EDIT: Edited it! I think it sounds better now.
Kiara versus Lutie. Because really, these two are just so volatile together. And not in a good way.
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There wasn’t a reason.
...
At least one that would sense to anyone who would pass them by.
The sky was painted a brilliant azure that afternoon, dotted with scattered patches of puffy, pristine white clouds. There were no signs of grey on the horizon, which would mean fair weather for the rest of the day. The birds chirped on the tree branches, and the flowers softly swayed and bended in the breeze. Even the Porings decided to venture out further towards the walls of the city, bouncing around and chasing the Creamy hovering over the flower patches.
That was until one was accidentally stepped on and exploded into pink chunks. But the suspect paid no heed. Between jumping away from a blade and stepping on a pink blob, safety overrode guilt anytime. He breathed in steadily, keeping himself calm as a swordsman, decked in armor the color of gold stood a distance away. An ungodly huge shield was strapped to her left arm while the other wielded a Flamberge whose edges shone with a dull red color.
“Commendable.” The crusader spoke, tone as cold and passive as ever.
He eyed his opponent with a cold, calculating gaze, before he turned and fled into the nearby trees. His opponent let out an irritated noise and quickly gave chase, armor and shield glinting in the sunlight as she ran deeper into the woods, blue eyes trained on the figure in tattered monk robes before her.
A sudden glare of sunlight blinded her, forcing her to stop and blink away the spots dancing before her eyes. When her vision recovered, he was suddenly nowhere in sight. The crusader skidded to a halt, swerving her eyes to the left.
Where is he? The answer presented itself to her in a second’s notice. A flash of grey on her left, and she instantly brought her shield up, blocking a combo that would have done more than bruise her face.
She wasted no time in bringing her sword up again for a quick slash. But it met air, just as her opponent quickly shifted his footing and sent a punch towards her. She twisted her body, the barest touch of his fist grazing her chainmail. She completed the spin, bringing up a foot to collide with his chest. It caught him by surprise, but he quickly brought up his arms to defend against it.
It connected squarely with his raised arms, the force of the blow sent him skidding a few meters away but it was not enough to make him fall. They matched stares, each a level of cool intensity as they circled one another.
A soft breeze brushed past them, rustling the treetops as it came and gone. A young leaf snapped from its lofty home amongst its brothers. It danced in the air, slow and mesmerizing. The moment it touched the ground, the two combatants kicked at the dirt, lunging for each other.
They exchanged not a word in all the time they retreated and lunged for one another. Their faces betrayed no emotion, no exhaustion despite the continuous movement of their bodies.
Before the crusader had cornered him, the monk had been looking for Noire, his companion who was ever at a loss at directions. He searched Prontera, turned it inside and out three times but still hadn’t found the huntress. Then he opted to look on the outskirts of the city, at the flower fields that were naught but a stone’s throw away from the walls. Surely with her fascination with fauna he would be able to spot her idling about outside.
Not even five minutes outside of the gates, and he was met with a shield boomerang to the face. Black hair, blue eyes and a gleaming blade met his eyes the moment he recovered. And the rest... simply followed.
After retreating from the latest parry, the white-haired man suddenly let out a sigh and straightened himself up. On the other hand, the crusader remained fixed in her place, breathing in and out steadily as she cast a wary gaze on the man.
She asked, “Why did you stop?”
“I’ve wasted enough time.” The monk replied in a monotone. How long had he been fighting the darn woman? He didn’t know, but it was long enough that he was starting to get worried about Noire, not that he would ever admit that out loud. Without waiting for her reply, he turned and began to walk back to the city’s gates.
Kiara let out a growl, glaring icily at the scraggly fighter.
“Running away, Lutie? I thought your parents taught you better than that.” She spoke the words bitingly, faster than she could process them. However, it had the desired effect. The man stopped midway through putting another foot forward.
“... What did you say?” Lutie asked, his tone falling to impossibly dangerously calm levels. Many other men would have taken that as a warning and retreat from him. On the other hand, she was either foolish, or she just didn’t care about the red flags around him.
To her, Lutie was simply Lutie. A man, not a God and therefore someone she shouldn’t fear.
“What’s the matter, monk? Had I spoken a truth?” She went on, the grip on her sword tightened as she prepared herself to defend and counter. “Were you so stubborn that you broke your parents’ hearts they gave up trying to raise you correctly?” What made it so insulting was the fact that she wasn’t teasing. The crusader sounded so matter-of-factly, confident that her question would be answered with a definitive ‘yes’.
The champion remained silent, though it was the kind that was like the calm before the storm. Green eyes slowly turned to meet with blue, each reflecting their own stormy emotions.
“Don’t...” Lutie began, his tone turning hard. His fists slowly clenched and unclenched at his sides, Fury slowly building up and dancing as tiny sparks on the edges of his person.
Memories flashed before his eyes in quick, almost dizzying succession. Mother. Alive. Father. Alive. So animated with breath and life in their eyes.
Suddenly blood sprayed across his visage. When it had gone, his mother lay dead before him. His father towered over him, too far gone into madness to understand what he was about to do to his only son. In a blink of an eye, he too, joined his wife on the blood stained floor.
Lutie didn’t have the best. But he didn’t throw away the feelings and memories he had of them. So to have the crusader so carelessly assume that...
“Don’t ever insult my parents!” And he lunged for her, eyes burning brightly with the fires of sheer, cruel indignation. All the power gathered in his right fist, making it crackle with raw, fearsome energy.
She didn’t know, didn’t understand. Therefore she had no right to say anything about his parents.
“Then end this, you coward!” She yelled back, charging towards him with her shield held rigid in front of her.
Lutie’s fist glowed with raw power as he pulled it back. In a flash, he struck. Kiara raised her shield before her, blocking the attack from her. But an Asure Strike, especially one from an enraged champion, was something nearly unstoppable. The impact created a small explosion, earth shot up around them as dust covered the two combatants.
Had there been guards nearby, it would have alerted them, create a flurry of panic and unwanted trouble for them both. But even Fate was a little merciful and left them on their own for now.
As the dust cleared, Kiara fell backwards, already out cold from the damage even before she hit the grassy bed. Her dented shield fell beside her with a loud clunk. But she hadn’t been defeated outright. That would be an insult to her skills as a crusader.
If Kiara had been awake, she would have seen Lutie staggering backwards, suffering the damage her Reflect Shield had thrown back at him. A simple mistake, he hadn’t counted that it would have been that strong. But what had been done was done, and now he lay on the grassy floor at the crusader’s feet, knocked out and senseless like her.
Aside from an impending headache later on, this little skirmish would be one they could –quietly- agree to forget it ever happened.
END ENTRY.
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