This is just a short little battle between Valaura and Cervantes. Cervantes, if some of you even remember, was originally going to be Luke's Gallade, but he got replaced with Zephry ♥ Don't ask me why, I don't know. Anyway, this battle is just a shameless demonstration of Val's power.
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The field was a large expansive of ankle to knee-height grass in the middle of a sea of trees. The light green grass stood absolutely still in the absence of wind, healthy and lively. A few large, stone-white boulders littered the field, as well as larger slabs of rock that reached above the trees.
“We may be asked to restore the field after this,” Valaura noted as she took a place opposite of Cervantes, several yards lay between him and her.
“If the battle indeed becomes that intense,” the Gallade countered, taking a stance.
Tara and Lucius sat on a tall rock near the tree line, safely distanced away from the battle, but still high enough so that they would be able to see. A strained silence fell on the area, any animals in the forest silenced themselves, and anything in the field quickly took cover in the trees.
Valaura stood simply, no stance, as if willingly opening herself to an attack. “Ready to begin?” she asked.
Cervantes nodded, giving Valaura her cue. Inhaling, the Gardevoir closed her eyes and twisted to the side, raising her right arm, palm stretched towards the sky. A change was immediately noticeable, as a burst of wind blew through the area. Rumbling started from far away and drew nearer and nearer with every second, sky darkening. Clouds black as night came in from all directions, swirling together at the point directly above her, blocking the sun. A low and deep roll of thunder rumbled across the clouds as a flash of lightning momentarily lit up the sky.
This process took not even a single minute.
Valaura lowered her arm, her flowing body billowed as another stream of wind flowed past her.
“Very dramatic,” Cervantes observed, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“It is not entirely for show,” Valaura explained, raising both her arms this time, fingers grasping and pulling at the clouds as if they were merely hovering only inches above her.
A deafening clap of thunder sounded, and blue-white flashes of lightning rained down upon the field, all of them arcing, jittering, and zigzagging towards Cervantes.
The warrior back-flipped deftly from the point at which all the bolts met, holding a bladed arm up to his eyes against the brilliant flash formed by the union of electricity. Not given a moment’s rest, another onslaught of Thunder attacks sliced towards him. Valaura held her pose, arms raised and palms facing the earth, calling down bolt after bolt.
Cervantes flipped vertically from another bolt and forcefully punched the ground with his fist. The ground beneath him cracked and a large, flat slab of rock flew up in-front of him, blocking the next bolt. The rock continued to grow, bending over the Gallade’s head to protect him from any more lightning. The move had been a creatively used Stone Edge.
Valaura lowered her arms casually, seeing her opponent’s makeshift shield far away from her near the trees. She could manipulate the path of lightning around the rock, of course, with her psychic power, but better to keep her opponent surprised. Closing her eyes she bent her right arm up, palm flexed. A spark of red-orange light came to life, growing rapidly in size as the moments passed. A ring of the same color bloomed out from the sphere, orbiting around the energy, making it look like a ringed planet. Another ring appeared as the orb grew to the size of small car.
Valaura stretched her limb out towards Gallade’s location, eyes glowing crimson, steam-like energy of the same color drifted from the corners of her eyes. She inhaled, and as if the attack were a part of her, expanded, deflating a bit as she exhaled.
She fired.
The Focus Blast tore a path of ruin as it shot across the distance, throwing up innumerable chunks of dirt and rock and blades of grass. It pulsed and flashed, rings orbiting still. The slab of stone stood no chance and exploded in a brilliant burst of red from the impact, unleashing another ear-bursting crack as debris flew across the expanse of grass.
Cervantes was nowhere to be seen.
Valaura observed the crater for not even second before being entirely sure that he was absent. Her eyes widened for a moment when she sensed him directly behind her, ready to attack her with a blade bathed in a black aura.
The Gardevoir Teleported away from the lethal Night Slash, directly behind Cervantes, hand aglow with the blue flame it held. Cervantes Teleported again as well.
This continued on for what seemed like an agonizingly long time. Both opponents teleported around each other; always missing the other by a mere moment. It looked like a complicated dance, the way the rhythm fell.
“I’ve never seen him fight so hard…” Lucius said after a while, awestruck.
“Same here actually,” Tara nodded, her eyes wide as she tried to capture every single detail. “Valaura doesn’t fight often,”
Finally the psychics stopped just feet apart from the other. Cervantes swung towards her with a kick. Valaura spun, elegantly bringing her own leg in a kick against his. Psychic energy fluctuated between the impact and bubbled out, throwing both fighters flying through the air.
The Gallade’s back met with the earth as he flew, throwing him into a tumble. Virtually the same happened to Valaura. Cervantes stood as soon as he found himself able, which was after a moment of lying shocked on the ground. The Gardevoir pulled herself up from her crumpled state in the grass; limbs limp and head lolling as if she was a ragdoll being pulled upright from her torso by some un-seen force. She righted herself, not touching the ground again but hovering centimeters above it.
Cervantes took the initiative, running to a full sprint before flying up into the air, spinning forward and bringing his leg back down hard on the ground; a pulse of energy radiated from where his leg hit. The pulse was followed by an immediate snapping of the earth as a large and erratic crack parted the field, racing towards Valaura as the area shook violently.
Her eyes flared to life again and threw her arms up. More snapping was heard as a large chunk of earth separated itself from the rest of the land and sprung up meters above the rest of the field, creating a small cliff; at the top of which she stood triumphantly, which she had right to, having just molded the earth with the sheer power of her psychic ability.
The crack met the raised land full force, Valaura stepped a bit to the side as her cliff was sliced down the center. Clouds of dust burst from the injury upon the rock as the Earthquake ended.
The black psychic aimed her open palm at half of the cliff opposite her and made and under-hand swooping motion towards her enemy. Small shards of stone fell from the large slab as it rose into the air, surrounded by a faint red aura. She herself was flaring with the same aura, only the red more intense and crimson. With her free hand she slowly raised it palm-up, fingers snapping closed into a fist. The grass of the field shuddered as it relented its will to hers.
Cervantes found himself leaping out of the way constantly to avoid the long grass that sprang up at him in order to ensnare him. The blades of vegetation grew at accelerated rates. Valaura’s free hand moved rhythmically, as if orchestrating the field as she manipulated the plants.
In no time at all the grass as above shoulder height and the Gallade found that his only escapes were the large stones. The grass writhed as he stood atop the tallest monolith. Narrowing her eyes, Valaura ceased her Grass Knot attack, allowing the grass to shrink back to its original height. Forcefully she threw the rock she still held at Gallade.
The earth shuddered in response to the impact of the stone against the standing pillar. Small rocks showered the field in result, but Cervantes, who had avoided the clash, took advantage and forcibly kicked and punched the chunks of earth towards Valaura.
Throwing her arms down, the cliff she was on fell back into the ground. Spinning to the side, aura trailing behind her, she threw up a psychic shield against the barrage. The curved wall rippled with each impact but stood firm as the boulders crumpled against her defenses.
As soon as he landed back on the ground Cervantes rushed forward with a great burst of speed, one bladed arm glowing in his own green aura of psychic power. Valaura focused her shield into a much smaller form in front of her as Cervantes’ met her Psychic with a Psycho Cut.
The two stood, attacks pushing against the other but neither moving from where they stood. Valaura’s flare burned only brighter, accompanied by Cervantes’ own shining green aura. They pushed so fiercely against the other that strands of their auras themselves seemed to be fighting, the colors intertwining with each other and mixing.
Brighter and brighter the psychics shone as they fought, until finally each of them flew back from the other; their auras mixed completely and exploded upwards into a beacon that broke the clouds, sending waves of energy outwards from the base.
Tara leaned away, shielding her eyes from the flash. Opening her eyes, she noticed that other people were present and had done the same. With such a large and powerful battle brewing, there was no doubt it would attract attention in spite of their secluded location.
“I think it’s a tie,” Lucius conceded.
“Mm, she wouldn’t settle for that,” Tara shook her head. “But they kinda have to stop unless they want to attract even more attention and burn down the forest.”
Valaura arose from a cloud of dust, elegant as ever despite the apparent injury that the attack had caused. She sensed Tara’s thoughts, taking only minor note of the other people around.
“This should stop now,” she advised Cervantes.
“I agree, it will be a draw,” he answered, himself having appeared at the other side of the field. He seemed in no worse condition than Valaura.
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The field was a large expansive of ankle to knee-height grass in the middle of a sea of trees. The light green grass stood absolutely still in the absence of wind, healthy and lively. A few large, stone-white boulders littered the field, as well as larger slabs of rock that reached above the trees.
“We may be asked to restore the field after this,” Valaura noted as she took a place opposite of Cervantes, several yards lay between him and her.
“If the battle indeed becomes that intense,” the Gallade countered, taking a stance.
Tara and Lucius sat on a tall rock near the tree line, safely distanced away from the battle, but still high enough so that they would be able to see. A strained silence fell on the area, any animals in the forest silenced themselves, and anything in the field quickly took cover in the trees.
Valaura stood simply, no stance, as if willingly opening herself to an attack. “Ready to begin?” she asked.
Cervantes nodded, giving Valaura her cue. Inhaling, the Gardevoir closed her eyes and twisted to the side, raising her right arm, palm stretched towards the sky. A change was immediately noticeable, as a burst of wind blew through the area. Rumbling started from far away and drew nearer and nearer with every second, sky darkening. Clouds black as night came in from all directions, swirling together at the point directly above her, blocking the sun. A low and deep roll of thunder rumbled across the clouds as a flash of lightning momentarily lit up the sky.
This process took not even a single minute.
Valaura lowered her arm, her flowing body billowed as another stream of wind flowed past her.
“Very dramatic,” Cervantes observed, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“It is not entirely for show,” Valaura explained, raising both her arms this time, fingers grasping and pulling at the clouds as if they were merely hovering only inches above her.
A deafening clap of thunder sounded, and blue-white flashes of lightning rained down upon the field, all of them arcing, jittering, and zigzagging towards Cervantes.
The warrior back-flipped deftly from the point at which all the bolts met, holding a bladed arm up to his eyes against the brilliant flash formed by the union of electricity. Not given a moment’s rest, another onslaught of Thunder attacks sliced towards him. Valaura held her pose, arms raised and palms facing the earth, calling down bolt after bolt.
Cervantes flipped vertically from another bolt and forcefully punched the ground with his fist. The ground beneath him cracked and a large, flat slab of rock flew up in-front of him, blocking the next bolt. The rock continued to grow, bending over the Gallade’s head to protect him from any more lightning. The move had been a creatively used Stone Edge.
Valaura lowered her arms casually, seeing her opponent’s makeshift shield far away from her near the trees. She could manipulate the path of lightning around the rock, of course, with her psychic power, but better to keep her opponent surprised. Closing her eyes she bent her right arm up, palm flexed. A spark of red-orange light came to life, growing rapidly in size as the moments passed. A ring of the same color bloomed out from the sphere, orbiting around the energy, making it look like a ringed planet. Another ring appeared as the orb grew to the size of small car.
Valaura stretched her limb out towards Gallade’s location, eyes glowing crimson, steam-like energy of the same color drifted from the corners of her eyes. She inhaled, and as if the attack were a part of her, expanded, deflating a bit as she exhaled.
She fired.
The Focus Blast tore a path of ruin as it shot across the distance, throwing up innumerable chunks of dirt and rock and blades of grass. It pulsed and flashed, rings orbiting still. The slab of stone stood no chance and exploded in a brilliant burst of red from the impact, unleashing another ear-bursting crack as debris flew across the expanse of grass.
Cervantes was nowhere to be seen.
Valaura observed the crater for not even second before being entirely sure that he was absent. Her eyes widened for a moment when she sensed him directly behind her, ready to attack her with a blade bathed in a black aura.
The Gardevoir Teleported away from the lethal Night Slash, directly behind Cervantes, hand aglow with the blue flame it held. Cervantes Teleported again as well.
This continued on for what seemed like an agonizingly long time. Both opponents teleported around each other; always missing the other by a mere moment. It looked like a complicated dance, the way the rhythm fell.
“I’ve never seen him fight so hard…” Lucius said after a while, awestruck.
“Same here actually,” Tara nodded, her eyes wide as she tried to capture every single detail. “Valaura doesn’t fight often,”
Finally the psychics stopped just feet apart from the other. Cervantes swung towards her with a kick. Valaura spun, elegantly bringing her own leg in a kick against his. Psychic energy fluctuated between the impact and bubbled out, throwing both fighters flying through the air.
The Gallade’s back met with the earth as he flew, throwing him into a tumble. Virtually the same happened to Valaura. Cervantes stood as soon as he found himself able, which was after a moment of lying shocked on the ground. The Gardevoir pulled herself up from her crumpled state in the grass; limbs limp and head lolling as if she was a ragdoll being pulled upright from her torso by some un-seen force. She righted herself, not touching the ground again but hovering centimeters above it.
Cervantes took the initiative, running to a full sprint before flying up into the air, spinning forward and bringing his leg back down hard on the ground; a pulse of energy radiated from where his leg hit. The pulse was followed by an immediate snapping of the earth as a large and erratic crack parted the field, racing towards Valaura as the area shook violently.
Her eyes flared to life again and threw her arms up. More snapping was heard as a large chunk of earth separated itself from the rest of the land and sprung up meters above the rest of the field, creating a small cliff; at the top of which she stood triumphantly, which she had right to, having just molded the earth with the sheer power of her psychic ability.
The crack met the raised land full force, Valaura stepped a bit to the side as her cliff was sliced down the center. Clouds of dust burst from the injury upon the rock as the Earthquake ended.
The black psychic aimed her open palm at half of the cliff opposite her and made and under-hand swooping motion towards her enemy. Small shards of stone fell from the large slab as it rose into the air, surrounded by a faint red aura. She herself was flaring with the same aura, only the red more intense and crimson. With her free hand she slowly raised it palm-up, fingers snapping closed into a fist. The grass of the field shuddered as it relented its will to hers.
Cervantes found himself leaping out of the way constantly to avoid the long grass that sprang up at him in order to ensnare him. The blades of vegetation grew at accelerated rates. Valaura’s free hand moved rhythmically, as if orchestrating the field as she manipulated the plants.
In no time at all the grass as above shoulder height and the Gallade found that his only escapes were the large stones. The grass writhed as he stood atop the tallest monolith. Narrowing her eyes, Valaura ceased her Grass Knot attack, allowing the grass to shrink back to its original height. Forcefully she threw the rock she still held at Gallade.
The earth shuddered in response to the impact of the stone against the standing pillar. Small rocks showered the field in result, but Cervantes, who had avoided the clash, took advantage and forcibly kicked and punched the chunks of earth towards Valaura.
Throwing her arms down, the cliff she was on fell back into the ground. Spinning to the side, aura trailing behind her, she threw up a psychic shield against the barrage. The curved wall rippled with each impact but stood firm as the boulders crumpled against her defenses.
As soon as he landed back on the ground Cervantes rushed forward with a great burst of speed, one bladed arm glowing in his own green aura of psychic power. Valaura focused her shield into a much smaller form in front of her as Cervantes’ met her Psychic with a Psycho Cut.
The two stood, attacks pushing against the other but neither moving from where they stood. Valaura’s flare burned only brighter, accompanied by Cervantes’ own shining green aura. They pushed so fiercely against the other that strands of their auras themselves seemed to be fighting, the colors intertwining with each other and mixing.
Brighter and brighter the psychics shone as they fought, until finally each of them flew back from the other; their auras mixed completely and exploded upwards into a beacon that broke the clouds, sending waves of energy outwards from the base.
Tara leaned away, shielding her eyes from the flash. Opening her eyes, she noticed that other people were present and had done the same. With such a large and powerful battle brewing, there was no doubt it would attract attention in spite of their secluded location.
“I think it’s a tie,” Lucius conceded.
“Mm, she wouldn’t settle for that,” Tara shook her head. “But they kinda have to stop unless they want to attract even more attention and burn down the forest.”
Valaura arose from a cloud of dust, elegant as ever despite the apparent injury that the attack had caused. She sensed Tara’s thoughts, taking only minor note of the other people around.
“This should stop now,” she advised Cervantes.
“I agree, it will be a draw,” he answered, himself having appeared at the other side of the field. He seemed in no worse condition than Valaura.
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