Leistungling [ Solo Spec ]

Aquila Lukios. A soldier. In Yoshiro's army. Impossible. Never. A joke. Never would happen and never could happen. Not in a million years. But Aquila often proves others severely wrong. It is sort of a game of hers. What they all declared was impossible often becomes a strange reality. That did not necessarily translate into something good, of course. The officers placed over Aquila strongly and vehemently agree the silver-haired woman spelled trouble. Sometimes they wondered if she was even worth the hassle she served them on a silver platter. That being a question no one wants to answer due to the dilemma it presents, the dilemma clearly present as she sparred casually with a fellow soldier on that particular day.

verbum comitem [ cxxi // d ]
word count [ 121 // 500 ]

"I've a question."

Aquila speedily moved to the side. She stuck her dagger out to clash against the sharp, rapier sword being slashed in a downward motion. She moved her dagger and her opponent's sword to the other side of her and performed a side-kick. It turned out to be too slow because the soldier nimbly moved back, avoiding Aquila's kick.

"What?" she irritably snapped.

He thrust his rapier at Aquila, which she deflected with a circular motion of her dagger. He deftly snuck in a powerful front kick to her abdomen. She leaped back.

"Why a dagger?"

He continued pushing with a horizontal slash. She moved her dagger across her body to meet with his sword.

"Why not?"

verbum comitem [ cccl // d ]
word count [ 240 // 500 ]

A dagger and rapier met in the air. The dagger sped down first and jabbed mercilessly into thick fabric. It dragged down like a cat clawing a scratching post.

"You're not bad."

The soldier stepped back, thankful for the tiny bit of restraint Aquila surprisingly possessed. He guarded himself with his rapier.

"Obviously."

She thrust her dagger forward, targeting his right side. He moved his rapier to block her attack, only to find himself bombarded by a hard roundhouse at his side. He staggered back.

"You're not that good, though."

She rolled her eyes.

"Look who's talking."

He suddenly bowed slightly, signaling the end of their sparring match.

"We're both not that good, then. Care to prove me wrong?"

Aquila laughed haughtily. "Tomorrow as usual."

verbum comitem [ ccclxiv // d ]
word count [ 364 // 500 ]

There was never a tomorrow. Least not for that soldier whose name Aquila never learned. He never knew hers either. But they were proof names did not make up a person. Despite not knowing each other's name, they had a connection of sort. Perhaps it was friendship. Aquila didn't know what it really was. There wasn't much to it. There was something deep about it, but not really. It was really quite simple.

It was strange, really. No one ever actually told her he was dead. But somehow she knew. It was a feeling of sorts except it wasn't really a feeling. It was just something she knew. It was truly unexplainable. Perhaps it was for the better. She accepted it quietly and with a casual smile. She moved on and forgot the next week.

She didn't stop practicing, however. She had a motivation that drove deeper than someone holding her to it. The soldier had created motivation that would last as long as she lived. Perhaps it would survive even death.

verbum comitem [ dcccvi // d ]
word count [ 536 // 500 ]