[Art Festival] Nazar I Helyna; a kiss of sword and steel

Friday the 3rd, evening

Everything had been set in place. Nikola had gone over in her head, probably about a thousand times, everything that was necessary for this. The masks for the ending were already onstage, concealed by the dark, smoky fog that would pool around their feet until Artur made it coalesce into the shadow people for the climax. The two were so familiar with their routines at this point that it was simply muscle memory. The old folktale they’d be performing had been one that she’d loved reading as a child, and when she’d learned the original version had been a song, she’d gone out of her way to find it. She had several different recordings of it, and the words were in fact the only bit of Ukranian she understood. But the arrangement she’d chosen for today was purely instrumental. Songs often relied on cadance, rhythm, and rhyme in order to make it work, and with the translation charms in place here, that would have done no one any favors. Though thinking about it now, and knowing that there were other singers here, they must have taken that into account already. Still lyrics would only distract from the performance. at least in her opinion; and the tale was well enough known that she wasn’t worried about people not understanding things.

The original tale started with the master assassin practicing in the woods, and Nikola flicked her wand at the fog from off stage, so it began to form into the vague, hinted shapes of trees as the music began to play, the lights coming up softly to reveal Artur, or rather the master assassin already deep into his moves, blades moving with a skilled and practiced slice through the air. The German designer turned sword dancer for an evening froze momentarily, breath stopping as she was caught up for a moment in watching him move, fluid and graceful in time with the music. He was… powerful. Masculine. And she swallowed a little, shaking her head. She was definitely not allowed to look at her mentor that hungrily. Still, it said something for all their effort, that their hard work was having the desired effect.

When the music shifted slightly, Nikola allowed herself to flow through the foggy shapes as she stepped onto the stage with him, she was dressed, for now, in a deep burgundy cloak that concealed everything beneath it, slits in the side for her hands and arms. After all, she was supposed to be mimicking his moves, and she couldn’t do that without her limbs... Allowing the music to dictate when and how she moved, Nikola fell into character, watching her companion before drawing a thinner, slender blade then his own from within the cloak, echoing his movements. There was something surreal about being up on stage. And she couldn’t really see the audience with the lights. It was easy to ignore them; to pretend this was nothing more than a rehearsal in her basement. With that thought in mind, she stepped through the ‘trees’ and joined him, to the side and a little behind him. She matched his movements effortlessly, while in her head she counted down, knowing what was to come.

@Artur Nikitin

((OOC: we talked about this thread at length and any time we're mentioning actions by the other's character, its been pre approved.))

Nazar i Helyna
Artur Nikitin and Nikola Meer
Interpretive Dance and Sword Fighting
A dramatic retelling of the well known Ukrainian Wizard Folk Tale
of a Durmstrang Family feud with a Koldovstoretz Family,
and two Lovers caught in the middle.

Why did his little Perovskia put his name first? Artur thought before he closed the program. He almost put it in his pocket then realized he was wearing his costume, so he rested it on a crate next to him. Hoping he will remember it once they were done.  It had been over 5 years since he seen his name in anything but a graduation program. Before that his name used to be in dueling circuits programs all the time, but times have changed and now his little apprentice was taking the stage. This was not quite how he pictured her sword skill debut but certainly a larger audience than his first match. Artur stood up and walked over to the heavy side curtain.  He glimpsed a beehive of wizards and witches were buzzing, while a few stragglers were moving about to take their seats.

“We are just about to raise it. We need you on your mark.” said a Stagehand. Artur nodded and stepped out onto the stage looking down for his mark, while taking slow deep breaths. Even with the fog that rolling in magic, he was able to find it. There he stretched his shoulders one last time and assumed his starting position with his head bowed and sheathed sword held out. He was still willing for his heart to slow.

This is no different than competitions. He told himself. In fact, there was less of a risk here. He knew what moves to make, and the ending was clearly laid out for him. Yet it wasn't his thoughts, but the vague sensation of the magic taking a form behind him that made him relax. He could tell it was Nikola casting. Her magic was becoming familiar, like his favorite song drifting on the wind. With it and one last deep breath he felt his heart slowed. It was just in time, for the curtain lifted and their audience hushed their buzzing.

He stood almost completely in shadow on the dark stage for a second, then the music started and a spotlight appeared on the sword that he held out facing the audience. He slowly pulled it out of its sheath, letting the sound of the metal work with the music. As it was freed so too was the light narrows beam and it widened in time for him to drop into a stretching pose with the sword poised above his head. He leaned in to it, to let the green and black and silver detailed robes to blew for a second in Nikola’s wand created wind. Then he arched both of his arms around as he slid into another pose, holding for a few seconds and then moving to the next. As he completed the first cycle he new Nikola will be rushing in the back getting the last spells in before she joined him on stage.

When he fell back into his first pose, he felt her take her place behind him. Hidden for now from the audience in the shadows. He was supposed to be Nazar the Master-Swordsman-assassin, who currently was assuming he is training in the woods by himself. Serious, focused, yet serine. Still, he could not help the small corners of his mouth to lift just slightly, from the joy of knowing she was now on stage with him.

They were a pair… a pair of what? They were long past the Professor student, verging on passing the Master and Apprentice phase. For his little Perovskia only lacked experience at this point… So, What was left for them? Like Nazar and Helyna, they might soon train as equals and then she might soon after surpass him.

He cycled through the moves again. Striking his poses to the ever increasing temple. Suddenly there was a “oh” and a hushed “look” from the audience as they spotted the dark-cloaked figure of Nikola taking on the roll of Helyna. Halyna had attempted to spy on Nazar, and danced in Nazar’s shadow, so that she could learn all his moves. That was until Nazar noticed his shadow was not a shadow at all, but a fellow assassin. At this point Artur was to gives a slight frown and in the next move...Artur performed a quick reverse with his sword spinning letting his rodes billow out with the movement. It was a dangerous move, designed to miss Nikola by near inches before she caught his blade. Now, Artur allows his ‘Nazar’s frown’ to become his more natural accustomed sword-play deadly smile, which he usually wears while sword fighting. For now that Nazar caught his shadow and he thinks ‘his opponent’ is good as dead, so he would be quite happy about it.


ooc: Any of the following which mentions any actions by the other's character has been discussed in full and pre approved by both drivers @Chaw and @Miss Mori

The two sword blades met, as intended, at a momentary lull in the music, so that the clash of live steel could be heard in the silence. But Nikola barely noticed their perfect timing, nor did she even think to herself that they’d pulled that particularly difficult strike off. Because what came next was not choreographed. It was meant to look real, so it would be. For a good thirty seconds, which had she not been so locked into her focus, would have felt like an eternity on the stage, the two were to engage in actual combat. Though the weapons were enchanted so as not to slice flesh, she knew from first hand experience that these would still bruise, or potentially even break bone. The normal wards that stopped the blades within a few millimeters from flesh had been left off. After all, these needed to be able to cut cloth and cord. It was integral to their performance.

The German witch slid back and assumed a low defensive stance with a rapid flourish that fanned the cloak out behind her, stirring up the black mist that coated the ground still. And then she lunged forwards, as Helyna had done in the folk tale, quick to defend herself and to prove her own prowess with the blade. He blocked, as she knew he would, but kept up her own pace, the music forming a fast tempo for her strikes, which allowed him to parry, though to Nazar’s…. Artur’s credit, he made it look as though many were a narrow miss. After all, the music was important, both listening for a musical que that would lead the two dueling sword masters back into the actual choreography. But for now Nikola’s graceful, almost dance like swordplay under normal circumstances were on full display; not that her former professor’s own were lackluster, as his blade sliced through the fabric of one of her sleeves, the fabric revealing the bare arm beneath it. too close.

Fortunately it was at that moment that the musical que they had been waiting for came through the fog of combat, and both slid into their stances once more. This time he came at her, aggressive and forceful, with power. It was as if he’d been toying with her before, gauging her skill. But of course it was meant to appear that way. Nazar was the master swordsman after all, and through her stealthy observations Helyna had learned much from him, in addition to her own skill. But she was certainly not his equal. They had not planned to choreograph this part, but as it turned out, Nikola was incapable of downplaying her own abilities.

So choreographed moves it was, which was perhaps for the best, because it helped ensure her safety. After all, had Artur actually gone full force, there was a chance he could have killed her if one of them had stepped out of line, dulled blades or not. She had no problem admitting that her mentor was by far still the superior swordsman of the two of them. Nikola still had a great deal yet to learn, at least in her own mind.

Having rehearsed the moves so much, Nikola barely even noticed how far they had gone until she felt herself jerked forwards, his free hand wrapped tightly around the thick fabric of her burgundy cloak. Spinning fiercely to the left, away from the audience and out of the cloak, she was followed close behind by his blade, cutting through the fabric like a hot knife through butter. It was only her rapid reflexes that kept the blade from grazing her own pale skin as it whipped past her, leaning back so it missed her face by mere inches, before tumbling backwards and springing to her feet with all the grace of a lioness, once more in an aggressive stance. But this time, Helyna was truly revealed for what she was. An assassin certainly, and easily close to Nazar’s on skill. But delicate and feminine, matching the grace and poise she’d shown earlier in the fight, long braid flowing down her back to nearly her waist.

Finally, the fight was on. Atur playing Nazar released his sword upon his opponent. Each move he attempted, he made sure it was done with the full extent of his master skill and precision. Nikola playing the surprised and defending Helyna kept up with him mirroring some moves as soon as he did them. Which showed Nazar that Helyna had been watching and adsorbed much of his knowledge.

Everything seemed to be going as planned, but a forgotten flame in Artur lit. It was the audience… the blessed audience and their “Oh" and "wow"  and intakes of breath that fuelled a long forgotten passion to win in him. Over five years ago, when he had been in his dueling competitions, him and another opponent could be evenly matched. Yet give Artur a responsive audience and he was almost guaranteed to pull out on top. This was what Nikola was missing in the way of experience. The thrill of a true competition where her title could be on the line and the joy of being in front of a large body of receptive viewers. It was what had given Artur what he needed to win.

It was that willingness to win. The one he had called a pawn when he wanted to beat her and quickly. It turned his sword deadly fast and powerful. Since this section of the duel did not consist of the pre-rehearsed moves, Artur was getting a little carried away without noticing it. His little Perovskia who was always light on her feet was having trouble keeping up. Then it happened. The mistake. A near miss was nearly not a miss. He paused for a second when he saw the skin was now visible through the slice in the her sleeve.  His sword cause damage to her outfit. His smile fell for a second. SHIT Yet the audience lapped it up like Ludolf at his water bowl on one of the hottest days of the year. Luckily Artur and Nikola were just about to pull back and then re engage in with a more choreographed part. Still it was hard for Artur to control it. This part was to illustrate that Nazar realized just how much if his knowledge the spy assorbed. He now knew he had to kill his opponent, before anything else is gained or they somehow get away.

Nazar let the attack in this round and somehow appeared to turn deadlier. Helyna went nicely on the defensive. They danced, him pushing her back and forth across the large stage. The audience's eyes eagerly following them waiting, some seemingly holding their breath. A few more planned near misses caused a gasp or two, but Artur was thankful they did not catch any of Nikola's outfit. He tried to keep to the choreographed steps, but these moves were just as deadly. Still Helyna danced on just out of reach of Nazar’s sword, although just barely. The audience could tell she was realizing that she was out matched and Nazar meant to kill her with every blow.

And then it happened. Nazar leaned forward and caught the top of Helyna’s dark cloak like a seeker would a snitch. His opponent could no longer escape, they were good as dead. Just as rehearsed Nikola spun behind as Artur slashed. The effect was carefully orchestrated to give the allusion that Nazar managed to slice Helyna through the middle. Shocked gasps and one child's cry (ok she was right there were children here) rang out through the audience. Yet soon the viewer noticed that the bottom half of the cloak and two pieces of ribbons fell to the floor, yet Nikola playing Henlyna was not beneath it. Artur waited a second for effect before he tossed the empty cloak to the side.

It was then revealed that the cat like Helyna had managed to escape her cloak, and blocked his swing before rolling away. Relief sounded from the crowd. Artur was a little peeved that they were not routing for his character to win, but he couldn't let that show. Instead he had to behave like Nazar, who was beside himself with surprise that his opponent was a woman this whole time. It was a little corny. Certainly, such an unveiling would not surprise Artur, but he had Nikola to compare too… and this was after all a love story. It needed this trist and Artur had to act smitten that his rival was a woman.

He had practiced his pose. The shock look, dropping his sword, while holding his free hand to his heart. The music had, once again, for a brief moment stalled for emphasis.... and the audience behaved accordingly again. A long pause waited, before Helyna flipped to her feet and goes to attack him. But at this point on things change. Nazar instead is intensely curious and aroused by the fact he has a female opponent. Their sword dance becomes less deadly and instead a game to Nazar. For he was flattered that this gorgeous witch had been watching him and copying his for so long and he new nothing of her.

The pair danced Nazar letting Helyna taking the lead, his smile no longer of death but amusement.

The reactions from the Audience were exactly what the pair on stage had been hoping for, the gasp as the blade sliced through the fabric, before the reveal of Helyna, beautiful, but just as deadly as he. In the folk tale, she was already an assassin. A mercenary. Trained in the art of subterfuge and death. But she was inexperienced, and finding Nazar’s secret training grounds had been her chance to get better. Of course she’d not been as stealthy as she’d wanted to be and gotten caught. But that was the curse of inexperience. One that Nikola knew far too well. After all, she’d screwed up and he’d cut open her sleeve. It could have been worse, and it had clued in the audience that the weapons were real, before the cloak was sliced in half. For Dramatic effect, her mistake had worked in their benefit, but she would need to be much more cautious. Still. It would do her no good to dwell on that slip up. They had a show to finish, after all. And she wanted it to be perfect.

On her feet now, as the music beat its way through her chest, Nikola could not resist showing off a little, coming at him with two hard strikes before darting beneath his swing and forcing him to rapidly adjust. Of course it was still choreographed, but the added flourishes made the long fabric billow out around her as she moved like water around him, glimpses of her long, slender legs through the high slits in the skirt as she moved and struck. A smile grew on her face slowly, as their attacks became less about killing the other, and more about feeling out the situation. They were both, in some ways, toying with each other, amused and almost in some ways seeming to flirt. The two were almost dancing together, not quite as much sword fighting, although there was still some element of danger to it.

Like when she found herself with the tip of his blade to her throat, before shaking his head like she should have known better. But she just smiled and looked down, her own blade against his chest, where his heart would be. They pulled back once more, steel singing as it whirled through the air, deadly weapons passing within millimeters of flesh as they moved in and out of each other's reach,  their fight having long ago lost any real sense of danger, and turning nearly playful. Artur had sounded skeptical when Nikola suggested that sword fighting could be flirtatious, but he had agreed with her once they had begun working on the choreography. On some level she wondered if it had made him uncomfortable, but pushed that thought from her mind. They were professionals, performers. Emotion didn’t have to factor into it. That's all the feelings she’d been having over the past month or so were, side effects of working so closely with him to conceive this dramatic presentation.

Nikola whirled around, coming in for an overhand strike, only for her sword hand to be caught in his offhand, holding her by the wrist as the two came close to each other, him sheathing his blade before releasing her hand. The music even had become more romantic. The original composer who put the folk song to music had known exactly what he was doing, and this longer rendition of it was nothing more then perfect.  He reached down and picked up half of the ribbon that had been cut from her cloak, and still standing close to her, he reached out and gently pulled Helyna’s braid forwards, over her shoulder, tying the brightly colored violet ribbon around her dark hair. There was just something sensual about that act that even Nikola couldn’t deny, as she tied the other piece of ribbon around the hilt of his sword. There was a blush in her cheeks, though faint and thankfully hidden under the make up they both had to wear so the lights on stage didn’t wash their faces out completely. She was gonna need a cold shower after this performance… it was an act. A performance. He certainly didn’t think of her like that. So why was it affecting her the way it was.

Nikola bloomed even more during this section. It was not only her grace and the flowing fabric that parted to show her beautiful shaped legs. It was her face, her teasing upturned lips, the way her blueish-green eyes sliding coyly over him. No wonder the girl is able to get the occasional lover whenever it suits her fancy, if this is how she pretends to flirt. Imagine if it was not me and instead someone she actually wanted to bed. If Artur had been Nazar, he knew he would be quickly falling for her, as Helyna. Luckily Artur held his true passion at bay because he knew this was all an act. Still he let himself be just as playful back. For the audience, he let his eyes linger on her legs. He let his sword slide slowly down hers so their chest were nearly touching and their faces could be within inches. Finally during the portion when they had knives to each other, he made a show of using his blade's flat edge to tilt her head back. So he could show off her long white vulnerable neck. Letting Nazar eyes inspect it as if he was looking for a suitable kissing location. Before he made a show of noticing her own dagger near his heart, and thought it wiser they moved apart. Artur was enjoying it a little to much.

In truth, at first it was hard for him to imagine that sword fighting and flirting could be combined. His matches that he fought before had been against other males. So it was not like he had experienced any flirting with an opponent. It was true that most witches were attracted to him because of his sword skill. A few had hired him under the guise of learning the skill, but their true attentions soon got revealed. It usually resulted in them spending more time in a bed, then with a sword. He had never bedded a equal… a few starry eyed new youngsters, yes. Yet maybe he should keep his eyes out for one witch with real sword skills. You never know there might be a new and beautiful face or two at the competitions.

The flirtation was peaking as they appeared to be spinning with each other as in a dance. Only clashing their swords in time with the midpoint climaxing music. Nikola had choreographed most of this part. He admitted the finished product, with their spinning robes, swords and nearly entwined bodies was beautiful. Then the music suddenly stopped. Artur knew it would be tricky. He had to catch her hand as her sword swings down to him. He wouldn't recommend it to anyone to try in an actual fight, but with Nikola help slowing her movements, he caught it. They stood facing each other as the audience held their breath.

Artur had an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He was sure it was just his body telling him, what Nazar would do. Still they did not plan that, instead they decided to do something of a symbolic gesture. So he slowly eases his sword and aimed it to the narrow space between then. An audience member gasped who must have not read the original story. Yet instead of slaying her, Nezar slips his sword back into his sheath. After a short moment more, he releases Helyna's hand. Who slowly lowers her sword and sheaths her own. They take one step closer and  stop and look down. As if only now noticing the fabric and ribbons, and the cut cloak beneath their feet. Nazar gathers them up and drapes them on his arm, a little remorseful that he had tried to kill the beautiful witch. Nazar then reaches out gently brushed Helyna's cheek before he pulls her beautiful long braid forward. The end of her braid got a little undone so he used one of the bright violet ribbons to tie the end. She in turn, gently takes the other half of the ribbon from his arm and ties it to the hilt of his sword which hung on his belt. Artur tilted it forward conically. The pair of them letting their grins show. It was very symbolic for copulation, yet vague enough for children’s eyes. 

They stand there and hold hands for a few more counts until the slow music that had been playing suddenly includes a weary horn. Both turn their heads away from each other as if they heard a summon the opposite direction. At this point Nazar and Helnya as assassins are being called to fight in the name of two different family (one from the Durmstrang the other form Kolbovstorez.) Each family was so desperate to win the wizards duel they each get an assassin to disguised themselves with a mask as a family member and win. Artur and Nikola decided to illustrate this by each walking to the opposite edge of the stage, wanding shadow figures to step forward.  They bow as if they are in the service of them, levitate payment, and their final scene’s masks which they kept concealed within the black mask. The music drums now anxious as they count out the beat, donning the masks, before finally bowing before the family's last time. Helyna and Nazar, now disguised as members of the two families, drew out their swords and turned to each other.

The pair locked eyes across the stage, not knowing that their paid target was in fact their lover. They dropped into their respective offensive statues and as they stood for a halted moment. Suddenly they both rushed forward.  It was the first time and last time they voiced anything the entire performance. Each let out a roar that made over half of the audience jump. During this the music built until it became only pounding drums and the swords of the two sword-masters met with a sharp clang on the battlefield, where one was destined to die.

Despite the fact that everything was progressing as planned, Nikola couldn’t help but feel reluctant as the story progressed. She was enjoying the play fighting, flirting, and she could tell that he was as well. Both were in their element, and having fun. It was that which kept the amused and beguiling look on her face as they insisted something far more innocent then a cute little ribbon. But the light hearted and fun part of their display had ended, and the two reluctantly parted.

In the legend, the two assassins were called on for a job, not knowing they were to be pitted against each other. The names of the two families were lost to time, or perhaps never truly existed to begin with. It was the lovers that interested the storytellers. All that was stated was that a feud had formed between a prestigious Durmstrang Alumni Family and a large and rather wealthy Koldovstoretz Family. The two had decided that a sword fight would determine who was the better family. The participants were supposed to be the best sword fighters from each family, though as they were wearing masks, both families decided to cheat, unbeknownst to the other. And as Nazar was a graduate of Durmstrang, and Helyna being a Koldostroretz Alumni, each were approached separately for their unique skills.

The masks were Nikola’s crowning achievement this festival, in her own mind. Her own, dark reds and brilliant violets, were reminiscent of fire, the tips of the feathers that shot back from her face fading to orange or even yellow as they extended outwards from the almost plague doctor style covering, made of rich leather imbedded with gold patterning that echoed the feathers which crowned her head. And Artur’s was no less intricate, with actual dragon teeth imbedded in the mask where it extended out from his face, looking as though he was indeed transformed into the family’s symbolic animal, a Romanian Longhorn. The twin golden yellow horns came round the sides of his face, sticking out past the teeth, made of wireframe and overlaid with fabric and gold leaf. Edyta’s reference images that she’d sent Nikola had certainly gone to good use. Both Helyna and Nazar were captured perfectly in that moment, as the drums took precedence in the music, unmoving, facing each other with weapons drawn, before they charged in with a mighty battle cry, locked in combat as they had at the beginning of their dance.

Once more choreography gave way to actual fighting, much as they did at home, though they’d done this enough to know how to time their strikes with the music, and each other. The raw feel of battle, the gasps of the crowd from the narrow misses, and the heavy beat of the music egging on the beating of her own blood in her ears took Nikola to levels of Euphoria she’d not expected to experience from a swordfight before. Had she done as Artur had hoped, was this what she could have expected in regards to competition fighting? No wonder he had loved it so much. The two were evenly matched, both because Nikola had trained so much with artur that she knew many of his moves and techniques, but also because Helyna had grown as a fighter, now comparable with Nazar in her skill.

But Nazar was still the greater swordsman, and while Helyna relied on her prowess with the Blade, Nazar used his whole body. Echoing how he had caught her the first time round, Nazar reached out and grabbed Helyna by the braid as she spun around him, pulling her in close. But Helyna had been fighting with a dagger in her offhand, unlike the first fight, and without missing a beat, sliced through her own braid, forcing him to both stumble back from the sudden shift in balance, and dodge a blow from her main weapon, before the two pulled back, Helyna readyinyg for another attack.

The sharp clangs of the swords hit with the rhythm of the ever increasing tempo of the warrior drums, while the sharp symbol high pitch instruments gave an uneasy anxious sensation. Artur and Nikola started by rotating between the basic 8 strikes. It seemed simple enough but it was the quickness and the fervour of the strikes which alludes to the deadliness of the fight. They rotated in a spinning reverse, a sweeping parry, even a leap to give added interest. Each taking the lead as they worked their way back and forth while landing each hit perfectly. Even with everything going according to plan, the audience seemed to be holding their breath. It was all choreographed, yet Artur felt like something was distinctly different than the previous times they practice this. It might be he had forgotten how it felt to be fighting in front of an advance or demonstrating this level of skill. Yet even as he thought this, he knew he was obviously ignoring the tightness of his chest and how his eyes wanted to lock with hers.

It was not until he grabbed her braid, that he realize just what was ailing him. It was his flirtatious dragon that had awaken. Which usually happened when he sees a set of hips promenade pass him or a witches thickly lashed eyes glance his way, but not Nikola. Never Nikola. She was his student. Yet there was no denying it he was turned on. He thought he was acting, during the later half of the first scene. Nazar and Helyna were fictional characters. This was just a routine. Yet as soon as he grabbed the braid he knew he wanted to catch her sword again,  pull her to him, take her in his arms …… and do something definitely not choreographed. Something a Professor and Student or a Mentor and apprentice should never ever due.

He had just stopped himself from pulling her closer and catching her dagger hand. Instead he let her swing the dagger in the space between them. As planned it sliced freely through her braid, separating him from her. The only problem was he had pulled her closer and she had adjusted the swing accordingly.The cut which should have taken off  6 to 8 inches, instead cut off over a foot. He didn't have to act stunned as he looked at the portion of the braid he now held in his hand. Nazar would be looking at the ribbon of his lover… Artur was instead staring at Nikola's hair which slowly unraveled. He had caused her to cut off too much. Way to much. If he cursed, it was covered by the crescendo of music.

Taking the opportunity of his pause she brought up her sword and implanted the tip in to his left breast, triggering the magical explosion of the red streamers. His job was then to collapse. Although they had practiced a number of ways of doing this, they had settled on him grabbing his chest, taking a few steps back, his legs give out before he would finally lay down. The music halted. He stood there for a few counts to long looking at the hair. He glanced up expecting Nikola’s face to be pissed but instead she held her position with just an eyebrow raised and a quick glance at the floor behind him. Artur woke to the realization that he needed to play dead. So he obediently dropped the hair, grabbed his chest, step step than fall. There were only a few counts behind now… which he was sure could be made up by shortening the next scene.

As Helyna stood above Nazar dying body ready to cut off his head. Nazar slowly lifted his sword and display the ribbon on the hilt. Helyna kneels next to him, and with a dagger to his throat, pulls off his mask. With Nazar’s true Identity exposed, Helyna’s warrior aspect dissolved and the lover removed the phoenix-warrior mask. With his last strength Nazar put down his sword and touch the face of his lover, Helyna.

Nikola too stared at the hair in his hands, her own hair unraveling from what remained in the braid and falling about her neck. Her knife had come dangerously close to her own chin when she severed the braid, but it had to be done. She felt a pang of mourning for her long, silky hair that had come down almost past her waist, but knew if she absolutely hated the shorter look, she could encourage it to grow faster with potions. And the scene itself had played out so beautifully. Both had made a few mistakes here and there, but they were nothing that the audience would perceive as a mistake, only mis-steps in choreography or a few close calls that shouldn’t have happened. Overall Nikola couldn’t help but be proud of them both for how the performance had progressed.

But it was time for the final moments, and Nikola let everything out of her mind but the sword fight. With Nazar startled, he left himself open for attack, and the ever aggressive Helyna went in for the kill. There was a horrified and audible gasp as her knife punched into his chest, the colorful streamers shooting out from him, and the shiny bits of sparkling paper catching the light like glitter as they drifted down around the two of them. Though the blade was sharp enough to easily slice through hair, pressure on the tip would cause it to collapse. They were practically pressed against each other, but Artur hesitated. Had he suddenly got cold feet now? There was a look on his face, but one only nikola could see through the mask, though she could have easily dismissed it as Nazar’s expression of disbelief.

And yet Nikola knew him too well. Something had clicked in his mind, and she didn’t know what, or why it had happened now. She raised an eyebrow, and thankfully he stumbled back, falling ‘off’ the blade and holding his hand to his chest, the braided lock of hair slipping from his fingertips as he dropped to his knees, and then fell back, hand still over his heart. Nikola as Helyna approached, to finish the job she’d set out to do. After all, she was a paid assassin. Her steps quickened, easily making up the time they’d lost with his hesitation, bringing her blade down to his throat, only stopping, her expression hidden behind the mask as her gaze fell upon the ribbon tied to the offered hilt, the music mournful now. Helyna’s strike had been true. And she had slain the man that she loved.

Off tore the dragon mask and was quickly cast aside, skittering almost to the edge of the stage, Helyna’s hair falling around her face as she fell to her knees beside him, before shakily reaching up and removing her own, the anguish clearly visible.  And yet there was something very real about that moment for her. Artur was one of her nearest and dearest friends, and the sudden thought of him really laying there, bleeding out with nothing she could do to save his life… a tear ran down her cheek as she fought it back. And yet somehow it worked, as he brushed it away weakly before his hand collapsed back.

Had they done this correctly, Nikola’s hair was planned to be long enough. After all, but she and Artur had expressed that they had no desire to kiss each other. But with her braid having been severed so short, there was no longer a curtain of dark locks to hide behind, and suddenly in that moment, Nikola wasn’t certain she wanted to, as her lips touched his, feather light and brief, but with a charge that seemed to run through her, one that frightened and excited her at the same time.

But she pulled back, not making eye contact or wanting him to see what that kiss did to her. No. she could not be attracted to Artur. It was just the adrenaline of the performance, and the overwhelming feelings that they had conjured to show them on their faces. Drawing his sword into the hand that once held the dagger, turning round to face the shadow figures of the two families, Rage boiling over. The two had been hired to cheat at a contest, and both families had to realize that they had caused their own downfall with their Hubris and their greed. Assuming Artur wasn’t so shocked by the kiss that he forgot to take control of the shadow figures...

He saw and felt the tear when his hand touched her face. At first he was worried, she was upset about him cutting her hair to short. Yet it was not like Nikola to cry over something like that… in fact he never known her to cry at all. So, he put the thought of it out of his mind as he came to the conclusion that she must just be acting. She was amazing. How she flirted with him he nearly believed her, the way she made her hands shook was something he could have never done so believable and now the tear….  She was a master of the sword, as well as fashion and now acting. She was beautiful and amazing even with her short hair…

As they choreographed it, he let his hand fall limp, giving the illusion he had died. He attempted a dead, blank stair and forced his breaths to the most shallowest he could manage after such a fight. A feet that strained at the limits of his training, but thankfully he had years of practice of running laps and shooting range weapons at targets. So he was able to halt his breath to a nearly non visible state. He eyes could not help but widened as he noted because of her now too-short hair she could not use it as a curtain for their kiss. They had planned to fake it, with a peck on the cheek. Something they always did when then greeted each other since she graduated. Artur told himself she will just have to kiss his cheek and forget the iconic ‘Helyna’s forwell kiss on her dead lover lips’ so eloquently described in the poem of the story.

Resolved to accept their error, he watched her lean closer, and closer. Yet she was not turning her head.

Then she ended up doing to him what he wanted to do to her a few seconds ago. He felt her lips on his. Her lips were light, soft but too brief. He unconsciously met them with the slightest of movements, but a moment later they were gone. He breathed in her ceder sent with the intake of his surprise, shock and disbelief as it caused a torrent of emotions to radiate through him. He could swear his heart stopped for a few beats his breath halted. He can't, could not process it. He did not know how he felt or how he was supposed to feel. Was his feeling for her different? Had something in him changed? He knew it did. With that feather light kiss, lighter than the briefest brush of a butterfly wing...Now he knew part of him wanted it, and more. Yet a larger part of him knew it was wrong for him to want it, even consider it. He knew if he was not careful he would destroy everything he cherished. Although there was his job at Durmstrang to consider, it was their relationship and friendship that he was worried about. It could dissolve into something uncomfortable and be lost and gone forever. With the countless women he has had, non had he ever worried this much about. He had cherished the few years of friendship with Nikola. He knew if he acted a pawn the emotions that typically ruled his carnal desires, it would leave too big of a hole. To know he destroyed their friendship and that they could never again have what they have now. No. He would not let that happen. He could never let her know at that moment, almost beyond all his sense of reason... he wanted to give her a true, deep, passionate kiss back.

It was then he realized that Nikola was already standing with his sword in her hand and facing the Shadow forms and waiting for him to direct them. Artur quickly slipped his wand out on the far side of the audience and wordlessly directed them to attack Nikola. It was difficult to direct from the floor but they practiced it a number of times, until choreographing the fight was almost second nature for him. It was apparent that she intended to show no mercy for the death of her lover, to either group. One by one her sword swirled through the smoke that made up the vaguely humanoid shapes, whirling about in a graceful dance that caused her skirt to swirl out around her. Artur was happy he was stuck on the ground it was hard enough looking at her legs dance with deadly precision as she sliced through the shadow forms. He had always knew she was beautiful but now he felt it.

He willed for the performance to be over and then it finally was…

Nikola had worked hardest on this part, working through in her mind a way to make the beautiful display easy on the eyes. Sure the red confetti seemed tacky, but it had done the trick in a pleasant way. The same went for the illusionary smoke figures that dissipated harmlessly in swirls of light as her blade danced through the air. Her skirts swirled around her legs, revealing long limbs and slender boots, exposing that she was indeed fighting in heels. This was her time to show off, striking in time with the music, her feet dancing through the smoke on the ground as the figures merged back into it.

When they were all gone, and the Music stopped, Nikola was left standing, the feathered gown she was wearing still, her face framed in profile by the bright stage lights before everything went dark and the curtains pulled closed. She let out a breath as a roar echoed out from beyond the curtain, before inhaling deeply and turning back to Artur, offering him a hand to help him back to his feet, before hugging him tightly, grinning wildly. “That… was… amazing.” she murmured breathlessly, before pulling back as the stage hands gestured for them to get in place for the bow. She wanted to ask Artur what had struck him, but part of her was worried about what he might say. They made their way back to the center of the stage, blinded by the bright lights that came up, obscuring the audience as Artur stepped aside and let her take a low, sweeping bow, before she stepped to the side and allowed him to do the same.

Making their way back stage, Nikola leaned against the wall, still breathing heavily as the adrenaline slowly wore off, the grin still filling her face, showing more emotion than she ever usually did. “Now I understand why you loved performing so much...” she murmured, her eyes sparkling with delight. But as she came down from the high of having been on stage, her thoughts went elsewhere. “I need a shower...” she quickly commented, wanting to keep the conversation off the kiss. Or how much she’d enjoyed it. Or the fact that she was pretty sure that in the heat of the moment, he had kissed her back. “And we definitely need to get out of these clothes.”

Finally it is finished.

Artur gave out a sigh of relief as he remained lying on the ground while the curtains dropped. It was not until his Perovskia stood over him and offered him her hand that he even thought about moving. He took her hand, even though he made sure to mostly help himself up. He was not exhausted it was just he was processing what just had happened. Which was nothing. He told himself. They performed their choreographed performance and it went relatively well and it was now over.

As soon as he was on his feet she practically jumped into his arms.  Her thin tall body pressed against his. She had to be on her toes for her head reached over his shoulder. One of his arms naturally wrapped around her waist, the other went to stroke her hair. Yet his hand fell too quickly onto her shoulders. Still she didn't seem to have any remorse for its new length, for the next thing she did was uttered exuberant breathless words of That… was… amazing that tickled his sideburns. He replies a simple, “no you were” just as she pulled back.

He was not sure if she heard him, but he hoped not. He realized after he said it, it was borderline inappropriate. The lover’s Nazar and Helyna’s performance was over and now they had to go back to their Mentor-pupil relationship. Which was simple. He just needed to pretend that this, the kiss and whatever else happened was just an unusual experience. That would likely never ever repeat again. He had missed the Stage hand cue but thankfully she guided him holding his hand to the center of the stage. She wheeled him around, just in time for the curtain to rise again. It was then he  realized the torrent of sounds he was hearing was the audience clapping and cheering.

Luckily, Nikola with all her planning, had already had their bows choreographed out and had seen that they rehearsed. In which he quickly queued, by gracefully bring her round then stepping aside for her to take a bow first. Like her sword fighting style, her bow was done with a limber, grace and elegance. Then she stepped back and Artur took his bow.  His was military like. He snapped to attention bent at the waist held for a count of three and then raised slowly and ridgetly. 

 They stood together as the curtain fell for the last time. Nikola made her way to the back stage, but After hesitated for a second. He seen the flowers thrown for Nikola and quickly gathered them up before joining her in the back. He found her leaning on a wall with a silly grin on her face. She looked older with her short hair or maybe he was just used to seeing her throughout her youth with the long braid.

With her statement he smile before correcting, “I never performed, it was a competition match… but yes it is much the same. And these were thrown to you.”  He said as he handed her the mix bunch of bouquets and singles roses. “You did a great job. They are going nuts out there.”

Artur felt a bit odd just standing there while she caught her breath as people walked by and congratulated them randomly. His eye fell on the box he was sitting on before and grabbed the program he left there. Slipping it into the pocket that once held the confetti charge. When he got back she announced that she needed a shower.

“I agree, a nice cool shower sounds great.” He said before hoping she did not read into the statement. But why would she? What was wrong with him. "I guess I will be heading back to the hotel too. Shall I escort you to your room?" He said as he motioned her to walk ahead. Forcing himself to walk always a step behind. He had to consciously taking on  the role of protector and mentor again. He needs to leave any attraction he had for her back on the stage.

{end}

Nikola stared at the flowers for a moment, before realizing what he was saying and where they’d come from. She smiled and took them from him, her arms full. Nikola had never received flowers before. She grew her own in her greenhouse, and had never really had any suitors. After all, she was the Untouchable Ice Queen, the German Meer. the Intimidating strong willed and Opinionated woman who carried a sword. None of those things made her the sort of woman who drew in much attraction. She had her share of lovers, sure, but they were either one night stands, or people with a mutual understanding that there was nothing more than physical attraction to be had there. Dating, in her mind, was for people looking to get married, and the German witch found that the expectations placed upon her in that sort of situation were not at all desirable for her. She wasn’t sure what to do with the flowers, but she was fairly certain that she could at least put them in water back in her hotel room.

Speaking of, Artur seemed to be of the same mind, and she definitely needed a cold one after that kiss. It was an act. Just an act. And the adrenaline was what made it feel like more. Surely it was that simple. Surely if she told herself that enough times, Nikola would begin to believe it. “That would be appreciated. With my arms full of flowers, I will require someone to open a door for me.” she teased, before accepting the gesture to take the lead, heading for the back entrance for the festival area.

She needed to get her head back in the game. She had a fashion show tomorrow, and needed to be on pointe for that. She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by these pesky thoughts. Glad he was walking behind her, so that her eyes couldn’t drift over his toned figure, Nikola let out a sigh. Relief, disappointment, contentment, even she didn’t know. “Shall we go?” she smiled back at him, before stepping out of the event plaza and leading the way towards their hotel.

{end}