Welcome to Gaia! ::

The brief moment of calm reprieve ended rather abruptly. This was mere practice, nothing more than fun, and so they could enjoy such small liberties as taking a moment to enjoy the breeze... but the blood was still pumping and their blades were still drawn. Until this spar was concluded they should not let their minds wander far.

"En guarde!"

'En guarde yourself.'

Choices choices... a man on his guard was a difficult thing to strike from the front. A thrust was one of the most difficult types of strike to parry but one of the easiest to evade if timed properly. Maximos couldn't have expected it to strike true and was likely only using it to close the distance; with that in mind Joshua responded by stepping in as well-- with a quick shift of his footing the demon slid his right behind his left and stepped in; pivoting on the ball of his foot and lifting his heel as his hips and shoulders turned sideways, the tip of the shadow's blade touching for an instant to the exact place he had wanted it to on the left side of Joshua's chest before it cut a thin and shallow line of black from there to the right shoulder.

By the time Maximos completed his second step and Joshua completed his first they would meet in the middle; the half-dressed man using the clockwise turn his shoulders had started to snap down his left elbow onto the guarding forearm in order to force it down three to four inches or more. Then, bringing back the motion that he had just taken starting by pivoting his right foot back and planting the heel firmly upon the ground he pushed back; driving the force of his legs through realigned knees to torque his hips and turn his shoulders, a complete reversal of the core body rotation he had just done a moment ago ending by slamming the heel of his right palm into his left fist in order to drive his elbow backwards into the shadow's nose or chin with more speed and force than he would have been able to manage in the short distance his arm had to move.

At one time years ago Joshua had given the other reaper a one-inch black eye... today he would deliver a one-inch broken nose.

Already the wound beneath the black line on his chest was beginning to knit together again, and his rear foot would shove off from the ground again, preparing to follow-up his movement...

He would never cease to amaze. He would always bring another surprise. He would not... he could not disappoint. If given an inescapable situation he would not try to escape but would find a way to win even while trapped. That was the true essence of unpredictability, and that was why the shadow was the only person who could make him feel this way about a battle.

Joshua pivoted on his right foot in preparation for pushing forward but his preparation did not serve him; Maximos did not evade so Joshua could not pursue, Maximos was not blown back so Joshua could not advance, Maximos pushed through and Maximos advanced despite his damage - attacking the opening that is always left when an opponent goes on the offensive. His right foot raised but instead he was forced to step back onto it as the shadow drove forward further.

There is no such thing as a perfect offense and defense. Any time an attack is made it leaves an opening that can be exploited, but many times the only way to take advantage of that opportunity is simply to be more skilled. Their levels were too close for that though, so in exchange for skill Maximos chose to sacrifice his body.


Maximos had trapped his arm with that bothersome thing he wore grafted onto his shoulder, he had struck low knowing that the sword Joshua held in his hand would not be able to fend off his blade, and his attack would have been certain death to any mortal man... but he was not fighting a mortal man.

The defense was equally cold. Opening his left hand Joshua let the azure weapon fall... and then grasped it by the blade in a clenched fist. The shadow's weapon collided with the sword just above the crossguard and slid down into it, forcing the hilt bluntly against Joshua's exposed side as black blood ran down the crystal edge of the blade from the deep lacerations that were carved into his left hand from his own sword.

But this was not enough. This feeling was not nearly enough.

His fist clenched tighter around the blade's edges, his knuckles growing white as dark ichor welled up from between his fingers and overflowed across the scarcely clawed nails on his hand. His pointed teeth ground together forcefully as the demon's lips peeled back to their utmost limit in a fanged grin and the sound that issued forth from his throat was almost like a sigh... if a sigh could ever reflect the feeling of utmost exhilaration that was embodied in that grunt.

His knee turned again. His hips turned. His right palm swung in. And for the second time the heel of his hand slammed home into the knuckles of his left and delivered another jarring impact. The sound of dull cracking accompanied the impact, the blade's edge sinking into flesh and bone; scraping the skin and muscle from his fingers and digging in deeply to the heel of his hand.

...but the chisel was already set, it did not need to be placed against the stone again; all that remained was to swing the hammer again... and again... until the stone wall in front of him gave in.

The hammer struck the chisel once again, but the chisel met no resistance as the stone was already gone. Maximos had managed to move the impassable wall in the time that it took the hammer to strike, and the speed at which he moved and countered was nothing short of masterful. It was art. This battle itself was nothing short of a beautiful painting brushed in blood, but it was unfinished... there was not enough paint yet on the canvas.

More, more, more. Red blood, black blood, spattered and spilled it did not matter what it was as long as there was more of it for the artist to use.

Maximos spun quickly and razed his sword up the length of the azure blade in Joshua's grip, tearing through skin and flesh and bone alike in its path upward; barely scratching the back of the knuckles on his right hand but completely severing all of the fingers on his left at the second knuckle before carrying through even further through a few strands of hair-- The demon's right foot sliding back even deeper until his knee nearly touched the ground had dropped his stance enough to duck below the long sword's arc, and poised upon the balls of his feet he was already throwing himself forward to assault yet again as Maximos took a step back to clear the distance.

"Rushed? Not at all. When it's messy..."

There was no pause and no hesitation, the demon whipped down his hand only so that the black ichor from his severed fingers would run to the ends of his bloodied knuckles and then it lashed out again; charging underneath the high guard with the crystallized blood upon his left hand forming a jagged spike like the head of a spear where there had once been fingers. His right hand was raised up just beneath the guard of the shadow's sword as he rushed in, but his left... that spear launched straight at the Arian's exposed midsection.

"...it's all the more fun!"

Blood met blood; the hard and black spear was washed over with a new color as it plunged into open flesh, wetting the brush in red paint. But that splash of color did not remain, red did not bleed from the wound but instead a black ooze leaked from it... something that should not have been inside of a human body.

Though Joshua had never once expected his opponent to be human on the inside. Humanity was only skin deep, and if the surface is scratched away what one finds beneath it is the true form of a nightmare had by millions. Red was not the color of what was inside of Maximos Lucilien Dark, it was merely what flowed through his veins.

He stepped back just as the shadow did; the two mirror images of each other in that aspect alone because as the distance was made the long sword slashed upward through the space and the demon pulled his hand free of the other man's flesh. Black spattered upon the grass as a fingerless hand coated in red and black whipped back to his side, just as it did as the dark blade cut another shallow gash across the demon's chest to bisect the other.

Falling into a low stance afterward, Joshua spread his legs and dug his toes into the grass beneath him; a running black cross drawn upon his chest and a slow leak of dark blood that ran from a deep gouge on his jaw to the point of his chin and then fell in thick, dripping gobs. His left hand was held at his side, colored black to the wrist with sticky tar and with four bony fingers stained red at the tips as flesh and sinew began to crawl slowly up the lengths of them.

"Point."

Had this been a real battle he would have perhaps done things another way. That tar that crept through the shadow's body wouldn't have stopped him from ripping out an organ or two before the sword managed to drive him off. Even against an opponent like Maximos he was confident that at least one part of his human body would be on the ground before he was forced back. But this was not a real battle... their lethal intent with every attack was definitely not for show but this was a spar after all; this was practice.

"I claim a point from that. What's the score?"

"Or do we count the fingers? And then is that one, or five? That might bleed you out you know!"

"Fingers don't count and you know it," was the answer he got. "Flesh wounds don't count unless it includes an organ or an artery. If you're gonna try for bleeding points Walter gets final say on it."

Apparently somewhere along the line one of them had called for a time-out, because while a second ago they had been ready to slice each other open from head to toe they now stood there going over the rules and counting score; Joshua even counted off the fingers of his left hand as he went over the rules of their engagement one by one, unfolding fleshy digits that were still devoid of skin as he spoke.

"Oh dear, it looks like I'm behind. 'Certainly cant have that. I think its your turn, isnt it?"

"Heh, I suppose it is. Well then..."

His right foot slid through the grass underneath the crystal sword that had fallen to the ground beside where he sat now and kicked it up off the ground; catching it by the handle with his right hand and then tossing it with a spin into his left hand to bring the tip towards his opponent rather than the ground.

"En guarde!"

There were two steps between them but it would only take one before they were in range of each other's blades again. His first step was low, sliding his left foot forward with his body following behind it. The azure blade lashed diagonally from the lower right to the upper left but there was no subtlety or grace involved at all - it was a smash intended to hit fast and hard with no looking back. His right foot slid up behind the left at that and his left slid out again, shuffle-stepping forward a second time to press the distance between the fighters into extreme close range yet again.

Unlike what Maximos had done though, his right hand was not raised defensively but instead was at his side with the elbow pulled back and the palm up, crackling lightly with tiny arcs of crimson energy that lifted away from the skin.

The sound of the two blades crashing together was unlike what was expected of them; there was no metallic ring of steel against steel, but instead the lonesome cry of a single sword being struck against something solid and the sound of the other lacing itself through with fractures like a sheet of ice when too much weight was placed upon it.

'Tch. Forgot to reinforce it...'

The swords did indeed meet in the middle, each powerful slash impacting onto the other to lock the two weapons dead center between the southpaw swordsmen, but the azure blade that had been carried by the demon up until now had cracked and begun to break; chips flew from it at the moment of collision and a chunk of the tip broke off completely and turned to nothing more than glittering dust caught in the wind. Using weapons that he had made from his own condensed power was something new for him though, and the little details were hard to remember... things like 'this will break if it is not fed' slipped his mind. He had not put any energy into the weapon for a minute or so, and because of that its structure was weakened enough that the exchange had caused it to break apart.

No matter though... he could pull swords like that from Maximos' ear like a magician doing parlor tricks. All it took was a little energy and a moment of focus - neither of which he had at the moment. What he did have was a cocked back right arm that was--

His right hand shot across the short space between them; his advancing step and Maximos' own push had left them with little more than an arm's length between their bodies now, just enough room for a fast movement but not enough for a long blade. But what crossed that space happened so quickly that he would have missed it entirely if he hadn't been watching for it... not for Sha'yd to come out, but for Maximos' body to move. In extremely close combat visibility is low, body movements must be read to see the bigger picture as everything is connected and bones do not bend or flex like whips and snakes. The movement of Maximos' right shoulder told him that the shadow was about to make a movement and so he made one of his own.

If Joshua had seen the shortblade he may have thought that it was exquisite, but he could not see it. Instead he felt it, and he knew that it was exquisite from the way that the blade's keen edge cut effortlessly through skin and flesh as his right hand came across to intercept that blade in the short distance and push it outward to stab at the place beneath his arm instead of the target. It was as smooth as sliding a finger across ice, he met no resistance at all until he felt the shortblade's guard press against the side of his hand and wet it with black.

"Clever boy." was all he had the time to say. His right arm crackled with the energy that coursed through it but it would do him no good at the moment. There were two options that came to mind, but he only had time to perform one before that light and sharp shortblade that had just pushed past him made another movement. He chose to keep the arcing crimson energy bottled up.

With a fast movement turning his arm at the wrist the demon stepped wide onto his right foot and snapped both hands into motion at once; the left discarded his broken blade and instead reached across the other man's weapon, grasping for a fist full of his jacket's sleeve near the wrist; the right instead pulled back sharply, hooking the inside of Maximos' left elbow with the back of his hand. Both hands moved at the same moment, and both applied force to Maximos' arm in opposite directions at either end of the forearm... in an instant Joshua would pull the sword-bearing arm forward and push the elbow back by pressing the back of his right hand into it until it was back far enough for him to roll the elbow joint across his knuckles and press straight up with the heel of his hand-- combined with a fast kick to the inside of the leading left foot with Joshua's own the fast movement should have sent the shadow a**-end-first into the ground by throwing him over his own shoulder.

Of course, things rarely go according to plan when fighting Maximos Lucilien Dark.

(( I've finally realized why backreading our old fights makes no sense at all to me... it's because whenever we misread and misreply to something, instead of making a statement to correct it we just roll forward. Which makes it so confusing to read after-the-fact when MSN conversations can't be immediately brought to mind.

To continue that tradition - rolling with your interpretation. ))





One cannot ever start a sentence with 'if there was one danger to look out for' when dealing with the shadow, because there is never only one danger... He has many weapons, he has many tools, and his scent for blood is keener than the most vicious predator. If at any time in dealing with the shadow the thought occurs that he is only dangerous in certain ways or under certain conditions it is entirely possible that the person thinking it is already dead and just hasn't realized it yet.

Joshua knew that the small blade was a danger but he could not remain focused upon it, because defending only against the shortblade would only leave him defenseless in other areas; to place his hands upon the shadow and move his body instead of restraining the arm that held the blade Joshua was leaving himself open and he knew it - it was a gamble of whether or not he would be able to perform the maneuver faster than Sha'yd would be able to respond to him; a wager that keeping Maximos' own body between himself and the weapon would provide a measure of protection for that brief moment that the movement took to execute. He was wrong--

-- dead wrong.

The shadow's quick movement brought the weapon to become a threat much more quickly than the demon had anticipated and with a swift, precise, and dare-to-say even surgical insertion of the blade between flesh and bone, stopping the movement halfway. It was questionable as to whether or not there was any pain involved at all, Sha'yd was the very definition of sharp and the nerves were attacked directly, the wound did not even seem to bleed as the incision was so clean; if he had not seen it coming for that instant before it happened he might not have even noticed the wound until his legs stopped responding to him. It was a clean cut, he could heal it in the blink of an eye as he had done with so many others... but the blade was not removed. No injury could be healed if the weapon that caused it was still there, no matter whether his power was disrupted by it or not. For the moment, the whole thing coming down on his head was unavoidable.

The momentum remained but there was nothing to support the weight of one body atop another and both came crashing down with Maximos on top and the other man on the bottom, face-down in the grass and dirt with the shadow practically pressing him into the ground.

"Point! That has to be a point!"

"Hell." Even from one word passing his lips the demon could taste the blood on his breath and he knew that the wound was deep and high enough to have slit through the sides of his lungs as well. "1-1... Nice sword though, is it new?"

By the time the question trailed out he was already gone from beneath Maximos though; sinking down into the earth with barely a disturbance as if it were a pool of water instead, and sliding off the end of the shortblade with just as much resistance... leaving the shadow laying in the grass with a bloodied sword plunged inches into the dirt.

Tie game... for now.

But Joshua was already gone. Of course he was. That was the nature of the beast. Razliek was chaos given purpose. Like a force of nature, he was unpredictable, turning even the expected into the unexpected and back into exactly what you always knew was going to happen...what he had likely told you would happen, but which you now found yourself powerless to stop. The only constant in the demon prince was that no matter the form, function, or strategy his purpose was achieved. The furthest extent possible. And with nothing short of excellence.

Maximos was already on his feel. He answered his own sentence with an affirming, sobering word. "Right."

Maximos, quite literally, had no idea what to expect. His eyes scanned the ground, back and forth, quickly but evenly. Joshua had never presented earth elemental powers before. This had to be something else. And yet there was no chance it was an illusion, that was to far out of the demon's style and impossible to slip past the Shadow's right eye. Maximos was clueless in a way no one else had managed to make him, and he absolutely loved every suspenseful second of it.

If Joshua could sink below, Maximos could rise above. A small burst of essence moved to his boots making the lunaic stitching set in the leather glow a faint purple. It was not enough to fly, but it was enough to leap if need be. He brought up Sha'yd defensively, close to his chest and held his longsword out to his left side, ready to strike. And then, with an amused smirk on his face he said. "Come out...come out...wherever you are..."



Teira's pain was something that unsettled him of course, but it was a necessary thing if she was to attain what he saw dawning over her now. Understanding. Understanding was knowledge was experience was growth. Growth was always worth the pain. Even if a part of him hurt that it was his mistake that caused her this pain. It worked out if she understood. This understanding was a double edged sword however. She would know why he did what he did, and she would know just as well why he was doing, what he was doing. That if he kept things from her, then he was keeping things from her.

And with that came the Shadow's apprehension that she might ask. But to his pleasant surprise she never did. He continued his lesson, his mismatched eyes on hers as she sounded out each word. He made no motion to correct her mistake, she had caught it before he could. And when she finished the small phrase he nodded his head and said. "Well done."

Its not that Arian was a supernaturally difficult language. Maximos just never spoke it, and had no accent and so it left the words alien to the tongue. But Teira had graced them well enough.

""Thank you, Nii-chan." " She said, and Maximos politely nodded. Such was the way with children, falling, rising, and eventually walking on their own, and away. She seemed ready to perform her formal apology when suddenly instead she stepped toward him. Maximos' eyebrow cocked. Almost in response her hand found the side of his face. There was something new in her eyes, something he could only see now in the dim light and that made him smile, albeit a tired sort of thing. Teira had not committed a wrong and crumpled into it and down to the ground. She had done wrong, and was making steps to fix it. He saw the fire in her eyes, a blaze set to fuel the woman to...something, somewhere. In that same moment he realized how very little he had come to know of her heart's desires since she vanished.

But such was not the cause of the wear on his face or the reason his smile did not stretch all the way to his eyes. And then... "Ego sum rumas, Nii-chan."

He had never stated an insult to himself. He had never listed himself as deserving of an apology even if that was what custom demanded. Maximos was never the sort to place such value in a name, and yet there it was. Teira had stepped beyond what was expected her, she moved an extra step, and in doing so showed the truth of the apology in her heart. He laughed very lightly, and as any big brother might he ruffled her hair and finally met her eyes. His eyes belying his smile, adding the weight to his words as he said. "Totas venia et, noctfilia."

And provided no translation. And then she was off. He smiled softly as she stepped away. She did not explain, and neither did she need to. It was funny though, as she turned the corner and shuffled off down the hall, he could not help but see the scared and curious little girl shuffling to his side as she was lead down a similar hall to the dining room for the first time. Max turned away and began slicing at the shadows once more.



In the Hall, there was silence. While it was likely understood that if the Brother's could place their voices in her head they could speak any time, and likely read her mind...they were completely silent. There was a spark in magical weapons like these, they felt alive in your hand. When one grasped their hilts it felt as if they might leap out of from their finger-prison and fight on their own. When they were swung, they swung with the wielder. They added a sense of unseen and ineffable partnership.

But for Teira, they deliberately felt like very fancy, very large, kitchen knives. As personal as anything you might find in a department store. As alive as that same cold, food grade steel. In view of what they were meant to be, and how they felt during their reveal, they felt especially cold. It was like placing your hand in the flame, and feeling it freeze you instead. They were just swords, the Brother's had meant their words, she would earn everything.

They were set down, and their hilt-borne eyes were cold and dull but at their name sparked into golden life. There was no light in Shadow Island and so to say an area became dark was non-sensical. One could say that the darkness moved in the same way shapes move beneath the ocean waves, it crawled against the wall and then the brother and black pulled himself through that aberation. Lengths of black clinging to his form before he stepped down and beside himself.

While there was no light, in certain area's such as entrances hall lamps were placed to signify a doorway. They were made of an imperial blue shadow flame, casting no light so much as moving darkness away so as to allow vision. It was one of these lights nearest Teira that ignited furiously. Its flames scorched a path up the wall as it moved from simple candle light to an towering inferno. The core of the fire was red and orange as normal flame should be, and then just as suddenly and furiously it exploded in a flash of blue, and purple, and red and orange. And as the ash settled, there stood the brother in red. Like his kin in black he stood beside himself. Even though their hands and arms were undefined and dark, they stood with their arms crossed. It was visible by the way their hooded cloaks moved around them and down their shoulders.

They said nothing. But they were listening.