The Dancer's blade descended with the silvered fury of a striking thunderbolt, its flame wreathed edge grinding against the stones as Or'do leaped deftly aside, his greatsword blurring into an amber streak that smashed the Dancer's flank, her hip wrenched in its socket with a damp clack! She turned on her planted left foot, still crouching low, the flame blessed blade arcing up, spraying shards of rock like hailstones set alight in melancholy torchlight, yet not even these struck the fleet warrior, who twisted and weaved through the tempest without pausing or breaking stride.
As Or'do passed, the Dancer turned to follow, her blade rising to menace him once more, its tip glinting with the glowing heat of the Sun itself, yet once more its ravenous edge bit only stone, ringing furiously against the tiles. Or'do planted his trailing foot, shattered earth spraying out as he lunged, glinting blade leading. Again he smashed her bent leg, toppling her upon hands and knees, her breath misting through swaying veil. She lashed out blindly, her blade grinding against the earth as it carved long, silvered crescent through the air, screaming toward Or'do like a hurricane striding over quaking earth.
Noraan drew a sharp breath, and charged in, believing Or'do's time spent, yet the cataclysmic blow never connected: dust rolling from his feet, Or'do leaped over the blade, and landed atop the crouching Dancer's back. He raised his blade overhead, clutched in two hands, its edge shining with malevolent glee.
He's smiling. Noraan realized. All this, and he smiles. Or'do's blade crashed home, passing through the nape of her arched neck and glancing off the stones below with a hollow clang!
How is he smiling? Noraan sheathed his blade, staring on in shock as with a radiant flare, the Dancer vanished, severed from this world. How can he smile?! Noraan realized that he had shouted the last when Or'do turned, still grinning.
"Because hope's flame is brighter even than the Sun, and many times warmer."
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