Hearts of Angels/The Isle Of Destati

The Wooden Blades Shed Blood
"Come on, you can hit harder than that" Alex came in again with the wooden sword, but his fe  parried deftlessly and hopped backward, giving himself room. The crowd cheered. Alex growled. Shalek came in with his wooden weapon, Alex slashed violently with his own to bat the blade aside. His opponent's defence open, Alex slashed. But the older boy spun expertly under the attack and lunged with his own, striking Alex in the ribs and knocking the air from his lungs. Hunched over, Alex managed to haphazardly deflect an overhead swipe but couldn't save himself from the powerful low sweep that took a leg out from under his feet and forced him into a kneel. The crowd was silent, all were excited at the prospect of a fight but none wanted to see the younger boy get hurt. Shalek stopped the attack, and revelled for a moment in the prospect of winning another victory, of cutting down another apponent. He listened to the sea birds cawing in the trees ahead of him, the rythmic crashing of the waves on the shoreline behind him, and it seemed even they were cheering for him. "Do you want to be put out of your misery, half-blood?" he mocked, insighting the younger boy's tainted blood. The crowd gasped. If there was one thing you didn't do, it was talk of Alex's bloodline. Shame and pride boiled within the boy, and the crowd somehow knew that these words would cost Shalek his victory. "Go ahead. Try" Shalek shrugged, and, faster and harder then appeared neccessary he swung his wooden weapon down. It whistled as it flew through the air, as if eager for the blood such a strike would give, the blood such weapons rarely got to taste. The crowd were silent, tense, as Shalek swung down, not knowing what to expect and yet somehow, secretly, at their core knowing that Alex wouldn't let himself be insulted like that, that even if the blade struck him to a bloody pulp he'd get back up and teach the older boy that his tainted blood didn't make him any weaker. Alex's blade flew to meet Shalek's, and knocked it to the side. The younger boy rose and swung a left hook that connected with Shalek's cheek with a horrific smack. He came back again with a backhand, the back of his knuckes entering Shalek's partially opened mouth and loosening several teeth, teeth that bit into the skin and nearly came out when he withdrew his fist. Shalek staggered back, gagging on blood and pain. Alex swung his blade on the side of his neck, but the older boy was tough, he raised his blade in an expert parry and fired his left fist into Alex's stomach. He grabbed the boy's sword-side wrist, and wrenched it. Alex gasped in pain. Shalek's boot connected with his ribs. The younger boy buckled over, and Shalek, still holding his twisted arm, chopped down upon his exposed back with his wooden weapon. There was a loud crack, and Alex cried out, Shalek brung the blade down a second time. The youger boys nees shook. The older boy spat the thick blood from his bestricken mouth before slamming his blade down again. This time, Alex collapsed, pain corsing through his back, stained red from the assault. Shalek laughed, the brute that he was loved causing pain. "Half-blood, half-blood!" he mocked. He didn't make the words into a coherent insult, he just said them again and again. The crowd was totally silent, full of pity for the younger boy, and revolsion for the older one. Shalek, imune to social sintuations, said the words again, faster and louder. Alex slipped to one knee, lashing out with his wooden sword. Smacking into the back of Shalek's knees. The older boy buckled, and Alex spun counter-clockwise and smacking the older boy in the chest. Both combetants faced each other, Alex the picture of calm, and Shalek the epitemy of unrestrained brutality and rage. The older boy ran and attacked, swinging his blade violently and powerfully. Alex couldn't block the attacks, and so he ducked and swerved under the clumsy, almost drunken attacks. He side-stepped a wild swing, and smacked the older boy in the head. Shalek was sent sprawling to the warm sand. As a powerful blow slashed at his shoulder blade, Shalek tried to raise his bladein defense. His weapon was smacked out of his hand. The last thing he heard before he lost all conciousness was the crowd, finally cheering.

Sun and Sea
Maria put the wet cloth by Alex's gash, and he flinched as it touched his wound. She tenderly wiped away the blood. He flinched again, harder. "Oh, stop being such a baby. You wouldn't have these wounds to dress if you didn't keep getting into fights" "He's earned it. I couldn't just let what he said go" "Then you should fight better. How hard is it to beat up a strong twenty-four year old, anyway?" "Whatever. Just keep dressing me" She looked at him. "The wounds! I meant the wounds" She giggled, and wiped away the last of the blood, wrapping a strip of cloth round the wound to stop further bleeding. Maria moved to the next wound. "How do you get cut by a wooden weapon anyway?" "It's easy. You just need to get hit real hard" "There" Maria said, tying the long strip of cloth round the wound on his chest. "You're all cleaned up. Joyce won't even notice" "Joyce" Alex shook his head. "It's freaky when you call my mom that" "Baby" "Heh. Thanks" "Come on, lets find Dahnen" Alex slid off the table he had been perched on, and the two left the dark gloom of the shack for the glare of the sun. From here, half way up Mount Blanc, they could see half the island: from the smallish docks, to the bridge, to the forest and finally to the beach. Maria perked up, and pointed to the beach. "I see him! I see Dahnen!" "Where? Where?" Maria pushed Alex back. "Tricked you! Tag!" She ran off down the mountain trail. Alex laughed and set chase to his friend. The two ran down the mountain trail, playing and hiding and laughing. Alex was faster, but Maria played smart, putting obstacles between them and forcing Alex to take difficult paths. Despite this, the position of chaser and prey switched many times, and they were both exhausted when they reached the beach.