During an after-hours exploration of the Academy grounds, a chance shift of the wind brought the sound of a distant exchange of blades to the ears of Cadet Elise de Bellefeuille. Now, Elise has found herself along a long-neglected path, well hidden amidst the trees and overgrown bushes, just outside of the ruins of an old greenhouse that is being slowly reclaimed by the countryside.

Just inside the greenhouse, two senior cadets can be seen sparring with swords, wearing their cadet uniforms as would be expected, but each having the added adornment of a flower picked from the overgrown garden tucked into the breast pocket.

One of the students is Seline von Shanar, a Malamute Gallee with snow-white fur and long white hair that is tied back in a Gallisian braid, and a tail that curls up, where it pokes out from the back of her coat. She spars with Jiraud do Nell, a black Doberman Gallee with his head-hair cropped so short that it's indistinguishable from his short fur. Their fighting styles are as different as the color of their fur, as Seline's every attack and parry is full of fire and emotion, whereas Jiraud seems content to fall into a defensive posture, his face showing no emotion save for concentration as he deflects a rapid volley of blows, occasionally darting in with a reposte when an opening presents itself.

"How … unexpected," the poodle woman whispers to herself as she watches the two duel. Cautiously, Cadet de Bellefeuille takes a few steps towards the greenhouse so as to get a better look at the two duelists, while trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible.

Seline takes a step back, leaving an obvious opening in her defense … but, curiously, Jiraud doesn't go after the opportunity. Instead, he moves as if to defend … and, sure enough, in an eye-blink, Seline is back on the offensive, barking as she makes a furious series of thrusts and blows with such power as to force the larger dog back several steps as he holds up his guard.

The woman's head tilts to the side curiously as she watches the senior cadets fight. Her curiosity building, she begins to make her way around the structure towards the entrance while keeping her eyes on the two.

It takes a bit of work, especially so as to make sure that none of the overgrown foliage snares at the cadet's uniform … and, it means she misses part of the exchange. By the time she reaches the entrance, where the wall of the greenhouse forms a half-circle rising from the ground, she is just in time to see what looks like a decisive end to the fight: Jiraud leaps up onto a table, and Seline chases after. He hops back down again … but she is quick after him … and in a flash of swords, she has her sharp blade right up against his neck. A feral grin forms on her muzzle, while Jiraud seems to be fairly stoic about the whole situation.

Seline growls, "I have you now, Jiraud. Not so confident now, are you?"

A faint smile forms on Jiraud's muzzle. "You have me at a disadvantage. But you forget. The point is not to take my head, Cadet von Shanar." He glances slightly down.

The poodle cadet takes a step towards the entrance and folds her hands neatly behind her back. She shifts her weight to one leg. "Ahem."

Both Cadets immediately turn to face Elise, Seline quickly pulling her sword away and letting it drop. Jiraud's is already lowered. It is then that Elise can see that Seline's flower appears to have been cleft … and the petals can be seen strewn about the floor at her feet.

The poodle cadet takes a few steps forward so that she need not speak up to be heard, still with her hands folded behind her back. Once she stops, she removes her hands from behind her back and folds her arms across her chest. "I would think senior cadets would know better than to engage in such risky activities. I believe you know quite well the Academy would not be pleased with this," she tells the two, her eyes drifting down to examine the fallen flower as she does so.

Seline reaches for her pocket, plucking out the beheaded flower stem in disgust, then tosses it to the floor. "No … but they don't need to know, now do they?"

"That, I do believe, would depend on what exactly it is you are doing here. Undoubtedly you are hiding this action here for the obvious reason the Academy would likely never permit such risky duels. However, this does not appear a simple duel. So I ask you, just what is the reason for this?" The poodle's ear flicks and she looks up from the severed flower and awaits an answer.

Jiraud just smiles, and holds out his hand to Seline, wiggling his fingers.

His action is rewarded with a scowl. Seline hands over her sword … which has not only a metal blade, but metal fittings as well.

Jiraud says, "We were merely testing our skills, Cadet de Bellefeuille. A simple contest. Nothing to be alarmed about."

Seline simmers quietly.

Jiraud turns the blade over in his hands, clearly admiring it. He murmurs something about the First Ones under his breath, smiling.

Cadet de Bellefeuille shakes her head slightly before lifting her hand and gesturing towards the exchanged blade. "Then why would she be giving you her blade? A simple contest for property, and quite unusual property at that. Do simple contests normally have the losing fight surrender their blade? I do believe you know the answer to that. An interesting contest, indeed."

Seline growls, "I have my own sword, thank you. This one … " She glances to Jiraud. "… is a loaner."

Jiraud smiles. "It's a prize. Just an honest contest between several of the upperclassmen at the Academy. Whomever wins the duel gets this sword. And whomever holds the sword must accept all challenges, so that nobody holds onto it unfairly."

"Interesting, I was quite unaware such exquisite blades were loaned out," Elise tells Seline before turning to address Jiraud. "So this is a common practice? Normally I would find dueling between cadets distasteful. Some would challenge for petty reasons, where as we are here to learn."

Seline spits out, "This is not petty. You have no idea what you're talking about. This is about … " She calms down, at a look from Jiraud. In a much calmer voice, she says, as she collects herself, "It's … a simple matter of honor."

The edge of the poodle's muzzle quirks in a slight frown. "And did I say this particular duel was petty? No. I simply commented that some would duel for petty things. No need to be so … defensive." She shakes her head a little and gestures to the blade again. "Honor. Hmmf. Is this the honor of the fragile ego, or the pride in one's ability and practice?"

"It depends," says Jiraud, smirking. "But more seriously, anyone with a fragile ego won't last in our group long." He casts a sidelong glance to Seline. "We all have our … moments."

With that comment Cadet de Bellefeuille smiles a little. "I see. Indeed, I too have had my encounters with those who… would not think twice about drawing a weapon due to their fragile ego. But anyway, does this duel of yours have some history? Or perhaps the blade might?"

Jiraud says, "Oh, nothing. Just a little tradition of the upperclassmen."

Seline shakes her head as she says, "Oh, come now, Jiraud. We can tell her." She looks askance to Elise. "We can trust her, can't we, with a little story? It might even amuse her."

An eyebrow raises and the poodle turns towards Seline. She unfolds her arms and refolds them, again, neatly behind her back. "I would be interested in hearing this story, yes, but I will tell you, should this somehow go against the Temple, I will not promise anything," she tells the Malamute.

Jiraud laughs. "Against the Temple? Hardly! We are of an elect group, specially entrusted to serve the Temple."

"You may trust me, then," says Elise simply.

Seline walks over to one side, leaning against a vine-covered wall, while Jiraud takes a seat on the table he'd been previously leaping over. "You see … you have heard, of course, that the First Ones will be coming back… "

The poodle glances around for a clear, clean place to sit. Finding the location rather dirty for her tastes, she opts to continue standing and simply shifts her weight to her other leg. She unfolds her arms and places one hand upon her breastplate. "It is said They will return on some future First Ones Day. Yes, I know of this."

Jiraud holds up the sword. "This sword has a great destiny. We of the Watchmen have been chosen to compete against each other. The greatest swordsman amongst us shall hold this sword. The one who holds this sword shall have the honor of meeting the First Ones when they return."

Seline nods solemnly. "So, until they return, we test each other, making sure that the one holding the sword is indeed the best."

The poodle's hand stays upon her breastplate, now from surprised interest rather than praise to the First Ones. "Is that so? To be the one that greets the First Ones when They return. An extremely impressive history." A slight smirk forms at the corner of her mouth. "And, just how were the two of you initiated into this grand competition?"

"We were chosen," says Seline matter-of-factly, "by the Harbinger."

Jiraud nods. "Yes. By the Harbinger. We do not know who he – or she – is, but the Harbinger notified us all in secret."

"The Harbinger? I cannot say I have ever heard of this person, and I certainly have never met them," considers Elise. She drops her hand from her chest-plate and once again folds it neatly behind her. "In secret. I see. Well, you do seem to have an important task here. I will not report any of this, as it seems both futile and in bad taste. Even were this a lie, I might never know, now would I? No need to report what I cannot know."

Jiraud smirks. "Of course not."

Elise returns the smirk. "I can say that I am glad to have come across the two of you. The story was interesting, indeed. I do hope I have not bothered you two."

Seline gives Elise a cold smile. "Well, underclassman de Bellefeuille … perhaps we shall have a chance to spar in practice sometime. Until then … I shall take my leave." She starts to walk away, then casts a sidelong glance to Jiraud. "With your permission, of course."

Jiraud dips his muzzle. "Of course." He rises from his perch on the table.

Elise returns the smile with a polite, if indeed insincere, smile of her own. She then turns to Jiraud and tilts her head to the side again. "And, of course, good luck with your future duels," she tells him.

Jiraud nods to Elise, tucking his prize sword under one arm. He turns about, heading the opposite way through the greenhouse.

The poodle cadet too makes her leave, turning towards the way she came and walking off.