The crows watched in silence from the branches. The scene in the graveyard below was more active than it had been for several days. Flashes of light sparked as blessed steel struck against twisted iron. Vas stood heaving like a cornered animal. His normally elegant appearance disheveled from the skirmish. Dark blood ran from grazed wounds where the knight’s blade had managed to touch him. The young knight too drew in an exhausted breath but stood ready to finish off the demon in front of him. His sword reflected the morning light, casting reflections out into secluded shadows. Vas gripped a wrought iron fence picket, its decorative finial spike held out like a wicked spearhead. He had only managed to pry it loose in time to deflect the first pass of the shining broadsword as it swung to part his head from his shoulders. He had blocked blow after blow for nearly an hour, an unrelenting struggle against his attacker.
Vas bared his teeth as he backed away from the young man. “You put up more effort than the last swordsman.”
The armor shifted as the knight tightened his hold on the hilt of the blade. He placed each foot firmly, keeping his stance ready for Vas to lunge at any moment. The knight was persisting after wounded prey no different than a skilled huntsman. He matched Vas’ movements, taking up a proper pose that would deflect the makeshift spear.
Vas sneered. “I’ll make sure they put that stubborn look on the face of your memorial statue.”
The knight paused slightly, Vas could see the thought enter his mind. His brow deepened as he glared at Vas. “I won’t be defeated by the likes of you, beast.”
Vas gave a snort in response, his spear lowering slightly which nearly caused the knight to re-engage. Vas quickly realigned the sharp point to dissuade him. “Say what you want. I can last until Mommy calls you home for supper.” The knight pressed closer, Vas having not denied being unable to defeat the young man. The points touched, sparks of energy popping as the holy and unholy creations made contact. The sword pushed out, knocking the spear aside as the knight brought around the blade in a continual circle to strike at Vas. Vas blocked with the back end of his weighted iron haft. He leapt backward and away from the sharp arc of death as the sword cleaved across the space where he had just stood. He dismissed a look of fear, but too late to have been unnoticed by his opponent. Taking no time to pause the sword struck again, Vas continued to step back, losing ground under the reigning attacks. The young man was in a frenzy, striking with hastened tempo at the weakened resistance of the demonic grave keeper. His eyes burned with a focused fury that sought to rid the world of the menace that was Vas-Tanoul.
Then he stumbled on a rock which stuck ever so slightly from the graveyards lawn. It did not fully trip him, and he caught his balance without falling, but his momentum had faltered. His position was wrong for his next strike. To make it worse, Vas had been ready to take the offense. With flawless anticipation, the spear had lashed out in time with the knights missed step. The sword now pulled up to parry and deflect wild and brutal strikes from the heavy iron pole. The twisted snare was bent and warped from the lengthy fight, but its ragged edges tore at the man’s face and threatened his eyes. He was suddenly overwhelmed at the fast turn of events and relented to take steps of retreat. The door swung shut faster than he could have known. The demon sealed it again. The man pounded at the door, screaming that he would end Vas himself as soon as he was free.
Outside Vas straightened his vest. It had only taken him a moment to regather his composure, and fully restore his standard appearance. He leaned close to the door, his voice still playing as if exhausted. “I’ll tell everyone of how you failed your quest! You will never be a hero!” He coughed out a couple “Mwuhaha” touches of laughter for added effect. The knight began to grow silent and pensive within the stone crypt. That was the last thing Vas needed out of this problem, for the youth to use his head, or even worse, his heart. Vas poked the wall of the crypt with his iron pole, at once causing it to crack and falter. He leaned in once more to the door. “You’ll never find a way out of there!” Vas said with an overly dramatic tone. Then he paused and listened.
The soft sounds of busy hands scraping away at the weakened stone were the only response. Vas smiled wide.
“Keep up the good works kiddo.” He said only to himself with a sneer. Then Vas turned away to repair the gap in his fence.