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Of Light, Shadow and Love: Volume 2 Chapter 5 Dance of light and shadow
Shadowdancer
placed her hand on her breast, her eyes the only thing betraying her smile,
as her lips were hidden by the metal blades of the gunsen. Discreetly, she slid one finger into the fold of her
collar, chuckling. He had caught her off guard with this, but she had adapted
already. Those who did not adapt were often killed. The ones who adapted the
fastest were the best survivors. Shadowdancer
had survived a very long time. Lightsider
watched her carefully, watched her eyes, but they laughed at him, revealing
nothing but immense enjoyment. He was ready for the slightest fast movement. She
reached up to brush away a lock of hair from her face, tucking it behind her
ear, then brought her hand gracefully down. The whisper of her robes masked
the whisper of the wires that hissed out at him. Her soft, regal chuckle
echoed through the air, softly taunting. Only the
glimmer of sunlight upon the hair-thin wires betrayed their presence.
Lightsider spun, swords slashing at the wires. The same instant that he broke
into motion, Shadowdancer darted forward. Lightsider swept to the side, his
swords working furiously at the air. Shadowdancer’s
eyes widened slightly as she heard the soft tink of metal on metal. The
swords had cut through her normally unbreakable wires! Her
smile was wicked with glee. Oh, this
will be good, she thought as she closed the distance between them. She
saw his eyes shining with the same exhilaration of combat. Her fingers shot
out, stabbing toward his face, her middle finger sheathed in a clawlike koto pick, more a weapon than a tool
for use with the musical instrument. Lightsider
smiled and dropped the sword in his left hand. It vanished. He thrust forward
his index finger right at the pick, and it halted at his touch three inches
from his nose. The finger glowed green with a pinpoint shield that covered
just the tip. Lightsider swept his right foot forward at the drow assassin’s
leg. Shadowdancer
relaxed her legs and let Lightsider’s kick buckle them. She rolled, twisting,
her fan flicking out to slash at the doctor’s thighs as she fell past. Lightsider
caught the silver flicker of the fan out of the corner of his eye as Shadow
fell. He leapt away, almost too late, as the razor edge of the fan tore
through his pants and drew a thin red line across his upper leg. Wincing
at the stinging cut and berating himself for his carelessness, Lightsider
instantly reformed the katana in
his right hand into a spear, and threw it directly at Shadow’s throat. Shadowdancer
curled as the spear flew at her, using her momentum and weight to hasten her
fall. She rolled quickly to her feet, watching the spear bury itself into a
tree mere inches away. Far too close. She was
so busy avoiding the first spear that she almost didn’t see the second one,
thrown from Lightsider’s left hand and aimed right between her eyes, until it
was too late. Pure
reflex saved her. Her fan, already spread, came up to shield her face. The
tip of the spear clanged against the fans’ blades and the weapon spun
harmlessly away. She lashed out with the other hand, letting loose yet
another stream of wires. Lightsider
stood his ground, weaponless, and merely watched as the wires whipped toward
him. At the last moment, he raised his arm to block the razor sharp wire. Shadow
held her breath. The fool! The molecule-thin wires would dissect him, or at
least his arm, into equally sliced portions. The
wires wrapped themselves around Lightsider’s arm, drew taut . . . And did
absolutely nothing. Lightsider
grabbed the wires in his hand and formed another katana in his other. He jumped into the air, and pulled on the
wires, catapulting himself toward the bewildered elfin assasin. It was only
then she noticed the faint glow of a form-fitting Shield gauntlet around his
arm. Two meters from her, Lightsider landed and sliced the wires away from
his arm. He then leveled a blow that would have bisected her across her
narrow waist. Instead
of avoiding it, she dove into the blow, her hand outstreched as if to grab
the sword’s edge. She touched the edge of her koto pick on the edge of the
blade, and used her mastery of balance to raise her body into a handstand...
on her finger alone. As Lightsider’s momentum propelled him forward, his eyes
wide with disbelief, she slid along the edge of the blade. Just as
it seemed they were certain to collide, he felt the blade dip as she applied
a bit more weight on it, and somersaulted over him. Outside,
the crowd watched in awe as the drow assassin deftly avoided what by all
rights should have been a killing blow. Bets were usually strictly forbidden
in the arcade premises, but during the battle, the area in front of the
monitor looked like Vegas. Lightsider
withdrew a step and considered his opponent as she flipped through the air.
She was much faster and more agile in the billowing, robelike kimono than by
all rights she should have been. His katana
disappeared, and were replaced with twin tanto
blades. Shadowdancer
snorted in derision. “You plan on hurting me with those pocket knives?” she
mocked. The little drow sorceress landed on one sandaled foot, then with
dancer’s grace, placed the other one precisely next to the other. She put the
fan in front of her face again, coming to a complete standstill, looking like
a Japanese doll in a glass case. “Take your best shot.” Lightsider
leapt for the attack, his wings tucked tight against his body, the two small
blades held in front of him in a guard position. At two meters in front of her,
as she was starting to dodge and counterattack his strike, Lightsider’s wings
unfurled and gave a powerful sweep downward. Lightsider was catapulted three
meters straight up as he changed the tanto
in his right hand to a kusari-gama.
The weighted end of the chain impacted the fan Shadow was holding, striking
it out of her hand and into the air. Lightsider landed five meters away, and,
extending his hand, caught the fan and opened it with a practiced snick. He looked over his shoulder and
smiled. If she wanted style, he could give it to her! Smiling,
the doctor brought the fan in front of his face in a mimicry of her own
starting position, his movements elegant yet masculine, his eyes sparkling
with glee. Shadowdancer
chuckled softly, and regained her footing. She smirked. At last, a challenge worthy of me! She then felt an emotion she
hadn’t felt in a very long time in battle… the barest twinge of doubt. She
flexed her numbed hand. No one had ever disarmed her. Ever. And this
gentle-looking man had done it almost as if toying with her. Perhaps… too worthy. --- Lightsider
tossed the fan to his left hand, and reformed a katana in his right. He held the sword horizontal, straight out
to his side, and stalked slowly up to Shadowdancer. His movements were
graceful, deliberate, almost sensual in their fluidity and reminiscent of a shosagoto dance. He brought the fan back up to his face again, but this
time his eyes weren’t full of fun. They were analytic and calculating. Shadow
looked back with her own cool, unreadable look. Inwardly, however, her mind
was a swirl of questions. Who is this
man? she wondered. Is he Kami?
Demon? Why did he not simply slaughter the guards at the CoM to rescue his
nurses? If this is indeed his real ability, it would have been child’s play!
Her hand rested lightly upon her breast, the koto pick glittering upon her middle finger. The other hand was
hidden in her sleeve, but hung at her side. She seemed unconcerned by the
fact her weapon was going to be used against her. Lightsider
was sure it was a pose. He knew this woman was never unarmed. The
doctor continued his steady advance, his eyes locked into Shadow’s as if
gazing into the eyes of a lover. He angled to his left a bit, and Shadow
turned to track his movements. They circled like this for a moment, each
testing the other for resolve, and for commitment. Lightsider frowned
mentally. Her pose was off-center and imbalanced. Only just slightly, but her
center was definitely off. A stance like that wouldn’t allow a quick defense,
or a swift counter of any kind that he had ever seen. Shadowdancer
watched him too, appreciating the movements of a trained warrior, a master
killer. His pace was even, each step in perfect balance. Behind her
expressionless mask, her heart beat with anticipation akin to arousal. Such a
foe she had not faced in years, if ever. She enjoyed the challenge of any
battle, but more so, Shadowdancer relished the pleasure of fighting someone
possessed of similar skills as she. His eyes never left hers, and she met his
gaze with an almost sensual challenge; observing, with just the right touch
of boredom coloring them. Thus did
she toy with his perception. Lightsider
reacted a hair slow to Shadow’s strike. There had been no change in her
expression right before she ducked down and darted forward in a lightning
blow. The off kilter stance hadn’t been by mistake, or some strange defensive
stance. It had been an attack posture. The doctor caught her koto pick on the gunsen and diverted it from disemboweling him just in time. She
sprung away before he could counter, and Lightsider grimaced. That was
another challenge in fighting women. It wasn’t only their clothes that could
be distracting. Lightsider
weighed his options carefully. He had a better idea of her speed and agility
now. He’d never faced anyone as whipsnake-fast as the woman he was locked
with now. Well, that was fine. He could be distracting, too. He brought the
fan back up to his face and smiled. Shadow caught the slight crinkle in his
eyes. She
watched him carefully, and noted the familiar fan seemed a bit different.
Little glimmers and rainbow sheens played across the plain surface of the
razor-sharp blades. She watched it curiously. What was he doing? It was pretty, though . . . almost . . . hypnotic
. . . . The fan
suddenly flared into a burst of Light more intense than an arc welder. Shadow
involuntarily shut her eyes against the assault and cursed herself for being
so careless. Then she heard his steps closing on her. Of course, he wasn’t just
going to let her regain her vision. Uh,
oh, her mind told her. Lightsider
took a lunge forward and swept the fan directly at Shadow’s beautiful face.
She heard the whistle of the fan, and jerked her head back. It was a close one.
She opened her eyes to watch a lock of her red hair drift to the ground. A
sting on her cheek told her how close indeed it had been. Shadowdancer
stepped backward, faking the surprise of having been cut, her eyes closed as
if in pain. Lightsider took the chance and followed up the fan strike with
the sword in his other hand. The cut should have taken her head off, but she
suddenly vanished below his line of sight. Startled, and in the middle of a
full swing, Lightsider stepped forward . . . . And nearly
bit his tongue off as Shadowdancer’s sandaled foot crashed into his jaw. Belatedly,
Lightsider realized where she had gone. She’d done a back handspring to dodge
the strike, and then had catapulted herself right into his face on the
upswing. He flew
backward, dropping the fan. Through his flickering vision, he saw her
complete the leap and land in a crouch, catching the fan between her index
and middle fingers. Lightsider
landed heavily on his back, but managed to use his momentum to rebound and
back flip onto his feet. Damn, he
thought. She’s several times stronger
than she looks. Lightsider rubbed his chin. Yep. The pain simulators were
working just fine. He worked his jaw a bit. And
glanced down at the ground. There, in a little pile of pieces, lay his
glasses. The
doctor shut his eyes instantly from reflex. Shadowdancer
chuckled. Fool, she thought as she
darted forward, taking advantage of the doctor’s momentary weakness. Her fist
crunched into his gut. “You forget too easily, Sensei!” As he doubled over,
she spun in a roundhouse kick, her foot smashing into the side of his face.
“You don’t need your glasses with me!” Shadow drew back her left hand, with
the razor-sharp koto pick, intent on driving it through his heart with her
next strike. After all, such was the penalty of stupidity. And, it
turned out, of overconfidence. Lightsider
tumbled to the ground, opened his eyes, and gave a fierce grin at Shadow. “I
know,” he said in a low growl. His words were no warning. At the last syllable,
Lightsider’s foot caught Shadow’s feet right at her ankles, sweeping the
woman completely horizontal with the force of the blow. In the air, she had
no balance, no strength and especially, no speed. Lightsider instantly kicked
his other foot out with all the power he could muster, propelling the
diminutive drow hard against the trunk of the nearest tree. Shadowdancer
felt his heel crunch into her ribs, and instantly went limp. Thus, though she
hit the tree hard enough to splinter the bark, she herself was not badly
hurt. The kick winded her a little though, and she let herself slide down the
trunk. Her toes found the loam of the forest floor and she grinned. He’s
very, very good. Lightsider
picked himself up from the ground, and watched warily as Shadowdancer reached
up and ran her thumb along the thin cut he had made on her cheek. Shadowdancer
licked the blood off her thumb. “First blood, Doctor,” she smiled at him,
congratulating him on his skill. “You are
stronger than you look.” Lightsider replied as she took a few steps away from
the tree. “You’re
very good.” Shadowdancer said, bowing. “It has been... ages since I fought
someone so close in level of skill to my own.” “You
honor me with those words, Lady. It’s been ages since I’ve fought anyone at
all.” Lightsider replied, bowing in return. “I guess we’re even.” he
straightened, his lavender eyes bright and clear. “But the fight is not over
yet.” Shadowdancer
smiled. “Hm. You are quite correct.” she straightened, then assumed the ready
stance for an iaijitsu strike. “Let
us continue then!” her call was a challenge, ringing through the wood like
the cry of a hawk about to strike its prey. Lightsider
blinked. She did not wear a sword on her hip, he recalled. He watched her
carefully. The wind
rustled through the trees, and tugged at the silken sleeves of her kimono,
revealing a beautiful, ebon-sheathed daisho
tucked into her obi. Her eyes never
left his as he, too, settled slowly into the stance, sheathing his Light-made
katana into its own ivory scabbard. Immediately,
the doctor scanned her for any flaw in her stance, any signal of attack…
anything to use to his advantage. Nothing.
Her
stance was perfect. She was motionless.
Her visage was masklike, smiling, her midnight-blue eyes dancing with fun.
Even the aura she projected was that of a child at play. Lightsider
was instantly on his guard. Never before had he met an opponent he couldn’t
read. He watched, wondering what would signal her strike.
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