"I could never pass off a fight," he told her. "Tomorrow morning I
want to fight," he said closing his eyes. He was going to sleep on the
couch tonight.
Freya smiled to herself, but it faded quickly. Visions of Sir Fratley, and how he might've died filled her head, so she began to cry.
Amarant could only look at her from under his big mange of hair. She should forget him already. Why didn't she? She knew he didn't love her, so why did she insist on thinking of him.
A few moments later she managed to cry herself to sleep, and Amarant fell asleep as well.
The next morning, like they said, they fought:
They both met in the center of Alexandria. They took stance, and stared each other down.
Then they attacked each other. Pike in hand, and Claws extended. They fought with great skills, and performance.
Amarant suddenly slashed Freya in the face. She screamed out in agony, and she wiped blood from her face. With a blury vision, she leaped up into the air.
Amarant put his hand above his face, and looked to the bright sky to find her, when suddenly she came down, and struct him.
He stumbled back a few moments, then regained his posture. They continued to fight, until Freya had enough. She took out her "gift," from Amarant, and used it for her atvantage.
"So your going to use that for the fight," he said out, "Fine, I'll just have use my own," with that said, he reached into his pocket, and optained his own secret.
What happened next was in confusion. Both of them, attacked with their techniques at once.
The waves crashed against the shore, one after another. The soothing waves awoke Freya Cresent. She sat up quickly, and painfully, and looked around. Why was she on the beach. She looked around, and didn't see anyone around.
Suddenly she heard someone walk towards her, so she turned around, and saw Amarant.
"I guess I lost," she said, and took off her hand. Half of it seemed to burn off.
Amarant took a seat next to her, "No you won," he said in a low voice. It seemed that he was straining to talk. Maybe he was sick?
"But I'm injuried, unlike you," she said. She sat her hat on the ground next to herself.
Amarant pointed at his arm, which hung at his side. "I can't move it," he said.
"So I guess your gift was something," she said to him.
Amarant explained to her about the fight, and what happened to both of them. What he told her made her smile; a smile that she hadn't smiled in a long time. She was happy now.
The next day Amarant went with Freya to visit the cave where Sir Fratley died. She put flowers where she saw that blood stained a section of the floor.
"I guess I could move on now," she told him.
"You better, because when your depressed you tend to be a bitch," he said as his usual self.
"Fine, I'll be happy," she told him, and meant it, by the smile on her face.
I guess wishes do come true.
Freya smiled to herself, but it faded quickly. Visions of Sir Fratley, and how he might've died filled her head, so she began to cry.
Amarant could only look at her from under his big mange of hair. She should forget him already. Why didn't she? She knew he didn't love her, so why did she insist on thinking of him.
A few moments later she managed to cry herself to sleep, and Amarant fell asleep as well.
The next morning, like they said, they fought:
They both met in the center of Alexandria. They took stance, and stared each other down.
Then they attacked each other. Pike in hand, and Claws extended. They fought with great skills, and performance.
Amarant suddenly slashed Freya in the face. She screamed out in agony, and she wiped blood from her face. With a blury vision, she leaped up into the air.
Amarant put his hand above his face, and looked to the bright sky to find her, when suddenly she came down, and struct him.
He stumbled back a few moments, then regained his posture. They continued to fight, until Freya had enough. She took out her "gift," from Amarant, and used it for her atvantage.
"So your going to use that for the fight," he said out, "Fine, I'll just have use my own," with that said, he reached into his pocket, and optained his own secret.
What happened next was in confusion. Both of them, attacked with their techniques at once.
The waves crashed against the shore, one after another. The soothing waves awoke Freya Cresent. She sat up quickly, and painfully, and looked around. Why was she on the beach. She looked around, and didn't see anyone around.
Suddenly she heard someone walk towards her, so she turned around, and saw Amarant.
"I guess I lost," she said, and took off her hand. Half of it seemed to burn off.
Amarant took a seat next to her, "No you won," he said in a low voice. It seemed that he was straining to talk. Maybe he was sick?
"But I'm injuried, unlike you," she said. She sat her hat on the ground next to herself.
Amarant pointed at his arm, which hung at his side. "I can't move it," he said.
"So I guess your gift was something," she said to him.
Amarant explained to her about the fight, and what happened to both of them. What he told her made her smile; a smile that she hadn't smiled in a long time. She was happy now.
The next day Amarant went with Freya to visit the cave where Sir Fratley died. She put flowers where she saw that blood stained a section of the floor.
"I guess I could move on now," she told him.
"You better, because when your depressed you tend to be a bitch," he said as his usual self.
"Fine, I'll be happy," she told him, and meant it, by the smile on her face.
I guess wishes do come true.