Shane stood opposite his opponent, who also happened to be the client. Ior Valiir, now an eighty-year-old man, once a valiant and renown warrior who had played his part, no matter how small it was, in all the wars that had wreaked Fiore before. The warrior had lived by his code of honor, and knowing his end was now near, he had chosen to die by it as well. An honorable death, a death in battle. A death that would be coming from Shane’s hands.
The two of them were standing in the training courtyard behind Ior’s house. A coroner, hired by Ior was standing to the side of the courtyard. He had been employed to tie it all up, his part to come after Shane’s. He hadn’t spoken when the mage had arrived, merely nodding and then following them out of the courtyard.
Ior Valiir was dressed in his battle robe, tightened around the waist with cords. On his left hand was his trusty kite shield, unadorned and as plain as the man himself. His double-edged sword was gripped tightly in his right hand. He held his right arm loosely by the side, sword pointed diagonally at the ground while his kite shield was raised up before him. He kept his feet in a wide stance, left leg to the front and right leg at the back.
And to top it all off, Ior Valiir had used a simple magic to restore his appearance to his prime. He was handsome, and with his weapons, giving off an aura every bit the same as when he was at his peak.
“Are you ready?” the warrior asked, his words short and precise. Even when Shane had showed up at his house, Ior had only explained it to him as briefly and concisely as he could. And he had been shown to the back of the house immediately after.
With his shield Prime strapped to his left arm, Shane lightly moved his hand up and down with the double-edged sword in his right hand. The sword in hand was slightly on the light side, but he would have to make do. It was a loan from Ior anyway. Moving his left leg to the fore and holding his shield up, sword pointed to ground as well, Shane nodded. A smile was about to form, but he held it back. It wasn’t the right time.
“Ready to start whenever you are.”
The moment those words left his mouth, Ior Valiir lunged forward. His movements swift and precise. He led with a shield bash, before striking with a downwards slash. Shane was caught slightly off guard, but he wouldn’t be blown away by just a shield bash. Shield clashed against shield. Shane followed it up with a horizontal slash, blocking the attack from Ior. The two of them engaged in a sword lock before pushing away from each other.
Again Ior was the first to initiate. This was a fight to end his life honorably, and he was going all out. Shane was unrelenting as well. The warrior first struck with a diagonal slash upwards from right to left, swung his left arm forward to bash the mage with his shield again and finally spun in place to throw out a horizontal slash boosted by the momentum. Shane could only defend against the combo, pushed back a few steps before he launched his own counter attack.
Gripping his shield tightly, the blonde mage lunged at his opponent, punching his shield forward at Ior’s shield. He followed up with another smash to Ior’s shield with the pommel of his sword and then ended it with a kick to the shield. His intention was clear as day. Ior Valiir was too proficient with a sword and shield, and Shane’s first objective was to knock the shield out of his hands.
He succeeded, having caught the man off guard with the continuous attacks on the shield. Ior’s left hand was kicked to the side, the shield strap wide open for Shane as he pressed on with his attacks, swinging in a wide arc towards Ior’s hands, severing the straps while leaving a light wound on the man’s forearm. The kite shield fell to the ground with a dull thud.
“Not bad, kid,” the warrior praised, but there was no smile. He was as serious as ever. Gaze steely, Ior moved his left hand to his sword and held it in a two-handed grip. He charged and came with a diagonal strike from left to right, horizontal slash from the right and a thrust towards Shane’s chest. Shane had tried to parry, but the strength behind the first attack deflected his sword to the side, forcing the mage to endure and defend against the remaining two. He was forced back and he could feel the numbness in his arms from the heavy slashes.
Ior was insistent. Right after finishing his three-slash combo, the warrior pressed on with his attacks, a far cry from the more cautious style that he employed with the sword and shield. All Shane could do was defend and occasionally parry the lighter strikes. He was watching for any openings at all, certain that the more aggressive style would have.
Fifteen more slashes later, his ears ringing from the continuous clang of metal on his shield and left arm sore from defending, Shane finally saw Ior began to slow down. His stamina had been impressive, but he was still eighty years old. The wind up for his next attack, a downwards slash, had taken longer than usual and Shane took his chance. Rushing to the front, the blonde mage swung his left arm forward, punching into the warrior’s chest with the top of his shield and finished it off with a spinning slash across his chest.
Ior stumbled back from the attacks, before dropping his sword to the ground. A smile finally took form on his face as he looked down at the wound. He looked up at Shane with a grateful expression.
“Thank you, young man,” was all he said before he closed his eyes and collapsed to the ground. During this time, Shane was standing still, unsure of what to do. Even when the man had fallen, it was the coroner who walked up to him and checked his pulse to see if Ior had truly died. After a few seconds, he was satisfied and stood up to face Shane. He was the one who held Shane’s hand and released his grip on the sword, letting it drop to the floor freely.
“It takes courage to do what you just did. Don’t worry about it, this was what he wanted,” he said with a reassuring smile and a pat on Shane’s shoulder. Shane could only nod. The expression on Ior Valiir’s face was one of serenity, the happiness of a man at the end of a fruitful journey, a man who lived his life to its fullest, all purposes filled.
The two of them were standing in the training courtyard behind Ior’s house. A coroner, hired by Ior was standing to the side of the courtyard. He had been employed to tie it all up, his part to come after Shane’s. He hadn’t spoken when the mage had arrived, merely nodding and then following them out of the courtyard.
Ior Valiir was dressed in his battle robe, tightened around the waist with cords. On his left hand was his trusty kite shield, unadorned and as plain as the man himself. His double-edged sword was gripped tightly in his right hand. He held his right arm loosely by the side, sword pointed diagonally at the ground while his kite shield was raised up before him. He kept his feet in a wide stance, left leg to the front and right leg at the back.
And to top it all off, Ior Valiir had used a simple magic to restore his appearance to his prime. He was handsome, and with his weapons, giving off an aura every bit the same as when he was at his peak.
“Are you ready?” the warrior asked, his words short and precise. Even when Shane had showed up at his house, Ior had only explained it to him as briefly and concisely as he could. And he had been shown to the back of the house immediately after.
With his shield Prime strapped to his left arm, Shane lightly moved his hand up and down with the double-edged sword in his right hand. The sword in hand was slightly on the light side, but he would have to make do. It was a loan from Ior anyway. Moving his left leg to the fore and holding his shield up, sword pointed to ground as well, Shane nodded. A smile was about to form, but he held it back. It wasn’t the right time.
“Ready to start whenever you are.”
The moment those words left his mouth, Ior Valiir lunged forward. His movements swift and precise. He led with a shield bash, before striking with a downwards slash. Shane was caught slightly off guard, but he wouldn’t be blown away by just a shield bash. Shield clashed against shield. Shane followed it up with a horizontal slash, blocking the attack from Ior. The two of them engaged in a sword lock before pushing away from each other.
Again Ior was the first to initiate. This was a fight to end his life honorably, and he was going all out. Shane was unrelenting as well. The warrior first struck with a diagonal slash upwards from right to left, swung his left arm forward to bash the mage with his shield again and finally spun in place to throw out a horizontal slash boosted by the momentum. Shane could only defend against the combo, pushed back a few steps before he launched his own counter attack.
Gripping his shield tightly, the blonde mage lunged at his opponent, punching his shield forward at Ior’s shield. He followed up with another smash to Ior’s shield with the pommel of his sword and then ended it with a kick to the shield. His intention was clear as day. Ior Valiir was too proficient with a sword and shield, and Shane’s first objective was to knock the shield out of his hands.
He succeeded, having caught the man off guard with the continuous attacks on the shield. Ior’s left hand was kicked to the side, the shield strap wide open for Shane as he pressed on with his attacks, swinging in a wide arc towards Ior’s hands, severing the straps while leaving a light wound on the man’s forearm. The kite shield fell to the ground with a dull thud.
“Not bad, kid,” the warrior praised, but there was no smile. He was as serious as ever. Gaze steely, Ior moved his left hand to his sword and held it in a two-handed grip. He charged and came with a diagonal strike from left to right, horizontal slash from the right and a thrust towards Shane’s chest. Shane had tried to parry, but the strength behind the first attack deflected his sword to the side, forcing the mage to endure and defend against the remaining two. He was forced back and he could feel the numbness in his arms from the heavy slashes.
Ior was insistent. Right after finishing his three-slash combo, the warrior pressed on with his attacks, a far cry from the more cautious style that he employed with the sword and shield. All Shane could do was defend and occasionally parry the lighter strikes. He was watching for any openings at all, certain that the more aggressive style would have.
Fifteen more slashes later, his ears ringing from the continuous clang of metal on his shield and left arm sore from defending, Shane finally saw Ior began to slow down. His stamina had been impressive, but he was still eighty years old. The wind up for his next attack, a downwards slash, had taken longer than usual and Shane took his chance. Rushing to the front, the blonde mage swung his left arm forward, punching into the warrior’s chest with the top of his shield and finished it off with a spinning slash across his chest.
Ior stumbled back from the attacks, before dropping his sword to the ground. A smile finally took form on his face as he looked down at the wound. He looked up at Shane with a grateful expression.
“Thank you, young man,” was all he said before he closed his eyes and collapsed to the ground. During this time, Shane was standing still, unsure of what to do. Even when the man had fallen, it was the coroner who walked up to him and checked his pulse to see if Ior had truly died. After a few seconds, he was satisfied and stood up to face Shane. He was the one who held Shane’s hand and released his grip on the sword, letting it drop to the floor freely.
“It takes courage to do what you just did. Don’t worry about it, this was what he wanted,” he said with a reassuring smile and a pat on Shane’s shoulder. Shane could only nod. The expression on Ior Valiir’s face was one of serenity, the happiness of a man at the end of a fruitful journey, a man who lived his life to its fullest, all purposes filled.
