02-23-2020, 09:05 PM
Vel put a tentative foot on the edge of the ice, shifting her weight and listening for any sound of telltale cracking. Then she took another step. Then another, ensuring the frozen water held the weight of a grown woman just as it had the young children they had witnessed earlier in the day.
It did.
A humorless smirk tugged faintly at the corner of her mouth as she removed herself from the lake, skirting along the edge of the shore and drawing the longsword from her hip. With a fluid motion, the blade chipped at the edge of the ice, sending several shards flying and cracking just enough that the heel of her boot was able to break through, revealing a small amount of the rippling water beneath--water which promptly froze into a blade along the bottom of her boot as she twisted her hand in the familiar motion.
The elf clenched her teeth, battling back the explosion of icy energy that sought to follow the release of magic, and repeated the same thing with her other foot before she stepped onto the ice again--pulling the weights she and Esara had purchased from where they were draped on her belt and affixing them to her wrists.
It’s been a bit. While awake, anyway.
She gave an experimental push, letting herself glide along the ice as she casually spun the longsword she still held in her hand, letting her body get used to the center of gravity required before she took a longer stride.
Vel’s wry smile flashed again as she twisted around, sailing backwards as she picked up speed. She adjusted the grip on the hilt of the sword, the soft scraping of the ice offering some semblance of a rhythm before she launched herself into a spin.
The blade slashed through the night air, whistling quietly as it followed the elf’s motion. She landed with a sharp scrape, one foot swinging behind her to reclaim her balance. The mage glanced back toward the snowy shore, her pale eyes scanning the town of Lakeshire for any signs of movement that would indicate that someone was coming to investigate her presence, but her moonlight-guided vision picked up no movement in the grey-hued landscape.
We should be fine.
One. Two. Three. Jump.
Once more she launched herself into the air, completing two twists of her body this time before she landed with another scrape. She turned in a fluid motion, returning to a forward direction now that the preliminary warm up was completed, and the sword spun in her hand, never fully remaining still as she started to go through the drills that Esara had shown her.
Slash.
Twist.
Thrust.
Spin.
Her foot gave way, sliding out from under her as she landed, and Vel threw her free hand out, catching herself before she hit the ice. Her legs splayed and then twisted, moving beneath her body as she shoved herself back to her feet and continued the motion.
Don’t stop. Even if it hurts. Enemies won’t care.
She tilted her center of gravity and lifted her foot into an arc through the air, the blade along the sole of her boot catching the chest of an invisible creature before she landed. Her feet barely had a second on the ground before she twisted again, this time the blade of her sword slicing near the ice--a location that would have been occupied by an enemy’s heel cord.
Another kick. Another slash. The elf covered a good deal of distance through nonstop effort, her shoulders bobbing with the exertion as she finally stopped, and her hair hanging messily in her face.
Yet for as much as she still expected it, she could barely hear her heartbeat in her ears.
The elf did a lap, her eyes flickering back to the shore again for half a moment before she held out her free hand. The tattoos along her arm began to glimmer as magic was directed to her hand and icy energy began to illuminate the dim light, imitating the flickering glow that had flowed into her eyes.
Theory alone doesn’t cover everything.
She lowered her body, twisting one foot out and hurling the frostbolt at the ground--away from the slumbering town and back out toward the lake. She grit her teeth, holding back the energy that was clawing at her to follow.
She repeated the motion, this time turning backwards and launching into another spin before the bolt of magic was released at the ground near where her feet formerly were. The magic crashed against the ice, sending shards of glimmering energy scattering across the surface before she landed with a flurry of snow kicked up by the blades at her feet.
Her muscles were starting to ache--a sensation she had been aiming for, only to ignore it as she continued to force her body into the strenuous movements she was attempting to practice.
Another frostbolt was released. And another. And another. Each one accompanied by a sharp twist or slide or spin, her sword never ceasing its movement. Each time, she fought the cold snap back, her lips parting in a grimace as the echo of the icy energy ran through her veins in pursuit of an outlet it couldn’t find.
Until it did.
A noise on the ice at an inopportune time. A lapse in focus. As the spell left her fingertips the surge of energy followed, racing along burning, protesting muscles before it escaped into an isolated snowstorm.
“Shit.”
Vel cursed with half a snarl, skidding the pirouette to completion. The start of another incantation commenced, the faint glimmer of an expansive, snowflake-like rune spreading out from a location centered on her position. The tip of her sword met the ice at its center, the flurry of motion immediate and instinctive.
Stop!
The incantation cut off, the frost nova she had started to cast incomplete and fizzling, the surge of sharp, frigid air never achieving life.
Stop.
She panted as she looked down at the sword, her knees on the ice and adrenaline pumping. Then her shoulders slumped, the reclaimed clarity allowing her to force the isolated tempest to subside and a wave of exhaustion to settle in her limbs.
The elf raised a hand to her face and rubbed the freezing blood from beneath her eyes, her other hand not leaving the hilt of her sword.
“...That would have been asinine…” she scoffed quietly, a half laugh on her breath before she let her forehead rest on the sword hilt to catch her breath.
...False life is down. Good luck explaining why it looked like you were attacked.
She sighed, brushing her fair out of her face as she adjusted her grip on the hilt of the sword and pushed herself back to her feet. Her limbs protested, the pause in motion enough for the strain of the physical activity to settle in along the remnants of the cold snap. It was an aching burn, welcome with its companionable exhaustion--signs that her body was being pushed to whatever capacity it was capable of.
I should head back. There are still… things to be done.
She started to turn to the shore, but stopped after a few feet, the point of the makeshift ice blade on her sole dug into the frozen water. She chewed on her tongue.
...but nothing that can be accomplished immediately. I’d be waiting for people up north to fall asleep.
She raised her sword and examined the reflection of the moonlight in the shimmering blade, her tongue pressed against one of her slightly elongated canines.
...strain meant nothing with Chillheart, after all. If I can keep going, I should...
The elf twisted her free hand, once again calling on her magic, but this time it seemed to run through the veins that laced beneath her skin, illuminating them with a soft blue light as the arcane energy reinforced her aching muscles. She clenched her fist and the light ceased, but the effects of the enhance ability remained.
She turned her back on the shore to start her routine again, another frostbolt manifesting in her free hand, and she launched herself into another leap