NaNo will be deafeated!
Nov. 27th, 2004 03:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cygna_himeSodium nitrate 12.1, because I got a good long way and felt like breaking it up. 2,892 words. Warning: Gratuitous overuse of words and talking like Paarfi. One 61-word sentence within. Grammatically correct to boot. Fear.
Further warning: I should not be allowed to write action scenes. Ever.
Chapter 12
“Tir!” Lin Rel stepped automatically in front of his sister, as if to protect her from this hitherto unexpected danger. Nen Sol, for his part, simply stood there in the tunnel, smiling vaguely, which Lin Rel understood through long acquaintance meant that his friend was thinking as rapidly as he knew how, which was to say very rapidly indeed.
Mar Tir smiled, a half-grimace that seemed to be pulled across his face by main force. “Yes, it is I. Could it be possible that you were expecting to come across anyone else here? I admit, I am not one of the usual denizens, but surely you did not expect to avoid me for all that? I have, after all, been known to be in places which are not my own at certain times inconvenient, I have no doubt, for your purposes, although quite useful for mine. Does that bother you overmuch?”
“No, not at all,” said Nen Sol expansively, more out of a desire to be contrary than any real interest. “Quite the opposite, as it happens. I remarked only recently that it was entirely a stroke of luck on our part that you did appear so regularly whenever we seemed to be getting somewhere. It was a refreshing experience, to know that we are so valued to you that our small investigations are worthy of your interest.”
“Sol,” said Lin Rel, “now is, perhaps, not the time.”
“Do you really think so?” Nen Sol inquired politely, apparently wholly unaware of the danger and gravity of the situation. “I, myself, find that there is never an inappropriate time to exchange felicitations and similar conversational delicacies, rather in the manner of certain foodstuffs for which there can be no wrong time. Don’t you agree, brother mine?”
Mar Tir looked disdainfully at him with very little semblance of actual emotion. “I am certain what you say is the case, the more so since I, personally, have yet to meet an individual or, in point of fact, a group who was capable of preventing you from saying anything and everything that strikes your fancy, wherefore I have long since ceased to make the attempt.”
Nen Sol laughed. “It seems the propensity for extravagant speech runs in our mutual blood, as I could swear that those were my own words that fall so briskly from your tongue.”
“I do not doubt it,” replied Mar Tir cynically. “It has long been said that much speech conceals thought far more than reveals it, and if there is one trait so held in common by our family, surely illusion would be that one. But, apropos, do you not feel that overmuch speech, besides concealing thought, also has a tendency to wander rather far from the matters of mutual interest on which it began?”
“Such a phenomenon certainly seems not unlikely,” Nen Sol chuckled. “Come, then, to business, as Rel is growing more impatient by the second. For what reason is it our pleasure to entertain your presence?”
It was Mar Tir’s turn to laugh, less cheerily and more grimly than his youngest brother, but a laugh none the less. “I rather fancy you can guess, if you put to work that brain which I still believe, despite all the evidence to the contrary, is somewhere inside your head.”
Nen Sol looked hurt. “Now, really! Are such insults quite necessary? After all, I have politely refrained from commenting on—“
“I think you should stop there,” said Lin Rel, who had been paying closer attention to Mar Tir than his friend had, and with a rather more serious eye. “Please, Sol? We are in quite enough trouble already.”
“Oh, all right, if you insist.”
“I do.” Lin Rel continued, “Tir, we know quite well why you are here. Must we continue posturing?” The strain of the past week showed in the Bai Dan’s voice, though no sign of stress marked his ageless face.
From behind her brother, back to the comfortably cool rock, Lin Sel added, “Is this really necessary at all? Everything is so confusing, but I’m sure it could be quite simple really. And do stop trying to sound so intelligent; I can barely put up with it from Sol, as it is.”
Mar Tir scowled at her. “I do not have to attempt to sound intelligent, for the very simple and far from confusing reason that I am. That being the case, I wonder what you think you can do if I were to refuse to comply.” One strand of his flame-colored hair twitched warningly. “I have, it seems, a profound advantage over you as regards both power and, I hope I can say, skill. Therefore, on the basis that might, if it does not make right, at least calls for a certain degree of respect and a not unmarked tendency toward obedience, it is my pleasure to speak as I please and, moreover, to require of you a statement of intent before proferring one myself.”
“In that case, we may as well give it to you,” said Lin Rel. “We are here to find Mother, as I am sure you did not need us to tell you.”
“Really?” Mar Tir looked at them with his eyebrows raised inquisitively. “And might I inquire as to who informed you that Fan might be here? You can scarcely expect me to believe that you decided to search here on a whim.”
“You wouldn’t?” asked Nen Sol with a crestfallen air. “And here I was, perfectly ready with a most plausible explanation,” Lin Sel giggled despite herself, “featurng no less than a misread map, an interesting butterfly, and just such a whim as you describe, the better to better your knowledge of events. Yet, it seems, unhappily, that my beautiful explanation will not be required. Such are the woes of the world!”
“Nevertheless, I am afraid it is my duty to press you for the facts of the matter, rather than the fancy,” said Mar Tir dryly. Suddenly, a strange expression crossed his face, as if he was remembering something that pleased him. Almost he smiled. “However, it comes to me that, under these peculiar circumstances of which, I regret to say, you know little, my duty can be construed as irrelelvant to your source of information. That is, it matters not how you arrived here, but simply that you have. Therefore, I propose that we eschew the discussion, not least because I cannot think of a way to prevent my brother from telling his fanciful story if given the twentieth part of a chance, and proceed instead to the more pressing question of whether you are going to leave of your own free wills or be forcibly ejected by yours truly. Have you any suggestions?”
“Oh, beyond doubt,” Nen Sol said. “For example, it could be considered that those are not, by any means, the only presentable options. We could, I suppose, progress instead down that passage which seems to have furnished an admirable hiding place, or alternatively continue in our determined path without undergoing the formality of a formal farewell, although I admit we might become slightly scorched. Or,” he grinned impishly, “we could always choose the option which I personally would best prefer, and discover by experiment whether or not you can remove us when we do not want to be removed.”
“Really?” said Mar Tir, a matching grin to Nen Sol’s beginning to spread itself across his face. “I hope that I may take that as an invitation which, I must inform you, I am not disinclined to accept, although I would not, of course, in the interest of politeness, have offered it myself.”
Lin Rel stared at his friend. “Might we have a moment to speak privately?” he managed to ask.
“Of a certainty,” replied Mar Tir with a bow. “Don’t by any means hurry yourself into a decision.”
Lin Rel grabbed Nen Sol’s arm and dragged him around to face him. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” he asked in a ferocious whisper. “Do you really want to fight him? He’s twice as strong as you!”
“Does that matter?” Nen Sol laughed recklessly. “I haven’t been avoiding practice as much as you think I have; I think I can promise you it will be even, at the very least.”
Lin Rel glared at the expression of bravado on his friend’s face as if trying to splinter it into pieces to reveal the frightened person underneath. It didn’t crack, though, and all he could say was, “You might be right, at that.”
“I think Sol’s right, Rel,” said Lin Sel over her twin’s shoulder. “He doesn’t have to be able to beat him, just give us a chance to help, and—“ She stopped. Lin Rel was shaking his head sadly. “What is it?”
“He doesn’t mean for us to help, Sel. He wants to fight Tir alone.”
It was Lin Sel’s turn to glare at Nen Sol. “Are you—you really are mad! What are you thinking?”
He grinned disarmingly in the face of their frowns. “Well, you cut your hair very short when you left home, didn’t you? Even I can see it hasn’t grown back yet. If I have little chance of beating Tir this way, then the two of you have next to none at all. Do you want me to have that guilt on my head?
“Even if I don’t win straight away,” and it was the first time Nen Sol had ever been heard to admit he could do less than perfectly, “you two will be all right. I’m going to get the flames away from the stairs first chance I get, and when I do, the two of you had better run for it. Fan can’t be too far away, and I’m sure I can hold him long enough for you to get a decent start on him.”
Lin Sel, seeing the inveitability of Nen Sol’s prevailing, shrugged and retreated to stand next to the burning entrance, but Lin Rel stayed by his friend.
“Can’t you just run with us? You’ll end up as bad as Mother was if you don’t, you know.”
“Maybe I will, and then again, maybe I won’t! But either way,” Nen Sol winked, “I could never pass up a chance like this to see how good I really am at using my power. Could you?”
“Yes!”
“Well, of course you could. You always have been the sensible one, and don’t you dare ever change that! I would have to become sensible, and that would be horrid.”
Lin Rel tried, one last time, to sway his best friend’s decision. “Could you at least let one of us stay to help you?”
“Not under any circumstances!” Nen Sol laughed once more, tossing his head. “Sel is the only one who can find Fan at all, you know, and as for you…” He looked at Lin Rel for a long, silent moment, his eyes, so pale a blue as to be almost colorless, boring into Lin Rel’s with an unusual intensity. When he finished his thought, Nen Sol’s voice was softer and more serious than it had ever been.
“You, Rel, are the last person I would dream of putting in danger.” With a quick, almost birdlike motion, he pressed his lips lightly to Lin Rel’s cheek, and with a subtle gesture of his hands raised the surprised Bai Dan and set him down neatly beside his sister. Ever smiling, Nen Sol turned to face Mar Tir once again. “Shall we play, then?” he inquired. “Or have you any preference as to location that would require a readjustment?”
“Not in the least,” replied Mar Tir. “This place pleases me as much as any other, for the purpose to which we are bound.”
“Splendid!” Nen Sol stood there, arms at his sides, and his long, silver hair slowly rose into a nimbus around his head. A fresh breeze began to play down the passage, as if coming from nowhere. As for Mar Tir, he had prepared himself as well: his hair was dancing like leaping flames, and sparks leapt from his skin.
“Let us commence, then.”
“By all means.” The wind in the room spiraled around Nen Sol for the barest fraction of a second, then sped from him directly to the flames that blocked the stairwell, pushing them aside through pure force. For the moment, the way was clear, and Lin Sel lost no time in taking it. She had to pull her brother by the hand to get him to follow her rather than stare blankly at Nen Sol. As soon as they began to climb the stairs feverishly, the wind relaxed and the curtain of flame over hung the entrance once more.
Mar Tir laughed harshly. “Do you believe that they will escape me?”
“Well, they certainly have a larger chance now than they had before, do you not agree?” Nen Sol smiled as his winds returned to his side. “And, after all, what better way is there to raise the stakes than to ensure that you stand to lose something as well as I?”
“What,” said Mar Tir as a blade of flame began to form around his left hand, “do you have the effrontery to suppose I can lose from this, no matter how it ends?”
“Oh, I think the simple fact that they may escape you yet qualifies as a loss, don’t you? After all, is it not your goal to prevent us from accomplishing the mission we came here for the purpose of completing? Our success ought to make your failure, when you consider things logically.” Without appearing to concentrate, Nen Sol spun a sword the match of Mar Tir’s, a smooth weapon of wind that wrapped its hilt up his right arm.
“Do you think they will succeed?” The two Bai Dan clashed together, their weapons shuddering from the impact but holding. Mar Tir gritted his teeth as he worked to parry Nen Sol’s attacks. The younger Bai Dan was the more skilled in swordfighting, and though Mar Tir had been the one to begin the duel, he showed himself fairly disposed to ending it.
“Yes, I rather think so,” Nen Sol said cheerily as he fought. “Sel and Rel can both be very stubborn when they feel like it, almost as stubborn as I am, though not quite. It simply refuses to occur to me that anyone up to and including Father could possibly be more stubborn than the pair of them combined. Perish the thought!”
“You might find,” growled Mar Tir through gritted teeth, “that determination doesn’t count for as much as you think.”
“No? Then what does? A-ha!” Nen Sol’s sword came within an inch of slipping past his opponent’s guard. Mar Tir avoided it only by abandoning the duel of swords and springing lightly backward out of range.
“Strength, for one thing, and I can see from the state of their hair that they have too little. Short hair is excellent for hiding, but not so convenient when you need to fight again.”
“They will be just fine,” repeated Nen Sol resolutely. “They always are.”
“You, on the other hand, are not going to be so fortunate.” Mar Tir stood very still for a moment, focusing all his power on the wheel of fire that slowly took shape in the air before him. “Playing with children is all very well and good, in its place, but now is not that place, and I have more important business to attend to than humoring my little brother in his games.”
“Hey, now!” Nen Sol said, affronted. “I’m not that much younger. Nor, as it happens, that much weaker.” The tips of his hair spun a similar circle in the air, and wind rushed to fill the shape. Soon, two circles, one of air and one of fire, hovered opposite each other in the stone passage. Behind Nen Sol, the fire abruptly went out, as Mar Tir focused all his power on his new creation.
With a cry, the Bai Dan launched their attacks toward each other. The two rings of power flew forward, colliding in midair with a near-blinding flash. Rather than consume each other, they seemed to grow stronger, combining into a ferocious whirlwind of fire and air that threatened to consume both of its creators. Mar Tir and Nen Sol pushed on the tornado with their power, each attepting to force it toward the other. Both were breathing hard, but Nen Sol was tiring more quickly, and the tornado was beginning to turn steadily his way. Inch by inch it moved toward him, getting closer and closer with each moment, until the outermost tendrils of the flame licked at his pale face. With all his might, he tried to force the tower of fire away.
But to no avail. The flames seemed to leap forward, enveloping Nen Sol in its blaze. He screamed just once, as the inferno raged around him with horrible ferocity, burning his face and his body but most of all his hair, his hair whose burning split his mind with pain more than everything else combined. Then the flame collapsed, and so did he, falling unconscious to the stone floor.
As he fell, all the wind everywhere died.
Waaah...I'm sorry, honey! I love you! (Unfortunately, their physiology has cunningly defeated my angsty ending. Stupid self-controlling characters.)
Further warning: I should not be allowed to write action scenes. Ever.
Chapter 12
“Tir!” Lin Rel stepped automatically in front of his sister, as if to protect her from this hitherto unexpected danger. Nen Sol, for his part, simply stood there in the tunnel, smiling vaguely, which Lin Rel understood through long acquaintance meant that his friend was thinking as rapidly as he knew how, which was to say very rapidly indeed.
Mar Tir smiled, a half-grimace that seemed to be pulled across his face by main force. “Yes, it is I. Could it be possible that you were expecting to come across anyone else here? I admit, I am not one of the usual denizens, but surely you did not expect to avoid me for all that? I have, after all, been known to be in places which are not my own at certain times inconvenient, I have no doubt, for your purposes, although quite useful for mine. Does that bother you overmuch?”
“No, not at all,” said Nen Sol expansively, more out of a desire to be contrary than any real interest. “Quite the opposite, as it happens. I remarked only recently that it was entirely a stroke of luck on our part that you did appear so regularly whenever we seemed to be getting somewhere. It was a refreshing experience, to know that we are so valued to you that our small investigations are worthy of your interest.”
“Sol,” said Lin Rel, “now is, perhaps, not the time.”
“Do you really think so?” Nen Sol inquired politely, apparently wholly unaware of the danger and gravity of the situation. “I, myself, find that there is never an inappropriate time to exchange felicitations and similar conversational delicacies, rather in the manner of certain foodstuffs for which there can be no wrong time. Don’t you agree, brother mine?”
Mar Tir looked disdainfully at him with very little semblance of actual emotion. “I am certain what you say is the case, the more so since I, personally, have yet to meet an individual or, in point of fact, a group who was capable of preventing you from saying anything and everything that strikes your fancy, wherefore I have long since ceased to make the attempt.”
Nen Sol laughed. “It seems the propensity for extravagant speech runs in our mutual blood, as I could swear that those were my own words that fall so briskly from your tongue.”
“I do not doubt it,” replied Mar Tir cynically. “It has long been said that much speech conceals thought far more than reveals it, and if there is one trait so held in common by our family, surely illusion would be that one. But, apropos, do you not feel that overmuch speech, besides concealing thought, also has a tendency to wander rather far from the matters of mutual interest on which it began?”
“Such a phenomenon certainly seems not unlikely,” Nen Sol chuckled. “Come, then, to business, as Rel is growing more impatient by the second. For what reason is it our pleasure to entertain your presence?”
It was Mar Tir’s turn to laugh, less cheerily and more grimly than his youngest brother, but a laugh none the less. “I rather fancy you can guess, if you put to work that brain which I still believe, despite all the evidence to the contrary, is somewhere inside your head.”
Nen Sol looked hurt. “Now, really! Are such insults quite necessary? After all, I have politely refrained from commenting on—“
“I think you should stop there,” said Lin Rel, who had been paying closer attention to Mar Tir than his friend had, and with a rather more serious eye. “Please, Sol? We are in quite enough trouble already.”
“Oh, all right, if you insist.”
“I do.” Lin Rel continued, “Tir, we know quite well why you are here. Must we continue posturing?” The strain of the past week showed in the Bai Dan’s voice, though no sign of stress marked his ageless face.
From behind her brother, back to the comfortably cool rock, Lin Sel added, “Is this really necessary at all? Everything is so confusing, but I’m sure it could be quite simple really. And do stop trying to sound so intelligent; I can barely put up with it from Sol, as it is.”
Mar Tir scowled at her. “I do not have to attempt to sound intelligent, for the very simple and far from confusing reason that I am. That being the case, I wonder what you think you can do if I were to refuse to comply.” One strand of his flame-colored hair twitched warningly. “I have, it seems, a profound advantage over you as regards both power and, I hope I can say, skill. Therefore, on the basis that might, if it does not make right, at least calls for a certain degree of respect and a not unmarked tendency toward obedience, it is my pleasure to speak as I please and, moreover, to require of you a statement of intent before proferring one myself.”
“In that case, we may as well give it to you,” said Lin Rel. “We are here to find Mother, as I am sure you did not need us to tell you.”
“Really?” Mar Tir looked at them with his eyebrows raised inquisitively. “And might I inquire as to who informed you that Fan might be here? You can scarcely expect me to believe that you decided to search here on a whim.”
“You wouldn’t?” asked Nen Sol with a crestfallen air. “And here I was, perfectly ready with a most plausible explanation,” Lin Sel giggled despite herself, “featurng no less than a misread map, an interesting butterfly, and just such a whim as you describe, the better to better your knowledge of events. Yet, it seems, unhappily, that my beautiful explanation will not be required. Such are the woes of the world!”
“Nevertheless, I am afraid it is my duty to press you for the facts of the matter, rather than the fancy,” said Mar Tir dryly. Suddenly, a strange expression crossed his face, as if he was remembering something that pleased him. Almost he smiled. “However, it comes to me that, under these peculiar circumstances of which, I regret to say, you know little, my duty can be construed as irrelelvant to your source of information. That is, it matters not how you arrived here, but simply that you have. Therefore, I propose that we eschew the discussion, not least because I cannot think of a way to prevent my brother from telling his fanciful story if given the twentieth part of a chance, and proceed instead to the more pressing question of whether you are going to leave of your own free wills or be forcibly ejected by yours truly. Have you any suggestions?”
“Oh, beyond doubt,” Nen Sol said. “For example, it could be considered that those are not, by any means, the only presentable options. We could, I suppose, progress instead down that passage which seems to have furnished an admirable hiding place, or alternatively continue in our determined path without undergoing the formality of a formal farewell, although I admit we might become slightly scorched. Or,” he grinned impishly, “we could always choose the option which I personally would best prefer, and discover by experiment whether or not you can remove us when we do not want to be removed.”
“Really?” said Mar Tir, a matching grin to Nen Sol’s beginning to spread itself across his face. “I hope that I may take that as an invitation which, I must inform you, I am not disinclined to accept, although I would not, of course, in the interest of politeness, have offered it myself.”
Lin Rel stared at his friend. “Might we have a moment to speak privately?” he managed to ask.
“Of a certainty,” replied Mar Tir with a bow. “Don’t by any means hurry yourself into a decision.”
Lin Rel grabbed Nen Sol’s arm and dragged him around to face him. “Have you taken leave of your senses?” he asked in a ferocious whisper. “Do you really want to fight him? He’s twice as strong as you!”
“Does that matter?” Nen Sol laughed recklessly. “I haven’t been avoiding practice as much as you think I have; I think I can promise you it will be even, at the very least.”
Lin Rel glared at the expression of bravado on his friend’s face as if trying to splinter it into pieces to reveal the frightened person underneath. It didn’t crack, though, and all he could say was, “You might be right, at that.”
“I think Sol’s right, Rel,” said Lin Sel over her twin’s shoulder. “He doesn’t have to be able to beat him, just give us a chance to help, and—“ She stopped. Lin Rel was shaking his head sadly. “What is it?”
“He doesn’t mean for us to help, Sel. He wants to fight Tir alone.”
It was Lin Sel’s turn to glare at Nen Sol. “Are you—you really are mad! What are you thinking?”
He grinned disarmingly in the face of their frowns. “Well, you cut your hair very short when you left home, didn’t you? Even I can see it hasn’t grown back yet. If I have little chance of beating Tir this way, then the two of you have next to none at all. Do you want me to have that guilt on my head?
“Even if I don’t win straight away,” and it was the first time Nen Sol had ever been heard to admit he could do less than perfectly, “you two will be all right. I’m going to get the flames away from the stairs first chance I get, and when I do, the two of you had better run for it. Fan can’t be too far away, and I’m sure I can hold him long enough for you to get a decent start on him.”
Lin Sel, seeing the inveitability of Nen Sol’s prevailing, shrugged and retreated to stand next to the burning entrance, but Lin Rel stayed by his friend.
“Can’t you just run with us? You’ll end up as bad as Mother was if you don’t, you know.”
“Maybe I will, and then again, maybe I won’t! But either way,” Nen Sol winked, “I could never pass up a chance like this to see how good I really am at using my power. Could you?”
“Yes!”
“Well, of course you could. You always have been the sensible one, and don’t you dare ever change that! I would have to become sensible, and that would be horrid.”
Lin Rel tried, one last time, to sway his best friend’s decision. “Could you at least let one of us stay to help you?”
“Not under any circumstances!” Nen Sol laughed once more, tossing his head. “Sel is the only one who can find Fan at all, you know, and as for you…” He looked at Lin Rel for a long, silent moment, his eyes, so pale a blue as to be almost colorless, boring into Lin Rel’s with an unusual intensity. When he finished his thought, Nen Sol’s voice was softer and more serious than it had ever been.
“You, Rel, are the last person I would dream of putting in danger.” With a quick, almost birdlike motion, he pressed his lips lightly to Lin Rel’s cheek, and with a subtle gesture of his hands raised the surprised Bai Dan and set him down neatly beside his sister. Ever smiling, Nen Sol turned to face Mar Tir once again. “Shall we play, then?” he inquired. “Or have you any preference as to location that would require a readjustment?”
“Not in the least,” replied Mar Tir. “This place pleases me as much as any other, for the purpose to which we are bound.”
“Splendid!” Nen Sol stood there, arms at his sides, and his long, silver hair slowly rose into a nimbus around his head. A fresh breeze began to play down the passage, as if coming from nowhere. As for Mar Tir, he had prepared himself as well: his hair was dancing like leaping flames, and sparks leapt from his skin.
“Let us commence, then.”
“By all means.” The wind in the room spiraled around Nen Sol for the barest fraction of a second, then sped from him directly to the flames that blocked the stairwell, pushing them aside through pure force. For the moment, the way was clear, and Lin Sel lost no time in taking it. She had to pull her brother by the hand to get him to follow her rather than stare blankly at Nen Sol. As soon as they began to climb the stairs feverishly, the wind relaxed and the curtain of flame over hung the entrance once more.
Mar Tir laughed harshly. “Do you believe that they will escape me?”
“Well, they certainly have a larger chance now than they had before, do you not agree?” Nen Sol smiled as his winds returned to his side. “And, after all, what better way is there to raise the stakes than to ensure that you stand to lose something as well as I?”
“What,” said Mar Tir as a blade of flame began to form around his left hand, “do you have the effrontery to suppose I can lose from this, no matter how it ends?”
“Oh, I think the simple fact that they may escape you yet qualifies as a loss, don’t you? After all, is it not your goal to prevent us from accomplishing the mission we came here for the purpose of completing? Our success ought to make your failure, when you consider things logically.” Without appearing to concentrate, Nen Sol spun a sword the match of Mar Tir’s, a smooth weapon of wind that wrapped its hilt up his right arm.
“Do you think they will succeed?” The two Bai Dan clashed together, their weapons shuddering from the impact but holding. Mar Tir gritted his teeth as he worked to parry Nen Sol’s attacks. The younger Bai Dan was the more skilled in swordfighting, and though Mar Tir had been the one to begin the duel, he showed himself fairly disposed to ending it.
“Yes, I rather think so,” Nen Sol said cheerily as he fought. “Sel and Rel can both be very stubborn when they feel like it, almost as stubborn as I am, though not quite. It simply refuses to occur to me that anyone up to and including Father could possibly be more stubborn than the pair of them combined. Perish the thought!”
“You might find,” growled Mar Tir through gritted teeth, “that determination doesn’t count for as much as you think.”
“No? Then what does? A-ha!” Nen Sol’s sword came within an inch of slipping past his opponent’s guard. Mar Tir avoided it only by abandoning the duel of swords and springing lightly backward out of range.
“Strength, for one thing, and I can see from the state of their hair that they have too little. Short hair is excellent for hiding, but not so convenient when you need to fight again.”
“They will be just fine,” repeated Nen Sol resolutely. “They always are.”
“You, on the other hand, are not going to be so fortunate.” Mar Tir stood very still for a moment, focusing all his power on the wheel of fire that slowly took shape in the air before him. “Playing with children is all very well and good, in its place, but now is not that place, and I have more important business to attend to than humoring my little brother in his games.”
“Hey, now!” Nen Sol said, affronted. “I’m not that much younger. Nor, as it happens, that much weaker.” The tips of his hair spun a similar circle in the air, and wind rushed to fill the shape. Soon, two circles, one of air and one of fire, hovered opposite each other in the stone passage. Behind Nen Sol, the fire abruptly went out, as Mar Tir focused all his power on his new creation.
With a cry, the Bai Dan launched their attacks toward each other. The two rings of power flew forward, colliding in midair with a near-blinding flash. Rather than consume each other, they seemed to grow stronger, combining into a ferocious whirlwind of fire and air that threatened to consume both of its creators. Mar Tir and Nen Sol pushed on the tornado with their power, each attepting to force it toward the other. Both were breathing hard, but Nen Sol was tiring more quickly, and the tornado was beginning to turn steadily his way. Inch by inch it moved toward him, getting closer and closer with each moment, until the outermost tendrils of the flame licked at his pale face. With all his might, he tried to force the tower of fire away.
But to no avail. The flames seemed to leap forward, enveloping Nen Sol in its blaze. He screamed just once, as the inferno raged around him with horrible ferocity, burning his face and his body but most of all his hair, his hair whose burning split his mind with pain more than everything else combined. Then the flame collapsed, and so did he, falling unconscious to the stone floor.
As he fell, all the wind everywhere died.
Waaah...I'm sorry, honey! I love you! (Unfortunately, their physiology has cunningly defeated my angsty ending. Stupid self-controlling characters.)