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I move slowly, emulating her stance as well as I am able. Minutes drift by as we stand, perfectly juxtaposed to one another. A wordless acknowledgement passes between us; we have practiced this dance nine hundred and ninety-nine times, long since growing to understand one another without speech or gesture. The shadow lunges forward, and I mirror the movement a fraction of a second later. Our primary blades cross in the intervening space, bringing both of us to a jarring halt as I pitch forward with all my might, straining to gain some momentary advantage. A flash of intuition strikes as I feel my dark duplicate beginning to give ground, and I release the pressure on my forward blade just before she pulls away, avoiding a potentially disastrous loss of balance. I've seen that move a hundred times by now.... My shadow simulacrum lashes out with her secondary sword, and I reproduce the movement almost perfectly, forcing our blades to clash before us once again. Another swing, another parry. After testing one another's grip, both of us again relent almost simultaneously, springing back several feet from each other. The shade lands in a crouch, and is almost instantly on the offensive, exploding into action with a flurry of blows so fast they register only as a blur to me. I throw myself into the frenzy of flashing blades, reproducing the movements purely by memory. My speed surprises me. Our weapons collide six, even seven times between each racing heartbeat, filling the abyss with ringing metal thunder and sprays of sparks from the clashing of steel on steel, as though we stand amidst a storm of swords. The pace is punishing, forcing me beyond every limit I ever thought I had just for the sake of keeping up. Each time our steel meets my body trembles from the shocking vibrations. My lungs burn with exertion and my heart seems ready to explode. The relentless exchange only grows faster and more furious, forcing me past the limits of my endurance, until every movement registers a new ache or pain. We break, again throwing ourselves backward several paces to open a wide gap between us. The distance between is too great for even the shadow to cover before I would be able to react, granting me a few scant moments to lower my guard and try to catch my breath while I await the inevitable rejoinder. As we stand in the eye of the storm, the voice returns to me, from me. "What lies beyond my blade?" "My victory!" For the first time I feel a hint of confidence returning to my voice when I answer. The words become my battle cry as I launch myself into the space that divides of us, leading with my shorter blade protectively crossing my body while the longer sword lags behind, following the arc of my jump closely. The full momentum of my charge carries forward into the overhead slash, forcing the shade to retreat several steps more to escape the potentially crushing blow. The inertia keeps me moving, slicing again and again at the shadow. Each time she escapes by a matter of millimeters, barely twisting her body or ducking her head out of the way of my incoming blades. The close calls bolster my confidence, and I begin to push harder, alternating between my paired swords with renewed vigor. |
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