Tenbare: Ten-`ba-re

Talice: `Tal-is

Besete: Be-`set-eh

Sylote: Sy-`lote

Satkin: A leather armor like vest, which is decretive in the front and has straps for weaponry on the back. It is commonly used for Nobles and peasants.

Halaven: hello or greetings.

Zaka: exclamation of unhappiness like darn or.... another word.... hehe.. ^.^

Note: This is Still a rough draft but I have got to at least put up the first chapter, before I leave for the summer. *shrugs* enjoy, and if you want me to post more, then let me know.

Chapter #1. And it began with blood.

The crowds cheering was defining,

The wind was hot it carried the smell of sweat and blood to the noses of every living creature for miles.

A brown cloaked figure

Pushed its way through the crowd to get a better look

Two figures moving at remarkable speed were fighting,

Their swords moved in fast graceful arcs of burning silver flashing as they cut through the air dripping with blood,

The musical clanging could not be drowned out by the half-crazed crowd. the brown cloaked figure looked at

Their oozing wounds, her eyes grew big "Zaka." She muttered "why am I so stupid."

She pulled her brown cloak tightly around her face, leaving only

Her icy eyes exposed.

She knew what could happen to her if she was recognized; she could be sold as a slave, or worse.

She shuddered as one warrior stabbed the other winning the round,

remaining the undefeated champion from the beginning of the six-week long Tournament.

He raised his sword in the air to show his victory it flashed for a moment before a ribbon of blood slipped over the only clean part of the blade.

He then left the arena to rest and let them clean the gore from the platform.

The sun was at its peak, and it was unbearably hot.

But she kept her cloak wrapped tightly about her face; she made her way to the warriors gate.

And was stopped by a guard.

"Name." He stated sounding bored "Tenbare" she croaked, hiding her feminine voice.

He stepped aside and let her pass,

she walked through the courtyard to her tent and closed the flap behind her.

She tossed back her cloak and pulled at the spikes of chin length sweaty hair that had been plastered to her brow.

She walked across the room, and stopped,

Catching her reflection in a shard of mirror, all

That was left of it from one of her tantrums. She frowned; her hair shone a dirty golden brown

Her cold green gray eyes scowled back at her from her pale mask like face,

She tore her gaze from the mirror and began to strap her weaponry to her leather Satkin,

She then wrapped strips of soft leather around her calloused blistered hands,

"As soon as I earn enough money I'll buy some leather gauntlets,

These blisters are becoming a distraction."

When she was finished she wrapped a piece of cloth around her nose and mouth creating a mask

Leaving again only her cold eyes exposed,

As a last touch she placed a leather head band over her hair to keep it out of her eyes,

She quickly tossed her brown cloak over her shoulders and walked out to face the hot windless day.

She walked quickly through the courtyard with her head down, not wanting to be noticed, People bustled past her.

She made her way through the clanking crowds of worriers to the gate and nodded to the guard who let her through with out

Question. She skimmed her way quickly to the seating section, and found a seat by the cool stone wall in the shadows.

They were almost done cleaning and repairing the arena.

"Halaven." Said a voice next to her head, out of habit she turned to look at the speaker and jumped in

Surprise, his head being very close to hers. Through the silence of his approach, his scars and celluloses she recognized him as


Warrior. " Forgive me for surprising you. My name is Sylot."

She bit her lip if she were to slip up even once she would be plunged into deep water, "Tenbare."

She croaked extending a hand, he took it, and she shook his hand firmly making the soft leather rub her

Blisters, she bit her lip "pain is weakness leaving the body, pain is weakness leaving the body," she repeated to herself silently so

As to not disturb Sylot. He looked her in the eye, turned pale and quickly looked down, "Haa!!!" She thought to herself as she

Smirked. "An unworthy adversary." She could tell by simply looking a man in the eye if he was above her, below her, or on her

Level a handy trait she had inherited from her father. " Have you already fought?" She croaked sounding perhaps a little to

Confident "No actually I will be fighting next."

She sat stiff " you are the winner of the last match?" She asked keeping her voice deep and rough the pride and certainty erased and replaced with firm inquisitive honesty. "Yes." He smiled she

Looked at him suddenly noticing his fresh wounds hidden under bandages she turned pale. She was going up against a champion.

He met her gaze and held it a cold smile filled with lion like confidence swaggered onto his lips.

He had fooled her. "They call your name" she said coolly with the roughness doubled to an almost ferocious level "So they

Do." He replied unworried keeping his eyes locked in hers. "But they call

For you as well." He stood, his eyes still grappling deeply into hers. She stood as well. Nether of them whished to look away for

Fear the other would think them a coward. He could have been looking through her with his azure eyes. So deep and sharply

Clear. A man ran up to the two "Sylot. They need you, did you not hear them call?" The man stated "come with me now, before

Your name is taken from the lists." Sylot stood for one more moment turned and walked off followed closely by the man.

At hearing the man mention things about being taken of the lists,

she ran to the gate that led into the platform. A man holding a large leather bound book stopped her "Name." He stated

(Almost sounding as bored as the guard that had stopped her at the worrier's gate) "Tenbare" she replied in her male sand

Paper voice. He looked her up and down. And inspected her weapons. "What are you doing?" She asked trying to sound

Casual. The man looked up at her as though she had suddenly sprouted two heads. "I am making sure you are not using

Poisoned weapons, it is a standard search." She frowned and replied as though she was always being inspected for poisoned

Weaponry "I thought there were no rules." The man snorted and shook his head

"That's what they all think, until they think they feel they have been treated wrongly. Poison on the weapons has been voted out, any

One who tries to fight with a poisoned weapon will be disqualified."

She glared at the ground, and unstrapped a blow dart gun from her Satkin.

"I suppose this would be thought of as a poisoned weapon." He grinned mockingly "yes sir I do suppose that would." He

Snatched it form her and set it on a table laden with Weapons its skinny legs were cracked from the massive weight of the

Thousands of weapons, that had been set there. He handed her a quill pen and asked her to sign her name, with out thinking she

Signed 'Zaka!!' she thought 'It would have been better to say you couldn't write, but of course you didn't think, you

Just plunged in head first.' she stomped off to wait for her turn. 'You know this is stupid' she continued her mental beating

'You could die today. Even though you have been working for years, one false move and you could die. Then you would have

Failed.' "Sylot, our undefeated champion will now be facing a new opponent from over seas the Tenbare." She jumped, shocked

Out of her little world form the mention of her name.

Sylot was already at the gate; she sprang forward and stepped in line behind

Him. The gate was opened and he made his way to the right side of the plat form, she walked to the left side, feeling aquard. The

Announcer began to speak in several different languages, the crowd cheered and booed. She inwardly rolled her eyes.

'They already have favorites' she looked up at the huge stone walls,

Rows and rows of rich balcony's greeted her eyes, taunting her, laughing at her. She gave Sylot a side

Ways glance. He was standing his sword unsheathed leaning on the hilt. The tip of his shining sword digging into the ground. He

Looked confident, too confident. She realize she was breathing hard, her face mask billowed out from her mouth when she exhaled

And plastered itself to her nose when she inhaled. 'No wonder he looks so confident, I look nervous.' she smiled mockingly at

Him. He raised one eyebrow and stared at her with his cold eyes. She looked away and thought to herself 'why do they speak so

Long? Do they whish for us to tire before we even begin?'

She could still feel his eyes even though she was ignoring him. Why did he stare a drop of sweat slid down?

Her for head she looked at him glaring back. She suddenly realized that the announcer had finished and every one was waiting

Breathless for them to begin. Sylot tugged his sword from the ground. And held it ready in his left hand. She smiled shrugged off

Her brown cloak tossing it out of the ring and reached behind to the back of her Satkin to the long weapons strapped there. She

Jerked off a short metal poll and held it in front of her reverently. Sylot looked a little shocked. He was about to move when she

Jerked the poll up and down it suddenly grew into a double bladed staff. She stepped forward, twirling the staff in graceful

Circles around her body, ending in a crouching stance, the staff held high in the air ready to dismember any thing that came

Within its path. She grinned wickedly, if she were to die, she would take him with her.

He simply smiled and moved forward, weaving intricate patterns in the air; his sword flashed a challenge in her face. Then

Suddenly he swung at her, there was a breathless moment, All sat at the edge of there seats waiting, straining there eyes to see if

He had scored. But her staff bit his blade half way to her chest. She twisted her staff the other way to deal him a quick blow to

The arm, she ripped his sleeve with out touching the blade to his skin. He pulled back shocked that his opponent had not given the

Hit. HE smiled and quickly made a slash to her arm cutting her he lunged but his sword met air she brought the flat of her blade

Down on his back he stumbled he sliced at Tenbare's feet

Legs and gut, but Tenbare jumped deflected and pulled back. He flipped to his feet making a quick double whack to both his

Opponents sides. She felt the burning pain at her side she deflected the second blow. "Zaka!" She hissed through her clenched

Jaw. She let lose a few bladed stars at him while she inspected her wound, her Satkin had been sliced in two But it had saved her from any internal damage a small trickle of blood made its way out of her Satkin, she pulled it off

and tossed it aside slipping a dirk form it and stashing it in her belt. She smiled and thought to her self 'thank God I'm not very well endowed

And I remembered to wear my leather over shirt for extra protection.' he flew at her viciously slicing at her arms legs and places

In-between. She twirled her bladed staff until it was a shield of fast moving blades his sword was deflected for half the blows

But he nicked her in a few places. Her bladed staff

Flew at him getting a square blow to his left leg. She looked quickly at her bleeding arms some of her nicks were actually pretty

Deep. He looked up at her, locking her into

His eyes he seemed to be digging for some secret. She glared ice shards back at him and pulled her blade from his leg she flipped

Back and stood staring at him, then before she knew what she was doing?

They ran at one another. She jerked her double bladed staff up. The bottom blade pulled back in, making a hand and a half broad

Sword. They met in the middle blade upon blade so hard that they were forced to spin. And there they stood face to face blade

To cold blade facing the opposite direction from were they had started. Both were breathing hard there eyes still locked in a

Death grip. Blood dripping from their opened wounds onto the platform "why are you here." Sylot whispered his voice sounding

Almost as cold as his eyes. "That is my business." Tenbare

Hissed back at him as a little bit of her blood spattered on the ground. "Who are you really?" He asked mockingly as sweat

Droops fell down his face. "I am myself, that's all you need to know." She spat back at him.

"Why don't you take off your mask?" He said cruelly. "Why don't you take off yours its hideous." She with venomous hate

Simmering in her eyes. "Here let me help you." He stated as he reached his hand forward. She stabbed him in the leg with her dirk he

Hissed in pain. "Or not." He mumbled as he backed away. Pulling the dirk from his already wounded leg. She held the tip of her

Sword to his nose. "Let's finish this shall we." She snickered "of coarse, ladies first." He sneered (meaning it of course as an insult but secretly she grinned). He threw the dirk at her head she

Deflected it with a swift flick of her sword he ran at her his sword aimed at her heart she swiped his sword away as he collided

With her landing on top of her raising a dust cloud. She kicked him off, with one sharp gesture. And flipped landing in a crouching

Position with her sword pointing out behind her. He flipped across the plat form and dealt a quick blow with his fist to her nose. She

Flew back several feet with a river of blood streaming from her nose and soaking her facemask. He made another swipe at her

Stomach she tightened her muscles absorbing most of the blow but she was a bit whinded she flipped over his head and made a slice at his back and kicked him on the back of the head. He turned

Swiftly and dealt a blow to her head with the flat of his sword. She fell in a crumpled mass of sweat and blood

But before she was lost to the dark world of a sleeping mind she sliced at his leg with her sword.

He stumbled kneeling at her side.

He was blacking out; he touched the shorn sleeve of his shirt. What did it mean? Confusion

Engulfed him. He spoke quickly "call for his Physician." A man spoke "Tenbare has no physician."

Sylot raised an eyebrow and thought to himself. ' He is to poor for a physician, his good name must have traveled far for him

To have been let into this tournament.' Sylot limped off the plat form thinking deeply followed by a stretcher carrying the

Unconscious warrior.