The sun was high in the sky, glittering down upon the lake and casting shadows under the trees. The air was warm, and a gentle breeze blew to keep it from moving beyond warm and into hot. The water of the lake was chilly, but its crystalline water were clear and fish could be seen swimming about below.

Keaira had been working hard with Aaris, but she was not yet ready to try out for Phedre’s Elite, and so she was alone for a time while her mentor was put through trials to work under one of the most feared people on all of Ea. She had come to the lake to practice her skills, but she had a lot left to learn and was still too easily distracted. She still did not fully understand herself, and she still craved the sight of blood and of beings in pain. Though she had learned a little about fightin, she had found that her talents in the magical arts were not so well developed, nor did she enjoy trying to learn the use of magic. She wanted to be hands on, to hold a creature’s life in her own hands and use her blades to make it bleed. Her mentor may have been a magic user, but Keaira wanted to learn how to fight, how to beat someone down with her bare hands, how to cut a person before they even saw the movement of her blades.

It was all of this that Keaira had come to the lake to work on, and for a while she did. She used her longsword, sliced it through the air, but she could not get the speed that she wanted. She worked with both hands, one at a time, but neither had the strength or speed yet that she craved. It was frustrating, and having no one to work with only made things worse. There was no one to explain what she was doing wrong, and no one to attack. She did not want to practice on her own, she wanted to see blood, but not her own blood.

It was then that she heard the noise of something moving through the trees. She stood still, not wanting to frighten the creature away, but this was not out of kindness. She had an evil intent in wanting the creature to move closer, for then she would have something live to cut at, something live to make bleed. Out of the trees walked a small deer, it did not seem to fear her, had probably seen enough people by the lake that it thought nothing of one more. The deer moved out of the woods towards the lake, grazing on the crisp green grass as it walked, never knowing the fate that was in store for it.

Keaira watched the deer, her eyes glinting at the thought of torturing the creature. When the deer dropped its head to the lake water to take a drink she moved swiftly forward, and her sword came down upon the back left ankle of the deer. She did not want to kill it, at least not yet, but with the wound she had inflicted it would not be able to get away. Keaira lifted her blade to her eyes, watching as the blood dripped from its sharp edge, and a malicious grin came to her lips. She was holding the sword in her right hand, and so, with her left hand she reached out to take a small amount of the blood on her fingers, bringing it to her mouth for a small taste. Rich and metallic, just the way I like it, she thought to herself before looking back at the deer with wickedness in her eyes.

The deer had dropped down to the ground, unable to run or support itself without the use of its back leg. It’s doe eyes looked up at her, pleading to be saved, pleading for her to not hurt it again, but Keaira was unaffected by the look. She was lost in her lust for blood, not even the taste of it as much as the sight of it. Lost in her lust for giving pain, for showing others that they were weak. She ran the tip of her sword along the deer’s side, just deep enough for drops of blood to form. The mewling whimper escaped from the deer’s mouth, and this only caused Keaira to get more joy out of the pain she was causing.

"You know, most people use a bow - not a sword."

The dry, semi-sarcastic remark came from a man watching the entire scene nearby. The man was neither short nor tall, really, and though he wore a wizard's robes he was not a man most would have noticed. Yet his fire-red hair stood out on his head and his green eyes sparkled in the bright sunlight that filtered down through the leaves of the giant oak against which the man was now leaning. It was obvious the man was a wizard even without being able to sense the subtleties of the magical energies flowing through him, yet he was just as clearly not a man to be considered weak despite his only being an Apprentice. Apprentice though he might have been, he was both powerful and dangerous.

On the other hand, he was also sadistic. Such was the manner of Barras Rike, Apprentice to the great wizard Hollander Tannes. The man had the capability to become an Archmage, but the Archmages felt he was far too dangerous, far too rash to attain such a title. Regardless, his knowledge of magic and of the various planes of existence often-times called the forgotten realms was impressive at the very least. Indeed, even the Archmages considered him formiddable. Thus, he was an excellent teacher for one such as Barras, who was often just as rash as him.

Barras watched with no real interest as the poor creature before him was sliced and diced by the swordswoman. A breeze picked up slightly, blowing Barras' robes and the hairs of the deer's soon-to-be-corpse this way and that. Barras' hair was messed up a bit, which was regrettable but not unfixable, and he merely flattened it again for the time being.

When Keaira heard the man speak behind her she jumped slightly, it seemed she might have a real person to practice upon. She still wished to test the deer more, see how much pain it could take, not that it could tell her in words when to stop, but a human competitor would be so much better. A human could tell her how much it hurt, could tell her where the pain was strongest. A human would break down and scream for death when the pain was to much. When that human screamed for death, she would merely walk away, let the bleeding continue slowly until they had bled to death. Yes, a human would be much more interesting to torture, and would put up a much better fight as well.

Turning away from the deer that lay mewling weakly on the grass, her eyes caught on a man leaning against a tree. He had the look of a mage, as if he wanted everyone to know exactly what he was and where his skills lie. Well, she may not have been powerful, and may yet have had a lot to learn about fighting, but she would learn it all a lot faster going against him then attacking a tree.

Keaira brought her sword up to her lips and licked away a small amount of the blood. Licking her own lips to clear them of the blood that had caught there when she licked the blade, her grin widened more then it had at watching the deer. To his words she said, “What fun is there in a bow? One quick shot and the creature is dead.” She paused and a deep, evil chuckle escaped her lips, “It is so much more dun to use a blade. Bring the pain slowly upon the creature, feel its life in your own hands, be on top of the kill rather then sitting at a distance.”

She spun her sword slightly and the blood that had still been attached flung off. Some of it flung to the ground, some in the man’s direction, and some flung on to Keaira herself. A streak of blood ran down her face, leaving a line of fierce red behind, and when it reached her chin, Keaira’s small tongue darted out to catch the blood before it could drip down to the ground. She looked quite insane in that moment, but she didn’t care. She did not care what this man though of her, for why should she? She didn’t know him, and he had done nothing to give her reason to want to.

She watched him as he fixed her hair, and this only caused her to chuckle more. A man who worried about his looks so much that he would need to fix his windblown hair was not the kind of man she was likely to fear, for why fear a pretty boy? Those who allowed the blood to flow down their bodies, the sweat to form, and their hair to become a mess for the fight, those were the kind of men she would ever fear, those were the kind of men, the kind of people, whom she could see herself following.

Keaira took a step forward, her sword held up before her with the point aimed at the man, but then she stopped. Maybe she could get more out of this then just learning more about what the body could handle pain wise. Maybe first she could learn from him, and when he was no longer of any use to her, then she could test his aptitude for dealing with pain. That thought in mind, she lowered her sword and said, “I came here to practice, but found a tree was not a worthy adversary. You wouldn’t wish to work with me for a while, would you?”

"Considering what you did to the deer? No, thank you," he responded dryly.

Barras was not a stupid man. He knew when he was about to be attacked, whether he wanted to be or not, and he knew how to handle himself a fight. He also knew what a murderous psychotic looked like. Clearly, one was standing before him now. He looked her up and down. She was quite attractive without the wings, and that brought a smirk to her face - but he wasn't about to try to woo her. He had an interest in women, certainly, but wing-bearing women wielding swords against him didn't particularly strike him as his 'type'.

Fortunately, he didn't have to make that choice. Apparently, the woman had wandered into a rather large and angry grizzly's territory. It had three cubs with it, too - and, seeing the flash of light reflecting off of the woman's sword, roared loudly and rose up on her hind legs. A slow, sadistic smile crept onto Barras' face as he saw the fury of the bear. He prudently stepped out of the bear's line of sight, into the tree cover, and looked back to the woman smugly.

"I think you made it mad," he said mockingly, his smile turning into a wicked grin.

Keaira was not in the least shocked by the mage’s rejoinder. He was a man who cared for his looks, of course he would not wish to risk a fight in which he might receive some small scar. That might mar him, might make him less wonderful in women’s eyes, though she doubted that any woman could be wooed by his façade. He is just like that little twit, Jane, from the shrine, the hell in which I used to live. I can’t believe I once called her my friend, the weak, childish brat. Both of them, this mage and Jane, both scared to fight, and yet oh so cocky as if they could win any fight they joined. If they could win a fight they would not be scared to get in one. Hell, he is even about the same height as Jane, and his hair color is almost an exact match, maybe they are siblings, though Jane claimed to have none. Keaira was glad to be free of Jane, the idiot girl most likely still considered her a friend, and she would be delighted when she was rid of this man as well, rid of him by slicing his body and watching as his blood leaked to the ground.

The smirk on Keaira’s face lingered, she would still hurt him if given the chance. She noticed him looking her over and nearly laughed. The man was certainly ridiculous and flaying him would bring her the greatest of joys. She still moved towards him slightly, but not her eyes glinted with only the urge to kill, the slightest interest in a fight being gone. It was then that she heard noise behind her, turning swiftly she saw the bear and its cubs moving in. The cubs ran towards the deer that was still flailing about on the ground, but the mama bear had all eyes on her.

She heard the man commenting on her making the bear angry, and her eyes darted to him. A glare crossed her face at his idiocy, but laughter also seemed to enter her eyes. The man was nothing but a scared little rabbit, hiding from its fears. He would not fight her, and hid behind a tree at the sight of a bear. The next thing she would see would be him burrowing into a hole, waiting for all threat of harm to leave. Bouncing away quickly, the scared little rabbit who would hide for a day, think itself safe, and then be killed the moment it came out of hiding.

It was just more evidence that she had nothing to fear from him. Yellow bellied cowards brought no fear to the fallen angel, they only gave her an intense urge to kill, but first she would have to deal with the bear. She did not want to kill the bear for like her, it was a creature that enjoyed giving hurting others, but she was not going to be the next victim either. Her blade moved in front of her face, the sun glinting off it and reflecting back at the bear.

When the light hit the bears eyes, it reared onto its back legs, but it did not run away from her. Instead, the creature charged and Keaira knew that either she hurt the bear, or it would hurt her. She still wished not to kill it, to let it continue its terror of the forest, but her life was worth more then the bears. So it was then when the bear reached her, Keaira dove to the side and slashed her blade across the bears leg. It was a shallow cut and the bear would still have the ability to walk, but if it attacked her again, the bear might not be so lucky. On the other hand, another attack could also leave her as the unlucky one.

((Accidentally posted with the wrong charry...this should be Keaira))

((That's fine. I posted on the wrong account just a few days ago myself. :lol: You're only a goddess - er, I mean, uh...human. XD ))

The bear's roar was one which shook even Barras out of his reverie. He was remembering a particularly humorous instance in which he'd taken out a horde of goblins. Even as the fools screamed and died, they tried to get to him. But his spells were too dangerous and kept them at bay for some time. He'd ended up laughing all the next week over the sights and sounds of those pathetic beings desperately clawing their way toward him, trying to strike at him with a slash or a wild stab just to kill the 'puny human'. Yet that puny human had been twice their height and more powerful than their bugbear frontlinesmen and their hobgoblin necromancers. Indeed, they were nothing to him. It was almost ridiculous - in fact, it was ridiculous - and he found himself laughing aloud at the thought once more. But then the bear's roar came.

He climbed the tree he was hiding behind in order to both get away from the bear in case it should come too close for comfort and to get a better vantage point. He watched the bear charge and grinned wickedly as the girl fought it. Her blade cut through the leg like a hot knife through warm butter, sending blood flying but not really hurting the animal. Indeed, the animal roared in pain and rage and whirled about quickly, blood swiftly clotting and matting its sienna-colored fur and slicking the claws of its hind feet. As it whirled about, doing a one-eighty to face the foolish girl that had dared to enter HER territory, it took a hard swipe at the girl with one massive forepaw.

Meanwhile, the deer had stopped screaming as the cubs tore it apart, their claws and teeth ripping into its tender flesh to get to the hot-blooded and juicy meat below the surface of its formerly attractive hide. Indeed, there was not much left of the deer as the cubs finished their meal with great zest, zealously feasting upon the wondrous banquet that had been so carelessly lain at their feet. There were many growls and cub-roars as they ate, each fighting the other to try to get his or her share of the buffet.

Barras watched it all, laughing again - this time at the scene before him - and hurled a spell of blindness at the girl. He was curious how she would handle an angry mother bear without her eyes...