19 Vhalar 722
One spark told him it was a sturdy, non-magical piece of wood with various stress points but nothing that would cause it to break soon. It was old but not so old that it didn't have a few more good arcs left in it. It could flex a little, more than some more rigid wood but not an extreme amount. A unique quality which the spark noted and remembered. The other spark told him the wood that made the sword after a few trills of concentration so Balthazar could isolate the notes within the larger song that the waster sang to him. It had notes of violence which Balthazar recognized immediately. Of course it did. It was used to learn to fight. However with a little more focus the mage was able to divine the note which composed the majority of the waster's song. Hickory. What a strange word. It was a type of wood but Balthazar was not very familiar with it apart from when he'd experienced the feeling from his transmutation spark in the fast. It was not his first time holding a hickory waster but it was the first time he'd taken the effort to attune and learn what he was holding.
All and all, it probably didn't matter. It was a stick that was meant for training and it would be used as such. Balthazar took a breath and released the frequency of the sword before moving into position in the circle that Foy had directed him to for the beginning of the competition. Across from him stood a human with dark hair and bright eyes who seemed almost as comfortable as Balthazar did holding the waster. Maybe this wouldn't be as easy as it seemed... but even that doubt was not enough to make Balthazar consider using his boots to enhance his own speed. He was already fast, using the boots would have just felt more like cheating than it probably was.
Bramwell couldn't supervise all of the fights personally but he was walking around The Proving Grounds and assessing the skills of the combatants involved. In his stead he had brought in judges to monitor the combat and determine who struck first for the purpose of score keeping. When the score-keeper signaled for the fight to begin, the man with bright eyes wasted no time. He lunged forward with his wooden sword extended towards Balthazar's chest and the mage brought his weapon around in a sweeping arc, parrying the strike to the side before quickly shifting the tip of his sword downward to try and catch the bright eyed one on the shoulder. His opponent was quick, and recoiled from the range of the waster before it could strike him.
Balthazar shifted his wooden blade into a mid guard while bright eyes shifted into a low guard, allowing the tip of his waster to point down at the mage's feet. Bright eyes was quick but not quite as quick as Balthazar. He might have been just as good with a sword but there were other factors where he was lacking. If Balthazar had known the truth about the man before him things would have been a little different, but not much.
The second time, Balthazar lead the attack. Holding the wood sword in one hand, the mage lunged forward at his opponent who was quick to parry to the side with his own and return a swipe. Rather than retreat, Balthazar ducked under the quick horizontal swing and pushed forward, swiping his own sword across bright eyes' abdomen as he passed by and emerged behind the swordsman.
"Stomach hit, point to Black!" The score-keeper declared as bright eyes grunted and flourished his waster into a high guard. Balthazar assumed his mid guard again and watched the other swordsman carefully while he waited for the next round. The signal was given and bright eyes swept his blade downwards vertically while Balthazar brought his up to meet it. The mage noticed they were close enough when their blades hit so he brought up a foot a kicked bright eyes in the chest, knocking him back but not off of his feet.
"Unarmed contact, no point!" The score-keeper called out as Balthazar moved in with a thrust that the other swordsman was fast enough to parry. Even stunned from the kick, he got his blade into place... for the first swing. Balthazar brought his sword around faster than the other swordsman could correct his form and managed a strong thrust into bright eyes' shoulder, which knocked him off balance and sent him into the sand. "Hit to shoulder, point to Black."
Balthazar took a step back to allow the dark haired swordsman to rise but he could see frustration beginning to mount on his face. He was not enjoying the shut out. Who would have? When both men assumed a guard again, the signal was given to continue. Bright eyes didn't immediately strike first but Balthazar was not eager to make the first move either. He knew that he was ahead but he didn't want to get too confident. The two of them circled each other slowly in the ring and after a few trills the opposing swordsman finally moved in. He came at Balthazar with a quick series of swings that the mage couldn't deflect hard enough that his strength would allow him to send the other man off balance. It wasn't the speed the cost him the round as much as it was how well the other man feigned his attacks. The sword looked like it was coming in from one angle and ended up in another before the moment of contact came. Balthazar was good, but he was not expecting the change and ended up retreating out of the circle without knowing it.
"Out of bounds, no point!" The score-keeper called out before gesturing for both men to get back to the center of the ring in the sand. They resumed their positions and when the fight renewed, Balthazar did not wait on the defensive like he had the time before. He lunged in with his waster and the man with dark hair and bright eyes parried his strike quickly. The strike to his wooden sword sent the blade slightly off to the right but Balthazar's grip was firm enough that he quickly regained control of the sword and shifted it inward in time to block the incoming swing from bright eyes.
Wood struck wood and bounced off, exposing bright eyes abdomen for a trill which Balthazar took advantage off. He drove his waster forward with enough force that when bright eyes tried to defend, he wasn't able to knock Balthazar's training blade out of its path. The tip of the sword hit bright eyes in the chest and the fighter fell backwards again, clutching where the sword had hit him for a moment. It seemed that the wind had been knocked out of him.
"Chest hit, point to Black, winner!" The score-keeper declared as Balthazar loosened up his posture and offered a hand to the downed man with bright eyes.
"You're quick." He said to try and lessen the blow of defeat.
"Not quick enough." The man said bitterly as he rose on his own. It wasn't hard to tell he was disappointed to be eliminated early on but words were not likely to make it any better- at least not from Balthazar. The man with bright eyes disappeared into the crowd in the bits that followed and Balthazar was prepared for his next match while a few others took place. The contest lasted until dark and in the end, Balthazar won the sword portion. No fight was as challenging as the first and fatigue didn't set in for the mage in the way that it set in for the other fighters. He was more fit than most and more durable from arcs of fighting. Even in victory, he found his mind trailing back to the first fighter of the trial. He had shown the most skill out of all of the fights that trial and his face was not seen again. A strange, mysterious man. Perhaps their paths would cross again.
Perhaps not.
All that was certain was Balthazar needed to get back to work and claim his prizes for winning the trial.
