Parry.
Block. Repulse. Step and thrust. Retract.
Thirty-two.
On my left. Duck low. Rise. Recenter. One. Two.
Thirty-three.
Four more just twenty feet away, each of them has one of those basic spell books from the elven kingdom. Bastards probably stole them. I'll give them a taste of what real spell casting is.
Flare's thoughts focus on nothing but the battle in front of her, her movements carry the steady rhythm of a lifetime's worth of practice and instruction. Soul Quill has served her well so far, and continues to flourish smoothly under her command. The rapier of elven make is light, and as exquisite as it is deadly. A perfect weapon for the half-elven mage warrior. Conducting elemental conjurations alongside martial precision has quickly become second nature for Flare. While she knows the danger she stands in, her own self-assurance in her victory is almost palpable.
O' indigo purity that sustains life, erupt from the earth and reach for the very heavens!
Flare's inner incantation helps fuel and strengthen the magic that comes from both her natural mana, and the lessons that a man she admires helped to teach her. Her spell seeds the ground below her grouped foes, fabricating the shapeless element that nourishes the earth. A pulse from her will causes the spell to erupt, unleashing a geyser of water underneath the unsuspecting elven pirates. Their bodies ragdoll through the air under the harsh slaps of the cresting water.
As the magical fountain subsides and the men and women it carried fall to the ground with pained groans, a woman struts along the sandy street, clapping her hands in mock praise. "Bravo, bravo." An elven woman, clad in the attire that marked her station; an expertly tailored white blouse, a black corset with golden laces and trimmings, and white britches stripped with black and gold. She lets her arms drop to her sides, the sleeves of her captain's jacket drape more closely around the front of her figure, their vibrant shoulder tassels sway back and forth with her movement. Her light brown eyes study Flare with great intrigue and her plush lips curl upward as she brushes a lock of her ivory hair away from her face.
Flare's own eyes don't leave the woman's, but she remains intensely aware of her surroundings.
Posh attitude? Black tattoos that look like…ancient elvish? On her left cheek, forehead, and even her neck? Those earrings she wears look pretty old too…and her hat…no doubt about it. As if the flower arrangement wasn't a dead giveaway…
"That was quite the little display." The elf captain continues to patronize. "I admit, I've always been a tad curious to meet a real live half-elf in person. Funny. I always thought they would have one normal ear and the other would be round like those from the weaker half of their gene pool."
"Funny. I thought an elf would have more respect for her culture than to go around ransacking ruins and stealing artifacts from their own people." Flare spits. "Marine told me all about what your poor excuse for a crew gets up to, Captain Lorilia."
"And what would a mongrel, someone who can carry only the worst of both races, know about respecting her culture and people? Someone with neither truly of her own." Lorilia fires back. Flare says nothing, trying to focus her thoughts only on how her instigator might attack, but her composure betrays her, and the Sunflower Captain smirks.
"Tell me, halfie, where are your parents from? What lands bore the trees that you fell out of?" Lorilia takes slow steps forward, her sharp eyes glued to the tip of Flare's rapier pointed in her direction. "Was your daddy a human that your frumpy elf mother took pity on? Or was he one of my own that was so pathetic that he could only plow some human whore in a barn? Oh! Or maybe…" The captain's face contorts to pure malevolence. "You're the product of something a little less…consensual?"
That was enough to set Flare off and make her charge headlong into battle, eager to slice out of the tongue of her harasser. She thrusts Soul Quill forward, only for her reckless strike to meet nothing but air when the Sunflower Captain weaves to the side. Instead of launching a punishing counterattack, the elven pirate's eyes fixate on the weapon Flare carries. The half-elf then plants her foot and pivots, making a desperate slash for Lorilia's chest. Soul Quill's edge is stopped cold by a gleaming short sword the elf now holds up in her defense; the rapier's point just an inch from her nose.
Lorilia's eyes flash with focus, and the bright silver handle of her blade that is encrusted with three topaz stones glows with mana. The magical energies climb up her steel, and let loose a firm pulse that buckles Flare out of their clash. Flare stumbles backwards, her body fights to keep her balance as well as her grip over her weapon. Lorilia cuts once into the air, sending a thick crescent of white mana at Flare. The half-elf stumbles to evade, avoiding taking the magical slash head on, but her right shoulder takes the brunt of it. She hisses and immediately clutches her fresh wound that trickles with blood.
"It appears I struck a nerve." Lorilia taunts, twirling her blade next to her face. "No matter, I'm now less interested in how your muddled blood came to be, and more interested in that sword you hold. It's definitely an elven piece. Quite old too, despite how well it performs. I think once I deal with you, I'll add it to my collection. Then the supposed human with a spell book that casts starlight magic is next. I'm particularly interested in that one."
"I won't let you anywhere near Anon." Flare's huffs, fighting through the pain in her shoulder and taking a battle stance. She tries to steady her breathing, her bubbling rage threatens to take control of her. Letting her emotion fuel her mana, a small hiss builds higher and higher as the life of fire crackles over her palm. Flare runs forward, she throws the fireball she conjured at her target.
The Sunflower Captain stabs the orb of fire, popping it like a balloon and sending its embers coasting behind her. Flare appears in her sights when the curtain of orange flames dance away, the half-elf makes a stab that flies like lightning. Soul Quill's point soars and finds its way to Lorilia's navel. The second sharpened steel begins to pierce through her corset, the elven captain jerks to the side, causing Flare's blade to sow along her body, ripping through expensive fabric and then skin.
Flare quickly retracts her rapier and extends her opposite arm to let loose the blast of wind she had stored within her palm, knocking her foe off the ground. The half-elf does not relent, as soon as Lorilia lands; her feet stumbling backward, Flare meets her with a flurry of stabs. Metal clanging plays the foreground of exerted breaths as both women try to gain an advantage over the other. The clash becomes a game of give and take, Flare forgoes a perfect defense in order to score another swipe that cuts the pirate's cheek, while the half-elf is rewarded with a short slash that grazes her arm.
Flare's amber eyes then widen as she witnesses the glow of magic surround Lorilia's blade once more. Not willing to succumb to the same trick twice, Flare funnels her golden mana into Soul Quill; its sleek length radiates against the steel of the opposing blade. The Sunflower Captain does not back down, she channels her own mana to its tipping point and commands her sword to let it erupt. Flare does the same, a wave of golden light emerges from her rapier and completely washes over the pulse of pale red light that emits from Lorilia's own weapon.
"What the-" The Sunflower Captain mutters before the golden force knocks her backwards, retching her sword from her grip. She hits the sandy street with a loud groan, and pushes herself up and wipes some of the blood off her cheek.
Flare's body heaves with labored breath. She gives her various cuts a once over, and then looks back to her opponent who slouches from the weight of their skirmish.
"Golden mana, huh?" Lorilia scoffs. "Unlucky for you that you're only ever going to be capable of half that magical potential. If it weren't for the human-"
"Shut your mouth!" Flare snaps, her magic ignites again and a bullet of fire launches from her extended blade, zipping past the Sunflower Captain and leaving a lock of hair that it travels through completely singed and smoking. The half-elf's entire body quakes with rage. "You don't know a damn thing about my parents!"
"I know that at least one of them has to be a special kind of cruel." Lorilia sneers as she begins to subtly move one of her hands to the satchel that is strung along her hip. "That or extremely ignorant. Think about it. What elf in their right mind would want to give birth to something like you? A sick one, that's who. Somebody that makes us pirates look like saints."
"Don't you dare insult my mother." Flare growls, barely keeping herself from lunging forward and trying to strangle the woman's neck. "She would have burnt you to ashes by now."
"So your mom is the elf, and a mage at that? You must be from just across the sea to the west then. Interesting." Lorilia continues to press the buttons she discovers while her hand, unbeknownst to Flare, continues to dig. "So tell me, what are you doing all the way over here playing the hero with some troupe of misfits instead of being at home with mommy and daddy? Hmmm?"
Flare does not speak a single word, for she knows that the truth would not dissuade this loathsome pirate. However, Flare cannot keep her expression from portraying the loss she feels for her deceased parents. Lorilia's face lights up, having either found the crack in Flare's composure, or what she had been searching for within the confines of her satchel, or perhaps both.
"Oh now that is just plain evil." The Sunflower Captain clicks. "Both your parents? Even the human one? Dead? You poor thing. They left you. A born reject of two societies to fend for herself."
"That's not true!" Flare retorts, her own mind betraying her and forcing her to defend her birth parents. "They loved me. They gave their lives to make sure I ended up somewhere safe…they wanted me to exist."
"Like I said, they were heartless. You probably suffered a lifetime of being an outcast. Unloved. Always seen as different no matter which kingdom you were in. All so you could end up here, to be burned alive." Lorilia grins as she pulls out what might seem to be a simple wooden broomstick from her evidently magical pouch. She twirls it and points the bristled end at Flare, and with the smallest pull from her own mana, flames burst out from it.
Flare's heightened emotions nearly paralyze her when she watches the rush of fire rush toward her. A desperate plea from her mana grants her a spell to create a rising wall of water to fight against the heat of flame. She guards her face when the two elements clash and become a thick mist in the air. Flare curses herself for being so careless, and vows to pay elf back in spades for it. No one would use her parents against her like that and get away with it. She hops to the side, ready to bypass the veil of steam that clouds the air. Then, a separate sense that screams to her that she is in danger, makes her jerk her head to look to one of her flanks.
The same broom that just spewed fire, now floats in the air above the half-elf, angled to try and scorch her once again. With no time to think, Flare dives, the breath of flame just brushing against the backs of her legs. The heat is intense, her skin throbs with each beat of her racing heart. Again her internal alarm bells ring, and her head turns to where Lorilia was originally standing. The Sunflower Pirates Captain still holds her magical instrument, and Flare's eyes widen as she observes four exact copies floating around her.
"This beauty is one of my favorites. She not only has the firepower to melt icebergs if I wanted, but she can replicate herself." Lorilia chuckles, and with a mere thought, the flying broomsticks fan out to encircle Flare.
Five brooms all pour searing hot flames from their ends, creating a vortex around the half-elf. On reflex, she pushes her magic to the surface, and a curtain of water cascades around her. The firestorm begins to close around Flare, and she can feel its immense heat even through her liquid shroud, still, she presses on, making her spell even wider and stronger to where it presses against the blaze.
"I wonder how long your mana will last." Lorilia calls from just outside the fiery torrent. "You can just make it easy for yourself and give up. I'll make it a quick death for you. It'll spare a mayfly baby like you a lot of suffering down the road."
"And what's that supposed to mean!?" Flare grunts, not wanting to give the captain's venomous words any recognition, but she needs something to distract her from the air growing heavier by the second and the heat growing ever higher.
"Think about it, since you are indeed part elf, you'll outlive any human you ever meet. If your daddy wasn't already dead, you'd have to watch him die. The human boy you are so adamant about protecting from me, you would have to watch him die too someday. How does that feel? Knowing that you would outlive your lover?"
That thought had never actually occurred to Flare before now. She and Anon were indeed different in that regard. She would, circumstances permitting, have a long natural life, while he would live for merely a fraction of that. Not just Anon either, Noel, her father, Nene, maybe even Polka and Watame, they would all grow older and have death come for them long before it comes for her. Was it really worth the pain that is sure to come some day? Did her parents even consider this?
The water around Flare begins to wane, the swirling fire eating the azure barrier and not even letting off a puff of steam. She kneels to the ground, holding a hand to her forehead that begins to sweat profusely. Was it really all worth it? She could try to fight, to escape this tornado of hellfire and reunite with Anon and her friends, but someday, even if it's a really long time from now, she would have to watch them leave. Flare grips her head harder, her thoughts thrown to the retelling of her parents in their last moments and their decisions that led to that very day. The half-elf's face is shocked by an epiphany.
My parents…that's right. My mom chose my dad, a human. She knew what it meant to be with him, to have me, to try and be a family. She gave everything she had for me, so I could live a happy life, not just as a half-elf, but as her daughter. They wanted me to live. They sacrificed everything for me. Ever since our journey in the elven kingdom, I decided I would honor their legacy by living my life to the fullest. This life I found, because of a silly guy and sheep who showed up at my doorstep trying to find their own origins, I owe it to my parents to not miss a single second of it!
"You might be right about one thing." Flare says with newfound resolve. "I might end up living longer than Anon and some of my friends, but you wanna know something?! Even if I have to be left behind someday, I won't let that stop me from walking alongside them. The more that might hurt me in the end, it'll be just that much more proof that we mattered to one another. I'm going to keep making memories with them all, enough to keep me warm for as long as I live."
Flare's mana begins to reflect her convictions, rising and strengthening her own magic. She lets its golden glow spread around her arms, legs, and her torso. There is a way for her to survive and overcome the spiraling inferno she is trapped within, but she needs to dig deeper, she needs to spread her mana coat even further. Flare closes her eyes, clenches her fists and teeth, and focuses on the bright image of someone that she can never allow herself to be complacent for. That young man continues to keep making strides forward, forcing her to raise her own ceiling even higher. She has to break through the roof that houses her own limits.
Straining against herself and time, the golden outline of magic creeps over Flare's entire figure. With one last strenuous push, she demolishes her own internal barriers, and her entire being is covered from head to toe in radiant golden mana. Flare breathes, making sure to remember the feeling. There is still one more thing she needs to do to ensure her survival and give her a chance at grasping victory.
The fiery walls around her begin to close in, making the air thin and the half-elf feels like she will be cooked if this goes on for even a second longer. She uses the sensations around her; the heat, the sounds of the fire crackling and fuming, and begins forming her mana to match that of the raging element that hungers for destruction. Flare also brings her own internal recognition of what fire is to her to the forefront of her heart. To her, it is a force that has become more natural in her hands every time she uses it. Fire is a source of warmth, but can also be a source of ruinous power and calamity. Fire is also an element that came naturally to her mother. A mage who was considered a genius and could create feats with the scorching element on a whim that would make her colleagues green with envy.
Flare's mana begins to shift, a wave of red rolls over her body, changing the golden coat to a crimson hue. A sudden drop in temperature causes her to open her eyes. All around her the fire swirls, but it longer threatens to oppress her. She stares into the wall of the vortex and gathers her resolve. It's time to end this.
With Soul Quill held firm, Flare steps forward, still somewhat hesitant to what she is about to do. She forces herself to step once more, the toe of her shoe and the point of her nose just an inch away from the raging hellfire. The half-elf breathes deeply, and forces herself to step through the fire. The physical force of the pyro tornado's movement hits her unexpectedly hard, causing her to stumble, her stomach drops at the idea that she might have just walked into her own death. Then, when all she feels through the veil of her mana is a heat that is no worse than the beating sun of the desert, relief washes over her. With the certainty that she had overcome searing flame igniting her fighting spirit, Flare struts onward.
On the other side of the orange curtain, Lorilia stares dumfounded at the half-elf who had just emerged, her body not even scorched. Flare raises her arm, bringing Soul Quill's edge up to her face, its steel starts to glow a subtle blue. She charges, poised to run the Sunflower Pirate Captain through, but while the elf was caught off guard by Flare's sudden emergence, she will not concede, not while she has a powerful relic still at her command. Lorilia points the tail end of the broom in her hands right at Flare and lets a surge of flame spew onward. Flare does not falter, she pours more magic into her rapier, its blue light now forming a visible cone that parts and pierces through the pyre stream.
Breaching her enemy's offensive, Flare makes a quick stab for the arm that holds the magical artifact. A sting from Soul Quill against her bicep pricks a hole within the captain's clothes and then her flesh, and the blood it draws begins to stain the cloth red. In addition to the streak of crimson along the captain's arm, there is also a curious blue light lingering over the opening. Flare notices the strange appearance of mana that sticks to her opponent's body, but does not let it distract from her battle plan. She makes another pointed thrust, this time aimed at Lorilia's upper chest. Unable to stop the half-elf's momentum, the Sunflower Captain receives another opening on her person, she clutches the spot with her free hand, and her eyes narrow with fury.
Flare motions again for a third strike, which forces the elven captain to retaliate before she is hit again, a move Flare had been hoping for. The bristles of Lorilia's broomstick enter Flare's vision, she bobs slightly backward, and with martial precision, she brings Soul Quill's edge upward in a strike that reaches for the sky above. The rapier makes a clean slice at the base of the broom, severing its head from its shaft and rendering it useless.
The pirate gasps and curses herself for her own mistake, and her eyes immediately run to the replica brooms that float in the air. Each of the magical poles lose their heads and vanish into magical vapors by one. Lorilia looks down at the broken original and throws it to the ground in frustration. Flare lets out a deep sigh, as if she were holding her breath since she began her counterattack, and the thick crimson outline around her body fades. At the half-elf's feet lies the gemmed shortsword that belonged to the pirate captain. She plants a foot on its handle and slides the blade to her opponent.
"Go ahead." Flare nods her head while pointing her rapier at the elf. "Pick it up."
"You cocky little donkey." Lorilia growls, but squats down slowly to retrieve her weapon, not taking her eyes off Flare. "What? You think just because you managed to not get burnt alive that you're invincible? A mana coat like that doesn't come cheap. When we cross blades again, you're done. You've reached the tap of the magical potential your elven side gives you. Now you're just dead weight thanks to your human half."
"Wrong. My human half helps make me who I am. I am Flare Shiranui, a half-elf raised in the kingdom of Rosso by General Hiro Shiranui. I am the living proof of Naname Feur's and Tou Vermillion's love." Flare declares proudly. "My friends, the places I've been, the challenges we faced together, they are all part of who I am, and who I'll become. Now if you think you can measure up to all that, en garde!"
"I've had it with your snarky mouth, you disgusting hybrid!" Lorilia shrieks, charging forward with her sword aimed to run Flare through.
Flare deflects the captain's stab, who immediately tries to follow through with a swift slash at face level. The half-elf brings her sword vertical, halting the opposing blade. An elegant deflection ends their clash and creates an opening for Flare to land a sleek slash down Lorilia's stomach, cutting several of the strings that tighten her corset around her body. Now three spots of blue now shine like stars on the Sunflower Captain's body. A dim hum that reaches Flare's ears from seemingly nowhere enkindles a powerful idea.
Keeping the mana of water steady upon Soul Quill's tip, Flare makes another thrust, aiming for a precise point on Lorilia's body. The second Flare's steel touches the frilly ascot the captain wears, she retracts her rapier, leaving before a parrying swing can catch it. Noticing the flash of confusion in Lorilia's expression, Flare starts to up the pressure, stepping forward and forcing the captain's reactionary blade to one side. Every opening Flare creates, she delivers a stab that only barely cuts through the fabric of her enemy's clothes.
Eight. Flare counts as she weaves out of the way of a slash meant for her face, her eyes glued to Soul Quill's next destination.
Nine.
Ten.
"Are you trying to fight me?! Or just mess up my clothes!?" Lorilia barks as she makes a clumsy swing with her sword that catches the middle of Flare's. "You think you're too good to try and take my life!? I'll throw myself to the bottom of the sea before some mistake of nature patronizes Captain Lorilia of the Sunflower Pirates!"
Flare's free hand shoots forward and grips Lorilia's wrist. With great struggle, she pries the woman's sword arm away, ending their clash of steel. Flare then lifts her leg and delivers a harsh kick to the pirate's midsection, sending her back. The half-elf darts forward with her blade at the ready, and she thrusts twice.
And that's twelve.
Lorilia grunts in frustration, and begins to move to engage Flare again, but the pulsing specks of blue mana along her body make her reconsider her actions.
"What the fuck is this?" She tries to brush them off, but her hands pass right through the magical light.
"Here, let me make it more clear, I think you'll recognize it in a second." Flare says, and from the first point along the captain's left shoulder, she uses Soul Quill to trace a line of mana that connects the dots. The image of Aquarius shines when the drawn constellation on the pirate's body is complete, and the sound of water building can be heard.
Water spirals around the length of Flare's rapier seemingly without her full instruction or focus, glowing in rhythm of the star sign etched by its point. Lorilia's jaw drops when she sees a pool of water begin to churn underneath her feet, and then she looks at the shining blade in front of her in humbled appreciation.
"I knew I recognized that sword…it's Soul Quill, the blade of the spell scribe. Where did-" The captain utters, but before she could finish her question, Flare puts her spell into action. She has had enough of this woman's questions.
The water underneath Lorilia erupts, sending the elf captain hurling upward. Flare cocks her sword arm back and digs in her heels, and when her helpless captain almost reaches the ground, she takes a firm step forward. A giant drilling outpour of water surges from Flare's rapier, completely enveloping Lorilia and carrying her all the way into the wall of one of the empty storefronts that line the streets.
Wood and glass shatter under the pressure of Flare's torrential creation. She jabs Soul Quill forward one more time, sending a fresh pulse that can be seen traveling down to the mouth of the stream that pelts the Sunflower captain into the wall of the building. A final splash overflows the shop from within; water drips from the windowsills and the closed front door before the Sunflower Captain; silent and unconscious, drifts out from the hole her body helped create.
As the water seeps into the sand, the captain's signature hat comes floating down from the sky. Flare skewers right through its ornamental sunflower. After removing the bicorn from her weapon, she places it upon her head in triumph. She then looks down at her trusted blade, as if truly understanding it for the first time. Flare lets out a small giggle at her own fondness and apparent bond with an inanimate object.
Sure of her victory, Flare leaves the Sunflower Captain to sleep, but not before relieving her of the magical satchel she wears that likely holds more artifacts that she acquired. For good measure she finds some nearby twine within the flooded building and uses it to bind Lorilia's wrists and ankles.
Flare then walks away, heading towards the shore where she knows her friends all continue to fight Blackfin's fleet. Although her muscles and body ache, the half-elf moves with a renewed purpose that makes her feel stronger than ever.
That's thirty-eight pirates for me, and one crew down. I can't slow down. I'm on my way. Anon.