159 Hall of Folcourse

Folcourse was a wonderful place. Nessa was very attached to it. It was were she was born and raised after all. In the whole wide world, there couldn't possibly be anywhere as magnificent as Folcourse.

Other places might be more gaudy, more luxurious or even more enchanting but none would ever come close to this place in her heart.

The city was almost entirely made out of large stone blocks carved from the hills west of here or even the mountains in the southern end of the kingdom. It had been built around a massive fortress designed to please her founding ancestor, the brother of the king from back then.

Her ancestors had few desires but he was passionate about those that he did have. Books about him told of how he could spend entire days dancing with his wife for example. When overseeing the construction of this fortress and palace, he made sure that the whole would please him and satisfy his passions.

Being blind, the man didn't care about the sight and disliked the idea of towering structures. As a great lord, he could perfectly take care of himself but ending his days by falling off a tower with a misplaced step wasn't an idea he wished to keep in mind.

The man wanted great sprawling halls and massive hallways to move unimpeded inside and host the grandest of balls. He wanted to feel the refreshing air coming from the Tribelands on his skin and hear the breeze through the leaves as well as the songs of the birds. He wanted to smell the flowers and please his beloved with their sight. That was all the soft side of him desired.

Her ancestors also wanted to protect his lands from any future invasion. That was the lord part of him, he had been an admirable warrior and a responsible leader after all. Being gifted with the whole north of the kingdom, it was his duty to properly defend the region and he needed his seat of power to stand strong and unparalleled beside the capital.

The giant blocks of stone were all stacked into massive walls around a lonely hill, short but thick, unbreakable and wide enough to hold armies either on top of it. The fortress was shaped like a massive flower with petals extending outwards in every direction with towers standing at the tip of each of them. Around it all, further down the hill, more walls, just as thick to protect the city nestled under the fortress. Any invader would have to scale one wall after another with arrows raining down on them each step of the way.

This place was the opposite of Bêtéclair. It was massive and expended in all direction like a carpet of houses. No building were allowed to stand too tall to hinder the defenders and so instead extended over the land, merging into the forest. Most cities cleared the woods and cut down ancestors to make space available but here was different. The streets were wide and boarded with plants from trees to flowers. Houses had massive yards were nature bloomed and small animals made nests on the roofs of every building they deemed fit. Stone and wood intertwined in a breathtaking display of peaceful communion. The fortress itself was no different.

Trees grew over the top of the walls to provide shade for the guards, pots of flowers lined every stairs, and massive ancients hugged the palace from all sides, providing support and serenity.

Folcourse was not the most populated city of Artefine but it was the widest, it had the longest walls, the most numerous guard towers and the longest reach of the kingdom. This was her beloved home and she wanted nothing more than to remain here forever.

Those were the graceful steps her ancestor took in the construction to insure victory for his descendant and the awe of everyone.

She wasn't quite sure where the city got this name, many stories about it circulated. The most commonly accepted was that someone ran from really far away to come here and warn the army of an impending threat, giving them some time to prepare. That wasn't her favorite explanation however, hers was an amusing tale instead.

The story goes that once the domain was nearing completion, the wife of her ancestor took his hand and ran all around it with him in order to show him its vastness. At the end, he said in the noble tongue "That is a crazy run." or "C'est une course folle." hence the name, Folcourse.

She always found the story funny but it didn't make her smile today.

She followed the path of pale stones towards the massive double doors leading into the great hall with nervousness. The enormous doors were adorned with hundreds of sculpted swords arranged like the petals of blooming flowers. Before, she thought they were an interesting sight but now she knew they represented the sword dance as it would seem from above. They were there to warn visitors, the warriors inside knew how to dance along with Death. Or they should have, nowadays, she was the only one who could.

Each of her steps made loud clanking sounds but the surrounding serenity absorbed them into nothingness after only a short distance. The sight of her however worried and shocked all the onlookers.

She was wearing her massive armor in broad daylight with her helm held under her arm on purpose so that everyone would recognize her. Her weapons were hung at her hips as they should and a trail of miserable knights followed behind her helplessly.

They had tried their very best to convince her to not do this as they neared the fortress but it was a futile endeavor. The witnesses along the road all expressed their confusion to each other in ushered whispers. Many did not recognize her at all because she had been gone for five years but those that did could hardly believe she was the same Vanessa that left for school five years prior.

Their opinions of her and her actions really didn't matter for what came next but she wanted everyone to know about what she was doing. She couldn't let her father try and hide her behavior, she needed everyone to know and speak about it. Whether they spoke fondly or badly of what she was about to do didn't matter as long as it stayed in the minds of everyone.

If it wasn't the case, she would end up locked in a tower while her father waited for everyone to forget her 'willfulness'. If the rumor spread well, he wouldn't be able to hush the talks and he would have to address her case properly.

She had not managed to put anything on her hunting card which didn't play in her favor but she should still be able to convince her father, somehow. She had no reason not to, she was talented and smart, she had conviction and her brother was unfit for the role... Right?

Right, she reinforced her belief in herself and stepped closer to the gate. She needed to do this for the good of her family and the territory.

Massive windows adorned the wall on either side of the gate and further down the row of trees, all of them were open wide to let the sunlight and wind inside. From them, she could ear the many people gathered inside the great hall already. They had heard about her return and gathered to welcome her.

Through the closest window on the right of the door, she could see a man properly dressed watch for her arrival. A low set of stairs had been arranged on that side so that the man in charge of the gate could announce the arrival of any visitors to his master before the gate opened.

The eyes of the man widened in shock when he saw her but he still managed to do his job properly. As he called for her father, the room quieted quickly.

"Lord Hasting, your daughter, lady Vanessa hasting has returned!" He loudly announced to let her father hear from across the massive hall.

This man had a powerful voice and it was precisely for it that he had been stationed here. She knew because he was the same man as when she left, he had worked as the announcer of the great hall for more than ten years already.

She climbed the five circular stone steps leading to the door as her father ordered it to be opened. Four knights inside pulled the steel handles and dragged the doors open. The well oiled hinges made no sound despite the strain but the audience quickly broke the silence as she appeared from the entrance.

Right away, from what she was wearing right now, they all knew something was wrong. They weren't dumb after all or they wouldn't be nobles and knights able to hold down the north of Artefine with her father.

A beloved girl would have worn a jolly dress and rushed in to meet her father again, sauntering across the great hall, happy to finally be back home. A proper obedient lady would have worn an elegant dress and strolled inside with dignity instead, she would have shown her respect to her father with a proper bow and smiled for the guests.

She was clearly neither of those.

She assaulted the hall in great strides instead, defying the expected order of things and stepping in with pride. At least, that was what she wanted to show, inside, she was more nervous than ever and it took her all her will to keep her face straight as she walked down the hall.

On either side of the long and colorful carpet she followed, nobles from simple lords all the way up to even a countess tried to hide their surprise at the scene. Not only did they remember the lady she forced herself to be five years ago, her father had no doubt been speaking of her beauty and delicate demeanor the whole time she was away.

The minds of everyone present rushed furiously as they all tried to guess what was happening. They hid their shock behind subtle hand gesture or even simply backed behind the trunk-sized pillars holding up the far off roof of this place.

This was a clear defiance of her father's intentions on her part, that was obvious to all, the hard part was to figure out why and how to take advantage of it. Nobles were like that after all. They didn't know quite yet what was afoot but they were already scheming for an opportunity to climb higher on the social ladder. Should they side right away for the duke or wait to hear her out, possibly even taking her side if it was worthwhile? Who was she working with? What was the objective and could they gain some benefit form it?

All those questions stopped them from doing or saying anything as she walked right past them all. For her, only three persons in this room mattered, her father, her brother and his mother. All three sat at the end of the hall on fitting and assorted thrones of wood, not as extravagant as a king would have but enough to inspire the respect the rulers of the north deserved.

Her father, lord Boncar Hasting, was reacting just as she was expecting him to. He looked absolutely angry.

His grey hair were tied in a short tail at the back of his head leaving a clear view of his face. In the few years she was gone, he had taken quite a hit from Time, her strong and stern father just looked... old. He wore his best attire to welcome her back, the one with the small gems sown into the light blue fabric. Those clothes didn't help to hide his frustration.

He felt ridiculed no doubt, he was waiting for his precious treasure of a daughter and a girl in heavy armor walked in instead. He might have even planned to speak about marriage right away, presenting some men to her. He couldn't really do that now, and if he had spoken to those men beforehand, he might be feeling even more upset than he looked.

He had never been a bad father however, he was very loving and overprotective of Nessa usually. He must be feeling betrayed even though she was doing what she felt was the right thing.

Her brother Philips sat at his side in the heir's throne. He had grown a lot since she had left but he was still far from reaching the height of a man. He didn't have the mind of a grown man yet either, he had no idea what was happening and just sat there in confusion.

"Is it really Nessa?" Was the question hanging from his lips. At least he had the sense to keep it to himself. She would have been really disappointed if he embarrassed himself like this.

She loved her cute younger brother dearly after all, she wanted him to be happy. This was what had started her whole quest, she couldn't let her brother take a seat he couldn't fill. It would make him miserable she knew. He was too frail and soft, she had to take it from him for his own good.

He mostly took from his mother, when she left it wasn't that obvious but now that he had reached his teens, he looked as soft as his heart was. He was just adorable, she felt like hugging him right now.

She smiled for him and he quickly returned it.

Five years and an armor didn't change anything for her, she was still his caring big sister.

The last one of the tree sat as duchess on the other side of her father's seat. It was her wed-mother Clarissa, the sister of her own mother by wedlock. The reason she sat there was simply because the favorite wife of lord Hasting, her own mother, was dead. Before then, it was her that usually occupied that seat.

Nessa didn't mind it much. This was natural and Clarissa was a good person as well as a good mother.

Her wed-mother was a total unknown for her plan however. They had gotten along very well in the past, she adored her brother and spoiled him a lot so of course his mother would like her. They shared their tastes on drinks as well. She was the one who taught her how to act like a lady, the one who raised her and showed her how to prepare a proper tea, how to do embroidery and even how to play the flute.

That was all before she decided to ask her father to transfer the inheritance to her instead of Philips however.

She didn't expect her to react well to what she was about to ask at all. All the wives in a marriage were supposed to treat all the children equally as their own but it didn't always work out.

Honestly, it was hard to imagine that she would do nothing but watch as the daughter of another tried to steal an entire duchy from her son. Her opinion of Nessa might make a complete turnover in a second. Already, Nessa could read on her face that she was starting to piece together what she was doing. Shock and betrayal were painted all over her person and worsened to such a degree she feared she might faint.

Clarissa had always been frail. It was pity truly because she was such an upbeat person. She always wanted to do this and that but spending more than an hour standing would always result in her staggering to a seat somewhere. She was born weak, there was no other way to put it. She was a lovely person and Nessa liked her a lot but Clarissa could not ride, could not travel, could not even dance, she was a prisoner in her own body.

That was why she only gave birth to Philips. Her health would not have permitted her to carry anymore children, even then, she accepted bearing a son for Boncar only because he lost all other possible heir. At the time, he had not even considered Nessa as a possibility.

The worst part of it all was that she passed on her frailty to Philips. He wasn't as bad as his mother thankfully but he would never be as strong as the knights massed around the hall. He would always be her delicate younger brother, he would never be fit to rule the northern grove.

To protect her precious brother, she was willing to take all the responsibilities from him. She felt sorry, she really did, but it was for the good of everyone. Very few would see it that way she imagined. A strife for inheritance wasn't all that rare although usually fueled by greed or pride.

She walked all the way to the three thrones while carefully detailing her three relatives with her eyes and stopped just a few feet away from her father, greeting him with a polite bow.

"Esteemed lord father, I'm overjoyed to be back."

The words were carefully chosen and sounded a bit cold but those were her true feelings. She filled her sentence with warmth and her smile was genuine even if it was tinged with stress. She felt she looked like a child who knew she was about to get scolded.

Behind her, Cherry and Myrtille knelt in front of the father of their mistress and kept their head lowered. They knew they had no part in any of this, they just couldn't leave the sides of Nessa.

Following them, all her escorting knights put a knee into the ground with respect as well. Being the leader of this operation, the guy she humiliated was at the forefront of the group. She still didn't know his name and somewhat shamefully, still didn't care.

"Vanessa! My daughter, welcome back home. I'm glad to see you safe. You've grown... Your eyes have a glint to them that they did not have when you left."

Knowing her father, he would have complimented her beauty but her wearing that armor made it difficult for him to voice any meaningful praise. The best he could do was speak about her eyes which had also the meaning of asking her what this was all about.

"I did grow and refined my talents greatly, thank you for noticing. I have brought many great news too." She answered with the same warm smile.

She felt no guilt about anything she was about to bring up, all of it was necessary.

"I see, I will hear you in a moment. First, let me thank the men behind you. My knights, you did wonderfully to bring my daughter back safely. You have my thanks, you may stand proud."

"Thank you my lord." They all answered.

They had been more like a thorn to her sides than a real protection but saying so in the middle of the hall would be a terrible idea.

"You may all stand aside now. You will be rewarded appropriately later once I've welcomed my daughter and reacquainted myself with her. We seem to have a lot to speak about."

"We do father." She answered with a nod while the knights all got up and stepped into the crowd on the sides.

"Let me ask you how was the road first. Did everything go well?"

"It did. Our troops must be doing good work because we found little threats on the way. I admit, I was disappointed, I wanted to hunt a big prey to impress you father but nothing worthwhile stepped in our way. It made for a calm journey."

Mostly everyone here must have been thinking it was an odd way to answer. Wishing for an unsafe journey, wanting to impress her father, it would make little sense for the lady she was supposed to be.

"Is this what the armor is for?" Her brother asked curiously. "Did you learn some good fencing techniques while you were away."

"I did Philips! I missed you a lot by the way, I thought about you often." She told her brother with affection.

He showed her another big smile and with warmth filling her heart, she turned back to her father to explain.

"This is one of the great news I am bringing to you father! I wanted to show you what I could do first but I sadly missed the opportunity. I have the greatest honor to tell you today that I managed to learn the royal sword dance of our ancestor!"

Gasps, awe and doubt burst trough the hall in a moment, inflaming the spirits of everyone present. The sword dance had not been witnessed in a very long time in Folcourse. The crowd wondered if this was true and if yes, it was an impressive feat. A great news was a very weak way to present such a miracle.

Her brother clapped, believing his sister right away while his mother frowned. Her learning the sword dance was a definitely wonderful thing but also not something a lady should have bothered with. She hoped it was the only reason for the armor but doubted herself.

She was the one that had raised Nessa since her true mother died while giving birth to her. She knew that Nessa knew very well that walking in wearing this would upset her father. If the sword dance was the only thing, she could have had explained while wearing a proper dress and have the armor brought in later to perform a demonstration in front of her father. Nessa proceeding this way told her that something was afoot and the duke, her husband, felt the same.

Lord Boncar let the crowd rejoice for a moment and then raised a hand to bring back the calm into his hall.

Nessa noticed the wrinkles at the back of his hand as it was raised, he didn't have any of those before she left.

"Is it truly our royal sword dance or an imitation?"

"I believe it to be the true sword dance father. Even if there is no one living to teach it to me, the descriptions in the old books match my own experiences with it. I can hear the music of the battle." Nessa affirmed with certainty.

"What stage have you reached then?"

"I've only mastered the second stage as of yet, I need an access to our library to learn more about the third before I dive into it. I think I'm ready for it, I have the speed and I am in perfect control of the second, as I said, I only need the books."

Her father smiled for the first time since she got in the hall. No Hasting could resist the appeal of the sword dance. Plus, her father held no real prejudice against female warriors, Nessa's mother had been a talented knight after all. He was only upset that Nessa wasn't acting as the lady he needed her to be.

"You came in wearing this armor because you were confident in your mastery of the technique and eager to show it to everyone. Is that right?"

"It is." Nessa nodded.

It wasn't only for that but rushing through the steps would only hinder her progress. Like any dance, the rhythm had to be respected.

"I've been practicing it quite a lot and old lord Aminui Muracier himself saw me use it. I defeated his ward in a spar and he highly praised our sword dance."

The hall erupted in talks again. The lady had defeated a Muracier ward and her technique was praised by one of the most influential character in the whole empire. Their excitement could hardly be contained.

Now was not the time to repeat his exact words however, it would be the point when all hell would break loose upon the Hasting palace.

For now, her father was very happy about this. It was almost enough for him to forgive the strange way she strode into his great hall. It wasn't everyday that the elder of the second most important family of the empire publicly praised the fighting talent of someone. Even better, she had defeated his own ward bringing great fame and honor to their name. This was an event worthy of a feast already and that was all ignoring that Nessa had brought back the ancient technique to life.

The man was showing a wide grin to the whole assembly of nobles and knights. This might not be matching the impression of her he wanted to give to the court but it was still very helpful to the family. He, again, raised a hand to silence the audience.

"I am filled with pride, as is the rest of our guests it seems. You said you wanted to show us, would you be willing to spar here with one of our knights for the benefit of our guests? Can you fight in that armor daughter?"

"I would love to and I can. This armor was custom made for me, it is lightweight, very durable and filled with magic runes."

"Splendid. A volunteer to challenge my daughter please, we're all eager to see."

"I volunteer."

Nessa looked back to see who wanted to challenge her and it turned out to be the same knight she humiliated again.

"Ha, sir Duncan, a respectable partner. Daughter, begin with only the first stage please, we'd all like a good view of both I'm sure. Make way for the demonstration." He ordered the room.

"Understood father." Nessa answered with a confident smile.

She could not believe that this man of all people would be able to match her sword dance, even when limited to the first stage.

Her two slaves hurried to the side as the crowd backed off. She put on her helm and closed the visor completely. Then, she unsheathed Lockstep and Chassé, her two swords.

She could not see anything anymore but she didn't need to. In her world of dark, she could focus on the music. She turned around to face sir Duncan, raised both her swords and crossed them over her head as usual.

"This is only a demonstration to show us the sword dance, please, do not injure each other in my hall. Are you both ready?" The duke asked.

"I am." Both her and Duncan answered.

"In that case, you can begin... Now!"

She took a half step forward right away but didn't feel anything from the man so she stopped her advance. What was he planning?

"Since it's a demonstration of your sword dance, it is only fair that I give you the first move." He said for all to hear.

Was this another of his half veiled taunts?

The first stage of the dance was more reactive than offensive but if he insisted, she could make her own beat to dance upon.

She focused her ears until she caught the sound she was looking for through the ambient noise, the heartbeat of the knight.

Using it as a base on witch to work, she tapped her feet twice on the carpet and moved forward. She created a muffled beat with her feet and followed it to him slowly. Charging fast was not in her habits after all.

She heard his breath, he was readying himself, the sound was feeble, he was confident. He did not think she represented a true menace for him.

She slashed downward right towards his head, holding nothing back. Surely this time he wore his helm?

She did not find out right away, the whistle of the air cut by his sword was brought to her ear instead, the grating of leather on the carpet. The dance had started, his first move, a sidestep and a counter.

She spun with a forward step feeling his own sword slice empty air to her left, then he was in front of her at the half point of her spin. Her sword hit the back of the man before her spin ended with her facing his backside. She had not even moved the second sword yet and she had already hit the target. His heartbeat grew quicker.

"Stop underestimating me." She told him flatly.

Clothes clapped against the air and his sword whistled back toward her. The sounds were almost masked behind the clapping of the audience but she could not loose her opponent when so focused on him.

She took a single half step back, her feet tapping the ground in sync with his heart. Her sword was left to linger pointing at his upper body while he spun.

She lowered her arm and let his weapon fly past before leaning forward. Her right arm pierced towards his belly while her left pieced towards his head from above.

She had to refrain from aiming for the gaps in his armor since he wasn't an actual enemy, the best she could do was slash his armor repeatedly until the demonstration was over. It didn't mean that he would let himself be defeated this easily however.

The man turned on his side, the slide of his feet betraying his movement, his sword pulling back to strike her own away. She let him do it, her left striking empty air while her right got pushed away. She used the push to spin on herself again, twisting her upper body and striking back with her left while the right circled his weapon and drove it further away.

Clank, she got his chest, his heartbeat quickened yet again. Now he was getting serious. She adjusted the pace of the dance.

A backstep to dodge the counter then forward and three strikes, all blocked, then a backswing with her left, he sidestepped to dodge but she imitated even before he decided to do it.

Many more exchange followed but after the third, she was in full control of the dance. His heartbeat was already a mess she could easily follow, the movement of his feet easily predictable. Wherever he moved, he couldn't escape her unrelenting attacks. His strikes were powerful, the air cried on the path of his sword every time but she would always just take it gently and push it to the side. Every time, she would step and spin, closing in on him and invading his personal space to strike at point blank range.

He tried to trip her in the middle of a spin only for her to make a small jump over his leg, a fluid move she had planed in advance, perfectly fitting in the dance. From outside, it would seem as if she knew all his plans before he even tried, which she did in a way. He was only following the dance she set.

She was talented in the dance but even by knowing all its steps, she would not be able to do so well if not for her understanding of the music. The sharp sound of his breath, the rustling of his clothes, the boots sliding on the carpet, the loud thud of his heels, the air screaming around his sword. All were instruments playing in sync with the beat set by his heart.

All she had to do was to control the pace and lead the dance. Her movements all flowed into one another and his answers were all countered before he even thought of using them.

The man got better fast, he wasn't a knight for nothing. Despite his attitude, he was a real warrior, no mere student. After the few initial setbacks were he massively underestimated her, he didn't fall for her tricks anymore. He was led around by her pace and couldn't place a strike without receiving a punishing retaliation but he was still able to block and dodge all her attacks.

The pincers, the spins, the scissors, the false steps, a lockstep into a feint, a blurring flurry and piercing strike from a great distance. All were skillfully defended. She had to admit, he fared better than she thought he would.

At that point, Emp would have beaten her long ago already but he was used to her sword dance. This man wasn't but could still hold his own in front of her. If it had been a real fight, he would have died in the beginning while he was underestimating her but it still wasn't so bad.

"Enough!" The joyous voice of her father interrupted her idle reverie.

She stopped her arcing attack and heard sir Duncan back away swiftly.

She turned towards her father and raised her visor to see his satisfied expression. Even her wed-mother seemed impressed despite her obvious worry.

"Bravo sister! That was great!" Her brother cheered with loud claps of his hands.

Her father nodded and spoke again.

"This was indeed impressive, it does match the old texts in form and might. This is merely the first stage too, I'm eager to see the second. Sir Duncan, you did well to hold on so long. Do you wish to try and face the second stage or would you like a new volunteer to try?"

Nessa turned her eyes to Duncan, he was sweating from the effort he had to provide to resist her attack. It didn't surprise her when he declared forfeit.

"I'm sorry my lord but this bout exhausted me, someone else will have to experience the second stage of your royal sword dance."

"I understand, in that case, you can step back. Who would like to face my daughter?"

The knights looked at each other and held a silent exchange until sir Clarence volunteered.

Nessa had known this man for a long time. He had fought on the border many times in the past and she saw him getting praises from her father often when she was younger. This man was no mere Duncan, she did not think she could win.

"Sir Clarence, I know well of your valiance, please do not go soft on me. I will not be upset by defeat." She told him.

"Understood my lady. Please, let us witness the second stage." He nodded simply.

Her father gave the signal anew and she quickly started spinning on herself.

The first time she practiced her sword with Emp, he had told her that he wasn't sure spinning was a good idea in a fight. It was funny how she now spun so much in every fight.

The crowd was gasping in awe as they saw her swords split into more and more blades until she went so quickly there seemed to be hundreds of them.

The sounds blurred around her, coming from every direction at once. This was the hardest part of the technique, the difference between a girl spinning on herself and a master of the second stage. A novice would feel lost and go around randomly, a master of the second stage needed to understand that all sides were forward. The world was now a line to her, there was only forward and back.

Sounds were all distorted and blurred, coming from everywhere at once but, everywhere was forward. She pinpointed the one she needed to focus on and stepped towards it. In the darkness of her helm, she could build an image of the world around her just from the smells and sounds. She 'saw' Clarence charge towards her fast, like a distorted patch of smoke.

She brandished her lower sword into a vertical slash and then a forward trust. She felt a connection, a spark in her universe of dark. The chock buzzed through her arm as she let her attack slip past, over and over again, connecting with his own sword a few dozen times in a split second. She couldn't put all her strength into any attack because it could end up stopping her revolutions.

She heard the sword come for her and lowered her upper arm to block. A new hundred of sparks flashed in her world, a crystalline sound preparing her for the next note.

She made a new step forward, her dress' blades caught into clothes, ripping them apart, she'd have to apologize for his pants later. At least, she did not catch flesh, she slowed her advance quickly to stop herself from doing so.

Was he not wearing his armor? She started worrying about hurting him, her technique was deadly after all. She usually targeted plates on purpose to make sure she didn't injure anyone seriously. If he didn't wear any, she didn't really know how to defeat him without splitting him in half. She could only target his sword.

She kept twirling and pushed lightly with her feet, taking air and bringing her sword downward. A new note bringing life to her world in a multitude of metallic sparks.

Again, a new strike and another block, up down up up down, trust and cross slash. Any movement she made in that state would launch dozens of deadly attacks even with a simple flick of her wrist. Her opponent was truly talented, he blocked everything.

Neither of them hit the other but the music rose in speed and variety of notes. The tempo got frantic fast and steps varied often. The knight was forcing his own song on her, he was trying all the dances he knew against her, fishing for the best match.

His sword was too long, she noticed it after a small time. She had not seen the knight for years and he must have changed swords while she was away, this one was much longer, he had a clear reach advantage on her.

She could hear distorted voices calling for a technique or another, throwing counsels at her opponent. It wasn't that they really wanted her to loose but more that they wanted to know how far she could go.

While fighting like this was entertaining for everyone uninvolved, it wasn't as fun for her, she was getting dizzy. Her brain was hard pressed against the side of her skull and she could feel it pulsate in pain. The match was getting too long. She could spin for a while but not forever.

She waved her sword up and down at her opponent. She felt his own slip through the waves somehow but the wave wrapped around fast enough to push it back away. Then she heard an ominous thud, something heavy hit the carpet, her forward movement had her step on the large sword. It was slanted, he was still holding on to it. She kept her balance and extended her arm to cut Clarence who was still holding the sword. His blurry figure of sounds bent backward to dodge the countless swords and then she felt her world crumble.

She wasn't standing on anything anymore, he moved the sword with her on it and now she was spinning in the air. She knew because of the sounds but in truth, she had no idea where she was exactly or where she was going. In this spinning world, there were only forward and back but now both could be anywhere.

She panicked for the briefest of moments before hurriedly rebuilding her image of the room from the sounds of the crowd. She somehow landed on her feet but her spin drastically slowed down and she had to wave her arms around to keep standing.

The next thing she knew, a sword was invading her world again but she had no way to react. She couldn't dodge right now and If she moved her arms to block now, she would collapse and roll across the floor of the hall. She gritted her teeth and took the hit regardless.

There was a loud shriek of metal as her waist received the sword. Because she was spinning, the blade ran across her armor all around her many times and she was sent tumbling somewhere that wasn't forward.

Her body hit the floor hard and as she expected, she started rolling across the hall. She had been defeated.