understood why his friend chose a goat of all creatures for his pin. Whenever he asked, as well as when he suggested a different lapel in, Azazel would just laugh and claim it was good enough for him.
Despite their long history with one another, Oberon had never made Azazel a part of his work for the Order. The angel already had enough on his plate, the Faery King did not wish to burden his friend even more than
A low rumble came from his Troll Guards as Azazel approached the Oberon, but were quickly silenced by a quick gesture of the Faery King's hand. The Trolls were rather protective of Oberon, and while he appreciated their concern and service, they could be quite trying at times. More than once had he needed to order them to stand down over the smallest of incidents.
"That was a particularly ugly session. I almost thought Bjarte was actually going to attack Arien," Azazel sighed as he and Oberon walked side by side towards the Parliament building's front exit. "To think someone would blow their top like that over a comment about their beard."
"What did you expect? Bjarte is a dwarf after all, and they just love their beards." Oberon said with a shake of his head, his mind going back to a "Will you stop by the Midsummer Palace for dinner?"
"Hah. I would love to, so long as you are not the one cooking this time around. My stomach is still recovering from that sorry excuse of a casserole you made the last time I came over," the angel beside him replied with an almost musical laugh.
"Come on now, it was not that terrible," Oberon jokingly argued as they neared the exit, "you were only in the hospital for food poisoning for a week."
As soon as the two exited the Parlimentary building's great iron doors, Oberon frowned the instant he laid eyes on the small crowd stood outside the gates to the Parliamentary building. Members of the local constabulary were trying to keep them away from the gates, while the Parliamentary Guard stood ready to intervene if things got out of hand. Another crowd, another demonstration against the recent policies made by Parliament.
The demonstrators consisted of all sorts of demi-human species, however, seeing as how the City of Avalon was a coastal settlement that permitted outlanders in its walls, a small minority of humans and faunus were there as well. They stood separate from the demi-humans for the most part. Particularly the humans.
Even from this distance the Faery King could hear their angry voices shout at him and the Parliamentary Representatives as they left the building.
"More demonstrators. You would think these people had much better things to do than shout and wave signs at us," Azazel disdainfully scoffed at the sight of the crowd outside the gates. While Oberon shared the same sentiment as his friend, he allowed the crowds to gather and shout until their voices became hoarse. Taking violent action towards the crowds would only galvanise the people against him, and give more power to The Enemy.
'Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,' Oberon thought to himself as he and Azazel descended down the steps to the waiting car below. Quoting an old Valean play that he had taken a liking to.
Suddenly, Oberon heard a loud bang, followed shortly after by another, and felt as if he had been punched twice in the chest. Chaos erupted around him, as people ducked down or ran away. Azazel yelled something, what it was Oberon did not hear, and stood before him as though to shield him from harm. Of his Troll Guard, all four of them formed a diamond formation around him and raised their Avaloni Spears so to protect their monarch.
Looking down to where he felt as though he had been punched, Oberon noticed two holes had ripped the front of his suit jacket. Gingerly, with trembling hands, the King of Avalon opened up his jacket and looked in wide-eyed horror as he laid eyes on two bloodstained holes that had torn his shirt. Feeling weak all of a sudden, Oberon fell backwards, collapsing on the very steps of the Avaloni Parliament building.
As his vision darkened, and he became deaf to all that was happening around him, Oberon's mind tried to think of how or why this could happen before that too began to go blank.
Hope you liked the fight scene at the start, for I am still unsure whether I am good at them. Oh well, I have written it, so there is little else I can do about it now.
For those wondering, the details of the conversation between Faen, Ozpin, Taupe, and Yasmin will be revealed over time. Do not fret.
New Characters:
Yasmin Doronlas: 'Yasmin' is Arabic for 'jasmine', a white petalled flower. 'Doronlas' is a combination of the Sindarin words 'Doron' meaning oak, and 'lass' means leaf. I spent two full months trying to properly decide what Yasmin would be like, and had a completely different plan for her character originally. Imagine her 'three-bladed throwing weapon' to be alike to a the Glaive in Warframe, which is the incorrect usage of the word I must say.
Azazel Onyx: 'Azazel' has no specific meaning, as far as I am aware, but it is speculated to mean 'scapegoat' in Hebrew. 'Onyx' is a mineral with bands that range from all sorts of colours, though black and white are the most famous.