[h2] Gillian & Sult [/h2]

The morning after the party. Where people have all sorts of pains and regrets. Sometimes even for a noble cause. The day seemed to dawn with nice weather, as the rays of sun filtered through the windows in the kitchen.

The night before had been too intense. The demonic armor. Her twin... So many things had happened. Words were spoken. Bitterness had grown amidst strife. A conspiracy had been unveiled, but at what price? Petty fights were yet to happen once again.

Sult was never an early riser. But this time, it was different. The blue haired young woman had set aside a jug of milk and some bread with cheese. She was having breakfast meticulously, her stare empty into the walls.

A good breakfast, for before the duel. Too many unknowns awaited. Could she beat her this time? She didn't know. She had become so strong, and she herself seemed to have squandered her talents. She took another bite of cheese. Remorse wasn't a good counselor.

Gillian trodden silently into the dinning hall. Sleep last night had come slowly, and his habit of rising before the sun helped noone. He was still reeling that the first substansive clue he'd obtained in years of searching had come from that leech of an assassin. Still, a lead was better than the nothing he'd had for seven years strong. 

He squinted agaisnt the intruding sunlight. Always perfered the hall at his darkest, but he seemed alone in that thought. He walked over to food cart, snagging a loaf of bread, eyes scanning over the small crowd that had collected, spying a familiar head of blue hair.

Not wishing to waste time he heads over to the girl, feet heavy with purpose as they thud softly against the wood floor. "Ser Sunfield. I'm sorry to bother you so early in the morn, but I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions." He said, though it sounded more akin to a command than a request. 

"Mmm?" The priestess tilted her head, eyeing the newcomer. Gulping a little of milk, she actually found herself staring at the knight. However, no other sound came from her lips, only a long awkward paused. It was then when she sighed.

"Okay? " She raised her voice, as she answered. "Go on, but I warn you, it might be too early for a date, my dear sir." She finished, her grin present.

Gillian flushed for a moment, forgetting the girls rather...impish nature. "Yes yes, very funny Sult." He said, dropping the formal names. He straightened up in his seat, composure seemingly recollected. "It concerns your brother, Nero I think it was? I've heard tell that he is in possession of, or atleast was exposure to, a set of armor manufactured by demons. Did you know of this?"

The blue haired woman rolled her eyes, as she sighed. "Soulscale. I see. Yes, I knew of this." Her smile seemed to disappear. "It is a major point of contention, you know..." She sighed, as she leant forward towards Gillian.

"I've got a duel over that with that odious sibling of mine... I'd love to tell you more details, but..." She added, as she chewed on more cheese delicatedly, licking her lips afterwards."I'm afraid I have knightly stuff to do, my dear sir." She giggled. "A duel is no joke."

"I assure you, I wont keep you from your duel and wish you best of luck." He said, voice flat as iron as he struggled to maintain eye contact. This is why he perfered to spend his days with trees and brush. They did not flirt back. Or at all, most of the time "But I am afraid I will have to be rather insistant on you being able to tell me what you can."

"Oh? That's really boring, my dear sir. It really is..." The woman tilted her head. "However, there's no way to end this in a sour taste, my dear sir? See... since everyone's up and with their business, they hardly have any time for poor me anymore." She said feigning weakness."Maybe, if some charitative soul would be a judge in the duel, I could actually answer all the questions."

Gillian did not looked phased by the theatrics. This was more or less the sort of behavior he expected from his brother (er, sister?) in arms. "Extorsion my dear? You've the air of a much gentler soul than that. But fair enough, if that is what I must do to gain your trust on this matter, I will judge your duel." He crossed his arms, face still sour with determination (though the slightest grin of bemusement was beging to sneak its way onto him). "But I warn you, you'll gain no special favor from me because of our brotherhood. It would insult your and his honor if I judged you unfairly."

"You bitch." Sult exclaimed, in a low hissing voice. Except her lips didn't move. And the voice was coming from the door of the kitchen,rather than the female in front of him. Sult Sunfield, or rather, another Sult was standing in the door ajar. "There is a limit on how much of a flirt one can be, NERO! With that stupidface of Sir Gillian nonetheless!". She spat her name as an invective, nails digging on the doorframe.

"Oh, but it was really fun impersonating you. Everyone seems to have this kind of opinion about you, my dear sister. You've brought it upon yourself." Nero grinned as she drank the remaining of her milk.

Gillian could hear the name shouted by the true Sult ring in his skull as the twins argued. Had...he just been flirted at by the brother he intended to question. His face burned red, though he was not sure if it was embarassment or mild anger from the ruse. "....wait." He said, finally able to pull himself back to reality. "Stupidface?...also, why is your brother wearing your clothing Sult." He said, deciding now that maybe he should have gone with the captain last night. Dying in a crypt was likely to make his head hurt less than the last four seconds.

"She's my sister, Gillian, my fifteen minutes older sister. We're identical twins... and she took my clothes without permission!" Sult fumed as she leapt towards Nero, her swift hands quickly invading her personal space and grabbing the familiar curves as she lifted Nero's bosom in her hands."She just passed herself as my brother to not draw comparison to the Iron Roses! Does this look a man's chest to you?"

And it was Nero's turn to become furious, her cheeks reddening as a result. "Unhand me you sow! This is unacceptable!" She added, as she struggled herself out of Sult's grasp quickly.

"C...calm down, both of you!" Gillian said as he stood, trying (and to a degree failing) not to watch the inappropriate display before him. "Look, you both have nice chests." He added, somehow thinking that would help. "Please lets just try to de-escalate the issue. I dont want either of you hurt before you can resolve your duel proper. And it isn't befitting of either of you. Sult's a grand companion and Nero in her own right commands her own order."

"He's right, you know." Nero said. "That's why he's going to be the judge." The eldest of the twins smirked as she eyed Sult, who hastedly removed her hands from the inappropiate places.

"Fine." Sult added. "Gillian, you had better be a good witness to this. Because if Nero loses, she'll have to apologize for being a idiot, and join the Iron Roses."

Gillian nodded to Sult. "Though its no business of mine what the wager is, I just gave her my own word. Both of you will recieve fair judgement in my eyes. I wont insult your ability by giving you favor, even as my companion." 

"Haaa?" Nero snarled. "Do you want to raise the stakes, baby? Fine then. I shall do it. If I lose, I'll become one of your odious Fanilly admirers. I'll even don a maid suit and cater to the wishes of that midget if need be. But in exchange, if you lose you'll have to quit the order and become princess Eliabelle's maid!" She added, as she looked at Gillian.

"We have a deal good sir Gillian. I do...appreciate men with integrity. Unlike others present." Nero said, before heading towards the exit. "I'll meet you in the training room."

Gillian sighed, turning to the true Sult. "I...suppose I shall also meet you there..." He shoved the remaining loaf into his waiting maw. Appetite spoiled someewhat. As he began to walk to the training room he addressed the woman again. "...and while its none of my business, perhaps you shouldnt antagonize your sibling so. There are few brothers I've met that would truely tear at each others throat. Family is rare in this day and age after all."

"Heh. If only you knew... maybe i'll tell you someday. But first I've got an idiot sister to beat. She manhandled Fanilly, you know." Sult said..."but perhaps, maybe... hm. Nevermind."

Gillian luaghed slightly. As he thought, the Sunfield was too kind a soul to hold a hate that deep. "Right right. Well, when you do I will tell you my story of how I accidentally flashed the captain. It'll be fun. And horrifically embarassing. So I suppose standard fair for our order." 

"Well, Roses are always a little naughty, aren't they?" Sult added as she headed to change near the training room. She did so in silence. The hour had come.

[hider=Teh Duel]
Sult cradled her stomach in one hand, as she breathed deeply. Her mind displaying vivid images and possibilities of the outcome that might happen. She took a look at her clothes. Simple and slightly padded, white in color. She fidgetted with her gauntlets. Her mind was throbbing. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to reign herself in. Her sword arm stretched, and with a deft movement, checked the blade in her hands. It wasn't bent.

How had she come to this situation? It seemed as if time had passed by in an instant. She still remembered the days before her training, huddling herself against the sheets in a cold and drafty room, with only the solemn, but rather disheartening luxury of her dwellings. Time after time, she'd whisper in the dark, calling for her sister. And her voice, an exact reflection would answer.

[i]"Nero?"

"What, Sult?"

"Are you asleep?"

"...Not now. What do you want?"

"I'm cold."

"It is cold."

"Can I go in your bed?"

"... sure. But Mr Dragon is mine to keep."[/i]

She inhaled deeply, and took the first steps into the arena. The wide space greeted her with silence, as her eyes quickly signaled her opponent. An exact image of herself, clad in blue clothes. With a similar sword. Her face was likewise scrunched, and tense. The body of Nero was poised to strike. One part of Sult desperatedly struggled to tell herself that this was a mistake.

But on the other side, Nero had crossed many lines. And she had to be admonished. However, a great deal of Nero's attitude had been Sult's doing. Instead of trying to reconcile, she just had been always the selfish little sister of the duo. And now her own sister had donned a demonic armor, and had manhandled the captain she had sworn to protect.

Gillian stood between the two, one armed raised with a white handerchief held between his fingers. "The standard rules of a duel apply here. You both begin when I lower my arm. The fight does not end until one or both of you is incapable of continuing. Killing your opponent, while not wanted, is permitted. Beyond that, you may do as you wish." With the formalities done, he slowly lowers his arm, taking a step back from ground zero as he watched the two girls with keen interest.

"En garde." The words came out from Sult's lips with no emotion, as she whipped up to a combat stance, her opponent doing the same. But that was about it. How would she assail Nero, which had more experience and motivation? The answer dawned on her like lightning. She couldn't. She had hesitated for an split second, and Nero had initiated the attack. Running towards her, Sword extended. It was going to be a thrust. Sult gripped her blade as she shifted her weight, closing the distance as well. Her legs twisted at the last second, her neck tilted sideways.

Only to strike air. The figure of Nero ducked and shot her attack, very much like she had done. A mutual feint, whose targets had just mutually evaded themselves. Wisely, both decided to push for several steps ahead, their backs turned on eachother. As if a synchronized dance, both women turned at the same time.

"Same thrusting feint." Sult snarled.

"We seem to read eachother, don't we? How annoying." It was the quip that came from the blue-clad sister. 

Sult held her sword in front of her, as she began to focus her mana. "Your blade is duller than I remember. Was losing the armor that much of a deal?"

"You're learning quickly how to make that hapzard technique land blows. I'm impressed." Nero quipped back, as she imitated her gesture. "But this only means..."

"...all out." Sult finished her own sister's sentence, as the holy mana engulfed her. If the sword technique would not do, she would use mana. She began to chant her holy verses, her whispered words reverberating throughout the room. The white light engulfed her, the holy flames wreathed her sword. It was then when she realized that such a reverberation had never been an echo of the room.

Holy flames also covered her sibling's sword too. A wicked grin plastered in her face, examining the brief stupor that had fallen upon Sult. She swung her sword wildly, as she closed the distance for a powerful blow, full of the fury of the Sun Goddess. Blade met blade. Holy fire met Holy fire. A normal sword could be empowered to cut another sword with holy fire. But if both swords were empowered...

Both swords were cut, the shards scattering in opposite directions as both sisters looked at the ravaged remains of their blades.

"You can quit while you're ahead, you know." Nero taunted, as he threw her blade. And so did Sult.

"...and forsake the joy of making you eat your own smug ego? I think not, sister of mine." Sult added, raising her fists in a classical guard. If she could not use a sword, she would use her own hands. She had learned enough medicine to know the weak points of her opponent's body...

A sharp pain brought her to reality, as the air was knocked out of her lungs by a high-powered kick, who not only staggered the Sunfield knight, it managed to make her squid along the floor a couple of meters. "GH!" She hacked, her eyes staring at the now raised leg of Nero, standing on her remaining leg like a crane.

"Too bad the old lech taught me a couple of things you don't know, hm?" Nero giggled as she spun around herself and adopted a strange martial arts stance. "This duel is over for you, Sult." 

Sult eyed her oponent warily. Shakily, she staggered back to her feet, still adopting a crude fistfighting stance. "No." She said. "Not yet." She gritted her teeth, as she charged against her own sister, trying to deliver a left hook. 

Before her eyes could react, Nero's open palm had struck against her chin, rattling her entire cranium and robbing her little sister of any momentum she could have. "USELESS!" And then Nero's counterattack came in full. Dozens of punches landed on the vulnerable body of sult which jolted like a tree in a windstorm. And she fell like a log, a sweeping kick from the elder sibling tripping her precarious stance. As a finisher, Nero put a foot in her own sister's chest.

"Do you yield, bad knockoff?" Nero spat. Sult whispered something. Her hands reached for her own face as if on grief. But it wasn't a lament. Nor a surrender. Blue healing magic bathed her own face, as the bruises and damages began to wear away.

"Wha!?" Nero was caught off guard by the situation, losing her balance for a second as a surge of strength invaded Sult, who got to her feet, her many bruises receeding.

"Good thing I can heal, Nero." She said, spitting a glob of saliva and blood. Her stance resumed.

"Really? That's your plan? Resist my attacks by healing until i get tired?" Nero snorted, as she readied another volley. "LAME, SULT. SO LAME. YOU'RE IN FOR PAIN!" The blue-clad sister screamed, hysterical as she unleashed another savage volley which send Sult tumbling down. But Sult didn't budge. As soon as she fell, she rose again.

And again, Nero pumelled Sult. And yet, her own sister, empowered by the healing, refused to stay down. More punches came in disarray. Nero was starting to feel the fatigue of continual attacking, and her opponent wasn't going down.

It was then when something happened. Nero's fist swerved somewhat. Her legs failed for a second. Even so, the fist landed on Sult's visage. But with one difference.

Nero had a fist on her own visage. 

The room went silent. Both punches had reached their goals, and as such, the tense atmosphere dissipate. Both sisters fell limp, collapsing in a heap at the same time. And the result of the duel had been the least common result of such a gruesome practice.

[/hider]

A tie.

Nero was the first to awake, groggily looking around, as she regained her counsciousness. "Sult...hey Sult!"

"Mrrmrmg." The answer came from the heap behind her. "...I suppose you're here to gloat."

"We both lost consciousness."

"What." It was Sult's flat answer, all her anger and frustration disipating all of a sudden. "We ...tied? How in Reon's name is that even possible?"

Nero knelt besides her sister, sighing. It was then when it surged from the depths of her soul. First it was a smile. Then a  chuckle. Then a full blown laughter. "This is so stupid! Why are we doing this in first place?"

"I don't know!" It was Sult's answer, who despite the beating was still chuckling a great deal. "Maybe if you hadn't sold me out to the princess, none of this would've happened!"

"Oh yeah, by the goddesses, Sult, why did you eat that cake It was her birthday. The damn princess birthday!"

"...I... guess, I just wanted to feel special and loved." Sult's laughter stopped, all of a sudden. "And you, you were the only one that made me feel like that as family."

"...we were so immature back then. We didn't realize. Until now. And now look at this...mess." It was Nero's answer, as she tended her hand to the battered Sult to get up. "We ought to fix it somehow."

"Maybe you can start fixing my face... I can, um, teach you the spells." Sult added, rubbing the amount of bruises she had sustained. 

"Yeah." Nero said. "And then the maid suits."

"...yeah. Maid suits, it is." Sult said solemnly as she whispered into Nero's ear what she needed to know on how to perform healing.

[hr]

The captain descended downstairs. It was time. An elegant blue-haired woman dressed in the same outfits as the servants of Fanilly greeted her with haste. Her curtsy was elegant and corteous.

And she had Sult's face.

"Good morning, mistress. How may this humble maid serve you?"

Well, at the very least, she didn't have to go to the palace like Sult, Nero thought.