“I cannot believe I am doing this.” Emmrich stood in the center of the study clutching his staff.
“You fight every day. Almost.” Rook stood opposite the mage, leaning against the desk.
“For my life!” He sighed.
“Should Rook try to kill you?” Lucanis leaned against the wall just off Rook’s right shoulder.
“Maker preserve us.” Emmrich leaned on his staff. “How does this work?”
“You’ve never dueled?” Lucanis stood straight. “Not even in the circle?”
“We used skeletons to fight.”
“Of course you did.” Rook chuckled. “Weapon of choice?”
“Staff?” Emmrich raised a single thin eyebrow.
“No, for Rook.” Lucanis sauntered to the center of the room. “You get to decide the weapons he will have at his disposal.”
“Hmmm.” Emmrich was warming up to the idea. “I need work on my melee defense.”
Rook drew a rapier off the desk top, the sharp metal tip scraping across the marble ominously.
“One.” Emmrich stopped Rook as he reached for another.
“As you wish.” He whipped the blade through the air a few times. And then tossed it tip over hilt before catching it with ease.
The swooshes brought he and Lucanis back to simpler times. Emmrich smiled, feeling the excitement the two Crows were reveling in.
“Rules, again. Please.” Emmrich twirled his staff as he waited, brow furrowed with determination.
“Fight to first blood. You must stay in this room.”
Emmrich waited for Lucanis to go on.
“Those are. The rules.” Spite finished, impatiently.
“That’s it?” Emmrich stopped his warm ups and looked to the Crows.
“Yes.” The both shrugged and smiled in unison.
“En garde.” Lucanis called out.
Rook took a spot at on end of a chalked dueling circle and saluted and bowed. Emmrich took his spot and bowed gracefully.
“A natural!” Lucanis applauded lightly.
Rook took a defensive stance and watched Emmrich as he wound his staff. With a graceful pirouette he shot a bolt of spirit energy at Rook, who scooted to his tip toes, deftly dodging the magic that hit and dissipated on the study wall. Posing magnificently.
Rook smiled and advanced, keeping Emmrich to his right. Emmrich shot a second bolt Rook rolled and swung at Emmrich’s thigh. The mage parried with his staff. Rook spun on his knees and went for the other leg, which Emmrich barely parried but immediately slammed his staff down, knocking Rook back enough to create more distance by circling around the room. As Rook regained his balance, Emmrich was winding up a more powerful spell. Rook leapt and spun in the air, narrowly missing its brunt, the sizzle of spirit magic caressing his face. He landed and swung his sword down hard, his posture perfect, as if choreographed for a ballet.
Emmrich snagged the blade with some magic and moved out from under it.
“Well done!” Lucanis clapped at Emmrich’s quick thinking.
Emmrich retaliated with a quick burst of magic. Rook blocked what he could with the hilt of his rapier and the studded armor wrapping on his left forearm. The spell pushed him back a bit, but he escaped it hitting any skin.
“Going to have to work harder than that.” Rook caught his breath as he taunted the death mage.
“This man should have been a Crow, de Riva! The charm!”
“Whose side are you on?” Rook paced forward, mirroring Emmrich’s movement around the room.
“I always root for the underdog.” He laughed.
“I beg your pardon!” Emmrich shot a quick bolt from his staff at the Demon. Who ducked to miss it, laughing.
“You are both incorrigible.” Emmrich slammed his staff down again, and pressed forth a small skeleton from thin air that swooped on Rook, who sliced through the wraith and pulled up his cape in time for the residual magic to splash on the fabric and not his skin. It ate small holes in the material like acid.
“Good thing this isn’t my nice cape!” He lunged again, low, Emmrich swooped the bottom of his staff to catch the blade, but Rook feinted and swept his left foot under the staff, pushing it further than Emmrich expected, wrenching it from his grasp. Emmrich fell off balance while Rook slid the point of his rapier to just below the skull that held his collar tight. Rook stood straight, his arm outstretched, and leaned in slightly to secure the connection.
Emmrich froze only for a second before pushing Rook back with his magic and pulling his staff into his hands, swinging aggressively at the elf. Rook blocked the staff from bludgeoning him, barely, and pushed off and away from an almost immediate bolt of magic.
Rook dropped the smirk and narrowed his eyes in renewed focus.
“Emmrich, nice!” Lucanis called at the recovery.
The mage quickly shot out five bolts in short succession at the elf as he leapt, rolled, blocked and dodged the assault. Rook ran at the wall, as Emmrich shot a beam of spirit magic at him. Across the wall a few steps, somersaulted off, behind Emmrich he slid his blade into a low hanging position to his rear and drug it across the unguarded calf of the caster as he swung for a blade that was not ahead of Rook as he expected.
Emmrich yiped and grabbed his leg. A small string of blood on Rook’s rapier announced his victory.
“Maker, Emmrich!” Rook breathed heavily, his brow glistening with the effort of it all. “You nearly got me with that last one!”
He held out his hand, red and already bruising from the decay magic, but no blood was drawn. Emmrich gasped at Rook’s poise.
“And here.” Rook felt the growing welt on his temple from the splash of one of the closer spells. It was already blistering.
“Rook! I am so sorry!” Emmrich forgot his own sliced leg and assessed Rook’s wounds.
“Good thing you acted when you did,” Lucanis stuck a finger in the splash on the back of Rook’s hand. “It. Bleeds.”
Spite smelt the blood before it finally seeped out.
“In the knick of time!” Rook called out way too boldly.
Lucanis and Emmrich groaned. Rook laughed and opened the door. Bellara and Neve were pressed against the jambs and both jumped.
“Good. Heals.” Rook bowed and invited the ladies in. “As promised, Professor.”
“Next time, we get to watch.” Neve sat on the desk and lit up her small pipe.
“Or join! I’ve never dueled before!” Bel knelt to Emmrich’s leg. “I either need to cut these pants off at the-“
Emmrich immediately began undoing his pants.
Rook and Lucanis shared a look and turned back to watch. Neve giggled at the men oogling the professor, but did not look away. His legs were lanky, but well defined. The hair was still dark. And he wore sock garters. He handed his pants to Manfred, who was looming in the door, hissing excitedly. The man was clearly comfortable no matter where he was or what he wore. That kind of confidence filled the room with charisma. Manfred set to mending the pants immediately, pulling a small sewing kit from the pack in his torso.
“He knows there is excitement, but can’t understand why. Sweet thing!” Emmrich stood and looked back over his shoulder trying to watch Bellara’s technique.
She fussed a bit until the leg looked as good as new.
“Not even a scar!” Lucanis admired. “Though, how will he remember he lost his first duel to Rook?”
“The same way you will, I suppose.” Rook elbowed Lucanis in the ribs.
“Payback is so sweet.” Lucanis growled.
“I would hope I lost!” Emmrich was still watching Bellara. “Why would we follow just anyone?”
“I look forward to the day one of us best him.”
“That was almost today. Hey! Is anyone going to tend to this? It burns!”
Bellara turned her focus. Everyone gasped as Rook’s face and hand swelled grotesquely.
“Oh, my!” Bellara clasped her hands over her mouth.
“Let me. I can call some of my work back. It aids in the healing process.”
Rook approached Emmrich. The vision in his right eye blurry with tears and the sting of the spirit magic. Rook’s own scars were faintly lit again as his immune system fought the mana burns.
“If I’d known how much this stung, I would have added my own poisons.” Rook winced as Emmrich pulled the magic from his skin.
“Next time,” Emmrich smirked, “I’ll specify that alchemy is permitted, matching the same magic wielded. Honestly, for a Crow I expected more specificity.”
“I may have underestimated you,” Rook tried not to pull away as he pulled the magic out like drawing venom from a bite. “I thought I was giving you a needed advantage.”
“And I you.” Emmrich winked. “Blocking a spell with as thin a sword as that? Insanity!”
“We learn to block or redirect them with throwing knives. And learn to take the punches. Viago taught me a great salve to break on the point of impact. I’ll be sure to bring those. Parrying magic is much more complicated than a sword.”
“I thought I was done for when you disarmed me. I never had anyone try that before. Very cunning.”
“Could you put your pants back on, though?” Rook realized how close he was to Emmrich, and no matter how he tried, his mind still wandered to places it shouldn’t.
Emmrich leaned in, soaking up Rook’s fluster. “All in good time.” He whispered.
Rook blushed, but no one could tell over the swelling that was calming. Emmrich held Rook’s hand and gently pulled out the magic. There was such a vast chasm between Emmrich’s offensive spells and his healing spells. Rook had never experienced such talented mages before this group. They were as much an artist with their craft as he was with a blade or bow. He could feel Emmrich’s care and precision in the spell. As the magic left his hand, it looked like thousands of tiny wisps floating from the skin and dissipating into the Fade-filled air.
