[center][h2][u][b]A Sword To A Knife Fight[/b][/u][/h2][/center][hr]
The wheels of fate were spinning to their climax, the threads born of the wheel entwining to one inevitable outcome. Tablurath’s sensitive sight read the sudden tensing of his opponent’s legs and it was simple enough to foresee the coming reaction. Previous calculations having made contingencies for such a response. As he had predicted his opponent was responding the only why he could with such a short ranged weapon. Aggressively. The Mage kicked forward suddenly, but almost sluggishly as if he were moving through water in the Cardinals eyes. The potent effects of Tablurath’s heightened perception kicking in. 

Seeing the signs his opponent had fallen for his trap he sprung it into action. Had his opponent observed the Cardinals previous battle, he might have not chosen his current course of action nor ignored the forming weapon. Alas it was too late. Tablurath simply let go of Serenity in the beginnings of his cut as he fell into the power of flash-point and in a blur his right hand shot up, turned palm facing skyward, and gripped the blade newly formed sword clone from the cluster of ash there just to his right in an underhand ice-pick grip. The distance was miniscule enough that the action seemed instantaneous. He then shed the extra force into that weapon allowing him to enter fluidly into a high guard with his left knee bending slightly. 

A quick and subtle flick of his wrist down and slightly to the left brought the cloned sword into the mage's path. This one single action had thus defeated two actions of his opponent with a deft economy of movement. The mage’s left hand would grip only open air where the Cardinal’s arm was only a moment ago, missing Serenity’s handle by mere inches as he had aimed for the wrist. Secondly with Tablurath’s new swords position the forming tip would end aimed directly at the base of the mage’s neck. The Torms current movement would see him impaling himself on the weapon at just four feet away. Outside the range of the man’s knife and with the cloned blade’s tip just above the protection of his vest the edge would have little trouble puncturing the flesh then slicing through the carotid arteries there before hitting the spine.          

The sword would catch the Torm in the midst of his forward leaping action. Effectively giving him no time to change direction or stop himself as he was left to the mercy of his own forward momentum. The mage was fast, to be sure, but compared to the automated the defenses of that Raelis individual he may as well be kicking through gravy. Tablurath’s left hand remained angled across his chest, posed and ready to drop to Mercy if needed. The Cardinal did not have the exact amount of time to push forward into a thrust right away, but his right arm was already posed for such an action.

On top of all this the winds around the two were picking up once more. No doubt the dust storm would be returning in force. Still with such little space between them it might go mostly unnoticed. Especially if the mage died here; he was going to learn the hard way charging a sword saint was tantamount to suicide. Perhaps in this cause quite literally.