Brion gripped his sword and smiled to himself. With all the swarming he usually received from his more noisy peers, he'd always found Glenda's soft presence refreshing. He could see why a man like Quinn would chose her for an apprentice. She was quiet, logical, and obedient.
He looked up to see Alan, a childhood friend, trotting towards him, "It's about time you showed up. I was just coming to find you."
"Sorry," Brion chuckled, "I had to wrestle a few little rascals off of me before I could come. Its payback for leaving all the chores to them."
Alan smiled and slung an arm around his shoulders, "Well I hope it didn't tire you out much because you're going to need all the strength you can muster."
He smirked, "Facing me."
Brion rolled his eyes with a chuckle, "We'll see about that."
Brion studied Alan, his friend's armoured form divided in half by his dulled blade. Their audience of friends remained as silent and tense as they, waiting for the first twitch of movement.
Finally Alan lunged and Brion expertly turned his blade horizontally, blocking the attack. His friend backpeddeled and swung again but Brion ducked underneath the blade and tripped his friend up with his own weapon.
Undaunted, Alan crawled back to his feet and regained his stance. In one fluid motion, Brion stepped forward and spun his wrist, knocking his opponent's weapon from his hand.
Alan, with a yelp of dismay, glanced back as his blunted blade clattered to the ground. Brion smirked and took another step forward, mainly just to intimidate him.
It worked. Alan stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet. He gripped his sword again and then climbed back up. Ego as bruised as his rump, he took a stronger stance and focused.
With a sudden roar, he charged forwards. Brion didn't move. He didn't even twitch a muscle until his friend was within a foot of him. He sidestepped.
Poor Alan's battle cry was cut short as he rushed on by. Brion smiled sympathetically and slightly lowered his sword. It seemed his best friend hadn't practiced much this week afterall. If he wanted any remaining thread of friendship to hang by, he'd best cease his patronizing.
He watched as his friend clumsily turned and continued his rampage right towards him. But this time he didn't resist. Well, not byhisstandards at least. He held up his sword to block but held little power behind it. They clashed and Brion, after a few convincing moments of struggle, let his knees crumple beneath him.
He sprawled himself out on the ground and Alan pointed the dull point of his sword at his throat.
"See?" he gasped for air, "What did I tell you?"
Brion smiled, "Not bad Alan."
Satsified, Alan helped him up as their enthusiastic audience surrounded them. Brion felt many silent pats on the back and grinned good-naturedly as Alan began flaunting his victory.
It was just a play battle. For the time being, Brion would let him have it. Maybe the confidence would encourage him to work on his skill for once.
"You didn't have to do that, you know."
Brion turned to see Briana, a blonde-haired beaut closer to his standing, and smiled, "That wasn't the point."
"Hm," she mused, "Well good fight anyways. You should really find a more challenging opponent next time."
Brion smiled, "Nah. It wouldn't be near as fun. Besides, Alan needs someone to practice with."
She smirked and shook her head, "Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?"
He rubbed the back of his neck with a uneasy chuckle, deciding on a reply, when he heard his name once more.
He spun around at the voice of his sister, "Aislinn?"
She caught up to him and grabbed his wrist, "Father said to come get you."