Alan Cross & Lillian Valecourt
Deep breaths. A pair of wooden swords. It was just a practice battle with pretty much zero stakes, but it got Alan’s heart racing anyway. He must have a wire crossed somewhere, because it seems to happen every time. It wasn’t quite excitement, nor fear. It didn’t feel like much of anything, really, or perhaps it was more accurate to say it felt like too many things at once. It was an odd mixture of anxiety and drive, a fight or flight reaction but with flight dismissed out of hand. He knew what getting competitive was like; he’s no stranger to friendly competition, but fights and fights alone always felt different.
For her part, Lillian was placid and poised to rip out Alan’s throat. Perhaps not literally, given the weapons, but the vibe was the same. Why she chose him as a sparring partner, Alan couldn’t imagine, but he nonetheless reflected her calm intensity like a mirror.
Lillian struck first. She lunged towards Alan, swinging the wooden blade with speed that was hard to track. Alan did his best to defend, and managed to deflect her strike, only for Lillian to spin with the momentum and kick Alan in the chest. He slid back, but didn’t stumble, recovering quickly for a counterattack of his own. A thrust, a slash, a wide swing, a low sweep. Lillian continued to dodge any attack he threw at her. A sidestep, a backstep, a duck, and a crouching leap back at him. She grabbed his shoulders and vaulted over him, then lifted him by the shoulders and tossed him overhead. He caught himself before hitting the ground, tumbling into a crouch, but Lillian was quick to follow up.
Lillian feinted an overhead swing, pulling back to slither around the sword Alan raised to block in response. She went for a direct stab, only to catch sight of blood blooming out along her sword. The wooden blades weren’t sharp, but they weren’t just sticks either. It was reasonable to expect the tip to break skin, but the resulting bruise should be of more concern than any shallow puncture wound. Likewise, the edges probably wouldn’t cause any cuts, unless someone was dumb enough to try grabbing the blade thrust at them with a single bare hand. Like Alan.
Despite the surprise, Lillian did not abort half way. Her sword was stopped solely by Alan’s grip, holding it tightly despite his hand leaving a bloody skid mark on it. If Alan was feeling the pain, he didn’t show it outwardly, simply staring Lillian in the eye before using the leverage on her sword to tackle her, shoulder-first.
She stumbled back a bit. It was refreshing, having a sparring partner who wasn’t afraid of taking things too far with a princess. Lillian gave Alan a smirk as he shook some of the blood off of his hand before going back to a two-handed grip on his sword, never taking his eyes off of Lillian as he did so.
They continued, trading minor blows, never able to get a decisive strike in on each other. Lillian was clearly the superior duelist, setting the tempo of the spar, but she couldn’t dismantle Alan’s guard, and whenever she took a risk, he’d pull off something crazy to turn the tables on her, if only for a moment. Eventually they were the only ones still sparring. Kaizer had long since returned, and it was starting to become clear that they were probably going to continue all day long if left uninterrupted. Since some basic sparring wasn’t the only thing on the agenda for today, Okido had to step in to stop the duel so that they could all get on with it.
Amidst the post-fight panting and bandaging, Alan broke the silence of their long spar.
”You’re amazing. You just dodge everything I throw at you, don’t you?””Well, you certainly didn’t fail to leave a scratch. Every time I thought I had you cornered, you’d hit me with a surprise. Really, you’re quite excellent for tempering my patience.” If the compliment was meant to be backhanded, Alan didn’t notice in the slightest.
”Thanks! I try.””...”