The Dork and the Dragon
You wouldn't think that on a bright, sunny day in the middle of May, there would be a struggle of life and death. Nor would you think that such a struggle would happen in the middle of an otherwise peaceful glen.
Two men stood in the middle of said glen, both of them facing each other, both with swords in their sheaths, and both with dark, raven colored hair.
One of them was scratched up, beaten, and bruised. He had a scar right below his left eye, matching the bleeding wounds on his arms and the cut on his shoulder that had made his sleeve start to tear away. His dark hair was tussled so badly that it looked like it had never met a hairbrush. He had piercing golden brown eyes that were currently glaring at his opponent, who looked as though he had just come from a day at the spa.
The ridiculously clean one smirked, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Well, Percival?" he said lightly. "What say you?"
Percival looked down from his glimmering sword that was currently in its sheath and back up to meet his enemy's cold green eyes, and he drew his sword. "That sword does not belong to a coward and thief like you are, Wolfgang," he growled, "It belongs inside the monastery!" And with that, he lunged at the enemy and the duel began.
Wolfgang moved with graceful skill, avoiding each fatal blow with the glimmering sword he held in his strong hands. Percival was a fierce warrior whose greatest strength was offense. His own sword clashed with Wolfgang's, but he was at a clear disadvantage, not only because of Wolfgang's quick reflexes, but because the sword instinctively knew where Percival was going to strike next.
Wolfgang grew tired of defending him and his sword and so, ducking beneath Percival's blade, he lifted his own and flung out at Percival's cheek, grazing him ever so slightly before Percival ducked down and spun around on his legs, causing Wolfgang to stumble, but that was all Percival needed. He stabbed up behind the blade into Wolfgang's left side, and the sword that Percival was fighting so desperately for fell to the ground. Percival grabbed it hastily, and looked down at his defeated foe.
Wolfgang had collapsed to his knees, his sword hand clutching at the side that had been hit, and he looked up at the other with such a look of agony that it sent shivers up and down Percival's spine. "So you just leave me here to die?"
Percival sneered, "Well, that is the basic point of a duel of good and evil." He was holding Wolfgang's sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning white.
Wolfgang closed his eyes. "And you say… I'm the coward…" he breathed. He fell, almost slowly, to the ground underneath him, the darkness taking him under its wing.
Percival simply frowned and turned around, walking steadfastly to the kingdom for which he had battled so intensely.
Just a little something to let you know I'm still alive. :) Of course, my priority is still Fine Line, so I probably won't update this very often.
And now, marble cake!