The two figures stood across from each other, illuminated only by the flickering torch light. Both held blades longer and sharper than longswords. The occasional drip of water from the cave ceiling could be heard. One of the figures held a curved silver black blade, with a single wicked edge. The other held a bone white blade with one edge being straight, and the other side serrated like a saw, the points heading towards the hilt. Both wore full plated armor, one in a silver black, which was slightly covered with a shadow fog like substance. The other wore night black armor, it’s surface blending in with the shadows around it.

One’s helm was fashioned like a stoic warrior, ready to fight; the other had a higher class feel, radiating intimidation and experience. The gauntlets were gripping the blade’s handles, both slightly relaxed enough to prevent clunky movement. Both figures had matching stances. Neither moved as the flickering torch light slowly burnt out.

Two red orbs were slightly visible behind one helm, the other contained a brilliant green on the right side, the left was as dark as the moon less sky on a cloudy night.

The fight started with the final flickers of light. A quick twist of the blade causing light to reflect towards the other’s visor. A powerful dash brought the two within arms reach. Sparks and the sound of metal hitting metal. The thrust was warded off with expert ease. Another flash in the fading torchlight, and sparks ran off the armor along slash mark appeared where the shimmer went by. A leg kicked towards the other, who staggered back from the blow, a small dent appeared where the leg had hit.

Blades shimmered and were swung at blinding speeds. The two weapons looked like lines of death. Armor was dented and cut, chips of bone and metal flew through the air in sparks. Two lines of red where blazing out of one of the helms as the two fought, the other had a similar phenomenon happening.

All together, there were five lines of light. One bone white, another silver black, two red, and one green. As the battle continued on, very slowly after images started to appear. Each image was a different pose that had happeded in the fight. Soon the white and red lines seemingly started to gain the upper hand.

A kick separated the two long enough for the after images to fade. Both armors were worn from the battle. The bone blade had chips and fractures in it, but the Blade had none.

“MID” a voice sounded out, and the two resumed their onslaught. The tide had turned and the speed had once again increased.

It was faint at first, but slowly there was a pattern building in the sword swings and clashes. The footwork that the figures performed were the base and tempo, complementing and inhibiting the others. The clashes of blades was the melody, notes and beat. Clashes on the armors was the percussion, the whistle of the blades as they cut through the air began to sing two sad songs.

Both songs were about warriors, one was a proud knight, the other an adventurer.

The Knight’s song told of his tales and deeds, his love and his duty. The pride he felt when protecting his city, and the sorrow of it when it fell. The anger at himself and his failures, and his regret for dealing with a necromancer. The blinding rage he felt during his undeath and the loss of all hope of freedom.

The adventure’s told of adventure and treasure, the unknown, and the risk to find it. The amazement of sights unseen, and the adrenaline of battle. It told of the hope for peace, and the chance to settle down. The sadness of losing friends, and the happiness of gaining new ones. It told the wonders that nature hold, and battles hard fought.

Both songs were nearing their climaxes, and they sped up to even higher speeds, increasing in intensity and strength. One sang of sorrow, the other for hope. Mirages of each of their songs started to appear in their sword patterns.

The Knights showed a dazzling white city, overtaken and covered with crimson blood. Armies attacked the white city, yet it held under all attacks.

The Adventurer’s showed vast green plains, mountains covered with snow, and a night sky. Northern winds and sleet covered the plains.

It ended suddenly, and without warning to those who could not understand the battle’s song. The dazzling images of the blade swings clashed and dissapeared. One’s blade was knocked up, the other turned and performed a quick thrust. The sound metal puncturing metal and flesh rang out.

The Knights song had ended, while the Adventure’s sang of a mighty, yet remorseful triumph.

With the song’s end, silence prevailed. A thump, and the sound of metal on rock could be heard. The clattering of a blade falling from the ground.

The two figures were next to each other, one standing, the other kneeling. One had dropped their blade, being run through by the other’s blade, pierced in the final moments of their fight.

A raspy voice, one that seemingly had not spoken for eons, came from one of the helms.

“Thank...you...it was...probably...the...best...fight...yet.”

The formerly Red orb eyes were now a human brown, filled with regret, sorrow, and wisdom.

“No soul deserves to live on when their time has come, I will remember this battle of ours.”

The other responded.

“Heh…..you fight like a master…..but you have a heart of kindness….keep it. Hold onto it. Or you will suffer…. the same fate as I did. Finally... I’m coming home... Carol”

With that said, the chuckling Red Eyed undead started to crumble into dust, his form fading as his soul passed on. The demonic armor burned and turned to ash. All that was left of him was his Bone Blade, which was laying on the ground, and a pile of ash and dust.

The fractured and chipped bone blade had barely survived the dance. While it still had the white sheen, it no longer was straight and sharp.

Henry and his stream were shellshocked. It was a battle that very few people could understand by watching it just once. The audio playback showed that there was actually no music playing, yet the sounds that were heard sounded like an epic song. It didn’t take long for people to realise that the music was of blades and of armor. The battle was so quick and precise that every movement created a tune. Two sides telling their pasts, manifesting in the world around them.

The video was quickly rendered and brightened for easier viewing, and what they say was astounding. The two figures, each armed with a similar weapon, using very similar styles, danced. From the kicks to the readjustment of limbs, all of it seemed like a deadly dance.

Emerald picked up the bone blade, and put it away.

“Let’s get out of this cave.” she said as she turned back to where they had come from.

“What about the treasure room?” Henry asked

The helm turned towards Henry, her voice had a twinge of cold. “They are defiled treasures. At one time i might have taken them, but not now.”

She continued to walk towards the exit, her foe’s blade in hand.

Henry followed close behind, however when they were nearing the exit, the sight of Emerald’s shadowy figure leaving the cave left an impression on him.

It was stoic and alone, walking forward towards the light. If there were any person who deserved their peace in life, she would be one.

Henry had to rush forward to catch up, only to smash into Emerald’s arm, which was held out to stop him. Unfortunately, it clotheslined him.

“OUCH, what was that for?” Henry said, holding his hurt nose

“Do you know them?” Emerald said, pointing towards the bushes outside the cave.

“What are you talking about? There is nobod...Oh… crap baskets.”