"Strike to kill or you'll never stand a chance against me, boy!" The amber eyes were hard and cruel, the mouth set in a grim smile and the silver swords were lifted in a defensive position.

"I…I…" The young stoat stammered, gripping his own blades hesitantly, his body shaking but not from any cold. "I've never…I don't want…to kill you…"

"We'll have to fix that," The ebony-furred stoat replied without a trace of remorse. "You strike with any intention of holding back and no sword will ever penetrate your opponent's flesh if you cling to some stupid idealism! Kill or be killed, Arredon Toroth, I've trained you just for that!"
He'd only struck at targets, only attacked his teacher with wooden practice swords. He had known he would be required to fight, but to kill? Could he? He'd killed before, yes…he'd killed his own…his own…

"Yes…master…" The young stoat whispered, fighting back the tears that threatened to break free from him. Could he ever wield a blade with intention to harm the stoat before him? The one who'd rescued him, who'd given him a purpose?

He steeled himself…strike to kill, strike so he himself would live and not the enemy. It didn't matter who it was so long as he stayed alive…it didn't matter. And yet…

He came forward, the speed perfect, the attacks coordinated, mastered fully in the many training sessions they had been through over the last year How many times had he stopped the fight, dropped his swords only to feel the pain in his paws and the horrible aches in his arms and legs. The bruises he had retained from his teacher hurt less than the knowledge that he was failing him…the oozing blisters on his paws were a testament to his own weakness. He could have wept in frustration, if he still remembered how.

"If you cannot even understand this, then you do not deserve to finish your training. It is my duty as your master to spare you this." Davrag Joris replied as he countered the first of the blows, "You can do better than this, Arredon! Fight or you shall die!"

I want to…I want to live…

Sudden fires blazed in his eyes as he leaped back, regaining his balance and avoiding a skewering strike from Davrag's offensive blade. With a feral snarl, he lunged forward, sword diving at Davrag's stomach.

"Yes…" Davrag whispered, a wide grin spreading over his face as he brought one sword down to smack Arredon's blade away. "Follow up, the target is the right side of the neck!"

Arredon was already moving, sword stabbing in such conditions that it would slice into the flesh of the neck, severing an artery, slaying the adversary almost instantly. But Davrag, being well versed in the art of the two-pawed swordplay had found the counter to this move long ago.

His body dropped into a crouch, sword holding Arredon's twirling over in a swift disengage as he spun to regain the position and advantage in a stance that would leave him a dozen easy slashes at his off-guard and helpless opponent.

Arredon was already moving, spinning with speed that, while impressive, didn't match up to his mentor's. Davrag lunged back as Arredon's swords ripped into empty air. If he had been slower, Arredon's twin slash would have sliced his guts open, Davrag mused lightly.

Arredon lunged, stabbing with both swords. Davrag countered with one of the few moves available: The cross down.

His sword came down together, trapping Arredon's between them. While this move defeated the disadvantage it left both of the combatants with no clear advantage, forcing the trapped swordsbeast to step back, leaving the two even again. Arredon's eyes blazed with that same fire and suddenly whipped his blades up with startling force, breaking the parry.

Davrag was shocked for a fraction of a nanosecond before his fighter's mind grabbed on to the situation and he danced back as Arredon came on, swords moving in a dance of steel as Arredon employed the multiple strike technique, strike with one sword then pull back and then strike with another. To parry, one moved his blades in an exact mirror of his opponent's techniques. But if Arredon succeeded in driving Davrag's back against a wall, then his chance of survival were slim. He had to cut this of before Arredon forced him against a tree.

He's truly doing it! He realized with a feeling of exultation. He's doing it…he IS my pupil!

Davrag's paw suddenly twisted, locking Arredon's striking sword around his own. He was toning down his skill and reflexes quite a bit, but Arredon's measure of skill for his age was incredible.

As Arredon, caught in the momentum of the move, struck with the other sword, Davrag caught that one too and with a flick of his paws, hurled the interlocked swords from Arredon's paws.

His fist crashed into Arredon's jaw, hurling the youth to the ground. With a swift motion, Davrag tore a dagger from his belt and sprang upon Arredon, blade stabbing down upon the young stoat's chest.

He stopped…just a fraction of a second before Arredon's paw gripped his wrist, he'd stopped the stab.

For a moment they said nothing, amber eyes locking upon green, corruption gazing upon tainted innocence. "Magnificent, Arredon," Davrag finally replied.

"Thank you…Lord…" His paw slackened the grip on Davrag's paw. For the first time, Davrag realized just how powerful the boy was…his grip was like a vise when he had a reason to use it.

Davrag rose and reached down, offering a rough paw. After a moment, Arredon took it and Davrag pulled him to his feet.

"Did I do…well?"
"You did fine. Pack up our swords. We're heading back to Calishan." Davrag replied curtly.

"Yessir." Arredon proceeded to do so, replacing them in their sheaths and wrapping them in his cloak. "Back…home?"

"Yes," Davrag nodded calmly, his back already to Arredon as he made his way out of the forest.

"Sir…" Arredon walked up beside him, gaze filled with admiration. "Can I become…stronger?"
"We'll see." Davrag replied with a light shrug. Arredon's gaze flicked down to his footpaws and after a long moment, Davrag reached an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close.

So many years…

Davrag Joris and Arredon Toroth's eyes remained on one another, both lost in the whirlwind of memories and recollections of events they had been witness to, places they had been and fights they had fought.

It was many hours before either of them moved.