Chapter 19: An Even Friendlier Spar

Smile. Continue smiling.

Cry. Continue Crying.

So many ups and downs in a life.

If only I could go back and make the most of them, I would.

-The Sin-Bearer

The engagement began in less than a blink of an eye. One moment, Hunter Flara stood circling around Leaping Fox, and in the next moment, she had already closed the distance. A flashing arc that cut across the stomach.

A step backward to regain his distance and range, Leaping Fox entered into a parry. The two weapons clashed for a brief moment before another dagger came flying toward his open side. Immediately noticing the danger of close combat, Leaping Fox retreated backward, breaking off from the clash.

But there was not even one moment of respite given. He only had time to enter into a Higher Guarded Stance before Flara closed the distance once more, her two Half-Moon daggers making quick sweeping motions that left a blurry trail of black metal.

Each time Leaping Fox parried a dagger, another came toward his opened side, forcing him to retreat. He was disadvantaged, given not even one second to regain his bearings.

Parries. Blocking with the shaft of the blade-spear. Evades. More parries.

The two Hunters danced across the courtyard, and as the sun reached went further past its apex, their shadows shortened, following along like shadows do. Scarlet hair flashing, a cheerful grin on her face. Jet-black hair flashing, a concentrated frown on his face. It showed just how hard-pressed Brother Leaping Fox was, fighting against a style which he had never fought before.

I could see the furrowing of his brows, the concentration flashing in his eyes as he deftly blocked, parried, and evaded. Another retreat. A follow-up from his opponent. There would be no escape.

Then a quick switch to a one-handed grip on the blade-spear. Knowing that he could not break the pace of the battle by just defending, Leaping Fox made a huge jump backward, swiftly proceeding into a crouch. Still crouched, his blade-spear arched across into a huge sweeping motion. Sweeping Full Moon.

The surprise on her face was visible as the blade-spear made to cut across her legs. Faced with no choice, Flara retreated backward. Her Half-Moon daggers couldn’t have countered the powerful Sweeping Full Moon and had she jumped upward, she would have been left vulnerable in the air.

The second that was gained from her retreat was fully used by Leaping Fox. He switched into an Assailing Stance and began his counterattacks, making use of his full range. Full arcs. Full Moon. Wide arcs. Whirlwind. Sweeping motions. All of it from the longest range possible and backed with the entirety of his strength.

It was costly in terms of energy and stamina, tiring to utilize your full strength in such long range attacks. The full strength was needed so that Flara could not counter by blocking or parrying the blade-spear. She could only be forced to retreat and evade.

Like a leaf being led by the wind, Flara was forced to dance around, the blade-spear leading her movements. She was like a cat on hot sand, jumping around here and there, furiously evading.

It was a precarious situation. One wrong evasion, one late timing and there would be fatal wounds. If she fell prey to the sweeping motions, she would lose her legs instantly. And if she fell prey to the dancing wide arcs that cut across her upper body, she would lose an arm or even entertain a deep laceration.

Brother Leaping Fox gave no respite. He put everything he had into his attacks. From a spar, it had turned into a full fledged battle.

The grin on her face was erased, turning into a gritting of her teeth as she dodged left and right, side-stepping narrowly and retreating. They continued these exchanges for a few minutes. And as time passed, I could see the breaths on both of them coming harder and faster, the sweat falling down their foreheads.

Another sweep from Leaping Fox, but this time Flara went still, not retreating. She switched her grips on the hilts of her Half-Moon daggers, turning them around so that she held them like a short sword with the curved edge pointing downward. Stepping in, she slammed both of her weapons down onto shaft of the blade-spear, the points of the curved edges digging deep into the earthen ground, locking the body of the blade-spear in place.

Leaping Fox grunted, trying to break free of the block, while Flara exerted her strength into pressing down the blade-spear. They were both at a standstill as one attempted to imprison and the other attempted to break free. The spar soon devolved into a contest of strength.

A red curl of a smile blossomed on her face and Flara instantly released her grip on her weapons. She charged forward, surprising Leaping Fox. The surprise lasted only for a brief half second, before Leaping Fox also released the handle of his blade-spear.

Leaping Fox quickly blocked the incoming kick with an arm. But it was an immediate regret for him as he withheld the pain with a small grimace. A kick was definitely not suitable to block with an arm, especially a kick that had gained momentum from a whirl. There had been no time to block it with a kick of his own, however, so it was his next best choice.

The contest once more devolved. Now it was an all-out brawl. Proceeding immediately from that block, Leaping Fox entered into a kick of his own to block another incoming kick. They flowed from punches to kicks to sweeps and to even head-butting one another.

After that exchange of headbutts, they rubbed at their soon to be bruises, glaring at each other, a slight curving on both of their lips. In a few minutes, they would have the colors to show for them.

Then they began once more. They traded fists and kicks, blow for blow.

I even winced at some of their exchanges. Even my two Brothers did.

A kick in the stomach traded for a palm strike against the face. Brother Leaping Fox ate the latter strike and Flara ate the former.

A jumping knee-kick that was initiated by Flara which was caught by Leaping Fox who proceeded to catch it, whirling her around half a circle before throwing her. She hit the ground with a hard thud, but recovered quickly.

Vengeance for that throw came with double payback. A sweeping kick connected and Leaping Fox fell sideways, but before he even had a chance to fall down, a kick with the other leg came flying toward his chest.

He flew far and wide from the force of the kick. And dirt was thrown up from the earthen floor of the courtyard.

The exchanges became more and more furious as the fight grew longer. It was not even a brawl now. The spar had devolved into a punch for a punch, a kick for a kick. It was a matter of determination and endurance.

Were it me, I would have long given up. It was just not worth it, speaking from a practical and pain-free position.

“You aren’t half bad, Brother Leaping Fox,” Sister Flara said grudgingly between a few breaths. They had been fighting continuously for more than ten minutes. And though that ten minutes may not have seemed like much, but the concentration in a fight takes a toll far heavier than running for a few hours.

“Neither are you, Sister Flara,” Leaping Fox replied. “Shall we call it a tie? I think I have enough bruises already.”

Her hands formed into fists, opening and closing for a few seconds. There was an amused smile on her face. “Did you know, Brother Fox, that I have the abilities Determination and Versatile?” Her body tensed and her face became hard, concentrated upon her opponent. Even from here, I could feel the determination sweating off from her.

Leaping Fox shot a helpless look toward us. Again, I twirled my blade-spear in response. Then I extended my blade-ridges as if to say why not fight with them. Leaping Fox shot me a look that asked if I was insane.

I chuckled softly. In a spar, we usually avoided fighting with blade-ridges as that would be multiple times more dangerous. And blade-ridges would take longer to heal. “Looks like Brother Leaping Fox is having some troubles.” I shot a curious look toward Brother Ronat. “Say, what did he bribe you with to make you agree to this anyway?”

“Just for relief,” Brother Ronat simply replied. “I knew his mouth would be the doom of him.”

I turned my attention once more on the courtyard. The two opponents were now exchanging flurry of fists, weaving left and right. A few more minutes passed by before Brother Leaping Fox finally raised his hands in defeat. He had simply grown tired of the sparring that seemed to go nowhere.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Flara frowned at his surrender. “That’s no fun, Brother Leaping Fox.”

“Consider it your win,” he said. “Your determination is too much for me.” He plastered his usual grin onto his face. “In addition, your body is pretty good.”

A double meaning? I wasn’t too sure. The thoughts of Brother Leaping Fox were too complicated to contemplate.

“I will take that as a compliment,” Flara said, returning to her group in an easy walk. There was a look of dissatisfaction on her face. Dissatisfaction at winning too easily.

The afternoon ended on that note when Hunter returned. There was a hint of dark worries on his face and in his eyes. You could tell from how the usual amusement in his eyes had fled from the slight angling of his brows. They were not noticeable signs, but once you have been with an individual for many years, you start to notice the small things.

There were no more spars after that and we had gotten some measures of each other’s capabilities. We all called it a day, and Brother Hidden Shade was satisfied after learning that we would accompany their hunts by riding on the Vulcans.

If Brother Hidden Shade hadn’t received his end of the deal, it was likely that he have went out and challenged the female Demona Hunters into a bet. A bet to lend their Vulcans to him.

To each their own motivations, I suppose.

========

In the two weeks that passed by before the Night Sky tribe arrived, we quickly settled into a routine. In the morning, we would accompany the Sun Cherishers on a hunt and in the afternoon, we would tour their village. But even after the two weeks, the place still remained a veritable maze.

As was expected, we didn’t do well in the hunts. There were various reasons for that. We weren’t too familiar with the Valley of Suns. Our expertise was also different from theirs. We had never had any practice shooting with a bow from atop a Vulcan.

Sure, our training included various ranged weapons, but the focus was mainly on the blade-spears, throwing daggers, and setting up traps. However, Brother Leaping Fox with his ability to aim far and true did quite well.

The beasts in the Valley of Suns were interesting creatures. We hunted a various assortment of prey, including birds and animals which traveled in herds. Let me tell you. If you have never hunted prey in the air while riding a Vulcan that could travel the whole of the northern forests in just a day, then that is great for you. I have found the experience to be less than satisfactory. I had accidentally plucked a feather from the Vulcan on my first ride and almost obtained a free lesson in crashing into a tree.

Nothing is ever truly free though—that free lesson would have certainly come with pain bordering on the possibility of death.

The herd animals were also dangerous. Kill one of them, and they would all retaliate. Having more than one hundred Yalors chase you across the swathe of a valley, through its ups and downs, was not my idea of fun. But that kind of game was just one among the many favorite pastimes of the Sun Cherishers Hunters.

In the end, I never called them out on their flawed idea of what constitutes as fun. Fifty Sun Cherisher Hunters with their flawed ideas of fun against my sole idea of fun was not a situation I dare even contemplate happening.

In my exploration of the village, I also discovered a few fields of colorful plants and flowers behind the building which we lived in. A field of Caranathus and a few flowers which I did not recognize. Pink, yellow, red, blue, violet. There was a whole spectrum of colors spotted in those fields.

The Roost Towers were also interesting buildings. The structures were made extensively with opened windows every few floors. There was also a spiraling staircase that sprouted from the middle of the tower, leading all the way to the top of the roof. In these floors, there would be the nests of Vulcans and their eggs.

Hidden Shade, undoubtedly, was the most excited one in these visits to the Roost Towers. I even had to follow him around to make sure he didn’t accidentally take any eggs out of excitement.

I must admit though, Brother Hidden Shade had a way with animals and beasts. The Vulcans immediately warmed up to him, like a bird taking to air, like a duck taking to water. The little ones even followed him around like little ducklings following a mother duck. The scenes even impressed the Sun Cherishers who had worked with the Vulcans all their lives.

And like always, there came the side comment from Brother Leaping Fox.

“Well, Brother Hidden Shade,” he said, pointing at a female Vulcan. It was easy to tell the male and females apart. On the female Vulcans, there was a crown of colorful feathers surrounding their necks. “My years of experience seem to tell me that this female Vulcan over there has a predatory look in her eyes for you.” Leaping Fox arched a brow toward Hidden Shade. “If you know what I mean.”

I joined in. Even I could not resist the temptation, the lull of “mockhood.” Nodding my head, I said, “There does seem to be an excited light in her eyes. Be very careful, Brother Hidden Shade. I would not want to lose you to a Vulcan.”

Like always—well, mostly always, Brother Hidden Shade took it in good strides. He ignored us, and continued rubbing at the feathers of the Vulcans.

When the Night Sky tribe arrived, the sun had just woken up alongside us. Their Hunters came dressed in shades of black, wearing black slacks and a lighter colored hooded mantle that covered only their shoulders and faces, leaving their chests bare.

From my observations, the only weapons they appeared to use were these gauntlets with one large blade protruding from the knuckles, a bow hung on their backs or carried in one easy hand, and an assortment of pouches. I held no doubts that the pouches held many objects which I did not know of.

When their hoods came off, it took much effort to hold in my surprise, especially with Brother Leaping Fox beside me.

“Well, I certainly would not want to join their tribe,” Leaping Fox said. A hand moved upward to smooth his long hair. “Baldness is not a great fit for me. It cuts away half of my handsomeness. The ladies of our tribe would go sulk in the corners of their rooms if I did that.”

“I certainly agree with you on that point,” I replied. “Not the latter points of course, but the former.”

“Search deep in your heart, Brother, and you will know the latter points to be true also.”

Baldness may have been the reason for my Brother’s surprise. But strictly speaking, mine was more practical. There were runic markings on both their faces and their heads. I winced in pain for them. It must have been an agony. I would not recommend anyone to undergo Eraiteis on their faces.

We whispered our observations back and forth to each other, while Brother Ronat and Hidden Shade added in a few thoughts of their own.

“Fashion aside, the practicality of having runic markings on their faces is not half bad. It will toughen your face,” Hidden Shade added.

“What if one would like to reserve the face for the softer matters of life?” Leaping Fox asked.

I frowned at that. “Is that even a phrase?”

“It is now,” he replied.

“What does it even mean?” Hidden Shade asked with a somewhat curious look. “I have a feeling of what it means, but it never hurts to make sure.”

“Well,” Leaping Fox stared. “I suppose it could be construed as the harder matters of life also.”

“I see,” Hidden Shade dully said.

Luckily, we were all too far away to be heard by the Night Sky Hunters else we would have received glares.

What I didn’t know that morning was that with the arrival of the Night Sky Hunters and their lead Hunger, they also brought with them a special kind of foreboding and an incident that would change me for the rest of my life, thus forever closing off some paths in the many roads which an individual could travel in his or her life.

I had observed the beginnings of the incident. Tidbits here and there, but I had never truly connected these observations, these passing curiosities.

Funny how others call me perceptive, yet all the perceptiveness in me could not have warned me of the incident that had crept up so slowly upon me.