Malenia was a mighty falcon, every sweep of her blade carrying the force of thunder rolling across the horizon. Millicent, by contrast, was a swift, darting through the storm with wings spread wide amid the wild song of sword strikes, refusing to be knocked from the air even beneath a downpour of attacks.
The difference lay not only in their skill and fighting styles, but also in their sheer size.
The Empyrean Malenia was taller than an NBA center. Both Skyl and Millicent barely reached her chest. The difference was almost like putting a grown adult against a child.
The battle reached a fever pitch almost immediately.
Skyl retreated to the side and watched the two crazy women who apparently knew no language except swordplay. Part of him wanted to shout for them to stop fighting.
Then again, watching two swordswomen beat the hell out of each other was undeniably entertaining, so he swallowed the words and quietly munched on spicy potato wedges while enjoying the show.
Considering Millicent and Malenia were related by blood, this was not merely an action spectacle. It also came with a generous helping of family drama.
The entertainment value was exceptional.
Malenia was blind.
If someone had not personally witnessed the ferocity, precision, and effortless grace of her swordsmanship, it would have been difficult to imagine that anyone could develop compensatory senses and blind fighting to such an extraordinary level.
Her long prosthetic blade was forged from Unalloyed Gold. When it moved, it resembled the golden arc of the setting sun along the horizon.
Her body, ravaged by Scarlet Rot, emitted an impossible-to-ignore odor, like overripe berries left to mold, sickeningly sweet beneath the stench of decay. The inside of Malenia's body was probably already like rotting timber, hollowed out by corrupted flesh.
Even so, every one of her movements radiated astonishing vitality.
Although much of her body had been replaced with prosthetics, there was not the slightest trace of mechanical stiffness in her movements. She moved with breathtaking grace.
Millicent survived the first thirty exchanges largely because of her familiarity with Flowing Swordsmanship.
They had learned from the same tradition, making their techniques naturally difficult for either side to counter.
Unfortunately, Malenia's mastery was plainly superior.
The killing experience accumulated across countless battlefields completely overwhelmed a young woman like Millicent, who had nowhere near the same depth of combat experience.
It was only natural.
A kitten still learning to walk had wandered into a fight with an old fox.
Under the tremendous pressure, Millicent became like a bowstring drawn to its absolute limit. Every movement Malenia made demonstrated a higher realm of Flowing Swordsmanship.
For someone devoted to the sword, the experience was exhilarating.
Millicent continued growing between life and death.
She might have possessed the ability to return after dying, but every life remained real while she was living it. She gave everything she had to the present moment. She did not grieve over the past, nor did she torment herself over the future.
There was only now.
If Millicent could survive training of this intensity, her swordsmanship would inevitably advance tremendously.
Unfortunately, Malenia had already seen through everything she could do.
Her wrist turned slightly.
Her body barely seemed to move at all, yet the tip of her blade suddenly struck like a snake.
In less than the time required to blink, the blade was already approaching Millicent's throat.
Millicent's body reacted before her conscious mind did. The tiny muscles along her neck contracted violently, raising goosebumps across her skin.
The attack had come completely without warning.
For a fraction of a second, Skyl, watching from the side, seemed to see Malenia grow ten arms, each holding a different sword.
Only one was real.
The others were afterimages burned across his vision.
Skyl focused.
His subjective perception of time slowed instantly, allowing him to clearly observe every response the two women made while moving at tremendous speed.
Flowing water could roar like a flash flood.
It could plunge with the majesty of a waterfall.
Or it could become a treacherous current lurking beneath an apparently peaceful surface, invisible until it wrapped around your body and dragged you under.
Malenia's strike perfectly embodied that last aspect of water.
Quiet.
Deceptive.
Merciless.
Millicent bent backward so violently that her spine seemed ready to snap, narrowly evading the blade as it traveled upward from her chest toward her throat.
Had she failed to dodge, her entire chest would already have been split open.
But Malenia's sequence was not finished.
After completing the upward slash, she effortlessly transitioned into another movement. She hopped backward, avoiding a low kick from Millicent, while allowing the blade to follow the motion of her body.
The sword dropped toward the ground like the flowing train of a gown.
Then it severed Millicent's supporting leg.
"Ah!"
A short, muffled cry escaped her.
Skyl tilted his head and briefly closed his eyes.
When he opened them again a moment later, Millicent was lying in a pool of blood.
Her torso had been cut into three sections.
That was the cruelty of combat.
A single mistake could leave someone permanently crippled or simply dead.
And everything happened within fractions of a second.
Victory and defeat could be determined in a single instant, leaving absolutely no room for careful thought.
Rational people avoided placing themselves in such battles.
They looked backward and decided life was too precious to waste.
They looked forward and saw too many possibilities to abandon.
But some people never thought that way.
They wanted their lives to burn like meteors.
Every burden they had carried through the past and every beautiful thing they might have experienced in the future became fuel for a single blazing instant in the present, when they hurled themselves toward death and shone more brightly than ever before.
To become a star in the night sky.
To illuminate the darkness.
Or perhaps simply to illuminate someone else's road.
Millicent was unquestionably such a person.
Lying in the pool of blood, she slowly raised one hand and looked up at the towering Empyrean.
The light gradually faded from her eyes.
Malenia turned away and walked toward Skyl.
She left Millicent with nothing but the sight of her back.
Having disposed of the strange young woman who had challenged her, Malenia apparently decided that the random spectator eating potatoes was next.
"Do you know who you just killed?"
"She introduced herself," Malenia replied in a tired but steady voice, as though what she was saying were self-evident. "Millicent, Blade of Skyl."
Her voice remained cold.
"Her ability was far beneath mine. With such inadequate strength, she could protect no one. A nameless warrior claiming a title beyond her station only invites humiliation."
"You're not wrong."
Skyl stood up.
"But I am Skyl."
He looked toward Millicent's body.
"And you just killed one of mine."
Skyl raised his right hand.
A cluster of silver flame appeared above his palm.
It was Mystic Fire drawn from the Silver Weave, an exceptionally profound manifestation of magic in its purest form.
In Toril, something similar existed in the form of Silver Fire, a power wielded by the Chosen of Mystra, whose most famous wielders included Elminster and the Seven Sisters.
The flames rose like a miniature hurricane within his palm.
Skyl closed his hand.
The Silver Fire exploded outward like a swarm of fireflies.
His fingers reached into the light and pulled out a seemingly solid sword of silver radiance.
The hard white glow illuminated Skyl's face, casting deep shadows across his features.
"By tradition, shouldn't I introduce myself too?"
Before Skyl could finish speaking, Malenia's blade was already in front of him.
Bzzzt!
Skyl raised his sword and blocked.
The Eldritch Blade collided with Malenia's physical weapon, producing a humming impact reminiscent of lightsabers crashing together in Star Wars.
"You local powerhouses have absolutely no manners. You could at least let me finish my dramatic introduction."
Skyl laughed and stepped backward.
His body suddenly vanished into a blue Door.
A moment later, he emerged ten paces away.
Then, at last, he gave his introduction properly.
"I am Skyl, wizard of Hogwarts, warlock of Toril, High Tower King, god of the Silver Law, Master of the Tower of Tomes, and Plunderer of the Golden Order."
His silver sword pointed toward Malenia.
"Since the day I began walking the worlds, I have never known defeat."
He smiled.
"You have no chance of winning either."
Malenia gave a low, contemptuous laugh.
"Meaningless boasting."
She suddenly leaped into the air.
Waterfowl Dance.
Skyl raised his sword.
The first assault came with thirteen slashes.
Their trajectories crossed one another, flashes of cold light blooming like a flower opening for a single night.
Skyl responded as though fighting his own reflection in a mirror.
One sword stroke against another.
Every one of Malenia's attacks was countered by a strike of equal force, equal speed, and precisely opposite direction.
The forces canceled perfectly.
The second assault carried Malenia through the air and around behind Skyl.
Fourteen slashes.
He did not even turn around.
He reversed his sword behind his back and blocked.
Every strike landed against the spine of his blade.
Not one managed to penetrate his iron defense.
Then came the third assault.
Nine slashes sweeping horizontally from both sides.
Skyl suddenly compressed his body.
His arms and legs folded toward his abdomen. His chest contracted and his knees bent until his previously upright body seemed to collapse into a compact stone sphere.
The transformation was so dramatic that it looked almost like a Shrinking Charm.
Malenia forcibly altered the course of her prosthetic blade, aiming for Skyl's suddenly exposed back.
It was a critical instant.
But the moment Malenia changed her attack, the seemingly flawless wings of Waterfowl Dance revealed an opening.
Skyl had been waiting for precisely that moment.
His legs slammed against the ground.
His folded body exploded backward like a steel spring released after being compressed to its limit.
All of the stored elastic force became explosive momentum.
The sword concealed against his chest shot backward with him.
For an instant, Skyl himself seemed to become the spearpoint of a cavalryman striking behind him.
He slipped directly through the tiny gap between the interwoven blades and sword energy of Waterfowl Dance.
Shhk.
For the first time, Malenia's cold expression changed.
She lowered her head.
Skyl was leaning backward beneath her, looking directly up at her face.
The Eldritch Blade had pierced straight through her abdomen.
It emerged between the vertebrae of her lower back.
The silver point shone brilliantly.
Not a single drop of blood clung to it.
"Your Waterfowl Dance..."
Skyl looked into her sightless eyes.
"I've figured it out."
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