Kael vs Roten [Saber Clash]

[Flame of Rebellion]

​

Off to the far side of the biodome, a thick swamp is seperated from everyone else. Willowing Trees, and an ankle-high water give Roten and Kael Vayra a very wet and humid atmosphere to fight in.

"Round one! Fight!"

A robotic voice sounds off, leaving them to their duel.

 

[Roten]

Zoro Laha
Tags: Kael Vayra

Kiba no Shimai​

Roten let out an exhale as he felt the water slosh between his claws. He did his best not to focus on the fact that he was gonna be picking gunk out of his fur later. There was the much more pressing matter of combat.

In his hands Roten held two training sabers. His Kiba no Shimai, the blades he were so fond of, were far too lethal to be using in a tournament like this. He wasn't looking forward to fighting without them. They had a natural pull towards him and always drew back easily when thrown. He would have to throw these training weapons far less.

No, he wasn't actually happy about the location he was stuck with. This muck was gonna drive him bonkers.

"Round one! Fight!"

"Great," Roten muttered before calling out to the other contestant. "Kael, was it? Can we make this quick? I'm not eager to stay in this place longer than I have to..."

He was gonna need a shower after this.

 

[Kael Vayra]

​

Kael felt no nerves as he stood within the swamp. Not for lack of his body trying to summon them. Anxiety was natural in moments like this, when eyes watched and expectations weighed heavy, when a single misstep could define the outcome. Yet beneath it all, Kael felt only a quiet certainty. This was his moment. A chance to prove himself not through words or titles, but through motion and will.

Combat had always stripped away his restraint. Despite his efforts to temper his ego, it was here, in the anticipation of a fight, that his instincts surged strongest. The thrill sharpened his focus rather than clouding it, and he embraced that edge instead of fighting it.

He wore nothing ornate or ceremonial. Simple brown and white robes clung to him, their hems already darkening as water and mud soaked into the fabric with each step. The swamp tugged at his boots, cool and slick, splashing against his legs. Kael paid it no mind. Appearances meant little once the duel began.

When he stepped fully into the open, Kael closed his eyes and drew in a slow, steady breath. The humid air filled his lungs as he let the rhythm of the swamp settle him. The subtle pull of the water. The sway of the willowing trees. The quiet life humming beneath the surface. When his eyes opened again, a faint smirk touched his lips as he looked toward his opponent.

"May we both fight well today," Kael said, his tone carrying genuine respect. "I hope we both prove to be entertaining."

His hand dropped to the training saber. With a practiced motion, he ignited it, the green blade springing to life with a steady hum that grounded him. Kael lowered his head and bowed deeply, arms extended slightly at his sides in a formal gesture of respect.

"Let's not rush our dance, my friend," Kael said with a confident smirk as he lifted from his bow. "Let's give the judges a show."

Speed was where Kael thrived. Ataru was built for momentum and motion, for turning aggression into fluidity. If his opponent wanted quick, then Kael was more than willing to oblige.

He burst forward, water spraying as his boots cut through the swamp. His training saber came alive in a rapid flurry of strikes, tight and precise thrusts aimed to probe defenses rather than commit too deeply. Each motion flowed into the next, his footwork light despite the uneven terrain.

Kael drew on the Force and channeled it into his legs. With a powerful push, he launched himself upward, body twisting midair as he brought his saber down in sharp, controlled jabs aimed at Roten's shoulders. The strikes came from above in quick succession, forcing a reaction.

As gravity reclaimed him, Kael attempted to carry his momentum past Roten, angling for a landing on the opposite side. His intent was clear. Overwhelm with speed. Keep the pressure constant. Slip in unexpected angles and timing to catch Roten off guard before he could settle into his rhythm.

Roten

 

[Roten]

Zoro Laha
Tags: Kael Vayra

Kiba no Shimai​

Banter aside, the knight certainly made good on getting started quickly. Ataru was something that Roten was familiar with by now. He had run enough simulations with training droids and faced a few opponents who utilized the style. Uncharacteristically of him, Roten opened his mind to the Force and tapped into his instincts.

Would Matthew of Valendale be proud of him for making use of a less aggressive style like Soresu?

Maybe.

When the flurry of blows came towards him, Roten activated both of his blades and maintained a rigid defense, blocking most blows without much in the way of redirection. Then came the leap. That was the Ataru signature, flip over somebody and attack from the top and the back. When the strikes came for his shoulders, the Bursantian opted to rotate his body 90 degrees to avoid the strikes. He gritted his teeth as he felt the heat of the plasma singe the ends of the fur tufts that adorned his shoulders. Even non lethal plasma didn't feel good to be hit by, so he wasn't eager for that blade to get any closer.

When Kael landed on the opposite side of him, Roten was quick to turn his body the other 90 degrees and bring up his guard.

"Chit, at least you decided to make it snappy," Roten huffed.

His own speed wasn't really gonna give him an edge here. Not against someone who specialized in quick battles. He needed an edge. The terrain was there to use as they saw fit, right? The young man let the old tongue slip through his teeth, speaking runes to let the Force flow through him.

Chill

Roten lifted up one foot and set it down on the surface of the water. It froze beneath him, creating a platform to stand on. He followed suit with the other foot. He then let out a Force Bellow, not a particularly powerful one, but just enough to turn the water from still to wild. The swamp now surged like a wave pool, adding a new dynamic layer to their battlefield. The Bursantian took one step, then began to skate slowly around his opponent.

 

[Kael Vayra]

​

Kael smirked as his boots found solid purchase again, water dripping from his robes as he settled into his stance. He could feel the rhythm of the fight beginning to tilt, subtle but undeniable. Roten had drawn inward, adopting a defensive posture that Kael recognized immediately. Soresu. It was a smart choice. Patient. Enduring. Designed to weather storms rather than break beneath them. If Kael allowed the duel to stretch on, that discipline would begin to work against him, turning his speed and aggression into exhaustion.

"I aim to please," Kael replied, bowing lightly in acknowledgment of the comment. The gesture was playful, almost theatrical, but his focus never wavered.

He was preparing to press the advantage when the temperature around his feet dropped sharply. Instinct flared. The water beneath him crystallized in an instant, ice creeping outward in jagged patterns as Kael was lifted abruptly from the swamp's surface. He felt the Force gathering, compressing, and knew what was coming a heartbeat before it hit.

The Force Bellow slammed into him like a physical wall.

Kael thrust his hand forward, pouring energy into a hurried push. It blunted the worst of the impact, but not enough. The remaining force crashed into his shoulders and chest, spinning him sideways and sending him stumbling through the slick footing. His boots skidded across ice and mud before he caught himself, breath leaving him in a sharp exhale.

He barely had time to steady before he saw it.

Water surged toward him in a rolling wall, the swamp itself rising in answer to Roten's command. Kael's grin returned despite the danger.

"Well, that's cool," he said, laughter slipping through his words.

He looked up and acted without hesitation. The Force surged through him as he leapt skyward, vaulting into the canopy just as the wave thundered past where he had stood moments before. The swamp exploded into motion beneath him, branches snapping and water churning as the surge tore through the clearing.

Kael landed in a crouch on a thick tree limb, fingers curling into the bark as he balanced with ease. From above, he called down, voice light and impressed.

"Hey, man, that's not a bad idea. Using the environment to your advantage."

As he spoke, Kael's focus shifted. A familiar thrill sparked behind his eyes. It was time to change the rhythm.

The Force twisted subtly around him, light bending and presence splitting. Beside Kael, another figure took shape. Identical in form and movement, a perfect copy crouched on the neighboring branch, mirroring his posture and expression. The illusion breathed when he breathed, shifted when he shifted.

Then they moved.

Kael and his double sprang into motion, darting through the trees in tandem. Branches bent beneath their feet as they leapt from limb to limb, green blade flashing between leaves and shadow. The illusion matched him step for step, impossible to distinguish at a glance.

"Which one is me?" Kael called out, laughter ringing through the canopy as he relished the chaos, clearly enjoying himself.

Roten

 

[Roten]

Zoro Laha
Tags: Kael Vayra

Kiba no Shimai​

"You've gotta be..."

Two. What the hell was this? Roten tried to concentrate, but the energy of all the plant life got in the way. There were too many living things around for him to quickly determine what the illusion was. His eyes danced between the two, unseen in their pupil-less appearance, trying to figure out which one was his actual target. To say that he was getting nowhere was an understatement. Roten needed a solution that would give him his answer quickly. Really there was only one thing that he felt he could do.

Operate as though he were fighting two targets.

"Aw, what the hell," the Bursantian muttered.

He slammed his foot down against the surface of the rocking water and froze a large portion of the top layer. The violent sloshing of the swamp quickly broke the ice into fragments. Roten telekinetically lifted the shards of ice up and hurled them at both Kael's in a cloud of debris.

Something had to show him where he ought to be aiming his blows.

 

[Kael Vayra]

​

Kael and his illusion danced through the trees, their movements fluid and perfectly mirrored as they bounded from branch to branch. Leaves shook loose and water splashed below with every landing. Kael felt it then, the subtle click of confidence settling into place. Roten's attention was divided. His focus strained. Kael was certain he had finally pushed his opponent off balance.

That certainty lasted only a heartbeat.

A sudden surge of cold snapped through the air, and shards of ice tore free from the swamp below, rocketing upward in a violent spray. Kael reacted instantly. He abandoned his attack and dropped hard, fingers latching onto a low branch as the ice screamed through the space he and his illusion had occupied moments before.

"Missed me," Kael called out with a laugh.

The sound cut short.

One of the shards punched cleanly through his illusion. The copy rippled and flickered, its outline distorting for an instant before stabilizing again.

"Dang," Kael muttered.

He released the branch and landed lightly in the shallow water below, knees bending to absorb the impact. Ripples spread outward from his boots, but he did not pause. Roten had proven he could adapt, and Kael had no intention of giving him time to think.

Drawing the Force into himself, Kael surged forward, speed flooding his limbs. He and the illusion launched together, crossing paths and switching positions again and again in rapid succession. They leapt past one another, reversed angles, and split apart only to converge once more, each movement designed to scramble Roten's senses.

At the last second, the illusion peeled off and swept wide, circling toward Roten's flank. Kael stayed directly in front of him, blade humming as he closed the distance. The illusion struck low, aiming to draw a reaction, while Kael followed through with a precise cut toward Roten's shoulder.

It was a deliberate gamble.

Roten had to choose.

One strike was real. One was not.

Roten

 

[Roten]

Zoro Laha
Tags: Kael Vayra

Kiba no Shimai​

Roten didn't have enough time to celebrate the fact that he found the fake. Kael and his illusion went back on the offensive, swapping position in rapid succession as they moved towards him. It was so fast that, once again, Roten lost track of them. Then they split ways. One moved straight for him and the other moved to flank. This was bad. As Roten scrambled to wrap his head around the situation, time seemed to slow for a moment. His panic faded away as he reflected.

Why was he panicking? He had seen countless battles before now. What he needed to do was take a breath, clear his mind, and feel the truth for what it was.

The Bursantian closed his eyes and let the energy of the Force reveal the truth. He didn't let the noise of all the living things around him overwhelm him this time. Focus. One was real, one was fake. He just needed to hear where the heartbeat was. When he was certain that he had it, Roten open his eyes and raised his training sabers up in an X shape to catch the incoming attack...

...right in front of him.

Hopefully he had chosen right.

 

[Kael Vayra]

​

For a brief, electric moment, Kael thought he had him. He saw it in Roten's eyes. The hesitation. The flash of uncertainty as Kael's blade pressed in and the pressure mounted. Victory felt close enough to touch, a surge of confidence rising in his chest as he committed to the strike. This was it. He was going to take the round. Then the moment slipped through his fingers.

Roten recovered with impressive speed, his defense snapping back into place as he intercepted the attack. The clash of training sabers rang out, firm and controlled. Instead of frustration, a bright smile spread across his face. There was no bitterness in it. Only admiration. His opponent had adapted, steady and composed, letting the Force guide him through the opening Kael had tried to exploit.

"You are really good at this," Kael said sincerely. He drew his lightsaber back and took a few measured steps away, giving the duel a moment to breathe. Water rippled around his boots as the distance opened between them. Kael rolled his shoulder once, loosening tension, eyes never leaving Roten.

"When this is all said and done," he continued, voice calm but energized, "I think you and I should train together. I could learn a thing or two from you." The words were genuine. Kael meant them.

His expression sharpened just slightly as he settled back into his stance. "But one of us has to win today," he added, a playful edge returning to his tone. "And I sure hope it's me."

He spun the training saber in his hand, the motion smooth and practiced, before bringing it back into guard. His free hand rose, fingers spreading as he drew the Force inward, energy building in his palm like a tightening coil. With a sharp exhale, Kael thrust his hand forward and released the gathered power in a focused push.

He followed it immediately. Kael surged in behind the Force wave, closing the distance in a blur of motion. His blade came alive in a renewed onslaught, strikes fast and relentless, each one layered atop the last. This time, his intent was clear. Overwhelm. Deny space. Keep the pressure so constant that Roten would have no room to draw on the Force again.

Roten

 

[Roten]

Zoro Laha
Tags: Kael Vayra

Kiba no Shimai​

"But one of us has to win today," he added, a playful edge returning to his tone. "And I sure hope it's me."

Roten steeled himself when he felt the air shift. A strong Force push was sent his way, causing him to skid back considerably. There was little time to reorient himself before the onslaught of blows that followed. The goal was clearly to overwhelm, and it was working. With as much combat experience as the Bursantian had in his life, his talent with the Force was not second nature. He had not been training as a Jedi for as long as others. When that focus slipped, he struggled to reign it back in.

Much as Soresu had seen success weathering the first flurry of blows, one strike finally managed to pass through his guard. It struck across his shoulder and upper-right chest, the force of it knocking Roten backwards. In the process the blade on that side had been dropped into the muck. With a huff, the Bursantian reached up to rub the sore spot. Hus fur had insulated him from the heat somewhat, but it still hurt. He stood for a moment with gritted teeth before his posture relaxed. A sigh escaped from the padawan's chest as he relaxed a little.

"That's probably a killing blow in a real fight," Roten admitted. "That blows..."

He had been so wrapped up in playing defensive and being a good Jedi that he hadn't even done so much as swing his blades to strike. It was difficult to find a middle ground between being too cautious and slipping back into the violence of his upbringing.

Maybe he was fighting a losing battle.

"So what, was this like a best two out of three thing?" he asked.

He didn't exactly want to throw in the towel just yet.

 

[Kael Vayra]

​

The onslaught was working. Kael could feel it in the rhythm of the exchange, in the way Roten's defense began to strain under the constant pressure. Each strike flowed into the next until, finally, his blade slipped through and struck true, forcing Roten back.

Kael stopped instantly.

He straightened, breath steady, a flicker of pride rising in his chest at the clean connection. It vanished just as quickly when he saw the look on Roten's face. The frustration. The disappointment. The quiet weight of self doubt.

Kael had worn that expression more times than he cared to count.

"Yes," Kael said as he deactivated his training saber and stepped closer. "That would have been the end of it for sure."

He leaned in slightly, inspecting the singed fur where the blade had struck. The mark was clear, undeniable.

"I got you pretty good, huh?" Kael added with a laugh before straightening again and rubbing the back of his head, suddenly sheepish.

"Don't beat yourself up though," he continued. "Do you know how many times I've been killed in training?"

He paused, memories surfacing. His master's voice. The lectures. The warnings about arrogance and rushing ahead without thinking.

"A lot," Kael said, answering himself with a grin.

He stepped back and began bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, energy still buzzing through him. The tension shifted, no longer sharp but alive and encouraging.

"But," Kael went on, voice brightening, "this isn't a real fight. And who gets the technical first killing blow wasn't written into the rules."

A grin spread across his face as the idea took shape.

"So let's call it a mulligan and keep going. Sound good?"

Kael reignited his lightsaber, but his stance changed. He lowered his center of gravity, blade held in a more guarded position. No acrobatics. No rush. He was deliberately abandoning Ataru, offering space instead of pressure.

He nodded toward Roten, sincere and inviting.

"Your move, friend."

Roten

 

[Roten]

Zoro Laha
Tags: Kael Vayra

Kiba no Shimai​

"I suppose there's a reason you're a knight then," Roten mused.

He hated to admit such a thing, but the experience of the individual he was facing was refreshing. It wasn't so far beyond his capabilities that he was overwhelmed, like how he felt around Matthew of Valendale . It was just an uphill climb. Maybe he did want to spar later...

Roten just needed to work up to admitting that part aloud.

Once more, Roten brought up his blades and let out an exhale. It was his turn to go on the offensive. What his strikes assumed was a bit on the peculiar side. They would come fast and slightly aggressive, like Juyo or Djem So, but not a raw output of strength. There was more finesse about his incoming strikes, a series of arcs and thrusts that matched the fencing style of Makashi. That blending was Niman, the flexible middle-ground. Many saw it as a lazy form for those who disliked combat. It was Roten's favored form, as it best matched his swordsmanship style. It was, after all, the preferred form of many exceptional individuals. Plus it had helped him learn Jar'Kai.

One only needed dedication and resolve to make it effective.

Of course, Niman also encouraged use of the Force. After his flurry of strikes, Roten would swirl the water of the bog around Kael's feet in an attempt to weaken his balance.

 

[Kael Vayra]

​

"I suppose there's a reason you're a knight then,"

"Yeah, I kept coming back. Eventually they had to make me one," Kael joked.

The humor came easily, even now. Of course, he had earned his title. Every trial, every setback, every bruise and failure along the way had shaped him into the Jedi Knight he was today. Still, Kael had never seen the point in pretending otherwise. If he could laugh at himself, then the weight of expectation never had full control over him.

His grip tightened around his blade as Roten pressed forward again. Kael shifted his focus inward, forcing himself to slow down. He had spent most of the duel on the offensive, dictating tempo through speed and unpredictability. Now he had to do the opposite. He had to let the Force guide him while resisting his own instincts to surge forward.

That was the hard part. Kael's body wanted to push. To strike. To press the advantage even when none was there. Being driven onto the back foot felt wrong, like swimming against a current that refused to yield. He drew in a steady breath and trusted the Force to carry him through the moment.

Soresu was not his strength, but it was not foreign to him either. He had trained it enough to understand its principles. Balance. Economy. Control. Kael widened his stance slightly, grounding himself as he began to move his lightsaber in tight, efficient arcs. Each parry was measured, each deflection deliberate. He did not overextend. He did not chase openings that were not there.

Roten's movements told a story of their own. There was confidence in them now. A natural rhythm that had not been present earlier when he was forced into defense. His strikes flowed together with ease, his transitions smooth and unhurried. This was a style Roten belonged in, and Kael could feel the difference with every exchange.

"This," Kael said as he caught a strike and redirected it aside, "is why you push the pace." Their blades met again, sparks flashing briefly between them. "When you don't let your opponent dictate the fight," Kael continued, stepping back into another clean parry, "it's much easier to stay in control."

As the words left his mouth, Kael realized he sounded less like a competitor and more like an instructor. The thought registered too late. His focus split for just a moment, divided between the duel and the instinct to teach rather than win. That hesitation cost him.

The water beneath his boots stirred without warning. Kael felt the pull a heartbeat too late as the swamp twisted around his feet. His balance faltered. His stance broke. In an instant, the calm structure of his defense unraveled. Kael stumbled, guard opening just enough. Roten seized the opportunity.

Kael tried to recover, blade coming up in a hurried deflection, but he was a fraction of a second too slow. The training blade struck his arm with a sharp, jolting sting. Pain flared through his muscles, and his grip failed him. The lightsaber slipped from his fingers and splashed into the shallow water. Kael staggered, nearly falling, before he managed to regain his footing. He straightened slowly, chest rising and falling as the moment settled.

"Not quite a killing blow," Kael said, letting out a resigned sigh as he flexed his arm, "but enough to win the fight." He looked back up at Roten and smiled, equal parts respect and acceptance in his expression.

"Guess we're even now."

Roten

 

[Roten]

Zoro Laha
Tags: Kael Vayra

Kiba no Shimai​

Roten let out an exhale as his blade struck. He didn't let it linger for long, quickly pulling it back. That plasma didn't feel great. He'd rather not cause any unnecessary pain.

"Guess we're even now."

"Even's not exactly productive when someone has to win," Roten noted with a shrug. "I think we both have a pretty clear defensive weakness. The person who adopted a passive form lost both times."

It was important to point that out. It was that sort of weakness that Roten was determined to weed out in his training. The truth of the matter is that it was hard to be defensive when your body was built to be lean and fast. The more mass you put on your body the harder it was to be agile. Muscle was no exception to that. That meant defense needed to take a different form for Roten, and he was starting to wrap his brain around what he needed to do in order to be effective. The Bursantian took a moment to stretch, getting himself ready to go at it again.

"How about a best two of three, yeah?" he suggested. "I've got a few more ideas I'd like to give a test run."

Something that leaned more into his style.

 

[Kael Vayra]

​

Kael extended his hand and felt the familiar pull as his training saber snapped back into his grasp. Kael spun the hilt with confidence and a bit of showmanship before he latched on and held it at his side, blade still dormant.

"Yeah, defense was never my thing," Kael said with a crooked smirk. "All gas, no brakes."

The words were playful, but they stirred something uncomfortable in the back of his mind. He could almost hear his master's voice, calm but firm, correcting him. Chiding him for arrogance. For mistaking confidence for recklessness. The echo lingered just long enough to dull his smile before he pushed it aside. He acknowledged the feeling, then let it pass. There was no room for hesitation now.

"The grand finale," Kael said, grin returning as he stretched his arm outward.

With a sharp snap hiss, the training saber ignited at his side. The green blade flared to life, casting light across his features and revealing the unfiltered excitement written plainly across his face. This was where he belonged. In motion. In the clash.

"I've enjoyed our battle, my friend," Kael continued, voice sincere. "And I look forward to us both growing stronger before we cross blades again."

He meant every word.

But the time for reflection was over.

Kael drew in the Force, feeling it coil through his arm and down into the swamp beneath his feet. The water behind him surged upward in response, rising into a rolling wall that loomed at his back. With a sharp motion, he thrust his arm forward and sent the wave crashing ahead of him.

The water rushed overhead and slammed toward Roten in a roaring surge.

Kael followed immediately, sprinting in its wake. He vaulted forward with explosive speed, returning to his favored form of Ataru, as his blade came alive in a rapid barrage of strikes. He pressed the attack relentlessly, saber flashing in sweeping arcs and sudden angles, every step driven by momentum and precision.


Roten

 

[Roten]

Zoro Laha
Tags: Kael Vayra

Kiba no Shimai​

Roten felt something fuzzy in his chest when the man said friend. Friend. What a kind regard. Roten didn't know if he had anyone he could call a friend. To hear those words made him swell with something that he never quite expected. Did he want this?

He did. Roten wanted to be a good person. One with friends and validation. One who didn't have to fight to earn his keep, or plunder to survive.

It lit a fire in his heart.

When the wave came, Roten surrendered to this feeling he felt inside him. His hand raised to meet the water, and in turn it spit apart to allow him safe passage, crashing down violently on either side of him. Then came the next burst of Ataru. Fast, violent, and precise. It was everything that Roten had faced initially, and again he assumed Soresu to meet the blows. This time, however, he wasn't going to simply wait out the attack. He was going to act and push back. Niman encouraged use of the Force. Roten needed to allow himself to use the Force, and not just in simplistic ways. He needed to be creative and adaptable.

Roten shifted to a one-handed guard to hold off the onslaught. He then raised his free hand, causing water to swirl up around Kael's legs all the way up to just past his knees. Then he spoke again, those old words of power:

Chill

The water, if he had been fast enough, would flash freeze around him.