Duel A Dance Among Friends

[Vulpesen]

It had started with a friendly visit. A couple glasses of wine and some reminiscence. Business talk as well as friendly discourse. Then the question was asked, "When was the last time you and I sparred?" Vulpesen and Ra'a'mah had been allies and more for decades. He trusted her with his life and he had saved hers on more than one occasion. It was inconceivable that in all that time that they had never pitted their skills against each other.. and yet. What followed was a flurry of movement to and in the armory. Vulpesen was suited in his usual loadout for the battlefield. His guest was furnished with whatever she needed as well as anything she had happened to bring. Then, it was down to the palatial garden where a wide sparring ring had been erected to replace the previous one which had been wrecked by a trial with a certain cathar elementalist.

Vulpepsen stood calmly on one side, his saber hanging unignited on his hip while his tail lashed out to betray the anticipation he felt for what was about to happen. How had he never fought with Ra? Among the Zorrens it was one of the first things someone did with someone they had an interest in, and considering the intimacy they had once shared, he had most certainly had an interest in her. What's more, they had shared battlefields at each other's side, another reason to meet in the ring. In short, today was long overdue for a myriad of reasons.

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah stood opposite him for a quiet moment, her gaze resting on the familiar figure across the ring while the sounds of the gardens settled around them. A smile, small but unmistakably genuine, found its way onto her face as she folded her hands loosely before her.

"You know," she said, almost more to herself than to him, "we've fought beside one another for decades."

Her eyes drifted briefly toward the ring beneath their feet before returning to Vulpesen.

"We've planned campaigns together, escaped more disasters than I care to count, saved each other's lives often enough that I've lost track..." A soft laugh escaped her. "And somehow we never stopped long enough to discover what the other actually fought like."

The realization was amusing in hindsight. Two veterans who knew each other's judgment, temperament, and resolve almost instinctively, yet neither had ever stood opposite the other with a weapon in hand.

Her fingers settled around the hilt of the golden saber at her hip, drawing it free in one smooth motion before resting its weight comfortably across both palms. She made no move to ignite it.

"I suppose there was never much reason to."

The statement carried no regret. If anything, it was gratitude. Every battle they had shared had been fought shoulder to shoulder rather than face to face.

She inclined her head ever so slightly.

"So..." The corner of her mouth lifted. "Do we pretend we're strangers for the next few minutes, or do we acknowledge that you already know half my habits and I know at least as many of yours?"

There was warmth behind the question, the easy familiarity reserved for someone who had earned her trust long ago.

"I should warn you," she added with quiet amusement, "I've had a very long time to observe your footwork."

With that, she thumbed the activator.

The golden staff sprang to life with its familiar snap-hiss, casting warm light across the polished stones of the sparring circle. Rather than taking an aggressive stance, she settled into a relaxed Jar'Kai-ready posture despite holding only the staff for the moment, balanced lightly on the balls of her feet with the unmistakable ease of someone who viewed combat less as violence and more as conversation.

"Whenever you're ready, old friend."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"I feel like to be strangers would be to take it easy on each other. I don't think either of us would care for that injustice." His eyes were bright, not just in their golden hue, but in the pleasure of a good match to come. They met here's with joyous expectation while he gathered the force to himself. It built somewhere deep in his core, a churning whirlpool that readied itself to roar like a raging river. Outwardly, winds began to whip around him as a cyclone of air. "If you'll offer me the first strike, then I regret to say you'll have some difficulty from over there." Their last time at each other's side had been a friendly match against the Diarchs. At the time, he'd swung his saber as a challenge to himself. Now, he intended to fight in a way that was true to himself.

While the winds swirled around him, picking up grass and leaves, Vulpesen's hands rose to add lightning to the growing storm. The golden forks of electricity that launched at Ra'a'mah were an introductory probe of her skills, a test to see how she reacted to the first long range attack. His saber stayed where it was, the weapon being a last resort in life or death situations or a tool against blasters and other such attacks. His feet shifted as he fell into the stance of a fighter. Similarly light on his feet, Vulpesen was the sort to work in concert with the force, letting it strike for him while his feet carried him to safety to act as its conduit.

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah's smile lingered as the air around Vulpesen came alive. The growing cyclone stirred the gardens into motion, grass bending beneath the gathering winds while leaves spiraled upward into the forming current. She had stood beside him often enough to recognize the signs long before the first bolt ever left his hands.

"So we're beginning there."

There was no disappointment in the observation. If anything, it carried quiet approval. This was Vulpesen fighting as Vulpesen always had, allowing the Force to become as much a participant in the duel as either of them.

The first arcs of lightning sprang toward her.

Ra did not move.

She remained exactly where she stood, her golden saber humming quietly before her as one hand lifted away from the weapon. Rather than meeting the attack with a barrier or attempting to evade it, she simply opened her palm toward the oncoming current. The electricity struck her hand with a violent crack that echoed across the sparring grounds, dancing wildly over her fingers and forearm before its fury began to diminish. The brilliant forks fragmented into thinner strands, each one bleeding harmlessly away as Tutaminis absorbed and dispersed the energy until nothing remained but a few fading sparks that drifted harmlessly to the stones beneath her feet.

She flexed her fingers once, as though shaking away the lingering warmth, before lowering her hand again.

"I've spent far too many years around Sith," she said with quiet amusement. "If I hadn't learned how to deal with lightning by now, I would've deserved every scar."

Only then did she move.

Not with a charge, nor with any great display of speed, but with the measured steps of someone closing distance one careful stride at a time. Her saber remained in its double-bladed configuration, held low and relaxed rather than threatening, while her eyes never left Vulpesen. She wasn't looking at the storm surrounding him anymore. She was watching the man at its center, studying his footing, the rhythm of his breathing, and the subtle shifts in weight that preceded movement.

"I've watched you fight beside me for years," she said as she continued her deliberate approach. "Now I finally have the opportunity to see whether you were always this dramatic... or whether you're simply putting on a show because you have an audience."

The corner of her mouth lifted into a familiar smile.

"I rather hope it's the former."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"Had to try it," Vulpesen's voice was infused with a laugh as he watched her walk forward. Bold and brazen as he had ever known her, he admired the steady pace in her advacne, even as his arms began to swirl about, taking advantage of measured walk. "As for a show or effect, a bit of collumn A," he spoke while his abilities carved out spheres of earth from the ground, separating dirt and rock from the terrain. Once carved, the spheres lifted up and compacted, crushing into dense cannon balls of earth, "little bit of column B." Three spheres in total and Vulpesen pushed his hands forward.

He kept it light to a degree, in that the makeshift shot didn't boom in the air by breaking a sound barrier. Rather, two massive stones with half a meter diameter hurled forward with a whoosh of air, sailing towards Ra by the flanks. Even a near miss could be inconvenient as they were bound to burst the ground up in a rain of rocky debris and shrapnel. It was one of those tricks that was born from decades of warfare, but had never quiet found a time to be used on a battlefield. A wonderful little trick that he was happy to show his companion, even as another sphere, a bit larger than the previous two hovered ominously beside him.

Ra'a'mah

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah's smile widened as the spheres of earth rose from the garden, her eyes following the practiced motions of Vulpesen's hands. She had watched him command the Force on battlefields where entire armies depended upon his strength, yet there was something undeniably enjoyable about seeing those same abilities employed simply because two old friends had finally decided to test one another.

"I've always suspected you enjoyed making an entrance."

She never slowed her advance.

The first stone came for her left flank. Rather than meeting it head-on, she planted one foot, twisted at the waist, and sprang sideways. The Force gathered beneath her like an unseen hand, carrying her into a fluid vault that would have been impossible through athleticism alone. One foot brushed the top of the hurtling boulder for the briefest instant before she pushed away again, using its own momentum to redirect herself through the air.

The second projectile followed almost immediately.

This time her hand rose.

Not with brute strength, but with the fine control born of decades refining telekinesis. Her fingers closed ever so slightly, and the massive sphere shifted only a fraction. It was all that was required. Instead of intersecting her path, it sailed harmlessly past her shoulder, close enough for the displaced wind to stir loose strands of her hair before crashing into the far side of the ring in an eruption of earth and shattered stone.

She landed lightly, her golden saber spinning once around her body before settling into a low guard. Her eyes lingered on the larger sphere still hovering patiently beside him.

"No..." she mused, the corner of her mouth lifting. "That one's being saved."

For the briefest heartbeat, her presence slipped sideways within the Force. She didn't vanish completely, but became difficult to follow, her outline softening against the gardens as her signature faded just enough to disrupt instinct before returning again.

Then she exploded into motion.

The Force carried her across the remaining ground with startling speed. One foot struck the trunk of a nearby tree before she launched herself into a twisting arc, landing atop a weathered stone bordering the ring for only a fraction of a second before driving forward again. Every movement flowed into the next with practiced efficiency, less like a duelist charging an opponent and more like someone navigating terrain she had already mapped in her mind.

"I've learned," she called as she closed the distance, "that when a friend keeps one card hidden..."

Her staff swept into a brilliant golden arc, the lower blade slicing cleanly toward the hovering sphere beside Vulpesen, intending to remove his prepared projectile before it could ever be thrown. The momentum carried the upper blade around in the same smooth rotation, stopping a respectful few inches from his shoulder before she withdrew it just as quickly.

"...the quickest way to deal with artillery," she finished with a grin, settling back into guard only a step away, "...is to stand close enough that it becomes inconvenient to use."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Controlled and efficient. It was a beautiful sight and Vulpesen had to remind himself not to marvel as Ra came towards him. Thankfully, such because easier as her form shimmered and faded from his sight. A trick of the force that they shared, though one he didn't expect her to employ. The refined woman became a blur as she advanced on him and he quickly sprang back in response. Giving himself some room, Vulpesen had a clear view of his boulder being dashed apart by her blade, the halves falling from the air under Ra's assault.

"Not a bad idea," he called from his new position. From behind the dark haired zorren, a whir heralded a pair of large black wings. With a single flap, he took to the air, his fingers launching out in a splayed position. "What about a gunners nest?" The stone she had cleaved apart dismantled itself. Not in the way of an explosion, but piece by piece, small stones breaking from the larger piece to launch through the air from a central point with the speed of a blaster bolt.

Ra'a'mah

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah had just begun to shift her footing when the unmistakable sound of unfurling wings reached her ears.

She looked up just in time to see Vulpesen lift clear of the ground, black wings carrying him effortlessly into the air.

A laugh escaped her before she could stop it.

"He flies now?" she called after him, genuine amusement coloring her voice. She shook her head once. "I'm going to have to learn that."

The humor lasted only a heartbeat.

The shattered boulder suddenly came apart, not into falling rubble, but into a storm of stone. Ra's eyes narrowed immediately as she recognized the change in intent. It was no longer a projectile to evade. It was an area denial attack.

Her staff became a wheel of golden light.

Both blades spun with practiced precision, intercepting the first wave of fragments. Stone shattered against plasma in rapid succession, glowing shards scattering harmlessly across the garden as her feet continued moving. At the same time, her free hand swept outward, telekinesis nudging an entire cluster just enough that they hissed past her shoulder instead of through it.

Most. Not all.

Two fragments slipped through the defense. One clipped her upper arm with enough force to sting through the fabric, while another struck her thigh with a solid thud that would undoubtedly leave a bruise by morning.

She winced, more from surprise than pain, before rolling through the remaining momentum into another low stance, the spinning staff slowing until it settled once more into a ready guard.

Her eyes lifted toward Vulpesen overhead.

"That's..." she admitted, rubbing her bruised arm with a grin that refused to disappear, "...actually rather clever."

As she spoke, the fingers of her free hand flexed almost imperceptibly.

Around the sparring ring, unnoticed amidst the debris still settling back to earth, several fist-sized fragments from the shattered boulder failed to come to rest. Instead, they hovered only a few centimeters above the grass behind Vulpesen, held perfectly still by the lightest touch of telekinesis. She hadn't gathered them in haste. She had simply never let them fall.

"Waste is unattractive," she said with quiet amusement.

Her fingers closed.

The stones sprang forward from behind him in a staggered pattern, not all at once but in measured succession, each arriving from a slightly different angle. None were intended to injure. Every one of them was designed to force a choice.

Defend against the woman before him. Or the battlefield she had quietly turned against him.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's tail lashed in satisfaction as he saw the hits he scored. It was always a pleasure to see a new tactic prove fruitful. Even more so when it was praised by the opponent. "The other Archons have been quite invested in my education," he replied. His ears twitched back as he felt the currents of the force twisting behind him. He had only a fraction of a moment to react as his attack rebounded from behind and he used it to leap into the air, his body twisting to avoid the majority of the disposed shrapnel. He twisted and wand warped himself in the air, dodging the first pair before a third smacked loudly against his thigh.

It wasn't a storm of stone like he was used to producing, but it was enough that he couldn't avoid each one, at least, not in his current size. Thankfully, the education he had mentioned provided him with a response to the situation. A zorren was too large a target. So, he'd become something smaller. The wind whirled and his body shone before he shrunk down, black armor turning into verdant green and sapphire blue. His Ravenwing pack, the device he had just used to take flight, fell to the ground. As a terylax, Vulpesen fluttered and flitted through the space between stones.

A dodge left. Then a dodge right. Then he curled into a tight ball. The smack of a rock against his carapace rattled his teeth as it sent him hurling through the air, a ball of green sailing towards Ra'a'mah . He was within a couple yards of her when he suddenly unfurled. A skeletal grin turned into a wild Zorren smile. Spread wings turned into saber wielding arms which descended towards her from each side with a familiar snap-hiss.

 

[Ra'a'mah]

The satisfying crack of stone against armor brought a grin to Ra'a'mah's face. "There we are," she said with unmistakable satisfaction. "I was beginning to think I'd have to work much harder for a clean hit." The smile lingered as the familiar shimmer of the Force gathered around Vulpesen. She had seen him assume other forms before, but it never ceased to fascinate her. The imposing Zorren folded away into the brilliant greens and blues of a Terylax, darting effortlessly between the remaining stones. "I will admit," she called with a laugh, "that does make you considerably more difficult to hit."

The cocoon hurtled toward her, and Ra recognized the feint immediately. Her feet were already moving before the transformation completed. As Vulpesen's familiar form emerged with twin sabers snapping to life, she met him head-on. Her golden staff whirled into motion, one blade catching the descending strike while the other rolled seamlessly into the second. Rather than contesting his strength, she yielded just enough to guide his momentum aside before springing backward, the Force carrying her several long strides away. Their blades parted in a brilliant shower of sparks, and she settled once more into a balanced guard, the double-bladed saber rotating once before becoming perfectly still.

"I see," she said, her smile never leaving. "You're determined to keep me guessing." The tip of one blade dipped ever so slightly in acknowledgment. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The words had barely left her lips before she began circling, her pace measured and deliberate, the staff turning lazily through her hands. Thin lines of orange light raced through the grass around Vulpesen before blossoming into a controlled ring of flame a few feet high. The fire rolled with gentle heat, leaving the surrounding garden untouched as flowers bent in the warm updraft. Ra lowered the point of one golden blade and regarded him through the wavering curtain of fire with quiet amusement. "Let's see if your education covered fighting inside someone else's battlefield." The flames were never meant to trap him. They were simply another question, and she was curious to see how he would answer it.

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

"You're clever," the Valde grunted as he rolled to his feet from the dive. His sabers swirled at his side and he bounced on the balls of his feet. He'd likely have a bruise in a couple of hours, but it was nothing that he hadn't dealt with before. His eyes tracked her path as she circled. The motion made him feel like prey being stalked by a cat. It brought a smile to his face and he rose a brow as a streak of flame coursed out to form a ring around him. Of the skills he had learned among the wilders, fire was far from his best element, but it was still in his repertoire. All he needed was a bit of a boost from another of his skills.

His arms swirled to gather the currents of the force, his dance like movements causing a whirlwind which whipped up the flames and gathered them to stream about. Then, with a step forward anda pushing movement, Vulpesen sent a stream of wind and flame rushing towards Ra'a'mah . Crimson and orange swirled and flowed like a stream of water, carried by a powerful flow of air that parted through the wall of the fiery ring where Vulpesen ontinued to stand in the center. "Just a little toasty in here. I'm getting warmed up."

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah watched the ring of flame twist and rise beneath Vulpesen's command, the corners of her mouth lifting despite herself. She had expected him to answer the challenge. She simply hadn't expected him to answer it with her own fire.

"Resourceful," she called back. "I'd expect nothing less."

The torrent came at her like a living thing, driven by both wind and flame. Rather than retreat, she planted her feet. One hand came forward, fingers spread, as the Force gathered around her in a nearly invisible barrier that caught the rushing inferno. Fire curled around the shimmering edge, splitting and flowing past either side while the force of the wind broke against it in swirling eddies. Heat washed over her, warm enough to tug at her hair and clothes, but little more. As the last of the flames dispersed, the barrier faded as quietly as it had appeared.

She was already moving.

The Force carried her low across the ground, not in a straight charge but along an angled approach that kept her difficult to predict. Her golden staff remained active for only another heartbeat before she disengaged it, and with a practiced flick of her wrist, the weapon hung harmlessly at her side as she closed the final few steps.

For an instant she seemed unarmed. Then her left hand flashed, holding a small hilt.

A short purple shoto ignited in one smooth motion, but it was only a distraction. Her right hand had already slipped lower, drawing one of her slim boot knives. She stepped inside his reach with the effortless confidence of someone who had spent years learning exactly how close an opponent could be before they became vulnerable.

"You've added a few new tricks," she said, amusement evident in her voice.

"It would have been rude if I hadn't."

The knife darted forward in a precise thrust toward the center of his armored chest, fast enough to demand a response but measured enough that she knew it would absorb the impact without harm.

Her smile never left her face.

"You'll forgive me," she said, "if I occasionally fight a little unfairly."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen's eyes tracked her movements through the flame, following with a winding serpent of fire which chased after her every stride and step. Ordinarily, this would be the time for him to employ his own evasive footwork, to jump or take flight. Instead, he stayed where he was. Wind, fire, and lightning had all made their appearances. Now, like a stone, he would not be moved. His body bent back from the shoto, giving him enough room to react. A short weapon usually meant another to follow, an epiphany brought on by his own martial habits and proven right as her dagger forced him into a sharp spin that left the steel to ring at the edge of his cloak.

"Considerate," he grunted in approval at her apparent observance of etiquette. Then, his hand came up in a punching motion across his body. Out of range, there was no way for the blow to connect with the woman's torso, but such was the way with most force guiding gestures. He had stood his ground, and now the elements would yield to him. A pillar of stone shot from the ground, a blunt end streaking towards Ra's chest in a direction that mimicked the path Vulpesen had traced before his own body. "Only if you forgive me for the same." His brows were furrowed in concentration and his tail lashed out behind him from excitement and the frustration of dealing with such a nimble foe. All the same, there was a wide grin across his own face.

Ra'a'mah

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah saw the attack coming the moment Vulpesen's weight settled instead of yielding. He wasn't retreating this time. He had chosen his ground, and the Force answered him.

"There it is," she murmured, the smile never leaving her face.

The pillar of stone burst upward, surging toward her chest. Rather than springing away, she met it. Her free hand came forward, fingertips brushing the rough surface as the Force flowed into the rock with practiced precision. She didn't try to stop it. She merely stole enough of its momentum to let it glance off her shoulder rather than strike her squarely. The stone scraped along her upper arm before continuing past, leaving a sharp sting that promised a bruise by morning.

"That one's going to leave a mark."

She was already moving before the pillar had fully cleared her path.

Using the stone itself as cover, she slipped around its trailing edge and closed the distance once more. The golden staff reignited with its familiar snap-hiss, its twin blades tracing brilliant arcs through the air. The first sweep stayed low, aimed toward his forward leg to force a reaction rather than claim a hit. Without pausing, the momentum carried her into a fluid rotation, the opposite end of the staff rising in a controlled strike toward his far shoulder.

"If we're exchanging lessons," she called with a grin, her staff continuing its graceful dance as she flowed through the combination, "then I'd hate for you to think I only know one way inside someone's guard."

Vulpesen

 

[Vulpesen]

He whirled as Ra drew in close, each movement flowing into the next. Even with his saber unignited, Vulpesen believed in the economy of makashi, never letting momentum fall away into waste. Of course, the battlefield, like his tactics, was always in movement. His own saber ignited and gold black onyx sprang from his emitters. Vulpesen's weapon swirled to form a bi-colored disk which clashed with hers two attacks. The double ring of plasma sang in his ears. "I've never been one to complain when you decide to get close."

This time, he didn't pull away, strike for strike, he matched her. His hands danced along the hilt of his weapon, each hand acting as a lever to form a defensive weave that lashed out and struck at the woman in front of him. He had been careful to turn down the intensity the beams to allow for a stunning strike rather than something that might cleave through limbs or worse. Of course, that also meant that he had no reason to hold back with his swings and technique. Circular steps kept him dancing around Ra'a'mah as he searched for new angles to strike from, never once staying in a linear path that might make him easier to track.

Ra'a'mah

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah's ears twitched at the familiar snap-hiss of Vulpesen's blade, the subtle movement almost lost beneath the steady rhythm of their footwork. The corner of her mouth lifted as his reply drew a quiet laugh from her.

"Good." Their blades met again, gold sliding across black and gold in a shower of sparks. "Because I'm not finished."

She welcomed the close exchange.

This was where she had spent decades refining herself, where battles ceased to be contests of overwhelming power and became conversations measured in inches, fractions of a second, and the slightest shift of weight. The Force flowed through her not as a weapon but as an extension of instinct, sharpening her reflexes, quickening her movements, and allowing her to read the beginnings of an attack before it had fully committed. Her tail flicked once behind her as their sabers met again and again, gold washing across gold in rapid succession. Every impact sang through the garden while her staff moved with practiced economy, never traveling farther than necessary before becoming the next block or the next strike.

She matched his circling steps without ever mirroring them exactly. A slight pivot of her hips denied one angle. A half-step carried her outside another. Twice she tilted her head just enough for a blade to hiss harmlessly past, her ears flattening instinctively as the heat brushed by. Their weapons remained in constant motion, neither duelist gaining more than the briefest advantage before the other answered in kind.

Then she reached into the Force.

Not to strike him, but to disturb the rhythm beneath his feet. A subtle pull at the ground, timed to the instant his weight shifted, enough to steal his balance and create the smallest opening.

Nothing happened. Her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Interesting.

The realization lasted no more than a heartbeat before she abandoned the attempt entirely. Whatever protected him from that influence wasn't worth puzzling over in the middle of a duel. She trusted her hands far more than any unseen advantage.

"So," she said between the ringing exchanges of plasma, amusement still evident despite the growing pace of the fight, "we're doing this the traditional way."

Her staff spun through another tight rotation, one end catching his blade high while the opposite swept low toward his leading side, not seeking to force a hit but to continue testing his defense, probing patiently for the smallest imperfection that even a Master might eventually reveal.

Vulpesen