Lessons in focus (title uncertain at present)

[Hjolnai]

Lessons in focus

 

A blade flashed from the bushes.

I rose in the blink of an eye, and, confident in my abilities, caught and returned the thrown knife without suffering so much as a scratch. Then I realized my mistake. The coldness of poison spread into my hands; a very strong contact poison. I immediately set myself to concentrating on purging it, expecting whatever assassin had struck to be afflicted in the same way. Then a dark shape burst from the bushes. Fortunately, I maintained enough awareness to notice when he came within sight. This one is dangerous, I realized.

 

Though the coldness had receded somewhat, I had not banished the poison yet; nonetheless, I was forced to abandon that fight in light of the more immediate danger.

My foe struck with a shortsword; I deflected it with little effort. He is skilled, but he underestimates me. Seeing his expression of surprise, I returned a blow of my own: A swift kick which would cause enough injury to end the fight. In perfect balance, the assassin evaded my blow, and nearly dealt a cut to my leg. Still confident in my abilities, I leapt within his reach, and ignoring the gradual, painful freezing of my hand, delivered an openhanded blow which stunned the assassin with its ferocity. I forced his sword hand out wide, and struck again. Then I was forced to leap back, narrowly avoiding a second dose of poison, and a nasty cut, from the dagger now occupying the grey-clad figure's left hand.

 

The cold pain was spreading quickly now, and I knew that I had to end the battle quickly. I could deliver no deadly punches with my right now, and it would not be long before the poison could claim me.

 

In desperation, I launched into a flying leap. Surprised, the light-footed assassin evaded my attack, but dealt no blow. Without the poison, he would be little challenge.

Regaining my feet in an instant, I struck with elbows and knees, but my foe was almost as swift to recover, and only one of my blows connected. He whipped his sword into action, and then I knew that my pride would claim its victim today. As a last chance, I struck his arm, using the blade's momentum to turn it. Then, I struck at the hand hard enough to drive the blade it held deep enough to kill. It didn't work. The assassin avoided his sword point, cut me with his dagger, and I fell to the ground with cold creeping toward my heart.

 

I awoke, much later, surprised that I yet lived. While no poison could cause more than unconsciousness to one of my training, I had expected a sword blow to end my life. I was certain that such a skilled assassin would have known of my resistance. Still, the quick mind I have always prided myself on (though that pride itself is a flaw in my focus) adjusted quickly. If I yet lived, I must be a prisoner. Death was not the intent of the enemy after all, at least not immediately.

 

After a single deep breath to regain my concentration, I leapt in a single movement to my feet. My heart filled with anger, though I quenched it immediately. I stood in a magical arena, with walls of rolling, purple magic. The depths of the darkness called the eye, trying to capture the mind with their darkness. Through my concentration, I ignored the dark grip. Then I saw that I was watched by a red-robed mage hovering above. In an even tone, I spoke, still forcing myself to abandon anger and to concentrate.

 

"Why have you brought me here?"

 

"Through the passing of the centuries, I grow bored."

This statement immediately brought a new level of anger, which I crushed mercilessly. That failing I could not allow, not even in the face of the crimes which a bloodrobe mage would commit to gain centuries of life.

The mage continued;

"You are here for my entertainment. You will fight my creations, my minions, and others like yourself, until I grow tired of you and kill you. By my arts, I will keep you from that death until then."

 

Another wave of anger poured into me, but this time I was able to dismiss it in under a second. A battle needs concentration.

 

The sand of the arena shifted, and I leapt aside a full second before a monstrous worm burst its head from the ground. At least my instincts were still sharp, even if I had allowed pride to overcome me.

 

 

 

(to be continued)

 

Please feel free to offer feedback; I plan to extend this soon.