The air was crisp and cold upon the plateau of the Citadel. It was eerily quiet in the courtyard, the familiar silence of dawn that seemed to sap the energy from anyone unlucky enough to be up at such an hour. The vivid hues of daybreak were somewhat sullen this sunrise, though; drained by the thick dark clouds above. The customary moistness of morning added a cool humidity to the climate inside the courtyard’s low walls, but it did little to wet the dry throats of the three Arconans perched above Estle. The courtyard was a picture of beauty: luscious grass, marbled walkways and flowerbeds that decked the opening to the Citadel. All of it a wonderful façade for what went on behind the onyx walls.
Wuntila stood in front of the Citadel, garbed in a heavy black cloak that fluttered mildly with the breeze. Celevon and Cassandra looked at their Proconsul and knelt, bowing their heads as they did so.
“You are both here because you chose to look fate in the eyes. Remember the rules, don’t get ahead of yourselves and fight like Arconans.” Wuntila turned on his heel, his cloak billowing, and disappeared into the shadow of the Citadel.
Both fighters looked at each other and rose. They marched off in opposite directions and faced each other, waiting in anticipation for their signal.
They didn’t have to wait long.
“Begin!” The Proconsul barked. The two combatants heard the heavy stone doors of the Citadel echo across Estle.
(Cassandra to Post First)
As the brisk chill ran down the curved framed of the Sith, Cassandra felt her body shiver to its icy touch. Even now, she hadn’t probably adjusted from the arid temperatures of Kapsina to the weather patterns of Selen. In her time in Arcona, she had always found the courtyard of the Citadel to be a place of peace and tranquility, but today was different. With her hand perched around the hilt of saber, the Equite glared up to the finely built man. The two had become accustomed with one another after being selected as personal guard to the Consul; however the undying grudge of Battle Team’s still rested between them. Celevon was stood gracefully in his traditional fighting stance, and his sharp features were striking with his young adult appearance. Yet out of everything about the Knight, the woman still had trouble to see past his grey and silvery like piercing eyes.
“Now Edraven, let us see how much you paid attention to Sashar’s training”
The Battlemaster charged towards the Knight with fluent strides, and felt the lack of her casual armament as she activated her only weapon, her prized saber. Celevon had seen her swiftness before, and their differences surely made him quiver. The assassin had barely managed to arm himself by the time his opponent was upon him. Then as her saber came crashing down with the first strike, it resembled the sovereignty of death.
If it was not for Talos’s training, Celevon would have never achieved to act so quick and reflective to the attack. Their sabers crackled as they struck together, and both emitted an extreme color of crimson blood and the beauty of an immaculate sapphire. For a split second they stared to one another, and shared a different feeling. There was the Sith’s will fighting against the Obelisk’s love for combat, but only one could become victorious, even without death.
Cassandra growled as she quickly spun out of the lock, but as she gained her footing, she attacked with a swift and wild barrage. From strikes to the left, right and center each came with its own strength and purpose. Knowing that the Obelisk could feel strain in his body, she was a little excited to see as his concentration had brought out a volley of speed within him [BOS]. After numerous Shiim burns, Celevon began to meet her blade with haste but doubted his strength as he had misread the woman’s nimble yet toned figure. They had danced in combat, sharing blows and parries, moving from stoned floor to grass and flower beds. But as the Knight began to slow again, he let himself become overwhelmed. Then with a quick parried jab to the chest, Cassandra twirled around with her leg raised, kicking the male human to the ground.
A spot of anger began to brew in the Obelisk, and his eyes glared towards the woman with a molten like silver. It was then he realized that perhaps he was not quite fitted alone in taking down his opponent, especially as he tried to fight the pain of burning from the few light cuts.
“Come on then, I expected better!” As Cassandra shouted her words, she raised her blade ready to attack again.
Despite the pain from the burns, Celevon had to withhold a grin at the Sith’s challenge. He pulled himself to his feet as the Obelisk mentally berated himself for studying the Battlemaster’s statuesque figure when he should have been more focused on blocking her twirling crimson blade. A grin cracked across the Journeyman’s face as he retorted, “I would be doing much better if you didn’t wear such form fitting clothes.”
The Knight moved his saber into a ready stance as his opponent smirked and queried, “What? Can’t keep your eyes off my body and block at the same time?”
As the female finished her sentence, her next attack was already striking down upon the Candidate. Celevon rapidly blocked Cassandra’s aggressive flurry of strikes, hoping to
let her exhaust herself through the flowing nature of her chosen form. After blocking several strikes to all different areas of his body in quick succession, the Journeyman saw an opening and took it as he altered the grip on his hilt and sliced at her overextended arm.
Cassandra darted back from the Knight’s blade, though the unexpected switch between forms caught her off-guard. Celevon pressed his advantage, his lightsaber darting towards the Battlemaster as he attempted to exploit more weak spots in his adversary’s actions. Seeing that his graceful strikes and feints were having no effect, his limbs were working beyond their natural agility as he dashed towards the Equite before him [BOS]. Slashes, parries and various other actions seemed to flow together as Celevon lost himself in the intricacies of the movements he was performing, his body and mind working in a tandem effort to overcome his skilled antagonist as their blades constantly clashed in a combined flare of amethyst light. Words failed them as the pair fought over who would dominate the outcome of the match.
The fact that they were avoiding fatal maneuvers only seemed to fuel them both into continuing. After several minutes of testing one another’s strengths and weaknesses, Cassandra seemed to sense something and said as much, “Are you going easy on me because I’m a woman?”
“Sorry. I can’t help it if I taught myself to be a gentleman,” he replied with a sheepish grin, and, as if to prove his point, he quickly blocked several furious strikes from the Equite. “It’s a difficult habit to break. I can’t even bring myself to want to hit you.”
Celevon takes the win by default.