Walking lightly upon the earth. (open)

[shadin]

Shadin flexed his right hand slowly, focusing on the ring finger that he had recently regrown. In his third year at Ilirea he had been somewhat too forward with an honored dragon, and was taught a lesson by the loss of the finger. His teachers had decreed that he should bear the wound for the rest of his education there. Having only recently finished his magical learning he was finally allowed to fix his deformity. He was at first conflicted. He had lived without the finger for so long and had grown accustomed to not having it. He ultimately decided to fix his nonconformity.

He slowly gripped the hilt of his blade arranging the still unfamiliar pattern of his fingers on the leather. He inhaled deeply through his nostrils and focused on his opponent. The blonde elf, Vangar, had proven himself a match for Shadin in the past. While Shadin's bade had abnormal strength of the elf behind it, Vangar's whistled malice as he swung it through the air.

"Now."

Shadin's voice was quiet but the other elf had clearly heard it. They both sprung across the thirty foot divide between them, their blades ringing their conflict in mid air. Each flowed like water through graceful forms. Their blades rang out against each other singing the song of the battle. So far neither elf could gain an advantage over the other, but Shadin knew that if the fight lasted too long the lighter faster elf would win...again.

He redoubled is vigor trying to subdue the blonde, but it was to no avail, and it was not long before Vangar kicked him in the chest and knocked him to the ground and put a point to his throat.

"You know, of we were not just sparring I would have taken you." Shadin panted as he relaxed upon the grass.

"Of that I have no doubt." Vangar chuckled. "Race you back to the Citadel?"

Shadin snorted "No, no fun you always win."

"Only because you run like an urgal." The fleet footed creature jeered as he bounded away from Shadin.

Shadin started, almost getting up in a futile attempt to chase Vangar down, but decided better of it. He knew absolutely that he wouldn't be able to catch the other elf, particularly with this poor a start. The effort would be meaningless and he would make a fool of himself. Shadin instead relaxed once more upon the grass listening to the gentle song of the breeze. After a brief moment's respite, he lifted himself from the delicate green stalks and gave a furtive look around too see if he was alone.

Judging that he had in fact gained solitude Shadin took a moment to compose himself before beginning his forms. Swordsmanship was the one area of his life where he felt either interest or talent. True, he was competent with magic, and as any elf child he had learned the art of singing plants to grow, though he made no claim of having mastered it. He felt little need for plant singing and had not practiced it since his childhood. Flowing through his various forms, Shadin's prowess as a blade master would have been apparent to even a person totally ignorant in the use of a blade. Usually he was hard to beat sparring, though Vangar seemed to be a stumbling block for the heavy built elf.

Finally satisfied with the day's practice Shadin took one more look around. Seeing that he was yet alone he tossed his sword high in the air delighting in the whirring circle of steel as it flew up and began its descent. He nimbly extended a hand at the right moment and caught the blade by the hilt, as he did each day after his practice. It was an admittedly silly ritual, likely to result in either the loss of a digit, again, or hurting the blade. So far he had been lucky or skilled enough to prevent either himself or his sword, which he valued almost as highly, from being damaged.

Shadin sheathed his blade and walked toward the Citadel, whistling a merry tune to himself.

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[mriswith]

Ishiyo stopped and looked down and to the right at the race-red reptilian creature stepping alongside her. With her red eyes lidded, the Elven woman crouch down and stared at the hatchling at her side for the longest of moments. Only after several seconds of dead silence had gone on did it turn its slender, angular snout toward the Elf staring at its majestic and pristine, red hide. Their bright red eyes met and though they didn't exchange words, they could discern the intent in the other's mind with focus.

"No." Another moment passed between them as neither moved. "No," Ishiyo repeated, seeing the stubbornness in the dragon's eyes even if they couldn't communicate with words yet. Aiedail was a quick learned, but they weren't holding lengthy talks that much was certain. In times like these the fiery woman didn't even bother with what she'd picked up so far. "You are not chasing after that Elf."

Aiedail lifted her snout and brought it inline with that of her Rider's face as they stared at one another. Her wings were tucked about her sleek body, having no need to stretch them while prowling about ground level until she was able to fly. There was no way she'd be the first to break their stare. Of course, the fact they both refused to back down was one of the traits she'd found interesting in the Elf Aiedail had been "fated" to choose... or something. The whole 'Rider' thing was something the small, cat-sized dragon intended to research in depth. First, she needed to figure out where all these "libraries" were. They had these "books" with stuff written in them. Wait, "reading" was the first problem. Location of libraries was the second. So many skills to learn.

They began to wonder if they'd be standing there for hours just staring at one another before another Elf appeared nearby coming from the same direction as the first. In unison the two females turned their head and red eyes in Shadin's direction.

As he drew nearer, the Elven woman stood back to her full height, three inches shorter than the male, curious to see who was out here. Dressed in short sleeved, white shirt with a black, leather vest worn over it Ishiyo's toned arms basked in a little of the sun they so often didn't get to see with her dark wardrobe that usually covered much of her body. The loose, black pants fell down the length of her legs over the tops of the light boots she'd worn; the two of them had gone out on a stroll together and she didn't expect trouble this close to Ilirea. If there was any, however, she was ready to meet it head on as usual with her katana sheathed at her left hip.

Aiedail faced forward, but remain standing in place neither retreating nor running out to the meet the strange, new scent. As a dragon clothing wasn't an issue. Her body was smooth, but with hints of scales that would one day rise up out of her body. Three small horns pointed away from her face on either side and an even smaller set stood up above her narrow, red eyes. Her tail curled toward the end, but did not wave before the approach of the stranger; it ended in a straight point though it too might sport protrusions along its length when she grew.

It'd been over twenty years since Ishiyo was last a student of the Citadel and only recently had she returned in force after being chosen as a Rider. Nevertheless, it was possible the two of them had met if he was as young as she thought Shadin to be. Very muscular. No doubt more adept with his blade than magic, though the Elven woman didn't hold it against him; she was no Archmage herself. "Kvetha," she greeted the other Elf, curious what his disposition was especially around even a new Rider. Just because he was in Ilirea didn't mean he favored the Riders any more than those back in the forest.