OTP: wheesun

Summary: Just another duel between a talented young swordsman— impatient and self-satisfied and a wise tenured knight— patient and self-assured. Does it end all the same, or does something change the end of the game?

A/N: Another practice and the wheel of fortune landed on wheesun. Idk what this is... don't expect me to know what I'm doing (my writing style is: hoping for the best).

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Wheein watches the lively city below and beyond the ceramic railings of the raised gazebo— the private training ground for simple duels. The beautiful colors of spring crawl on the whites of each pillar of the circular place. The roof is adorned with mirrors, reflecting the patterns beneath.

And the tiled-floor made each step of the boot obvious, the apprentice’s ear was tickled by familiar footsteps.

“Master.” Wheein greets, hands behind her back— all too pleasant smiles present on her face. “You’re early.”

It was mocking.

The young apprentice had her leather shoulder guard, its metal plating stretched down until the brace protecting her forearm — it was the only armor she wanted to wear. Much to several elders’ dismay. It’s all she needed, Wheein argues, even a hidden weapon behind her shoulder was there just in case.

“Why is it,” Yongsun walks— her rapier resting on her waist— the long metal dangles in her slow steps. Stretching her shoulders— they were free to maintain her agility. Only a leather tunic and chainmail was necessary for her type of defense. “That you’re always late for a lecture but for training, you start earlier than… early.”

“You know why, Master.” Wheein bows, her sheathed sword dangles for Yongsun to see. The curve hilt of her blade— sheathed wrongly, the ending bend was upright.

Yongsun holds back a smile, each time the apprentice shocks her with respect, she finds herself in a joking mood. “Perhaps, you don’t. Shall I tell you?”

Their shared distance remained the same when Wheein chuckles and mirrors Yongsun’s circular steps after her bow. The space between them was enough for a pre-fight bow, a sign of respect between equals. But were they?

“If I didn’t spectate you in your recent lecture, I would say you are eager to apply your learnings. But,” Yongsun stops in her tracks, her dominant foot forward as her hand ghosts her rapier. “I witnessed you getting scolded again, so are you eager to prove them wrong?”

The master unsheathes her thin blade; it stretches, pointing at the invitation of a friendly duel. Eyes focusing ahead of her, and a hand resting behind her back as the other twists her wrists to align the cross guards of her weapon, as if she’s hawking Wheein from a waiting stance.

Wheein responds with her weaker hand removing the single-edged sword from its restraints. The long and curved blade running along the length of her arm as her thumb touches the bent hilt.

Counter-intuitive, self-defeating, but… interesting choice nonetheless.

The apprentice’s eyes move from her master’s footing then to her face, finally to the pointed weapon, she responds. “Ready?”

“Isn’t it I, who asks?”

Without another word, Wheein rushes forward, her blade lagging behind her, only the metal bracing of her dominant arm defending her front.

Yongsun retreats her extended sword— having the hilt close to her chest, the blade aligns along her nose. Twisting it, she lunges forward.

The heavy clash of metals rang their ears in their parry.

Yongsun’s patient eyes scrutinize Wheein’s upturned blade and determined gaze.

Wheein slashes her arm down, Yongsun trips forward— the sharp edges of their swords sing and scintillate until their cross guards meet in a deep thud. 

In a cunning smile, Wheein twists her wrist, their guards lock at the base, her dominant hand follows— aiming to steal her master’s sword. 

A palmed strike cuts off Wheein’s breathing, tightening her chest in a push. She stumbles and staggers down and back— Yongsun had retreated her blade and, for the first time in desperation, used her left hand.