Although the two were knights they had very different fighting styles. The knights of Wester were trained in the old ways of fighting, a style that one would only find in that particular Kingdom that held so close to the traditions of the old. It was an elegant and refined style, one that almost could be called dancing. The other knight had a style much like that of barbarians with short blows pushed by sheer force. It was typical of the style taught in Nander. It was sloppy and it left Kalon more than enough room to land hits of his own. Of course the knight of Wester was not immune, no one was, even the best of knights would always get hurt. His injuries were not like the other man's. The man was bleeding heavily from his side and unprotected leg. Unlike Kalon the other man fought with a large axe when his sword was knocked from his hands.

Kalon was pushed back and stumbled, falling onto his back. The other man brought his axe down with such a force that Kalon, who had rolled out of the way, felt a rush of wind. He had no doubt that the stone would bear marks of the man's blow. When he had fallen Kalon's sword had clattered to the loose stone. It was a risk, trying to get to it, that cost Kalon greatly. The other knight had brought down his axe once more, clipping Kalon's fingers. The severed digits were left on the ground as he gripped his sword with his non-dominant hand. It was awkward as he fought against the other man. Kalon's blood was warm and slick as it trickled down his remaining fingers. 

A loud yell caught his attention and that of the other knight. Loria was rushing at them foolishly with the rake she carried held high above her head. They were bewildered for a few moments until she brought the rake harshly across the abdomen of the axe wielding knight. The man grunted but the blow did little but anger him. Loria yelped as the man hit the rake out of her hands and advanced on her. His blue-gray eyes were narrowed and he grinned with wicked intent. "What is a pretty...Your a [i]Graceling[/i]!" he spat, finally catching the coloring of her eyes. Loria's eyes went to her brother. Kalon clutched his injured hand close to his body as he unsteadily gripped his sword. "Do you know what we do to Gracelings?" he asked, getting closer with his axe held tightly by his side. 

She shook her head. Loria had left the Princess within the confines of the small gardening shed and she prayed to the gods that she would be safe there. It was only a matter of time before someone would come and help them. The man laughed. "If they're women we fuc--" his words were cut short by a sword to the back. Blood bubbled from his mouth as he tried to speak. Loria had seen many die in her visions but to see someone die in front of her was something else entirely. She doubled over once her brother withdrew the sword from the man's back. Loria lost what food she held in her stomach.

"The Princess...where is she?" Kalon asked, knowing that his sister was going to be fine. 

With a shaky hand she pointed to the open gardening shed. The door was damaged from the man's attempts to enter. Kalon nodded and called out to the Princess. "It is safe, come out now."

"You're hurt, brother." Loria said as she looked at his hand with horror. "We need to get you to a healer right away!" They would not be able to reattach his fingers, there simply was no way to do that and even the graced healers would not even attempt such a thing.

"Let us get the Princess before heading to the healer--the King needs to be warned that they are closer than we thought." Kalon looked at his sister; she was pale and it looked as if she were going to cry. "He needs to know...and your vision...what was it?"

"You were going to die." 

Kalon stiffened but he said nothing.