Labels: Biography
Riane took her time getting out of bed. The sun was pouring in through her window even though it was only eight in the morning. Ah the pains of having an east-facing window. She stretched, rolled out of bed and grabbed her bathrobe as she made her way to her bathroom. She had just…what did the locals call it…”gotten into town” just a few weeks ago and was still floundering around in this new country called
After taking a quick shower, she glanced at herself just as she was towel-drying her hair. She didn’t think so, but she was so absolutely stunning that she didn’t even have to fuss about such a thing as makeup. She wasn’t too tall, but she held herself in such a poised, elegant way that people would think she was six feet tall. Long auburn hair flowed down just past her shoulders, framing a suntanned, weather-beaten face with a smile that seemed like it could light up the
She was just running out there door when she caught a glimpse of something in her closet and thought: “Hmm…it wouldn’t do if I forgot to bring that along, would it?”
Labels: Sword Symphony Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The reigning saber champion had just been challenged to a friendly match by one of the freshmen. All of the fencers had scoffed when the challenge was issued. They always lost to Ian, no matter how hard they tried, and started betting on the number of blows the freshman would be able to fend off before Ian scored a touch. He was, after all, attending the school on a fencing scholarship.
The ring of steel meeting steel now echoed through the halls. Jaws dropped as each parried the other’s blows to follow with a sharp riposte, answered almost immediately by a counter-riposte. One of the seniors jabbed his younger sister in the side, who was also a freshman. “D’you know who that new guy is?”
She shrugged. “Just moved in yesterday from what I heard. His dorm’s just down the hall from mine. Lives in a double by himself from what I could see. Kinda cute too…” Her brother just rolled his eyes and continued to watch the two exchange swift, furious blows.
That was the beauty of the saber discipline of fencing. It wasn’t as limiting as the foil, which only allowed you to use the point of the foil and you weren’t allowed to strike the opponent’s head; nor was it as slow and calculated as the epée, which allowed you to strike anywhere on the body (once again, with only the tip of the foil), but its competitors spent so much time on the defensive that it was just too boring to watch.
Saber, on the other hand, was the exact opposite of epée. You could score hits with the point as well as both edges of the saber, but you could only strike anywhere from the waist up. This was modeled after the days of the traditional cavalry, where the upper body was the only feasible target.
Ian was enjoying himself. He hadn’t had this much fun fencing in a while and this guy was as good as he was (and that was saying something). He dodged an overhead swing and lunged forward, striking his opponent in the chest. The buzzer sounded as his opponent’s vest registered the hit. “Touché!” said the fencing coach, who was just as amazed at this newcomer’s skill.
“The score is now 3 to 3. Next touch wins. Fencers to your starting positions. En garde! Prêts? Allez!”
Ian wasn’t quite ready for the immediate lunge. Gasping slightly, he parried carelessly and almost lost his balance. He recovered his wits and rebalanced his weight by taking a couple of bounds back, making some space between the two of them at the same time. He lunged forward, with his signature move in mind as he was determined to end it before the match got totally out of hand. This renowned move was a swift vertical slash that hi a lot harder than it looked like it would because all the power came from the wrist, followed by a quick thrust forward into his opponent’s chest while the opposing saber was deflected away from the force of the blow. He went for the overhead strike.
His opponent threw up his saber to block. “You’re mine,” Ian thought.
At the last split second, his opponent dipped his knees into a kneeling position, right knee almost touching the ground, ready to absorb the force of the blow. When Ian’s blade finally crossed his, the force from the strike didn’t hit as hard as Ian had intended it to. The other saber parried easily and at the same time, his opponent disarmed him with a flick of the wrist.
This all happened so quickly that the only thing his brain immediately registered was his coach shouting “Touché!” and the silence that followed the proclamation.
His opponent removed his helmet, and handed Ian his saber back. “Nice move.”
Ian removed his helmet as well and they both shook hands. “Superb counter. Good match.” He paused for a second. “I don’t think I caught your name…”
“My name’s Ryan. It’s a pleasure to have met and crossed blades with you, Ian.” With that, Ryan set off towards the changing room while everyone else just continued to watch in awe.
Labels: Sword Symphony Chapter 1
Labels: SNCO, Stomach flu
Labels: Mendelssohn, Random, Summary
Prologue
The wind howled through the trees, rustling as if possessed in the dead of night. Rain had been pelting on the park’s open field for the past few hours. The wet soil left no trace of the events that had happened earlier that day: dogs running around happily, couples having picnics under the warm sun, and the marks of young teenagers thoughtlessly playing soccer on the grass…no trace at all.
The clouds hid any light the moon would have shed on that park. The flowers that grew in their brilliant colors were muted viciously and mercilessly in the darkness. A beautiful park had become a desolate graveyard in just a few hours.
Lightning flashes as the wind picked up and howled loudly. In that brief moment, if anyone had been there, a dark, tall figure would have been visible in that light.
A young man. So unsuspecting and so free. Caught in the rain after a long day at work and desperately running homeward. The shortcut across the park. Across the field. “Fastest way home,” he assured himself.
Another flash of lightning illuminated the night, this time a large crack of thunder followed almost immediately. The young man stumbled, but nothing was going to deter him. He had just finished his last day of work at a camp for the summer and he was going home to his family for the first time in months. The train home had already been late and by the time he got back to his town, he was ready to just run home even though he had heard the rumbling of an impending storm as he had set off.
Just as he had almost crossed the field, he caught sight of that hooded figure by the light of a timely lightning flash. Despite his haste, he paused to see if that person needed any help. Someone who was just standing stock-still in that manner in this kind of storm was probably in need of assistance, thought the young Samaritan. Thus, thinking in this way, he ran over to where he had seen the figure.
The rain had let up a bit, but even so, the field was as dark as ever because there were no lights in the surrounding area. The earth had proven too difficult (even with machines) to dig through to lay down power lines and erect lights, so the constructors had simply just built around it. The light from the closest lamp illuminated the outline of the figure’s billowing black cloak.
Just as the young man approached, the figure seemed to sense the movement behind and spun about quickly. Blazing blue eyes bore into his, the intensity between them as charged as the lightning strikes far above them. In that split second, he blinked and the figure was gone.
The weather lightened up almost immediately, leaving the young man standing there, stunned and wondering what had just happened. Convincing himself he had been imagining things, he set off towards home again, aided by the crescent of the moon that had just peeked itself out through the clouds.
Labels: Sword Symphony Prologue