The Fight

Evran's silver longsword glinted in the skylight as he drew the weapon from its sheath. His muscles bulged with essence as he adopted a battle stance and held his sword in front of him. Dyrk meanwhile thrusted his arm to the side. A golden glow emanated from his hand as a longsword, that mirrored Evran's own one, materialized in it. Unlike Marie, Dyrk hadn't divulged the abilities of his sword to Evran. He had also noticed that a grey aura had started flowing from Dyrk's body, encompassing him.

Silence fell over them as they sized each other up. The tension in the air was palpable. Evran's time fighting in arenas had given him plenty of experience at reading an opponent and gauging their strength. As much as he hated to admit it, Dyrk wasn't going to be easy to beat.

Gilderick's voice cut through the silence like a knife, "Alright you may begin!"

They both charged forward, meeting each other halfway. Their blades clashed together causing sparks to fly off them. A mix of black and grey essence swirled around them as both men grunted with effort, pushing back with everything they had. Knowing that their strengths were equal, Evran leaped backwards away from Dyrk. Dyrk stumbled forward as he was caught completely unaware by the sudden disengagement. With practiced ease Evran spun around and landed a painful kick to Dyrk's head. Evran expected this to at least daze him but instead Dyrk grabbed Evran's leg and forced him to the ground. Before Evran could recover Dyrk stood over him with his sword held high ready to strike.

But before he could, Evran propelled a foot into Dyrk's manhood, sending him reeling backwards clutching his pride. Evran quickly scrambled to his feet, holding his sword once again. Dyrk quickly recovered though a furious expression now was plastered across his features.

Evran noticed that Dyrk's essence had started flowing into his sword. What was he doing?

With renewed vigor Dyrk rushed forward. Evran prepared for another attack when suddenly his vision went black. All sound vanished, leaving only darkness. Evran knew that he was still conscious, but he couldn't see or hear anything. Was this Dyrk's ability?

With a sudden realisation, Evran knew that Dyrk had charged at him before. He needed to move out of the way, or he would get pinned down again. With quick reflexes he rolled to the side. He kept moving backwards until he hit something hard and stopped. He felt hard wood behind him. Did he crash into the shack?

But he would have no time to think, Dyrk would soon be upon him.

The sound of gushing wind surprised Evran as he heard it. His hearing had returned to him abruptly. He also heard the sounds of heavy ragged breathing a few feet ahead of him. It sounded like Dyrk was exhausted already. Evran pointed his sword in the direction of where he had last heard him. He heard Dyrk's footsteps halt to a stop.

"You can hear? Gods be damned! It's nearly worn out!"

Evran heard Dyrk start to charge again. But Evran didn't wait. He jumped forward and swung his sword down in an overhead swing.

Metal clashed against metal as he heard Dyrk curse under his breath. Evran pressed forwards, driving Dyrk steadily back. In desperation, Dyrk tried to push back with his blade but his exhaustion prevented him from gaining any traction.

Evran's eyesight returned to normal just in time to catch sight of Dyrk fall to one knee. Evran gritted his teeth as he tried and tried to force Dyrk down but he refused to budge. He needed to end this quickly, he could feel himself running low on essence.

A sudden idea popped into his mind.

He gathered the remaining amount of essence he could muster and flowed it into his own sword.

The blade shimmered with a light golden hue as it grew bigger and bigger.

Dyrk looked dumbfounded as he watched the sword become as big as a large great sword. But it didn't stop growing. Soon enough the sword had grown so large that Evran couldn't even enclose his hands around the hilt. And yet the sword did not cease its growth. Instead, the blade continued to grow larger and longer. Eventually Dyrk buckled under the weight of the behemoth of a weapon.

Evran grinned triumphantly. With Dyrk down, he shrunk his blade into its normal size. Now he just needed to draw blood from Dyrk and he would w-

A trickle of warmth ran down his cheek.

His grin faltered. He gingerly put a hand on his cheek and felt wetness there. Had he gotten hurt? No, that couldn't be right. But as he looked at the blood staining his hand, he realised that he had indeed gotten injured. But how?

He looked over at Dyrk. The man was sprawled on the ground battered and bruised. But one outstretched arm was pointed straight towards Evran. He had thrown something. Evran turned to look back at what Dyrk had hurled. He spotted the object lying in the dirt some distance away. A knife. Evran couldn't believe it, how hadn't he noticed that?

Gilderick walked up to them, "And that was honestly one of the messiest duels I've ever seen."

Marie ran up to Dyrk and knelt beside him, "I can't believe you got kicked in the nuts Dyrk!"

" I can't believe I lost, I thought I had him on the ropes." Evran said with a sigh.

"Well it was a good attempt. Don't let the loss bother you," Gilderick replied cheerfully.

Gilderick then added, "Oh and Evran? I think I've finally figured out what sword you have."

Evran perked up at that. He asked eagerly, "What?"

"It's The Change Sword."