The thunder clapped after a blinding bolt of lightning flew down from the black cloud overhead which was pouring its soul down upon the castle wall on which the two men stood, facing each other, separated only by the full rising moon that had just crest the horizon, not high enough yet to be concealed by the overbearing storm. Dampened blades singing their metallic war cries was the only sound that contrast the growling roll that dominated the sky when the two men squared with each other, boots brushing across the stone floor upon which they fought. Though all features of the pair looked reflectively similar, their clothing was the single thing that set them apart. One bore the honorable symbol of the Musketeer, background by the rich blue tunic that expressed the type of elite loyalty confessed by he who wore it. The other boasted garb of a noble: vibrant colored, expensive fabrics dyed with imported inks. Yet when a wrist cross lock brought the pair nearly nose to nose, only their crossed blades between them while they snarled their hatred for each other, one would notice that their faces were identical.
The bitter ring of blade-on-blade depicted the separation of the men and once again they faced off, aiming the sharpened tips of their polished rapiers at the ready toward each other. The man dressed in the Musketeer's uniform clutched his side desperately from the wound that was inflicted upon his shoulder earlier, the blood seeping and paling his skin from the pain. Every injury that the man of his past scarred him with had the opposite effect of what Olivier desired; his resolve was strengthened rather than his spirit weakened.
"You grew into an utter fool, Athos," the nobleman chuckled with his bloodied rapier in hand, evidently amused with the entire confrontation. It made the Musketeer's brow twitch. "You can't kill me. I'm too much of what you are. I'm what makes
"You're a baseless, detestable illusion, Olivier," Athos retaliated toward the nobleman, his face wet and streaming with rain. He should have expected no less but the brutal force that was against him, he pondered, for Olivier was always a man of competence. "I've already defeated you, dear Count. You simply boast the inability to realize when you've lost."( Collapse )