Prologue
The night was warm, even for July. The wild winds swept over the cliffs and through the sparse forest that made up Shilhesistra, the land of the Wildcats. The middle aged grey wildcat stood on a hill outside of the village. The glow of fires in the longhouses was far outdone by the flames of Salamandestron. A tan wildcat joined him. "Hello LoMinang Onstane." she said, her soft, slurred Shilhesistran accent carrying worry. He turned his green eyes to her "Is it over Shalra Hemeog?" he asked, his accent betrayed nothing. She shook her head "Not yet, Chief." He nodded and turned his back to her "Isn't it beautiful?" he asked, gesturing north, to the fire mountain. She followed his gaze "Aye, but dangerous too. Many fear that place." He nodded "They are wise then. That is the place of the fire lizards. It provides a beautiful glow, does it not?" She nodded "Aye, and that glow of adventure has lured many wise ones to death." Just then a yellow colored wildcat rushed up "It's over Chieftain! It's a son!"
Chapter One
He awoke, not knowing where he was. The small, wooden room with four beds was foreign to him. Then he remembered the long journey last night. He knew where he was. He sat up in bed, stretching his torso, well muscled despite his youth. He had had many active hours as a child. He got out of bed and looked around for his cloths, the black silk with green flame embroidery. He couldn't find them, or any of his belongings. Suddenly a face stuck out from under the sheet of the bed next to his. "Hello." The black cat whispered "My name's Torora. Are you new here?" he blinked, speachless. She giggled "Your clothes are over there." She pointed to a blue robe which he hastily donned. "What's your name?" she asked. "My name is LoMinang Son." He answered. She giggled "You have a second name, you must be nobility." His chest swelled with pride "My father is the Chieftan of the clan of LoMinang." She nodded, not impressed "My father's a blacksmith of the tribe Keerah. He says it's as important as any nobility. Are you new here?" he nodded sadly, remembering his home "Aye. I arrived last night." Suddenly he heard footsteps outside. She whispered quickley "That's Master Nachifa! He will want to talk to you. I must pretend that I'm asleep!" She shut her eyes and rolled over quickley as the door opened slowly. A cat with long golden fur and benevolent grey eyes entered softly and looking around, met the child's eyes. He gestured and the young grey wildcat followed him out of the room.
* * * * * *
Neither one said a word until they were outside of the compound, then the golden cat turned to him. "Hello. I am Master HaOna Nachifa." The young wildcat blinked at the second name "You are nobility?" The older cat shook his head and laughed softly "You go right to the point. I am not nobility by birth but I was given my title for my skillful swordsmanship." He lead the young wildcat through a small forest. Nachifa gave him a shrewd look "I can tell pleasentries would be wasted on you. I came to discuss rules with you. Now that you are staying at my school of fencing, life will be different." He waited for a few seconds and, when the young wildcat had not responded, continued. "There are stricter rules here because discipline is an important characteristic of a warrior. You will go to sleep at sunset every day and wake up at sunrise." They reached a beach and they walked along it, watching the twilight sky. "There will be no fights among students because self control is also very important. The rest of the day will be spent in lessons on warriorship, except for one hour after lunch. Then you will be free to do whatever you want. Any questions?" the young wildcat thought a second and then said "When will I leave?" The older wildcat smiled. All children asked that question. "You will leave when I have no more to teach you. For some that is four years, for others twenty." The young wildcat nodded. The golden cat waited for more but, when it didn't come, he gestured towards the compound. "Come, they will be serving breakfast."
* * * * * *
The young wildcat walked into the big building that served as the mess hall. He looked around at the multitude of cats, all colors and all ages. He saw Torora waving to him from a side table so he went and sat down opposite her. "Hi." She said "We sit in our sleeping groups so this is where you eat every day." He nodded. "So," she said "What did he say?" He stared at the wood of the table "He explained the rules." "Oh," she giggled "Was that all?" A brown cat walked down the table, putting a wooden bowl of a white, soft substance in front of them. He smelled it. It didn't smell like anything he had ever tasted before. "What kind of meat is this?" he asked. Torora smiled "It's not meat silly. It's potato!" He had never had potatos before, nor anything but meat. Vegetables and the like were for the commoners. He poked it with a wooden spoon and, seeing Torora eating hers with gusto, he took a small spoonful and tasted it. It was thick and hot, with a somewhat sweet, grainy taste. He didn't think it tasted Too bad so he took another spoonful, and another, and another. He looked up to see Torora looking at him, a laugh in her light brown eyes and a smile on her lips. "What's so funny?" he asked. She only smiled bigger "This is your first time eating anything but meat, isn't it?" He nodded "Yes." She giggled. "So, how do you like it? It's all they give us until lunch." He took another spoonful "I like it. What's for lunch?" She shrugged "Usually some sort of stew. Stews make up most of what we eat." He nodded and finished the rest of his potato stew quickley. Then the cat with the golden fur walked to the front of the room and said in a loud voice "Alright, everyone to your classes, newcomers, follow me."
* * * * * *
It turned out that the whole of the young wildcat's sleeping group were newomers so there were four of them, plus Master Nachifa, that met under an old oak tree in the middle of the sparring ground. The sparring ground was a huge dusty courtyard inside the compound walls where lessons took place. The golden furred cat stood under the tree and they sat around him. "I am Master Nachifa. You are the newcomers here. You are also all in the same sleeping group so you will be working together. It is important for a warrior to know his comrades well so you will introduce yourselves." The young wildcat listened interestedly as a long, white haired, cat went up there and shyly introduced herself as Haarba, daughter of a merchant. He paid attention while Torora the blacksmith's daughter introduced herself. He waited patiently while a tan cat named Eroi named all of his famous warrior relatives. Then, when it came his turn, he stood and said, very simply, "My name is LoMinang Son." At this all of the others were silent. Everyone knew of the clan of LoMinang. He felt important, slightly proud. The Master frowned in thought. The young grey wildcat could be trouble if his pride was not checked.
* * * * * *
The young wildcat stood in the center of the sparring ground later in the evening. The other newcomers were standing with him, listening to Master Nachifa. "Okay," the golden cat said "This is your first sparring match. This is to see where I should start teaching you seeing as you have doubtlessly had at least some training prior to this. Do any of you not have a weapon?" The young wildcat raised his hand, along with Haarba. Master Nachifa pulled two rapiers from where a row of them was stuck in the ground and handed the weapons to them. "These will be yours to use for as long as you are here." The golden cat looked thoughtful for a second. The cheiftan's son needed a lesson in humility. The warrior's son, Eroi, seemed the best fighter. "LoMinang Son, you will be matched against Eroi. Torora, you will fight Haarba. Now, face each other and begin." The young wildcat faced the warrior's son, smiling as he fingered the weapon he held. The tan cat's sword was obviously a family heirloom, it was old and it's blade did not shine. Still, it seemed of good make, he would have to be careful. The tan cat gave a short bow and, after the cheiftan's son had responded, he went into what the young wildcat recognized as Third Position Attack. The tan cat stood with his sword arm to his enemy, his sword arm stretched out away from his body, left arm held in the opposite direction for balance, standing on the ball of his feet. He waited a second then made a quick lunge, sword arm stabbing outward. The young wildcat heard Master Nachifa's voice in his mind, 'First Position.', and he went into First Position Defense. He leaned away from his attacker , holding both arms close to his body, sword pointed upwards. He used a small flick of the blade to send the lunging sword wide to his left. He reached out with his left hand to grab the opponent's wrist and held it there. The he leaned forward slightly, switching to First Position Attack and flicked the blade point, still held close to body, out towards Eroi's throat. He saw suprise in his adversary's eyes then anger. Eroi went to an unconventional side kick into the young wildcat's stomach. LoMinang Son, doubled up in pain, still sensed the wild left hand punch coming towards his face and ducked, sliding past the arm and up close to Eroi, past his guard. He delivered a quick right jab and saw his rapier's solid wooden basket hilt connect with Eroi's jaw. The tan cat reeled backwards, spitting out blood. The young wildcat charged him, left hand readying its self for a punch, when Eroi leapt up and lunged, grabbing LoMinang Son around the waist and taking him to the ground. The tan cat kneeled on his chest, swinging his right fist down. The young wildcat felt the blow connect over his left lung and felt his body jerk under the force of the blow. The warrior's son had strength in his arms. The young wildcat pushed both arms up, pushing the tan cat off of him. Eroi recovered quickly though and lunged before LoMinang Son had a chance to recover. The young wildcat raised one foot, which he planted firmly in the other's stomach and, grabbing the tan cat's arms, hurled the warrior's son over his head. He heard a smack and got up quickly to see the tan cat sprawled on the ground a few yards away. He lifted his left arm to punch and felt a searing pain where Eroi had punched his chest. He winced and felt two arms wrap around his chest, he did not struggle though but stood limply, the fight gone out of him. He saw Master Nachifa kneel by the still sprawled warrior's son and pour a small amount of water on him. The tan cat sat up groggily, wiping blood from his mouth and standing shakily with Master Nachifa's help. The young wildcat was begining to feel pain also and would have stumbled several times on the way back to his sleeping quarters, had not the same cat still be holding him tightly. He undressed and climbed into bed, aware that the tan cat was doing the same. He then blew out the candle and was almost asleep when he heard a sleepy voice from the other bed whisper "Good Match?" He yawned loudly and replied in a whisper "Good Match." The two combatants were sound asleep by the time the others came in.
Chapter Two
The air was crisp when he stepped out of the cabin, barely dulled by the warmth the sun was starting to bring. The dew glittered on the pebbles strewn amidst the dust, sending small rainbows soaring over the empty sparring ground, sailing to land on the golden cat's feet. He smiled as he strode across the dusty courtyard to the gate. He took a small golden key out of his pocket and unlocked the ornately carved gate. He took a step out past it, closing and locking it behind him. He turned his face in a westerly direction, towards the sea. He took off with long strides, running at an easy pace. He crossed the small, rocky, road that led to the gate and ran into the forest. Here the dew that had found it's way through the trees sat on the moss, making it moist and soft for his feet. He ran the well known path, ducking large branches and making running leaps over others. As he left the forest he leapt over a large rock, twirling in the air, laughing aloud with the joy of being alive. He ran along the sandy beach, until he saw a large rock protruding out of the water. Then he let loose and began a mad dash, feet sinking into the moist sand until he had gained enough speed to float on it's surface. He reached the large rock and, jumping on the small stepping stones, he vaulted up onto it and landed on one hand. He stayed in that position for about ten minutes, then he switched to the other hand. After another ten minutes he switched to his left leg, standing balanced on his toes for fifteen minutes. After that time was up he did the same with his right leg, standing as still as the rock he stood on. Then he lowered both feet to stand on the rock and he drew the sword at his side. He held it up to the light, watching the sun play over it's jade basket hilt, the golden grip with the red corral pommel stone. Then he leapt into the air and spun, swinging it high and marveling, as always, in how the rising sun shone red off of the blade. He landed effortlessly in the advanced Fourth Position Dodge, body horizontally balanced low on one foot, and from there spun up on one toe in a Modified Cyclone Rise. From there he melted seamlessly into Second Position Attack, right arm held out slightly from body, left arm up for balance. He went through every single Position of the Sword that he knew, melting it into an intricate dance on top of the rock there. Then, after about an hour and a half had passed, he stopped and stood, standing on top of the rock out in the sea. He smiled and laughed as he stood there, feeling the strong sea breeze that smelled of salt whip through his long golden hair, chilling the sweat that ran down his body. He was a Sword Master. He was Alive.
* * * * * *
The young wildcat felt a bright light searing through his eyelids and groaned. He felt a small, timid, touch on his bare shoulder and opened his eyes, suddenly becoming alert. He sat up in bed quickly, tensely scanning the room. Haarba was standing by his bedside, looking very suprised, Eroi was still lying in his bed, chuckling. He felt his senses returning and groaned, slumping back in bed and raising one hand to block out the morning sunlight. Eroi chuckled as Haarba apologized profusely for startling him. "I could have told you that would happen." The tan cat chuckled "The Cheiftan's Son sleeps with a daggar under his pillow." Seeing Haarba's shocked look only intensify he hastened to explain, "It's only a figure of speech." The young wildcat took his pillow and threw it at the warrior's son, hitting him straight in the face. Then, as Haarba turned respectfully away, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and donned his robe, Eroi following suit. He then walked past Haarba to where his rapier stood in it's sheath, leaning upright against the wall. He picked it up and took it with him back to the bed. Master Nachifa had taught them that every morning you should polish your sword and rub it down with oil. He drew it from it's sheath and for the first time he really looked at it. It had a grip of soft white leather with a solid, undecorated, wooden handguard. It's blade was long and silvery, it's pommel stone was a small, slightly curved, ivory spike. It did not shine like a nobleman's blade, but looked well used. A fighter's weapon, if not a warriors. He took a cloth with a small vial of oil from a pouch on his belt and, pouring some oil on the cloth, proceeded to wipe it down. He looked up after a second and saw Eroi watching him while polishing his own. Eroi smiled, "Have you named the blade yet?" The cheiftan's son shook his head, slightly puzzled. "Every blade should have a name" the warrior's son said "Mine is named DarkHound. What will you name yours?" The young wildcat looked at the blade and a name sprung to mind, almost as if it had been pre-picked. "Fang." He said simply, and the warrior's son nodded approvingly and went back to cleaning the blade. The young wildcat caressed the sword with the cloth, working the oil in. Fang.
* * * * * *
As he strode away from the mess hall, full from breakfast, he realized that he hadn't seen Torora at the sleeping quarters or breakfast. He wondered where she was. As the young wildcat crossed the dry, dusty, sparring grounds he saw her talking to Master Nachifa over under the tree. He strode over and saw Master Nachifa's eyes meet his. He saw the golden cat nod and stand, motioning Torora to do likewise. The golden cat smiled at him as he arrived, "Good, you're on time. We are just about to start today's lesson. Where are the others?" The cheiftan's son saw them running over the sparring grounds towards them just as Master Nachifa said "Oh, look, here they come!" The young wildcat was slightly puzzled. Master Nachifa seemed... different. He was happier, more carefree. Master Nachifa spoke as the other two arrived, breathless, "Now. Yesterday I taught you the three basic Positions. From what I've seen", he smiled wryly at the two male cats, "You still need more practice on them. So today we will dedicate ourselves to sparring, and then there will be a little suprise at the end." Suprise, the young wildcat thought, what could that be? "So, Eroi, you will sparr with Haarba today and Torora, you and LoMinang Son will hone your skills together." Master Nachifa smiled. The proud young wildcat needed taking down a notch and the new moves he had just taught Torora should do the trick.
* * * * * *
The two cats faced off. The black cat's rapier was a bright one, obviously made by her father, with a intricate silver vine pattern on the steel basket hilt. LoMinang Son shifted his feet in the dust. How could Master Nachifa pair him against a Girl? He needed a Challenge! The black cat went into Second Position Attack, sword arm held moderately out from body, left hand up for balance. The young wildcat smiled and went into Second Position Defense almost automatically. As she made a quick flick of the swordblade he danced in and swiped at her side, but she leaped nibly back, kicking up dust in his face. He coughed and backed away, looking around for her. He saw her in a Position that Master Nachifa had only Barely explained, Fourth Position Attack. She was crouched low, balanced on one toe, with the other foot behind for support. Her sword arm was out to the side. It was a position for wide, low, sweeping blows. He rushed her, thinking to do a Third Position Defense on the run. All of a sudden he felt a compulsion, almost as if the sword didn't want to go to the Position, it was trying to drag him to First Position Defense. He was puzzled and overcame the feeling as he rushed. He slid into Third Position Defense and all of a sudden Torora exploded from her low Position into a weird move, spinning upwards on one toe, sword sweeping around her. His overextended sword took five hits before it flew out of his hands and he found himself, stunned, laying in the dust. The small black cat smiled and held out her hand "Want to try again?"
* * * * * *
He hit the dust. Four matches and four defeats later, his respect for a girl's fighting had risen a notch. He took her offered hand automatically, pretending not to see her little smirk. He went and retreived his sword from the dust and went into a ready position. He saw her raise her blade into a Third Position Attack and make a lunge. He sidestepped the lunge, almost clumsily he was so tierd, and flew in closer. Suddenly she was in a position he had never seen before. She stood with her feet alittle more than shoulder width apart, blade straight down, point in the dust. She crouched, looking ready. He decided it was no use stopping so he continued to go. Suddenly he felt that strange feeling, as if his blade was trying to do something on it's own. He was so tierd, he gave in.
* * * * * *
The golden cat watched the sparring from under the trees. Haarba had been downed numerous times by a now impatient Eroi. He glanced over to where LoMinang Son was just rushing in to attack Torora for what must be the fifth time. He saw her go into Cresent Swipe Position and waited for the grounded blade to come arcing up. Suddenly the young wildcat switched to the hard to master Spinning Blade Position, twirling the sword between his fingers like a twig. Before the golden cat could blink an eye the young wildcat had executed a perfect Spinning Blade Defense. Just as the black cat's blade went up he shoved his twirling blade in there, knocking hers off course. It was to her credit that she did not loose the blade and went to a Second Position Defense. The young wildcat stepped back a few paces and stood in Spinning Blade Position. His left side was towards the black cat, arm and leg extended. His right leg was bent slightly at the knee, slanting his shoulders. His right arm was held up behind his head, ever twirling the blade. The black cat recovered quickly and went in with a Second Position Attack. She was a brave girl, but he could have told her it would be useless. The method of fighting called Spinning Blade had a whole different set of Positions and only the best Masters could master it enough to fight with it. And it seemed that the young wildcat had mastered it somehow because as the black cat's blade poked tenatively his spinning blade flicked out, striking sparks off of it. Then he stopped the spinning and went into a series of very quick chops, striking more sparks against her unconventionally held up blade, his blade always returning to the Spinning Blade Position. Then suddenly he threw his blade to his other hand and flicked out the blade tip, executing a perfect Right Handed Disarm. Her blade went flying to land in the sand and layed there. The black cat stood in a shocked First Position Defense, her blade gone. Eroi and Haarba stood staring. Then the golden cat recognized the blade.
* * * * * *
The young wildcat stood, staring at the blade, until he felt a hand on his shoulder and saw the golden wildcat smiling down at him. "May I see the blade?" he asked. The young wildcat handed it to him dumbly. The golden cat turned it over and over until her saw the ivory spike pommel stone. Then he smiled. "This was the blade of the greatest Master of the Blades to ever live. His name was Naura Meiken. He was a master of the Spinning Blades method." The golden cat gave him a pointed look and continued "This blade sang his honor well." He held it up and swung it in circles around his head. It whistled a grim tune through the air "It still does." Seeing their puzzled expressions he smilied and explained "There is a saying that is circulated among warriors, It goes, 'The day your blade sings honor, you are a warrior. The day it stops, it is the day you die.' They say he died holding this blade." The golden wildcat handed it back then gazed on it again musingly "What was it's name again?" The young wildcat answered almost automatically "Fang." The golden wildcat smiled suprisedly "Ah yes. That was it. Fang."
Chapter Three
After they had finished eating dinner the golden cat walked up to the front and center of the huge mess hall. He raised his voice so that people in the back tables, like the young wildcat and his comrades', could hear him. "As is traditional," he said ", The three new huts will face each other in a mass sparring round after dinner." There was a roar of cheers from the people who had been there longer. They obviously loved this match. Eroi leaned over and whispered to the young wildcat "I've heard about this. They've been doing this every year for about a hundred years straight. The last time they didn't do it was the summer when the Badger Lord and his hares attacked us." The young wildcat wrinkled his nose somewhat annoyedly "You could have warned us." The warrior's son shrugged and smiled "And ruin all the fun?" The golden cat explained the rules, which were basically that you weren't allowed to cut or kill anyone. If you had your sword knocked out of your hand or you were touched in a vital spot then you were out. Then he dismissed them, telling them to be ready and on the feild as soon as they could.
* * * * * *
The young wildcat opened the door of his cabin and strode out slowly onto the sand filled sparring ground. The dark blue robe, with a slit up the front, swished as he walked to where the others were gathered. He had Fang hanging loosly at his side, his eyes carefully watching as he approached the group. He found where the rest of his cabin group was standing among the others. Master Nachifa stood in the middle and, as another cat jogged up he said "I think we can begin now. We will be going to the forest. As I said, you are not to harm one another. Your blades will be covered with a few wraps of leather to prevent any accidental injuries. Now, There are three older cats here who will guide each respective group to their starting point. So go with them, and good luck." The young wildcat saw a older black cat leading the group in red robes away. A cat with an almost blueish tint to his grey fur lead the group in green towards the forest. An older cat came to stand in front of him. His fur was a brownish red, like the clay by the river. His blue eyes looked at the young wildcat. "Feeling better today?" he inquired. At the young wildcat's puzzled look, the red cat laughed. "I suppose you wouldn't remember, but it was me leading you away from your... mishap... yesterday." The red cat turned to the rest of his group "My name is Ehud Shamgar." The young wildcat studied the red cat's eyes puzzledly. There was something unusual about them. He realized that, while eyes as light of a blue as Ehud Shamgars were usually looked like ice, the red cat's eyes looked more like flames. They danced with silent laughter and passion, a depth of flame dancing in his eyes. The red cat gestured tehm all towards the forest. He handed them all strips of leather. "You can wrap your swords on your way out." They walked out of the compound and into the forest. The red cat lead them to a section of the forest with the beach behind them. "Now." He said "You will be going inwards to the middle of the forest. You must 'kill' as many members of the opposing teams as possible. If you are 'killed' report back to the sparring ground. When all have been defeated, I will blow this horn." He held up a curving ram's horn. He put it to his lips and blew a blast that made the world shake, a full sound that had an element of the whole world in it. "That is the signal for beggining." He said "I suggest you split up, so you can cover more ground."
* * * * * *
The young wildcat walked cautiously between the trees, dark blue in the darkening sky. Suddenly, he rounded a tree and saw a female cat standing there. She looked shocked but automatically went into Second Position Defense. He ran and suddenly felt an impulse from the blade. He slid in the moss, under her guard, slashing upwards. The soft leather connected with her red robe right where her ribes ended. She looked shocked and, as he got up, walked off in the direction of the compound, looking sad for some reason. He walked on. Once when he rounded a tree he saw Eroi standing there. They blinked at each other but relaxed. "How many have you gotten?" Eroi asked. "One." The young wildcat answered. The tan cat shook his head "None here." They nodded at eachother and went in opposite directions. The young wildcat came over a hill to see two green robed cats waiting for him. Their golden eyes glinted like coins in the darkness, obviously twins. They advanced from separate sides, they had had some training before. He took a low defensive position. They cricled around him, one in fron, one in back. Suddenly he felt an impulse and did an amazing standing backflip. He saw the blade of the one behind him sweep where he had been. The young wildcat jabbed him in the back and he stepped away to watch his brother. The other cat took a more careful position "You fight well for a child." He said. Anger filled the wildcat's blood and he just gave in to the sword. He melted into the Spinning Blades Position and beckoned mockingly with hsi hand. The cat came in, doing a jab at his unguarded chest. The young wildcat spun to the side and ducked and the cat's blade adjusted it's course to sweep over his head. He swep a leg through the other cat's legs, knocking him to the ground. The cat did a backwards sommarsault up and darted forwards witha jab. The spinning blade met him and struck sparks in the darkness. The young wildcat ducked low and swept up an uppercut, clicking the cat's jaw and stunning him. The the young wildcat rose and stroked his blade across the cat's stomach, almost delicately. The cat shook his head to clear it and walked off silently, his brother supporting him. The young wildcat jogged off into the night again, adrenaline rushign through his veins, off to hunt.
Chapter Four
He flew, he and the blade, all through the night. He thought he must have gotten them all by now, he had lost count at seven. Suddenly, just as he topped a hill, breaking through the trees into a clearing, he saw what must be the last one. It was a shadowed figure in the middle of the clearing, bright blade sning in the moonlight. Suddenly he blinked and stopped in his attack run. The creature's blade was not covered, it's ears too long to be that of a cat. The creature turned as it heard his approach. Their eyes met, neither wildcat nor hare blinking an eye. Then slowly the young wildcat unwrapped his blade, bringing it up into a ready position. The hare also slowly raised his blade. He motioned theyoung wildcat forward with two fingers, a small, almost hidden movement. The young wildcat took a few steps closer when suddenly he caught movement in the bushes to his left in his peripheral vision. Only his lightning reflexes and the impulse of the blade saved him as he jumped back, the hare who ahd lept from the bush's blade just missing him in a powerful downwards strike. The young wildcat felt himself hit a soft body behind him. Two arms wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his side. He threw himself into a backwards flip, his feet catching the hare from the bushes in the chin. His momentum threw him backwards , the hare holding him falling on his head. The young wildcat melted into a backwards sommarsault, rolling over the hare. He examined the hares and quickly named them in his mind. The first one he designated Number One. The one that had come from the bushes was Number Two and the one that had ambushed him from behind was Number Three. Number Two was just standing, rubbing his jaw. Number One sprang over Number Three's prostrate body, blade extended in a Lightning Impale. The young wildcat also lunged forward, his blade extended. He leapt right past Number One, barely missing him. He snapped his right elbow backwards and felt in connect with something hard. He heard a grunt behind him, but didn't pause to think. He continued on his lunge, towards the still groggy Number Two. The hare didn't even raise his sword. The young wildcat felt little resistance as he quickly moved the blade to that the hilt smashed into the hare's skull. The hare dropped without a sound, unconcious. He barely had any warning but he reflexively moved his shoulder two inches to the left. A blade whistled by, causing his robe to flutter. The wildcat spun his blade in his hand, reversing it and stabbing backwards. His blade passed through Number Three's thigh, cutting into an artery. The hare gasped and dropped his blade, a think warm fluid spurting onto the young wildcat's arm and he slid from the blade. The wildcat turned to see Number One standing there. Number One dropped his arm to his side. The young wildcat smiled "You are wise to fear a warrior of the clan LoMinang." Then the young wildcat took three steps back and motioned for the hare to take the bodies of his comrades and leave. Only after the all three were over the next hill did the wildcat relax, shivering suddenly in the cold night air. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and spun, he found himself face to face with Ehud Shamgar. The red cat smiled "I was watching you." His flame blue eyes danced with some inhuman mirth. "It was quite... impressive." The young wildcat panted, still not fully at ease. "Why didn't you help me?" The red cat smiled and laughed softly "You didn't seem to need any help. I would have come had you needed it." Somehow the red cat's detached attitude only made the young wildcat feel more uncomfortable. Together in silence, they headed back towards the compound. When they arrived the last few of the contestants were just arriving. When he walked up to his group Haarba gasped and covered her mouth, pointing at his arm, and then promptly fainting. Torora and Eroi rushed over to see what the fuss was. They too looked shocked and it was only then that he felt the wetness covering his whole arm, his dangling swordblade also covered in the hare's blood. The two of them rushed him back to the cabin where, while Eroi helped him out of his clothes and into bed, Torora got some warm water to wash the blood. The young wildcat was overcome with a sense of intense fatigue and he fell asleep to the gentle rythm of the water splashing up his arm.
* * * * * *
When he awoke in the morning it was light. He dressed quickly, feeling much more rested, off to the breakfast hall. He sat at his table, where they were just beggining. Eroi leaned over the table eagerly, his eyes shining. "What happened? Master Nachifa would tell us." Torora interected annoyedly "Let him finish breakfast at least! There's plenty of time later." Eroi grunted, but leaned back, waiting until the potatoe stew was finished. Then he raised an eyebrow "Well?" The young wildcat was about to answer when he heard a horn and a shout. The horn was clear but melodious, flowing past him. He and the others rushed to the top of the compound's walls, crouching low next to where Master Nachifa stood so that they could see. The young wildcat saw a hare with pure white fur and startlingly green eyes standing alone there. He was dressed in a sand colored tunic and bore only a horn and a sheathed rapier. The hare saw Master Nachifa and drew his blade. He raised it high and the young wildcat watched in awe as the sunlight danced on the sparkling blade, all the way down to the golden basket hilt, glittering off of inscribed badger runes. The hare spoke loud and clearly. "Last night a patrol of three hares was attacked in the woods near this place. One of them died from bloodloss due to a wound in his thigh and another will be an idiot for life due to several blows to the skull. Only one survived and he said that a wildcat of the clan of LoMinang was responsible. Is there such a wildcat here? If so I challenge him to stand and fight, for my older brother's blood calls for revenge and I, Swanswone of the Salamendestron Long Patrol, will avenge him!" Before anyone could speak a word, the young wildcat stood and drew his blade slowly, letting it rest at his side. He spoke calmly. "I am LoMinang Son. I accept your challenge. Are you ready?" The hare sneered "But you are just a child! How did you kill a good hare warrior?" The young wildcat laughed and answered "How did I? With great ease, hare." The hare clenched his teeth in rage. "Come down and fight then, vermin!" The young wildcat nodded and began to descend the ladder, aware of the stares of all present. Master Nachifa met him at the door. "I must do this." The young wildcat stated. "I know." The golden cat stated just as calmly. "I came to wish you good luck."
* * * * * *
The young wildcat strode out onto the grassy place where he would fight the hare. He went and stood about two feet from the hare. The hare must have been 5 ft 8, with was about three inches taller than the young wildcat. The hare drew his sword into a ready position. The young wildcat also drew his. The hare smiled and swept his blade from side to side. Somehow the blade seemed separate from the hare, and the young cat noticed that it did not sing. The young wildcat merely smiled back and the fight was on. The both of the circled, the hare no longer smiling, the wildcat smiling a toothy smile, only the tips of his teeth showing. The hare flicked the magnificent blade's tip forward. The young wildcat deflected the quick jab easily and flicked his bladepoint out towards where the collerbones meet under the neck. The hare drew back, the blade passing harmlessly an inch short. Instead of drawing the blade back however, the young wildcat kept it out and crouched, chopping the blade down towards the hare's knee. The hare jumped to one side abruptly, off balence. The young wildcat took that oppertunity to do a side kick to the hare's coller bone. The hare staggered backwards. The young cat jumped and put his hand on the deltoid nerve cluster, pushing himself up and over the hare, numbing the hare's left arm at the same time. The young wildcat landed in a crouch behind the hare and slashed in a circle. The shining blade Fang passed smoothly through the flesh behind both of the hare's knees. The hare fell to his knees, hamstrings cut. The young cat carefully walked up to the hare, suspecting a last desparate move. The hare slashed blindly upwards at the him but the young wildcat knocked the shimmering blade back, it's point lodging in the hare's neck. The hare, for his credit, passed out and died silently. There was a hush over the whole ground. The young wildcat had made his first kill, earning his second name. The young wildcat turned it over in his head, LoMinang Swanswone. He liked the sound of it. Fang fell from his hands to the dust as he walked towards the corpse. He drew the blade from the hare's neck. No matter how mysterious Fang had been, this blade was an extention of his arm. He raised it. The sun glinted and it shone like Salamandestron's flame! The school erupted in a loud cheer! The young wildcat, LoMinang Swanswone, swung the blade over his head. The blade sang Honor o'er the corpse that day, and the now dead hare joined in the refrain.