How I Won My First Battle by Ben Church b_church@yahoo.com Feedback! Please! The Immortal Concept belongs to someone else. It was only about two weeks since I returned from Tut's wedding. Fortunately for me, I'd received some more training from both Tut, and his friends. It was raining. I was returning to my dorm room my last class when it hit me. It was familiar by now, it no longer bothered my stomach, just sort of a buzz. I turned, looking for anyone unfamiliar. He was standing just a bit away. Staring at me. Good thing for me I had my sword with me all the time. Being Immortal had made me paranoid. I approached him carefully. I hoped he wouldn't start anything in such a public place as the quad. Actually I kind of hoped he wouldn't start anything at all. No such luck. "I am Tiernan." he said with a thick Irish Accent. "There can be only one." "I am Sean Fogerty." I said, mentally cursing. "And this isn't a good time." The man smiled sympathetically. "It never is boy. Meet me in the woods near the park. In a half hour. Make any arrangements you need." He walked away then, towards the park. What should I do? Run? I didn't want to die, and I wasn't so sure I was ready to fight anyone. Though Tut and my other teachers insisted I was. I sighed. Running would accomplish nothing. If I ran now, I would just be running for the rest of my life. A half hour later, we faced each other in a secluded clearing. The rain had increased, which only seemed all that more appropriate. He didn't waste time with words. He just attacked. I parried his first couple of thrusts easily. He was testing me. When he began in earnest I was hard pressed just to keep him from penetrating my defenses. But I'd been taught by the best, and I wasn't about to let them down. Using mostly tactics taught to me by Gabrielle, I leaped, rolled, kicked, and soon, to my own astonishment, I had him on the defensive. Then, more through blind luck than any skill, I knocked the sword from his hand, and brought him to his knees. I stood shocked, staring at the man whose throat I now pressed the point of my blade against. "I don't want to kill you." I told him, but caution warned me not to take my sword from his neck. "That's admirable." he smiled, not perturbed in the least by his defeat. "But you see, I want to die." I tried to keep my surprise from my face. I must have failed. "I'm from Ireland as you can probably guess." he said. "But what you don't know, is that I was born long before the Celts asserted their influence on the land." I'd never been much good at math, and history was far from my best subject either, but I figured he was really old, almost as old as Methos. "The knowledge and power that I have, must be passed on to one who is worthy. I believe you are worthy. Take my head. And with it, all that I know, and am. Please." He grinned then. "I'm bored with life." I took a deep breath, and tried to get a handle on what I was supposed to do. "If you're sure." I said. He nodded. So I swung. My first Quickening. Woah. It was a rush, but it was painful too. My brain felt like it was going to explode. It was not comfortable. So I guess I won't become a headhunter. But anyway, that's how I won my first battle. The End.