The early hours of the sun were intoxicating.
Heath could still feel the pressing wounds vibrate throughout his frame, though notably, it was dampened. High off the fresh morning air, he could feel it in his bones; He could train today.
There was another pounding in his chest, and he couldn't shake it. Similar to before, he had no way of telling if it was excitement or dread. The prospect of knowing what's to come simply enthralled him, so much so he couldn't think of anything but a rematch at the spring.
From what he could tell, Eofa had already left the bar, and was now only waiting for him to make his appearance. The skies were sick with an orange hue, chirping of birds as if an omen for the worse.
Still, he stepped forward. Through the forest path, past the scattered scenery, all the while firmly gripping the tarnished blade in his hands. It still hurt to hold—blisters and torn skin still not fully healed from the previous session—but he did it nonetheless.
He had been preparing for a while already... No way he'd let his pain get in the way.
Today, he was well-rested. Thesably, he had learned from his mistakes. In a way, he was confident he could hold his ground for longer, at the very least. Far longer than a meager hour.
Before Heath could even reach the water, however, Eofa's voice began to resonate throughout the forest. He could see him standing there, far in the center of the spring, back turned to face him. "You came."
Something about seeing him again gave a particularly chilling shiver down the crux of his spine. He had an unannounced aura—that of death and precaution, an utter sense of hopelessness when at the tail-end of his power.
He'd be foolish to give up now, however.
Once Eofa had turned around, thus facing each other for the first time since that day, Heath began to prepare. He stanced himself, steadily quivering out his arms and firmly grasping the blade's hilt. He closed his eyes, feeling everything that surrounded him; The sensation of gripping the blade, the wind shooting ripples across the water's surface, the rustling trees that shivered above.
He knew one thing; Eofa didn't want him to wait... he wanted him to act.
Lowering himself, he began to slyly follow the undercurrent of the wind, prepping his arms to his side as the blade trailed near his back.
Eofa stood there, a lack of emotion staining his face, though Heath tried his best to read him. 'What would he do next?' he thought, 'What does he not want me to do?'
The distance was being closed, however. Soon enough, contact would be made, and all thoughts that filled his head would soon be proven useless. Instead, he switched in an attempt to develop the core of his swing, churning his arm like a whip and billowing the edge of the blade towards his side.
He had learned from analysing his previous match, however—the arc of the attack was much wider and at a distance to which the man would be unable to launch an immediate response.
This, at the very least, gave him time.
If the swing was curving into his left, Heath had already known his next move...
Eofa would jolt to the right, and it was just as he'd predicted.
It was at a speed that his eyes couldn't even comprehend, but he'd known the moment Eofa's muscles had twitched that the attack was as good as useless. Even worse, as his eyes followed the shifting shadow, a subtle flick of the man's legs caught his eye...
'A kick!?' He exclaimed, trying his best to shift his weight to the side and block the sweltering blow. The speed was paramount, however, to a length Heath could only dream of one day rivaling. As his boot engraved itself within his side, he could almost feel parts of his bone shatter at the raw impact.
His body flung to the side, once again pummeling into the water below, though notably softening a bulk of the fall with his arms, blade still comfortably clenched within his palm.
Once again, his attack had been countered... though it wasn't all lost.
To the boy, this was an understated victory. His eyes widened, an exhausted smile forming over his once depleted face... 'I saw it...' he stated, 'I actually saw his next move..!'
"Again," Eofa spewed, still with the unkindled indifference lingering within. Heath obliged, raising himself from what would've been a more devastating blow... but he had, in some way, reduced it.
He could already feel it within his heart... he had grown. Much to his benefit, this wasn't a trend which slowed down, either.
For the rest of the day, it was more of the same—the rough blocking of falls, the occasional prediction or two mixed with the inaccurate. Either way, he was learning. And just like he'd set out to achieve initially, he surpassed his previous record of an hour.
Only by an extra hour, sure, but this time was different... He was actually able to function afterwards. Two hours of training, and he could still do more, only stopping due to the wise acknowledgment that his limits are there for a reason. If surpassed again and again, it'd only take longer and longer for him to recover. He didn't want that.
Instead, he did what you might've expected him to: he got lost in the art of study. Not just through books and journals and memory like he did the few nights prior, but through continued drills of his own.
He practiced his swing, his run, his reflexes. Nothing was off the table, and anything could go. He just needed to get stronger. Faster.
Occasionally, Heath could catch a glimpse of Eofa's lingering gaze, other times feeling it though not seeing it. Regardless, he was aware he was being watched and scrutinized in terrorizing silence.
To some extent, this only motivated him to improve more.
By the time dusk had begun to fall once again, Heath had finally mustered the knowledge to one of his previous qualms: His beating heart was indeed out of anticipation rather than dread... or at least it was now.
Tomorrow would be more of the same... but better. He'd apply the knowledge and training he put in today, then execute it better tomorrow. Then the day after that. Then the next. Then for however long it'd take for him to land a blow.
For the first time in a long time... he was excited to wake up the next day.