Pugna: An Eragon Fanfic

11

Duck, dodge, weave, slash... These are the only thoughts in my mind as I fight Eragon. He's much faster then Maela, the elf I sparred in Ellesmera.

Duck, slash, dodge...

Weave, dodge, slash...

Eragon strikes at my head, I dodge, duck, slash at his now vulnerable arm.

The blow glances off his elbow as he twists away. I can tell that it caused him considerable pain though.

Duck, jump, roll...

After about twenty minutes of this, I pretend to tire, to try to fake him out. He believes my ruse, so he strikes even more ferociously. Easily blocking his blows,  I try to figure out a way to beat Eragon.

Duck, slash, retreat...

Finally, I decide to use the trick I used against Maela; let my arm drift away from my body, then, when the other person attacks, dodge and attack their vulnerable neck. He'll know that trick though, I think to myself. I'll tweak my approach then.... After parrying a blow, I begin to put my plan into action.

|•|•|•|

As I slash at Sabrina, I can see that she's tiring by the way she lifts her feet; very heavily.

I increase my own attacks so as to tire her out. As I think of ways to slip past her defenses, I realize that this girl is somewhat like Arya. Lazily parrying her blows, I notice more her black hair, almost black eyes, pale skin, and black attire fit more for a man than a woman. Therefore, I think to myself, she might think like Arya as well... Trying to see what I'm looking at, like Glaedr taught me so many years ago, I look at this strange girl.

She's from another land, I think. So she may have a different fighting style that is constantly changing, but if she does, she has yet to show it...

She seems to be tiring, maybe I can defeat her with pure strength...

I doubt it, says Saphira in my head.

What? I exclaim. You doubt my strength?

Of course not. But this girl has greater stamina. She is playing you Eragon, like a badly tuned harp.

But look, she's tiring! I protest.

No she isn't. She can go on for hours more.

And how do you know this? I say angrily, blocking a particularly ferocious blow.

Just look Eragon, look past your anger and see that her footfalls are a little too precise to just be from lack of energy. The hatchling is planning something.

Mmmph I grunt, not wanting to admit that I'm wrong.

Suddenly, Sabrina strikes at my head with a heavy blow. Jolted out of my reverie, I spin out of the way and slash at her midriff.

Surprisingly, the blow lands. Sabrina looks hurt. She falls to her knees, giving a little moan. Her dragon whines but stays put. I rush over to her. No sooner had Saphira shouted Eragon! It's a trap! had I realized it myself as the girl springs up and performs a complicated series of blows at lightning speed.

|•|•|•|

Ha!

This is what I think as Eragon slashes at my stomach. Turning away a little so the blow doesn't hurt as much, I pretend to be severely hurt. Falling to my knees, I groan theatrically.

Now! I tell Pugna.

Pugna whines loudly when I hit the ground.

Show off, I say to her, inwardly laughing.

Eragon, of course, rushes over and, since he can't see my face, I smile evilly. When he gets to be about a foot away, I spring on him, slashing and stabbing with skillful speed. Surprised, he backpedals and halfheartedly parries my ferocious blows.

Before he can regain his footing, I extract some energy from Pugna and complete a complicated set of flurrying stabs that the eye can't follow, finally ending with me twisting my sword around and disarming him. Stunned, Eragon doesn't roll out of the way as I stab my dulled sword into his chest.

"Dead," I say to him.