Mages of the Isle Part I: The 14 stones of Eldire
Chapter 7:
Peter and Francisco stared in awe at the 3 swords stuck in the ground. The owner of the weapons yelled from a distance.
"Peter, get up, I won't be able to block something like that again!"
Having no arguements, and thanking God for such a saviour to arrive, Peter got up from the ground and headed towards the voice. It wasn't until he was well away from Francisco that Peter looked at his new 'best friend'. Meanwhile Francisco continued to gape at the swords in the ground.
"Who...How did you know my name? I have never seen you before." Peter asked the stranger.
"My name is Nikita. I live at the swamp's edge, and I saw you this morning. You looked a little out of place.... Or out of mind..... Heading into the swamp like that. I decided to follow you, and you should be very glad that I did." Nikita replied.
That's when Peter noticed Nikita's Blades. Two broadswords filled her hands, each with a hook like part at the end of them. A third which was slightly larger, was on her back. She began to walk over to Francisco, most likely with the intent of retrieving her blades. After plucking them all from the soft earth, whilst watching the dangerous man, she somehow combined the three from the ground into one large sword, and the three she had on her into another.
"I don't know who you are, or what this young boy did to you." Nikta stated, while Peter stood mouthing 'young boy' in disbelief. "But I doubt it was so severe a crime that it deserved a death sentence.!"
Francisco finally realised what was happening, and stood up in a new stance.
"I was just protecting myself." Francisco argued "I have never seen so many people who strut around in armour, but it seems that your people, wherever they come from, do. So if I seem a little edgy, excuse me. Anyways, how do I know you both aren't in this together, trying to take my lands. I've lived in these swamps for 15 years now, and the last person who came here tried to thank my hospitality with a sword in my gut. I am not the man who would fall for a trick twice, so unless you have proof of your peaceful disposition, I suggest you leave or kill me."
"As a level 1 Jihado, I refuse to step down from an encounter, nor surrender my weapons." Nikita answered firmly "So unless you wish to give up, a fight will be inevitable."
"Ahh, finally, a fair match, for I am also a Jihado, and am under the same codes as you." Francisco said "But I am level 3."
At that instant, both combatants struck each other's weapons, clanging, anf flipped around to their left. It was almost like watching a person fighting their reflection, both fighters mimicing each other almost perfectly. Peter continued to stare at the two combatants. Oh how he wished he could fight like them, move and jump with such ease. It had been complete chance that he had pulled of such a perfect backflip earlier. It was probably the adrenaline flowing through him that allowed him to do so. But Nikita and Francisco were both total gymnasts. Half of their fighting consisted of flips. As Peter continued to ponder, the two continued to fight.
"In all my years, I have never met a Jihado level 1 who could fight so well." Francisco said, panting and fighting whilst saying it.
"I seriously didn't think that someone trained in the Jihado arts 15 years ago would be able to keep up with new techniques." Nikita replied, also still fighting. "But I am afraid I must end this."
That's when Nikita forced both broadswords up, pushing aside Francisco's Kris'. She then flipped backwards, without moving backwards, and struck Francisco's chin with her ponytail, which had a small spiky- metal ball on the end. This dazed the man for a few seconds, giving Nikita the chance to strike both blades out of Francisco's hands. She quickly turned her right sword to his neck, and pulled her left arm up and over her head, in a stance that wouldn't let him get away without a fatal wound.
For anyone who likes my stories, please get more people to read and reply, including yourself. Even if it's a short comment. It really gives me the energy to keep writing. I want to make a many chaptered story, and probably a continuing story or two, but I can only write for my real life friends so long, until I JUST GIVE UP. Next chapter is gonna be HOT!(like, cool scenes and fighting, not rated R stuff, Okay you sick minded child.)
Chapter 7:
Peter and Francisco stared in awe at the 3 swords stuck in the ground. The owner of the weapons yelled from a distance.
"Peter, get up, I won't be able to block something like that again!"
Having no arguements, and thanking God for such a saviour to arrive, Peter got up from the ground and headed towards the voice. It wasn't until he was well away from Francisco that Peter looked at his new 'best friend'. Meanwhile Francisco continued to gape at the swords in the ground.
"Who...How did you know my name? I have never seen you before." Peter asked the stranger.
"My name is Nikita. I live at the swamp's edge, and I saw you this morning. You looked a little out of place.... Or out of mind..... Heading into the swamp like that. I decided to follow you, and you should be very glad that I did." Nikita replied.
That's when Peter noticed Nikita's Blades. Two broadswords filled her hands, each with a hook like part at the end of them. A third which was slightly larger, was on her back. She began to walk over to Francisco, most likely with the intent of retrieving her blades. After plucking them all from the soft earth, whilst watching the dangerous man, she somehow combined the three from the ground into one large sword, and the three she had on her into another.
"I don't know who you are, or what this young boy did to you." Nikta stated, while Peter stood mouthing 'young boy' in disbelief. "But I doubt it was so severe a crime that it deserved a death sentence.!"
Francisco finally realised what was happening, and stood up in a new stance.
"I was just protecting myself." Francisco argued "I have never seen so many people who strut around in armour, but it seems that your people, wherever they come from, do. So if I seem a little edgy, excuse me. Anyways, how do I know you both aren't in this together, trying to take my lands. I've lived in these swamps for 15 years now, and the last person who came here tried to thank my hospitality with a sword in my gut. I am not the man who would fall for a trick twice, so unless you have proof of your peaceful disposition, I suggest you leave or kill me."
"As a level 1 Jihado, I refuse to step down from an encounter, nor surrender my weapons." Nikita answered firmly "So unless you wish to give up, a fight will be inevitable."
"Ahh, finally, a fair match, for I am also a Jihado, and am under the same codes as you." Francisco said "But I am level 3."
At that instant, both combatants struck each other's weapons, clanging, anf flipped around to their left. It was almost like watching a person fighting their reflection, both fighters mimicing each other almost perfectly. Peter continued to stare at the two combatants. Oh how he wished he could fight like them, move and jump with such ease. It had been complete chance that he had pulled of such a perfect backflip earlier. It was probably the adrenaline flowing through him that allowed him to do so. But Nikita and Francisco were both total gymnasts. Half of their fighting consisted of flips. As Peter continued to ponder, the two continued to fight.
"In all my years, I have never met a Jihado level 1 who could fight so well." Francisco said, panting and fighting whilst saying it.
"I seriously didn't think that someone trained in the Jihado arts 15 years ago would be able to keep up with new techniques." Nikita replied, also still fighting. "But I am afraid I must end this."
That's when Nikita forced both broadswords up, pushing aside Francisco's Kris'. She then flipped backwards, without moving backwards, and struck Francisco's chin with her ponytail, which had a small spiky- metal ball on the end. This dazed the man for a few seconds, giving Nikita the chance to strike both blades out of Francisco's hands. She quickly turned her right sword to his neck, and pulled her left arm up and over her head, in a stance that wouldn't let him get away without a fatal wound.
For anyone who likes my stories, please get more people to read and reply, including yourself. Even if it's a short comment. It really gives me the energy to keep writing. I want to make a many chaptered story, and probably a continuing story or two, but I can only write for my real life friends so long, until I JUST GIVE UP. Next chapter is gonna be HOT!(like, cool scenes and fighting, not rated R stuff, Okay you sick minded child.)