Chapter 42: The Flori
As she raised herself to stand, she saw her companions fighting off a group of elves, Ger was shooting them down with his arrows, but they narrowed in on him, making him grab his sword instead. Axel was swiping his axe around as three elves agilely dodged his swings. Evanna glanced to her right to see Ronan also narrowly evading swords from three elves around him. Behind him, Cilv was taking down elves as she went, using her nails and daggers.
There were so many circling around them Evanna could not keep count. This assessment all took but three seconds as she soon found who she was looking for—someone in charge.
Racing forwards, she leapt over swords that swung towards her then skidded on her knees, swiping her own blades underneath two elves along the way, causing them to fall in pain. Jumping back up with force behind her, she lunged forwards and took down another two elves that guarded a tall, muscular, dark brown elf.
His brown locks were tied into tight ropes pinned in a half-up hairstyle; one part of his head was shaved where his skin lightened from an old scar that cut across the area- an old battle scar from the looks of it. Looking all the more intimidating, his arms stayed crossed against his chest as his amber eyes scrutinised her, his face taut and tight-lipped. Not bothered by the newcomer who wanted to take him on.
Evanna continued to walk towards him after stepping over his fallen comrades, flipping her blades steadily, preparing herself.
"Garrett!" Another elf came forwards, jumping towards Evanna to defend the elf named Garrett. She quickly evaded his oncoming attack and swung both of her swords simultaneously, knocking his own out of his hands. The elf dodged out of the way, but Evanna was quicker and ended up hitting him unconscious with a smack from the hilt of her sword to his face. The elf looked very young, and she did not want to kill him; he was only following orders.
Garrett smirked at her mercy then pulled out a seraph blade that was light blue in colour. The elves really were terrific at crafting such beautiful weapons, she thought. They lunged towards each other as they started a stealthy, well played dance of sword fighting. Attacking and dodging one another, calculating each other’s weaknesses. Garrett was not as quick as her, but he kept up an excellent pace, his stamina did not falter, and he was extremely powerful. This was the first time she worried that her skills were not enough.
CLING! CLANG!
They found themselves with their swords crossed against each other. Garrett’s biceps bulged as he kept pushing his sword down towards her; he was powerful enough to cause Evanna not to use her other sword as she used both hands to push back against his strength. Gritting her teeth, she watched as her sword was getting closer and closer to her head. A bead of sweat started to fall down one side of her forehead.
"There is always a weakness, Evanna. You just need to find out what it is," Her mother’s voice came to her mind; a fragment of memory flashed across her eyes from a time before her mother was ill, and she taught her how to fight.
Evanna refocused herself on the elf in front of her. He was very skilled and obviously had a lot of experience fighting, and he was someone in charge. What do men in charge always assume when they look at her? They think she is incapable. They underestimate her. Garrett was no different, she realised after watching a smug smile crawl up his face as victory was soon to be his.