FFXIVwrite: 20. duel
"Have you a moment?" Estinien asked. With sand on his boots and seabreeze at his back, the lone dragoon inclined his head at Fereniel. "It's been a while."
Fereniel huffed, stride matching Estinien's. They wandered Tuliyollal as lit by lantern-flame, weaving through the late-night crowd. The colorful stalls and vibrant atmosphere reminded Fereniel much of Radz-at-Han. Walking with Estinien, his lance-point high above his head drawing curious looks as Fereniel went unnoticed, brought them back to that time.
Eyes traced the path as Estinien led Fereniel out of the city proper. The trees rustled in night, amphibians croaking in chorus. Fereniel cracked their knuckles when they heard Estinien draw his spear. "So that's how this is?"
"Aye," said Estinien, and lunged.
After that, there was little room for talk. Since walking into Gulool Ja Ja's throneroom and seeing Estinien go toe-to-toe with the old king, Fereniel wanted to go against the dragoon. No holds barred, only pulling their punches for crippling injuries. In Eorzea, the ruckus of that kind of duel would spread like wildfire, inviting questions neither Fereniel or Estinien cared to answer.
No one knows their names in Tural - not the true weight of them at least.
Refreshing, and with Gulool Ja Ja helpfully playing barometer to their relative levels of strength, Fereniel felt only excitement at seeing where this went.
Though, Fereniel thought, the issue is who catches who first. Both of them were built for speed, looking for the momentary weakness in the other's form. Fereniel couldn't reach Estinien mid-jump and the distance was not so easily crossed. Estinien, on the other hand, was served best by not getting close where Fereniel could slam blindingly fast blows at him.
It was Estinien who slipped first. Not reckless - but the way a dragoon fought was all in risking an ilm to take a malm. His eyes narrowed, seeking to push his momentary offensive.
Fereniel stepped into the barrage. They swept their leg out as Estinien move to extend his, locking behind his knee and dragging him. Inside his guard, Fereniel brought arm and elbow to bear, slamming into Estinien's chest. They toppled, Fereniel's forearm on Estinien's neck.
"Yield," he rasped, coughing quietly.
"Accepted," Fereniel responded. They pulled him onto his feet, ignoring the lacerations all over their body. Armorless as any monk would be, Fereniel began to reget it. Ordinarly, Fereniel was quick enough to dodge. Estinien was another beast entirely.
Estinien leaned on them. He tenderly slung an arm over his smarting ribs. "I suppose you're one up."
"Who says this happens again?" Fereniel scoffed.